Chelsey grips the hood of her sweater and pulls it more tightly over her head before jamming her pale gloved hands back into her pockets. The rainfall lends credence to the sudden insistence on personal cover, even as the young woman’s eyes nervously dart to the source of the radio, the shopping trolley of an old homeless man in the alley. Even as she speeds up her steps, the rest of the report starts to find its way to her ears.

“The building has been revealed to be a records repository for the Grosvenor Group, headquartered in London. Though the blast lit up the sky for kilometers in every direction, today’s investigation revealed that it was largely cosmetic in nature. The device appears to have been armed on the building’s roof, which has taken the brunt of the damage.”

Chelsey glances down the street, taking in the Manchester skyline in the sunset. Now that things had been set in motion, she knew she had to act quickly.

“The explosion, however, seems to have triggered a series of much smaller detonations within the building. The direct destruction is minimal; however, a contact within the Grosvenor Group has remarked that the detonations set off an unexpected fire prevention system that has potentially ruined hundreds of servers and physical copies of ownership reports. The servers are likely backed up, but the loss of these physical records could result in legal battles if the Group cannot provide alternative proof of ownership of their properties. BBC has reached out the Duke of Westminster but has thus far received no comment.”

Chelsey releases a deeply-held breath, her hand gripping the door of the building before her tightly.

“Though the event sent grave echoes of the 2017 Manchester Arena incident, the investigation has uncovered a distinct lack of casualties involved. The building was nearly empty already, save for a nightly custodial group. One worker was near one of the smaller detonations and suffered light injuries, but otherwise no one was hurt or killed.”

*~*~*

Kayna grits her teeth and wipes the blood away from her nose, taking a moment to regain her balance. Declan shouts at her from the corner of the ring. Her opponent leers at her, rumbling out a laugh as he cracks his knuckles.

“Had enough yet, girlie?”

She smirks, winks at him, and lunges forward, head ducked and shoulders low as if to take him at the ankles. Just as her opponent reads it, lowering himself in turn, Kayna pops back upwards, launching herself into the air and twisting into a spinning axe kick at his exposed shoulder and back.

Beyond the chainlink cage, the crowd roars.

*~*~*

For a moment that lasts a lifetime, there is silence. The click of the door is the first thing to break it.

The alarms are the second.

CC: Shit!

She quickly enters the building, her eyes sweeping across the lobby, taking in points of ingress, cameras, the man at the desk, and the source of the nearest alarm klaxon. She spots a flashing red wall panel and stalks toward it, her target acquired.

No sooner than her second step, the alarm falls silent, just as suddenly as it began.

Chelsey raises an eyebrow, scanning the lobby one more time. Seeing no more flashing lights and hearing no further noises, she finally releases the breath she had been holding in a long, relieved sigh. Just as she pulls in that victorious second breath, however, there is a hustling sound, followed the thud of multiple sets of footsteps. From the two separating hallway entrances, two pairs of security guards pile out and form up. Two of them have riot shields and all four of them wield security batons. Chelsey frowns, her head lolling over onto its side to stare at the attendant at the desk. He smiles apologetically and shrugs.

*~*~*

Kayna lands her backflip perfectly, stomping down with both feet and maintaining her balance before thumbing her nose aggressively. She shakes off the daze and rolls her shoulders, beckoning her opponent to bring forth his best.

*~*~*

Chelsey cracks her neck from one side to the next, rolling her shoulders to shrug off the zippered sweatshirt she’s wearing. As it slides from her form, it reveals lengths upon lengths of chain wrapped tightly around her torso. She smirks and looses some of the chain with one hand, letting the slack dangle to the ground as she beckons the rent-a-cops forth with the other.

*~*~*

Kayna dodges a series of lefts and rights, bringing a forearm up to block each one that almost meets its mark. As her opponent overextends with his final strike, she redirects it downward and dances behind him, taking stock of his exposed back.

*~*~*

Chelsey sweeps the chain in a wide arc, slapping it across both shields as the two pairs press in. Even as they attempt to back her into a corner, Chelsey instead surges forward, using the slight hesitation to blitz the space between each pair, bodily forcing her way past the shield wall and getting behind the guards.

*~*~*

Kayna backs up from her pushing kick before charging forward, not letting the man across from her recover from his stumble as she takes two steps forward into a scissor kick for his head.

