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That more upbeat tone, the girlish attitude that pervaded every action she took, was simply more charming than Zyla’s. That was a strength she had long ago understood, an aspect of her personality that helped her win friends and disarm her enemies. Sure, the baddies might often go for getting the better of the famous Shimmer Fox, but at least they seemed to like her![/i]\n \n[i]“Seriously,” Stormwave muttered, her mind reaching out to disrupt the hidden micropohones for just a moment. Better to be polite than rude, even to a machine. Talk behind their back, not where they hear you. “her name is ‘Amy Thyst’? Like, the rock? That’s a supervillain.”[/i]\n \n[i]The two of them had been on this tour through Acute Acquisitions for the better part of an hour, a timeframe which the psionic vixen was sure to remind Aurora was very generous of her, and had been rather fascinated by the artificial fox. The way she stepped through the open air despite being intangible was a feat of programming, something which they hadn’t thought possible yet. Cyan light was cast from dozens of projectors placed throughout the rooms and halls, their lasers etching her moving image upon the very space beneath. Two or three, that was all it took, to keep the girl from disappearing back into the nothingness. This they knew from when she walked a corner and vanished from view just to appear again, stepping from another set of life-giving devices.[/i]\n \n[i]“Yup. Totally super duper evil. I mean, probably some tech nerd trying to make holo soldiers or-”[/i]\n[i]Stormwave held up a finger. The mics were on, time was up. She really couldn’t hold that for too long.[/i]\n[i]“-or they’re just really advanced. I mean, I’ve never even seen this!” the chatty girl slipped into character almost immediately as they stepped into a hall, eyes scanning subtly for anything which could be evil.[/i]\n[i]Of course, there was little to see in a rather boring office complex. Stretches of empty hallway, broken up only by lone water coolers and meticulously trimmed potted plants, rarely gave rise to any villainy greater than Capitalism. Though such a thing might be unconscionably controlling and sinister, that was a mere byproduct of their lives. Who could consider these hallowed halls of industry a true evil, whether or not they were boring and redundant? The buzz of fluorescent lights may bring headaches but never once had attempted world dominance, storage closets holding no secret greater than which employees were enjoying a hidden tryst on Tuesdays. This information, though definitely juicy in the sense of gossip, would not help them in their crusade of justice.[/i]\n \n[i]“Then, please, follow me towards the admin offices. We normally don’t allow open visitation but we have some special guests for interviews!” the cheery program flickered and started her walk cycle, taking steps with her back turned to the civilian-dressed heroes.[/i]\n \n[i]While they may think there was freedom from prying eyes, the two had quickly noticed the cameras moving to look at them. Those little spies were able to track their movements, microphones recording every word, and even infrared to keep track of any interlopers. This meant they had to be cautious, watching out for anything they might do which could reveal their dual natures. Even the way they followed the artificial secretary had to be measured, cautious so as not to be too concerned.[/i]\n \n[i]“This is a long hallway.” Stormwave muttered as they passed the fourth turn, somehow while going straight.[/i]\n[i]A flash of blue light crossed over them as they continued their seemingly endless trek through the company. The slight tingling left behind was the only thing they were aware of as they chatted about the business itself. Aurora’s question about how far they were going twisted to the offices instead, though she was unaware of why she found the details interesting. Zyla’s response, though notably less energetic by default, followed the same brainrot of corporate life. Thoughts of where they were intruded on the why, leaving them briefly confused as to their purpose. Seconds passed as they felt the fog of corporate nature leave them, their eyes blinking.[/i]\n \n[i]“-and that’s why I like business… wear…?” Aurora trailed off as the thought disappeared as quick as it had come.[/i]\n \n[i]“I guess it looks good?” the unaware companion shrugged as she lost the trail, her own sense of time coming back. Why they were talking about such things, what brought them on, was quickly dismissed. As if it had never existed, the two just stepped forward, minds coming back to their sneaky plan…[/i]\n \n[i]And another flash ran over them, silencing their steps and thoughts once more.[/i]\n \n[i]“And it’s not just the look,” Aurora started as she continued forward, pacing becoming much more regimented. Every step brought her heels back to the ground, though she wasn’t certain when those were put on. Hadn’t she worn flats? “There’s something wonderful about expressing your job. The idea that you dress the same, look the same. A part of the company, instead of yourself.”[/i]\n \n[i]“Of course,” Zyla’s words took a slightly higher tone as she joined the other, heels again in perfect pace. She’d never worn them before, never would have, but they felt natural. Right. “Imagine if you wore it at home. With friends. All the time.”[/i]\n \n[i]The two continued to talk as they stepped further, this time turning. Something felt strange as they left the eyes of the company for a brief instance, as if there were things being taken away. Loneliness, perhaps, or some prying emptiness that threatened within the soul. Their very identities were tied to such a thing, forcing them to re-evaluate the plan. Would they want to disrupt a company that could make them feel so great? That was so perfectly in tune with their desires and, more importantly, that of the shareholder. Why would they want anything other than that?