“Do you smell that?”

“Yeah, of course I do. Warburg stinks.”

Anton stuffed his hands into his pockets and snorted. The cool night air formed a cloud of vapor on front of him as he did so, and he tugged the hood of his sweatshirt over his ears. The red-furred panther seemed more bothered by the cold than his ursine counterpart, who was wearing a matching t-shirt that read “Warburg Warrior Athletics” across the front. He occasionally sniffed and made a face, silently expressing an even deeper annoyance at whatever had caught his nose.

“That can’t be normal.”

“Dude, it’s fine. Nobody in the city gives a crap about this part of Skyway. This is Hell’s Armpit, Hunter. Deal with it.”
The black bear snorted again, shaking his head. “Aw, it’s not THAT bad.”

“Sure, it’s a great vacation spot,” Anton muttered, sardonic intent dripping from every word. “Just so long as you ignore the drug deals, the crackheads, the roving bikers, and the freaks.”

“The what?”

As if on cue, a deafening explosion shook the ground. Smoke billowed from somewhere about four blocks ahead of the two teenagers, tinged with a deeper red hue that suggested something far different from normal fire. Hunter’s eyes widened, but after the initial shock of the explosion, Anton just sighed. “See? Freaks.”

“I don’t get what y-…”

“You wanna see for yourself? Fine. C’mon.”

Anton took off running towards the scene, the heavier set bear not far behind. The look on Hunter’s face was one of reluctance and slight terror, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Anton. As they approached, he reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but it was going to be either really good or really, really bad.

* * * * *

Through the thick pillar of smoke, a single figure came flying out. It was hardly in a controlled manner; he slammed hard into a large truck parked along the side of the street opposite the burning building, nearly toppling the vehicle over in the process. A white tiger clad in black and violet tights slid to the ground and staggered a little bit, eyes focused forward as violet sparks danced across his paws. They tightened into fists and the sparks vanished, only for him to thrust his palm forward. The air turned even more frigid than it already had been, launching shards of ice into the window out of which he’d been flung.

“I’d worry less about this dump and more about your own hide.”

A gruff, bass-filled voice echoed from above the street, echoing from somewhere within the plume of smoke still rising from the building’s window. All that could be seen from the figure to whom it belonged was his upper half—a very muscular Rottweiler with a spiked collar, two cigars wedged in his mouth and billowing even more smoke into the air. His paws twitched slightly and deep red flames engulfed both his forearms. “Y’know what, kitty? I’m gonna do you a holiday solid and let you run home with your tail between your legs. I’m not all bad, see?”

The canine’s laughter didn’t seem to amuse the tiger at all. A thin mist formed at his feet, quickly filling the area as thunder and lightning seemed to split the sky overhead. Instantly, the Rottweiler’s laughter stopped immediately, and amusement turned to instant irritation. “So that’s how it is? Well then. Nice knowin’ ya.”

The roar of flame that streamed from the Rottweiler’s paws was nearly as deafening as the earlier explosion. The tiger rose a few inches off the ground, eyes glowing a pale violet color before disappearing into the fiery onslaught. The flames rapidly cleared in a rush of steam, his entire body and the damaged vehicle behind him shielded by a spike-covered dome of ice. It showed no sign of melting, only serving to infuriate the flame-throwing canine.

The flames intensified as he bore down on the shield, the roar of flame looking far less erratic and more like a blow torch. He snarled and suddenly dropped from the sky like a rocket, crashing into the shield. The sound of its shattering filled the air, along with an enormous, obscuring cloud of steam. The sky overhead was clearly visible and ominously overcast. A bolt of lightning streamed downward from the sky, followed by a painful sounding canine howl. The force of the blast alone was enough to clear the cloud away, shattering every window in the vicinity with the ear-splitting clap of thunder. The canine fell to his knees and forward onto his face, twitching every now and again on the cold asphalt. His form was completely solid, eyes vacant in his unconsciousness.

The tiger was standing over him, nonchalant as ever, his right paw held up to his corresponding ear. “…that’s right. Burnout is down. VERY down. We’re at 5th and Raymond.” He paused long enough to survey the area, spotting two teenagers half-hidden behind a car at the end of the block. The sound of multiple car alarms didn’t even seem to register, nor did the sound of sirens closing in on the area. One of them was holding up a phone. His eyes narrowed a little bit and there was a distinct flash in his already glowing eyes. The streetlights flickered violently for a brief moment, and the ursine teenager nearly dropped his phone. When the siren lights were clearly visible, the tiger disappeared in a flash of lightning, leaving nothing but a scorch mark on the street where he’d been standing.

* * * * *

“Ah, my phone!”

“See? I told you NOT to!”

Hunter poked at his phone for a few moments. “I think he… I think he drained the battery! From way the hell over there!”

“See? I told you, man… freaks.”

“So who was that?” Hunter sighed, giving up on his phone and stuffing it back into his pocket. The pair remained hidden for the most part, moving to a nearby alley when the police cars and fire trucks showed up. With his hood still up and shading his eyes, Anton peeked around the corner, watching several officers in heavy duty riot gear slap a strange looking pair of handcuffs on Burnout before hauling the drooling, knocked out Rottweiler off.

“Which one? The one throwing fire was Burnout… I hear he’s an officer in one of the biker gangs that hangs around Warburg. No one knows the other guy… They keep calling him ‘Thunder Tiger’ on TV, but no one’s ever actually heard him say two words, so who knows if that’s what he calls himself.”

“Huh. Still… that was pretty cool.”

“It gets old.” Anton shook his head, walking further down the alley and away from the scene altogether. “I can’t wait to get out of this dump… Nothing but trouble.”

“I dunno. The way you help out around the group home, I thought you liked living here.”

Anton smirked faintly. “I tolerate it. Big difference. Besides, might as well make somebody’s life easier while I’m here, right?”

“I guess so,” Hunter replied, hands clasped behind his back as the two of them walked. “So… what would you do if you had freaky superpowers like that?”

The red panther gave Hunter a look, a single eyebrow raised. “What kind of question is that? What are you, twelve?”

Hunter laughed, hands up defensively. “Hey, it’s just a question! I mean, you can already do all that… flippy, jumpy stuff.”

“Dude, freerunning is NOTHING compared to what these overpowered monsters can do around here.”

“I know, I know… but I’ve never seen anyone do that parkour stuff and not have broken a limb or two.”

“Pfft. The way you toss people around a wrestling mat, I’d figure you were one of those superpowered weirdos, too.”

Hunter laughed again. His amusement was almost infectious; it made Anton smile despite the very obvious contempt he had for the super-powered type. “Nah… I wouldn’t even compete if I had that kind of strength. Doesn’t make much sense, y’know? Besides… I don’t think I’d leave here until things were better. Less crime, less people living in fear… Seems like an exhausting way to live.”

“Tell me about it,” Anton muttered, eyes straying to his watch. “We’d better hurry and get back home anyway, or we’re gonna be late.”