*~*~*

Chelsey’s chain wraps around the throat of one of the shieldless guards. He drops his baton and reaches for the chain to pull it away, but Chelsey is too fast, spinning into the chain to wrap it against her torso before kicking the now-tightened slack into the ground and bringing his head down with it.

*~*~*

Kayna is slammed into the ground as her opponent catches her mid-kick. She lets out a wheezing gasp as she lands.

*~*~*

Chelsey twirls backwards, releasing more slack on the chain. The shield guards once again try to flank her, but she moves outside of their range, releasing chain as she goes. Before the first guard realizes, she’s gotten a length around him entirely. He starts to react as she tightens the slick, wrapping the chain around his legs. He falls forward, his head slamming into the back of his own shield and causing him to fall in an awkward tumble of limbs.

*~*~*

Kayna puts her hands up to defend, but her opponent transitions immediately from the slam to a full mount. His rights and left rain down mercilessly, a wicked glint in his eye.

*~*~*

The other two guards also down, Chelsey gives the desk attendant a violent glare. Her eyes wide, she lifts up her hand, gripping the length of chain, and points at him accusatorily. He says and does nothing, petrified with fear. After a long pause, she drops the gesture, reaching instead for her sweater pockets. From them, she produces a few cans of lighter fluid and a book of matches. The attendant’s eyes manage to go even wider.

*~*~*

Blow after blow rain down on Kayna. With the last bit of breath she possesses, she lunges upward, landing one square punch to her opponent’s jaw. He takes it, rocking slightly, but returns fire with a hard right of his own, and everything goes dark.

*~*~*

The red security lights pierce the darkness as Chelsey sprints through the hallways of the tenement building. A security guard stands to block her, but Chelsey lets momentum take over as she vaults the man, twisting over him in midair and letting a loop of chain catch him around the face as she does. Once she lands, she backs up into him, using her lower center of gravity to take his legs out from under him and the chain around his face to flip him over her back and into the ground. Just past this point was the spot she had scouted, the X that marks the spot where everything would end.

In Chelsey’s mind, however, the flames were already raging.

*~*~*

It is 3 years ago. The location: Outside of Dresden, Germany. The fires have not yet started.

Two women confer on the roof of a palatial estate. One is clad in all black, with a sheathed blade at her waist and a series of knives strapped to her thighs. The other is Chelsey, flaunting much of her pale skin in a halter and shorts, with a chain belt that comes up around to rest on her shoulders as well. The two stare at each other, looking almost like night and day in the starlight. The words are silent, but the emotions are palpable. The dark clad woman, The Last Dragon, Lien Xinya, hides her emotions behind masks both physical and mental, but the insistence in her eyes is clear: She is here to deal with someone personally, and Chelsey is in her way. Chelsey, meanwhile, is much more obviously expressive: She just found out the owner of the mansion traffics children, and decided to make his life miserable. Lien’s index finger presses over her lips through her mask, indicating her desire for silence. Chelsey just nods, eyes empty of understanding – she hears but nothing is going through. Lien rolls her eyes and breaks away to sneak in via an open window.

The fires begin soon after.

What happens after is a blur. Screams, shouts. Peals of laughter as Chelsey takes on the security of the mansion’s owner, one Ansgar Krüger. Lien Xinya, slipping through the chaos unseen. Bodies being tossed into parts of the building structurally weakened by the fire, causing even more destruction. Lien, watching as Chelsey tears the mansion apart, guiding a group of lost, confused, and most importantly, innocent servants away from the flames and to safety. Chelsey, being dragged away by guards, presumably taken to a summary execution, and yet laughing all the way, her damage already beyond saving. Krüger, hand gripped around Lien’s throat, chuckling darkly before tossing her from the roof of the mansion as the flames licked up around him, the sounds of a rapidly approaching chopper in the near distance.

The casualties were low, relatively. A scant few servants, but mostly security guards taken out during Chelsey’s rampage who were unable to escape. Among none of those casualties, however, numbered Lien, Chelsey, or their target.

*~*~*

Chelsey releases another breath she finds herself holding, recalling the flood of memories even as the match burns in her fingers. The stairwell already reeks of lighter fluid, the soaked rainjackets of the fallen security force providing a pungent source of the smell in the corner of the room. Even as she looks back down the hallway, Chelsey can see the the doors of various tenements open, and the scared residents peeking out. She scowls, remembering Lien pausing everything in her pursuit of justice to ensure Ansgar’s servants got out okay. Much like these tenants, they hadn’t done anything wrong but live in the wrong place.