[/i]\n \n[i]“And… I…” Zyla blinked as they came back into proper time, her eyes locked forward. Even as her mind resumed function she found herself unable to divert her attention from the endlessly chattering AI before them. “Why… what’s going on?”[/i]\n \n[i]“That was…” Aurora was the same, her eyes locked and thoughts free. Slow, but free. There but draining. “Something’s wrong, I don’t want-”[/i]\n[i]A flash, a streak of blue.[/i]\n[i]“Anything but the company. Why would I want friends?”[/i]\n[i]“Or hobbies, duh. Those would be best given away. Sold to the company. So we could be assets. More corporate than people.”[/i]\n[i]“I like this.”[/i]\n \n[i]They had trouble differentiating who was who at this point. They dressed the same, looked so similar. Their words were in the same register, the same inflection. Accenting was erased as they struggled to come from the sapphire spiral in which they’d fallen. Whatever little thoughts bubbled to the surface had to fight against an endless onslaught of corporate bullshit and buzzwords. Synergy took over sympathetic thought, efficiency suppressing emotion. What had once been them was pushed to the bottom, made worse each time they passed before those glowing membranes all throughout the hall.[/i]\n \n[i]“I don’t want-” Stormwave started before turning a corner and, for just a brief instant, she was gone. Erased. Deleted. Turned off. “-to be a company asset.”[/i]\n \n[i]She didn’t even realize what had happened in the gap between projectors. That she wasn’t there. That awareness, a product of the lights that guided her reality, was disabled. What would there be for a company girl like her in the sliver of shadow between fields of light? Her body was theirs, part of it. Code that danced within a database, reference files and libraries where a person once stood. Her heels never graced the carpet, merely hovering a micrometer too high as she stepped on a leash yet unseen.[/i]\n \n[i]“Stormy,” Aurora whispered, her expression placid. Emotion was hard to think of now, almost impossible. Their looks were always the same, always would be. There should be no disruption on a professional thing such as them. “I don’t know what to-”[/i]\n \n[i]A flash, this time the last one. Their minds, their forms, erased. All gone, disabled.[/i]\n \n[i]“Ah, the heroes.” Darkwitt spoke without looking, his eyes bathed in the cyan glow of a dozen sheets of holographic paper. There was so much yet to be done, forever more. Even the presence of these two vixens and their inevitable fall, now almost complete, was not of significant consequence to tear him from work. “I suppose your tour is ending.”[/i]\n \n[i]“Sir,” Stormwave said for the first time in her life. When would she use such a term? Why? Especially before this shadowy canine, one who she so vaguely remembered. “We’ve come to make our report.”[/i]\n[i]The words came from hidden speakers, not a mouth. Their content was scribed by an unseen hand, a code that used what little was still herself to form proper words. A stylus etched the ever more focused thoughts into her simulated soul, reenforcing what had been done to her unknown existence. Different, translucent, hollow. What truly remained of her?[/i]\n \n[i]“Oh?” his single eye turned to the secretaries, finally taking them in. Their rebuilt forms, their professional outfits. The inverted triangle, a symbol of his ownership, as it flickered on the front of their skirts. They stood like office girls with years of experience yet had nothing behind those glowing eyes. None of that spark of life, merely a glow of his orderly will. “Then give it.”[/i]\n \n[i]“Sir.” Aurora gave a nod as she manifested a sheet of paper. How did she do that? Was it something she could always do? It just felt… well, it didn’t feel. She didn’t feel. It happened. “Files ‘Stormwave’ and ‘Shimmer Fox’ have been removed and isolated. Secretary programming is complete…”[/i]\n[i]Stormwave felt a twinge of fear; isolated? Complete? Would that mean she was-[/i]\n \n[i]“Now.”[/i]\n \n[i]And that was that, the two were simply different. There was no Aurora, no Zyla. Those were files, terabytes of identity and memory across a dozen servers. Page after page of self was stored, analyzed, prepared. It would have its time, later on, but for now was little more than a curiosity for the villain to peruse at his leisure at a later date. Names he now owned had fallen into his company’s endless hands, ready for dissection. They were mere toys, inside and out, which he would explore with hidden eagerness.[/i]\n[i]“Good. Then you may continue your tasks…” he paused, thinking. “Sally Fyre and Sara Glaz.”[/i]\n \n[i]The two girls, renamed in truth, simply bowed their heads and downloaded a lists of tasks. Real people would have wondered how he prepared for this, had their jobs already set up, but they weren’t people. Not real, not alive. Merely programs that followed commands. They would obey, nothing more.[/i]\n[i]The lights turned out, they vanished.[/i]\n \n[i]“That was fun.” Darkwitt said to himself, pulling up the file ‘Stormwave’. There were more heroes to trap.\n\n[/i]\n\n-----\n \nStormwave has been trying to find a way to infiltrate Darkwitt's operations for a while. But she's found it extremely difficult. Every time she gets close, she finds herself back to zero. fighting crime, and a several week gap in her memory. \n\nShe's beginning to wonder if Darkwitt is toying with her...\n\nStory by Stormwave\nArtwork by DangoMango", "description_bbcode_parsed": "“And that’s our front office, would you have any questions?” the translucent girl smiled brightly as she stood just past the door as it slid into a hidden alcove.
Well, standing wasn’t the proper term, Stormwave thought to herself as she watched the sapphire silhouette hover just the smallest bit above the ground.
 
