I Don't Want To Be A Hero

Chapter 7 Broken City

Ben carried Davina through the shattered streets of York City, weaving between overturned cars and burning debris. The air tasted like smoke and chemicals, thick enough to sting the back of her throat. Below them, the drug‑amped brutes continued their rampage—hurling chunks of concrete, smashing storefronts, roaring with inhuman strength as civilians fled in every direction.

Davina tightened her grip around Ben's shoulders. "What's the plan?" she asked, her voice steady despite the chaos. Their comms crackled to life, finally synced.

"Lucifer is by the pier," Leeann reported, her tone clipped and urgent. "Looks like he's getting ready to leave the city. He's got a whole crew loading crates onto a cargo boat."

Davina reached into the metal case strapped to Ben's back, fingers brushing the cold glass of the syringes. "Speed, take the cure and neutralize as many of the drugged-up people as you can. I'll keep a few doses on me in case I run into any."

She slipped the syringes into her utility belt with practiced precision.

Ben glanced down at her. "What are you gonna do?"

"I'm heading to the pier. I'll hold off Lucifer as long as I can. When you're done, meet me there and we'll finish him together."

Ben grimaced. "Is this really the only plan we have?"

"It's probably the only one that will work," she said, though her voice carried a weight that suggested she wished it weren't true.

He exhaled sharply. "See you at the pier, then."

In a blink, he vanished in a streak of blue lightning.

Davina landed lightly on her feet, pulling out her grappling hook. She fired it toward a rooftop, the line snapping taut. With no vehicle—thanks to her last‑minute decision to come to York City—this was her only way across the urban maze.

She swung from building to building, the wind whipping her hair back, the city's screams echoing below. By the time she reached the pier, the sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the water. The air smelled of salt, diesel, and something metallic—something wrong.

She crouched behind a stack of rusted shipping containers and raised her binoculars.

Lucifer stood at the edge of the dock, barking orders. Men hauled heavy crates onto the boat, each one marked with a symbol she didn't recognize. Her stomach tightened.

"Speed, what's your status?" she whispered into her earpiece.

"I… A…t… Ble… Ho… Ff…"

Static swallowed the rest.

She frowned. "Speed, repeat."

Silence.

A cold knot formed in her chest. Something had happened. Or was happening.

But Lucifer's crew was nearly done. If she let him leave now, she might never track him again.

She couldn't wait.

"Hurry up—we're running behind," Lucifer growled. His voice was deep, gravelly, threaded with irritation. His black hair, streaked with grey, blew in the wind. The long scar across his eye caught the fading light.

Her scar. The one she'd given him.

He turned at a faint noise behind him—only to see nothing. Then a scream tore through the air. One of his men vanished from sight, yanked into the shadows.

Lucifer's smile stretched unnaturally wide. "So… which one of you heroes has graced me with the honor of their presence?" He turned slowly, savoring the moment. "Perhaps the famous Speed?"

"Perhaps not," a voice answered.

Lucifer spun around.

Siren stepped from the shadows, her silhouette framed by the glow of the dock lights. Her eyes were cold, her stance unshakable.

"You don't belong to this city," Lucifer said, his grin twisting into something feral.

"The same could be said for you," she replied.

Lucifer chuckled, low and unhinged. "Your reign of chaos is coming to an end," Siren said.

"Far from it," he purred. "This is only the beginning."

He drew a knife—long, serrated, wickedly familiar. "Too bad you won't be around to see it."

Lucifer lunged, the knife glinting under the dock lights as he swung with wild, unrestrained force. His movements weren't trained—they were feral, unpredictable, the kind of violence born from a mind that had long since fractured.

Siren dodged, the blade slicing past her cheek close enough to feel the air shift. She hit the ground in a controlled slide, boots scraping against the wooden planks.

Lucifer laughed—a jagged, broken sound that echoed across the water.

"YES! Run, little bird! Let me hear you scream!"

Siren rose slowly, eyes cold. "You're unhinged."

"Unhinged?" He tilted his head, smile stretching too wide. "No, no, no… I'm free. You heroes are the ones trapped in your rules. Your morals. Your pathetic little lines you won't cross."

He slashed again, this time in a wide arc meant to force her back. She ducked under it and countered with a sharp elbow to his ribs. He grunted but barely reacted—either too drugged or too deranged to feel pain.

"You don't belong here or anywhere near here," she said, circling him.

"Oh, but I DO," he crooned. "This city sings to me. Screams to me. And you—" he pointed the knife at her, trembling with excitement— "you're the only one who came to dance."

He lunged again, faster than she expected. The blade grazed her arm, drawing a thin line of blood. Lucifer froze, staring at the red smear on his knife.

"Ooooh," he whispered. " How Pretty."

Siren didn't give him time to savor it. She struck—two quick punches to his jaw and temple. He stumbled, laughing even as blood dripped from his lip.

"That's it!" he shouted. "HIT ME AGAIN!"

She didn't. Instead, she swept his legs, sending him crashing onto his back. The knife skittered across the dock.

Lucifer lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky, giggling like a child who'd just heard a joke only he understood.

Then he sat up abruptly, head twitching.

"You know, I always wondered what you'd be like in person," he said. "The infamous Siren. The ghost in the alleys. The whisper in the dark. I thought you'd be taller."

Siren didn't respond. She kept her stance tight, ready.

Lucifer's grin widened. "But you bleed. You breathe. You break. That makes you fun."

He lunged again—bare‑handed this time.

Siren caught his wrist, twisted, and slammed him into a crate. He roared, thrashing like an animal, strength fueled by madness and whatever cocktail he'd pumped into his veins.

"You're alone!" he spat. "Your little speedster friend isn't coming. I made sure of that."

Her heart clenched—but she didn't let it show.

Lucifer leaned in close, breath hot and rancid.

"And when I'm done with you, I'll burn this whole city down just to watch the colors."

Siren shoved him back, fury igniting behind her eyes.

"You're not burning anything."

Lucifer's smile sharpened.

"Then stop me."

TO BE CONTINUED