CC: God DAMN IT!

With that sudden, sharp curse, she tosses the match into the far corner of the stairwell room, causing it to slowly burn on its own as she stomps up the stairs.

CC: ALRIGHT EVERYBODY UP! WE GOTTA MOVE! WHOLE PLACE IS COMIN’ DOWN!

Chelsey dashes down the halls, banging on each door in turn. People start to stumble out of their rooms, looking dazed and confused. Chelsey just starts pairing people up together before pushing them towards the other stairwell.

CC: The south exit is off limits, head north and get out quick! Look after each other, check on your neighbors, but don’t wait or you’re not gonna get out of here!

Much to her surprise, the tenants take heed. Some of the more commanding among them take up the task of organizing, leaving Chelsey to return to knocking duty. Luckily, the building isn’t terribly tall, and also not particularly fully-rented. With less than half the units occupied, it is (relatively) little trouble to get people outside.

As this commences, the match strikes the lighter fluid, rushing along the line drizzled towards the soaked jackets, that catch immediately ablaze.

 *~*~*

The victor of the match stands in the middle of the chainlink cage, arms up, celebrating. Kayna is laying on the dirty ground, glaring down her fists, and back up at her opponent. For all her training, all of her planning, everything she’d done, it simply wasn’t enough. Kayna grits her teeth, feeling all that anger bubbling up within her, like the flick of a lighter to a puddle of kerosene. Suddenly she’s white-hot, pissed at herself for her failure, her opponent for being a smug sexist piece of shit, Declan for not coaching good enough, even Chelsey, for dropping in on her life and changing everything.

She does everything she can do to not release a primal scream of frustration, her eyes reflexively darting across the arena for some outlet for her rage. They rest on a length of chain, stuffed into a hole in the fence. The scream erupts regardless as she grips the chain and whirls on her opponent, holding the balled up chain tightly in both hands and bashing it down over the back of his head. He falls and she follows, falling upon him and savagely smashing the ball of chain into him over and over before unwrapping it and pulling it across his throat in a chokehold.

Declan glances over his shoulder and whistles nonchalantly as he wanders away from the newly-formed hole in the fence, all while fight attendants and ‘staff’ pile into the cage to separate Kayna from her victim.

*~*~*

Chelsey watches the fire burn, proud of what she has accomplished. Her reverie is broken, however, by motion within the doors of the building. Even as she notices them, one of the tenants does as well, pointing and calling out.

“Those security guys are still in there!”

Chelsey curses under her breath, and, considering one last time what Lien would do, ducks her head down and charges into the building one last time.

*~*~*

Kayna sits on the toilet in the stall of the seedy venue the fights were being held at this time. Considering the illegality of the entire operation, there was no police presence to be seen, and so her vicious assault was handled in the way of things underground: The very same crowd that had dragged her from her opponent had proceeded to kick the shit out of her until she couldn’t fight back at all.

Now that she could feel things again, Kayna slowly pushes open the door of the stall and stumbles to the sinks. She turns on the water, splashing the cool liquid into her face. As she does, she looks at herself in the mirror, taking in her appearance for the first time tonight.

Behind the blackened eyes, cuts, scrapes and bruises, she sees the paint: white instead of black, but almost identical to the style that Chelsey wears hers. Where Chelsey’s dark eye makeup contrasts her pale skin, Kayna’s own powdered white paint stands out against her dark skin.

Kayna stares at this broken, beaten, absolutely delightful figure before her, and laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

*~*~*

Chelsey drags the last of the security guards from the burning building. Knowing they are safe, she starts digging through their pockets, producing cell phones and distributing them out to the former residents of the now-defunct tenement. As she does, she starts to speak.

CC: This is a fortuitous day for you, my friends. Though your belongings may belong to the ashes now, you are, as we speak, being gifted with something even greater – the gift of sight.

Her finger thrusts backward, pointing at the building behind her.

CC: Many will speak on what happened here. Some of you may believe you know what happened here. Some will demand I be held accountable. To all of you, I make but one single request.

She brings her pointing arm back around, index finger still held out, but this time held out in front of her, pointed straight upward, in a gesture that suggests patience.