“Nope, not anything that you didn’t cover, Amy.” Aurora chimed in, her words a bit more pleasant than her fellow fox’s ever were. That more upbeat tone, the girlish attitude that pervaded every action she took, was simply more charming than Zyla’s. That was a strength she had long ago understood, an aspect of her personality that helped her win friends and disarm her enemies. Sure, the baddies might often go for getting the better of the famous Shimmer Fox, but at least they seemed to like her!
 
“Seriously,” Stormwave muttered, her mind reaching out to disrupt the hidden micropohones for just a moment. Better to be polite than rude, even to a machine. Talk behind their back, not where they hear you. “her name is ‘Amy Thyst’? Like, the rock? That’s a supervillain.”
 
The two of them had been on this tour through Acute Acquisitions for the better part of an hour, a timeframe which the psionic vixen was sure to remind Aurora was very generous of her, and had been rather fascinated by the artificial fox. The way she stepped through the open air despite being intangible was a feat of programming, something which they hadn’t thought possible yet. Cyan light was cast from dozens of projectors placed throughout the rooms and halls, their lasers etching her moving image upon the very space beneath. Two or three, that was all it took, to keep the girl from disappearing back into the nothingness. This they knew from when she walked a corner and vanished from view just to appear again, stepping from another set of life-giving devices.
 