CC: I ask you to observe.

She pauses for effect before lowering her hand and continuing.

CC: The owners of your building, the Grosvenor Group, belong to the richest man in this region. He is worth over ten billion pounds, and the company that directly holds these deeds is valued even higher. And yet, despite this vast amount of wealth, they have chosen to save some of that money by not investing in a fire protection plan for this building!

Reaching in her pants pocket, she produces a form, which lists the name of the building, the Grosvenor Group stationery, and details the express dismissal of the Group to provide fire protection, citing the low chances of fire in the area and the building’s age making it cheaper to rebuild than to preserve. She hands it to the nearest resident, who looks it over before it begins being passed around the crowd.

CC: Perhaps they would have worked with you all to make sure you were housed in the new project, but where’s the guarantee? Look at just how few of you there are to begin with, and ask yourselves what’s more likely: That these faceless billionaires had a plan to save you or that these faceless billionaires were ready to let you die just so they could rebuild and rent to someone who makes a little more each month?

The crowd begins to rumble, coming to at least see where Chelsey might be coming from, as she continues.

CC: So I ask you, my friends, to just wait and see. If the Grosvenor Group proves me wrong, and comes to your aid, then I assume all of you have seen enough of me to get a good idea. Tell them that you were witness to the culprit, give the authorities every detail you know about me.

As she says this, Chelsey fishes in her pocket and tosses the contents out to the gathered crowd. From her hands, a stack of business cards flutters out, catching the wind and scattering in various directions as they flutter to the ground. They are particularly sparse, with nothing but an address scrawled into each one: The address of Chelsey’s dilapidated gym hideout.

CC: But if they do nothing? If I am right, the Grosvenors choose instead to let you twist in the wind? Come to that address. Find me there. Together, we will take from them what they owe you. I swear it by the lives we saved today, if you come to me, I will do right by you.

There is a stunned sort of rumbling acquiescence. None of the tenants feel strongly enough to stand up and agree, but none are ready to attack her for her actions either. Even the desk attendant from earlier is nodding, and begins to confer with others who have taken up the cards about their next plans.

CC: Now, take those phones I gave you, and these too. I’m gonna need ‘em back, so don’t drop ‘em!

The crowd pauses, confused, but Chelsey grabs her nearby duffel bag, left outside during the scuffle, and from it begins dispensing camera phones to the various tenants. Once they each have one, she begins to position them around her in a semi-circle. For the less tech-literate ones, she shows them how to set to video and how to hit ‘record,’ and finally, once they are all set up, smiles warmly and gives them the signal to roll.

As soon as she does, the smile drops, and Chelsey is all business. The cameras cover her from multiple angles, providing dynamic shots of her from all sides as the tenement burns behind her dramatically.

CC: Malevolence is upon us soon, Lien. That darkness that hides within us all is coming out to play. And though you may hide in the dark, my dear, I am the dark that hides within. The impulse to let go, to lose control, to burn everything around you? That’s who I am, Lien.

I spoke of your inner flame last time, but let’s be honest. Who lit that flame? Who was there that night, who introduced you to the blaze and showed you the beautiful shadows it could make? I won’t say I made you, Lotus, we both know that’s not true. But you know just as well as I that what started on that day was always heading in this direction.

You keep yourself so composed, but maybe it’s time to let that go? I stopped letting myself worry about collateral long ago, and look where it’s gotten me. I’m having a blast, and you’re always struggling to do the right thing. I don’t have that struggle, not like you. I always know I’m doing the right thing, because I never waver from doing what needs to be done. And during this show, my dear, you better do what needs to be done too, or you won’t survive.

It’s you and me, Lien. Pain on a Chain. You know what that means. If you don’t let that fire out, you will fail. Show me the Last Dragon that can burn the world down, Lien. Burn it down with me, and then, and only then, will I consider this matter finished between us. Let’s leave it in the ring, Lien, but I’m telling you, here and now, if you don’t, then I will never let you go. I will always be right behind you, in the shadow of your shadow, ready to burn you alive. If you can deal with that, then come with whatever. You act like you want this to be over with, so I need you to show me that.

Because you can damn sure bet that I’m going to show you.

Chelsey smiles malevolently into each camera, sweeping across them to get a variety of shots to edit for maximum creepiness to send to IIW offices, and we

FADE TO BLACK