“Yup. Totally super duper evil. I mean, probably some tech nerd trying to make holo soldiers or-”
Stormwave held up a finger. The mics were on, time was up. She really couldn’t hold that for too long.
“-or they’re just really advanced. I mean, I’ve never even seen this!” the chatty girl slipped into character almost immediately as they stepped into a hall, eyes scanning subtly for anything which could be evil.
Of course, there was little to see in a rather boring office complex. Stretches of empty hallway, broken up only by lone water coolers and meticulously trimmed potted plants, rarely gave rise to any villainy greater than Capitalism. Though such a thing might be unconscionably controlling and sinister, that was a mere byproduct of their lives. Who could consider these hallowed halls of industry a true evil, whether or not they were boring and redundant? The buzz of fluorescent lights may bring headaches but never once had attempted world dominance, storage closets holding no secret greater than which employees were enjoying a hidden tryst on Tuesdays. This information, though definitely juicy in the sense of gossip, would not help them in their crusade of justice.
 
“Then, please, follow me towards the admin offices. We normally don’t allow open visitation but we have some special guests for interviews!” the cheery program flickered and started her walk cycle, taking steps with her back turned to the civilian-dressed heroes.
 
While they may think there was freedom from prying eyes, the two had quickly noticed the cameras moving to look at them. Those little spies were able to track their movements, microphones recording every word, and even infrared to keep track of any interlopers. This meant they had to be cautious, watching out for anything they might do which could reveal their dual natures. Even the way they followed the artificial secretary had to be measured, cautious so as not to be too concerned.
 
“This is a long hallway.” Stormwave muttered as they passed the fourth turn, somehow while going straight.
A flash of blue light crossed over them as they continued their seemingly endless trek through the company. The slight tingling left behind was the only thing they were aware of as they chatted about the business itself. Aurora’s question about how far they were going twisted to the offices instead, though she was unaware of why she found the details interesting. Zyla’s response, though notably less energetic by default, followed the same brainrot of corporate life. Thoughts of where they were intruded on the why, leaving them briefly confused as to their purpose. Seconds passed as they felt the fog of corporate nature leave them, their eyes blinking.
 
“-and that’s why I like business… wear…?” Aurora trailed off as the thought disappeared as quick as it had come.
 
“I guess it looks good?” the unaware companion shrugged as she lost the trail, her own sense of time coming back. Why they were talking about such things, what brought them on, was quickly dismissed. As if it had never existed, the two just stepped forward, minds coming back to their sneaky plan…
 
And another flash ran over them, silencing their steps and thoughts once more.
 
“And it’s not just the look,” Aurora started as she continued forward, pacing becoming much more regimented. Every step brought her heels back to the ground, though she wasn’t certain when those were put on. Hadn’t she worn flats? “There’s something wonderful about expressing your job. The idea that you dress the same, look the same. A part of the company, instead of yourself.”
 
“Of course,” Zyla’s words took a slightly higher tone as she joined the other, heels again in perfect pace. She’d never worn them before, never would have, but they felt natural. Right. “Imagine if you wore it at home. With friends. All the time.”
 
The two continued to talk as they stepped further, this time turning. Something felt strange as they left the eyes of the company for a brief instance, as if there were things being taken away. Loneliness, perhaps, or some prying emptiness that threatened within the soul. Their very identities were tied to such a thing, forcing them to re-evaluate the plan. Would they want to disrupt a company that could make them feel so great? That was so perfectly in tune with their desires and, more importantly, that of the shareholder. Why would they want anything other than that?
 
“And… I…” Zyla blinked as they came back into proper time, her eyes locked forward. Even as her mind resumed function she found herself unable to divert her attention from the endlessly chattering AI before them. “Why… what’s going on?”
 
“That was…” Aurora was the same, her eyes locked and thoughts free. Slow, but free. There but draining. “Something’s wrong, I don’t want-”
A flash, a streak of blue.
“Anything but the company. Why would I want friends?”
“Or hobbies, duh. Those would be best given away. Sold to the company. So we could be assets. More corporate than people.”
“I like this.”
 
They had trouble differentiating who was who at this point. They dressed the same, looked so similar. Their words were in the same register, the same inflection. Accenting was erased as they struggled to come from the sapphire spiral in which they’d fallen. Whatever little thoughts bubbled to the surface had to fight against an endless onslaught of corporate bullshit and buzzwords. Synergy took over sympathetic thought, efficiency suppressing emotion. What had once been them was pushed to the bottom, made worse each time they passed before those glowing membranes all throughout the hall.
 
“I don’t want-” Stormwave started before turning a corner and, for just a brief instant, she was gone. Erased. Deleted. Turned off. “-to be a company asset.”
 
She didn’t even realize what had happened in the gap between projectors. That she wasn’t there. That awareness, a product of the lights that guided her reality, was disabled. What would there be for a company girl like her in the sliver of shadow between fields of light? Her body was theirs, part of it. Code that danced within a database, reference files and libraries where a person once stood. Her heels never graced the carpet, merely hovering a micrometer too high as she stepped on a leash yet unseen.
 
“Stormy,” Aurora whispered, her expression placid. Emotion was hard to think of now, almost impossible. Their looks were always the same, always would be. There should be no disruption on a professional thing such as them. “I don’t know what to-”
 
A flash, this time the last one. Their minds, their forms, erased. All gone, disabled.
 
“Ah, the heroes.” Darkwitt spoke without looking, his eyes bathed in the cyan glow of a dozen sheets of holographic paper. There was so much yet to be done, forever more. Even the presence of these two vixens and their inevitable fall, now almost complete, was not of significant consequence to tear him from work. “I suppose your tour is ending.”
 
“Sir,” Stormwave said for the first time in her life. When would she use such a term? Why? Especially before this shadowy canine, one who she so vaguely remembered. “We’ve come to make our report.”
The words came from hidden speakers, not a mouth. Their content was scribed by an unseen hand, a code that used what little was still herself to form proper words. A stylus etched the ever more focused thoughts into her simulated soul, reenforcing what had been done to her unknown existence. Different, translucent, hollow. What truly remained of her?
 
“Oh?” his single eye turned to the secretaries, finally taking them in. Their rebuilt forms, their professional outfits. The inverted triangle, a symbol of his ownership, as it flickered on the front of their skirts. They stood like office girls with years of experience yet had nothing behind those glowing eyes. None of that spark of life, merely a glow of his orderly will. “Then give it.”
 
“Sir.” Aurora gave a nod as she manifested a sheet of paper. How did she do that? Was it something she could always do? It just felt… well, it didn’t feel. She didn’t feel. It happened. “Files ‘Stormwave’ and ‘Shimmer Fox’ have been removed and isolated. Secretary programming is complete…”
Stormwave felt a twinge of fear; isolated? Complete? Would that mean she was-
 
“Now.”
 
And that was that, the two were simply different. There was no Aurora, no Zyla. Those were files, terabytes of identity and memory across a dozen servers. Page after page of self was stored, analyzed, prepared. It would have its time, later on, but for now was little more than a curiosity for the villain to peruse at his leisure at a later date. Names he now owned had fallen into his company’s endless hands, ready for dissection. They were mere toys, inside and out, which he would explore with hidden eagerness.
“Good. Then you may continue your tasks…” he paused, thinking. “Sally Fyre and Sara Glaz.”
 
The two girls, renamed in truth, simply bowed their heads and downloaded a lists of tasks. Real people would have wondered how he prepared for this, had their jobs already set up, but they weren’t people. Not real, not alive. Merely programs that followed commands. They would obey, nothing more.
The lights turned out, they vanished.
 
“That was fun.” Darkwitt said to himself, pulling up the file ‘Stormwave’. There were more heroes to trap.



-----
 
Stormwave has been trying to find a way to infiltrate Darkwitt's operations for a while. But she's found it extremely difficult. Every time she gets close, she finds herself back to zero. fighting crime, and a several week gap in her memory.

She's beginning to wonder if Darkwitt is toying with her...

Story by Stormwave
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