Tommy stands on his feet in front of a mannequin, leaning down to make sure the folds of the skirt are secured to the waistline. He tugs on them experimentally to make sure that it won't come loose when Nymph is in the middle of a fight. When the cloth remains secure, Tommy takes a step back. He glances up at the head attached to the mannequin. The featureless structure is adorned by a circlet made from double-helix metal. The centerpiece of the circlet, a gemstone, glimmers in the lamp lighting of the room. Tommy reaches his fingers to hover in front of the gemstone. He does not touch it for fear of what it will do, but he does sense a faint heartbeat the closer he pushes his fingers toward it. This is proof that the eye of the elder guardian bonded with Nymph, and a further deterrence against Tommy touching it.

Tommy takes a step back. He admires his handiwork, but he is searching for mistakes in every shadow. He needs this suit to be perfect, after all. In his day-to-day life, the worst that could happen is a customer gets caught in a fashion malfunction. The same cannot be said for Nymph. The worst that could happen for her out in the field is if her clothes are made of poor quality. The armor needs to protect her. The style needs to identify her. The general vibe of the costume is meant to terrify her enemies, make her reputation known with a single glance. If anything tears or breaks, Nymph's life could be forfeit. Tommy cannot let that happen to the closest thing he has to a friend.

He also can't do that as a businessman. Tommy doesn't have plans to start selling suits professionally, but he doesn't think it would be so bad to do commissions for people that come looking for him. Making these costumes is as fun as it is stimulating. It also provides Tommy with the opportunity to meet interesting people and see fascinating sights. The other tailors at this shop have never seen Netherite, phantom membranes, or the eye of an elder guardian before. They have never gone on a ship with the Hunters, and then went on the Hunters' submarine to see an ancient sunken temple. Tommy was terrified every single second of all these occurrences, but his heart is leaping in his chest at the thought of being able to do it more.

No one will come to Tommy if he's not able to make quality clothing. Phantasm's suit is still holding together, but Tommy isn't confident in Nymph's outfit. One blunder, and she's suddenly naked and defenseless in the field. Tommy bites his lip, tilting his head to the side. He makes a slow circle around the mannequin. He uses his hand to push aside different parts of the material. They bend when they're meant to, and they remain firm in the place they're meant to. Everything about the suit is perfect, and yet, Tommy feels like it will turn into threads on the ground the moment Nymph takes it out of this shop.

Tommy shakes his head. His power is not illusion-making or an area of effect that makes his creations stable. If the suit is holding up right now, it will hold up with a little wear and tear. Even if it doesn't, it isn't going to disappear at a moment's notice. Nymph is going to be fine. Tommy shouldn't assume that he's already failed when the suit hasn't even come off the mannequin yet.

The radio cackles with static, falling silent. Tommy glances over at it. He watches as the window starts to open. Tommy jumps into a defensive position, his fists pounding both with his own heart beat and the one of the person putting one leg through the windowsill. A man is staring at Tommy. He wears a pair of goggles with a hood covering the top of his head. The rest of his outfit looks like stolen pieces of Enforcer garb, some of it ill-fitting and other parts smudged with ashes. Even though he doesn't wear anything that hides his identity particularly well, the secret charm hanging off his outfit somewhere is extremely thick. Tommy can barely keep his eyes on the man, but he forces his eyes to stare into the man's eyes as they both look at each other. There is a beat of silence on the second floor of the tailor's shop.

Tommy shoves his hand at his desk. He shoves a lot of random items off the edge. They make a loud noise as they crash, but Tommy's fingers curl around the handles of a silver pair of scissors. He holds the scissors in front of him. The light rolls across the edge of the scissors. Tommy feels safer with the blade pointed at the mysterious man, but the man with the secret charm doesn't seem intimidating. His expression only sharpens, eyebrows narrowing his eyes as he looks Tommy up and down. His lips curl into a sneer as he asks, "Where is Nymph?"

"I don't know," Tommy hisses truthfully. Nymph is supposed to be coming over today to pick up her suit, but he doesn't know where she is right now. She goes on patrols nearly every night, so she could be anywhere on the island. Tommy tries to catch her name in the radio broadcast, but she isn't mentioned a lot. Tommy has no idea what her patrol route even looks like. The man has come to the wrong person, though maybe not the wrong place.

"You're going to have to do better than that if you're trying to lie. I know that you two have been in cahoots," The man says with a bitter laugh slipping into his tone. "Now, tell me where she is."

"I'll fucking stab you," Tommy threatens, lifting the scissors up and taking a small step forward. He doesn't know where his confidence is coming from or why he won't just sell Nymph out, but he's gotten himself stuck in this situation. At least this man isn't here because he thinks Tommy is a healer.

The man throws his head back to laugh. He is still smiling as he raises an eyebrow at Tommy. The air around them starts to grow thicker with heat. Tommy flinches, looking around for a source of the heat. He finds his answer when the man opens his fist. A lone flame dances at the center of his palm, flickering and giving off a faint trail of smoke that disappears out of the window. The man's eyes shine dangerously in the firelight. The scissor's take on a muddy red hue. Tommy wonders what he looks like in the firelight. "What can a civilian do to me?"

The man leans forward. He pushes his hand forward, aiming the flame at Tommy's body. The blonde tenses, preparing for a fight. The man's humored smile disappears. "Now, where is Nymph? I won't ask again."

Tommy's brain short-circuits in the face of fire, and his body acts without asking for permission. He rushes forward at the man. He is able to see the fire sputter out temporarily as the man's eyes widen in surprise. Tommy has enough sense to drop the scissors. He tries to stop his body, but his foot catches on the wood. He trips forward, crashing right into the man. This collision results in the man losing his balance as Tommy hits his knees against the wall underneath the window. As Tommy winces, rubbing his knees, he notices the man's leg lifting up. Tommy stares up, meeting the panicked eyes of the man as he tries grabbing onto the windowsill. His fingers slip. His body plummets backward. Tommy reaches to catch him, but he cannot get a firm grip of the bulletproof vest. The man falls out the window, and Tommy hears a sickening crunch as the body hits the ground.

Tommy swallows, taking a heavy breath. He nearly vomits from shock. He holds back his vomit. He turns away from the window. He practically throws his body down the stairs, rushing to get to the man. He pulls a key out of his pocket. He nearly drops it as he tries shoving it into the keyhole. His other hand reaches for the alarm. He rushes to put the numbers in. He gets that on the first try, but unlocking the door takes him a few more times. When he is able to get the shaking of his hands under control, the key slots into position. Tommy twists, and the door opens. A humid wind rushes across Tommy's skin. He ignores it as he spins around the side of the building into the alleyway.

The man is lying flat on the concrete. There is blood spilling all around him. His heartbeat is growing fainter. Tommy's hands light up instantly, his powers activating without his consent. Tommy decides to worry about what that means later. For now, he slides across the ground to reach the man faster. His knees do not appreciate this maneuver, but Tommy hardly cares as reaches for the body. The golden light spills from his hands, searching the body for the most fatal wounds. The blood continues to soak into Tommy's clothes as the light finds the source. Tommy thinks he's about to start crying, and he knows he's going insane the moment a prayer to the universe forms inside his mind.

Against the odds- or in accordance to them considering Tommy's powers- the man's eyes open. They are clouded over with a gray film. A rough breath punctuates his chest. Tommy leans closer. He feels something drop inside of his stomach as another surge of power leaves him. Tommy grabs the man's shoulders, trying to infuse the light directly into his skin despite the thickness of his bulletproof vest. Tommy refuses to let go or look away from the man until his eyes are clearing. His lips part, his increased breathing matching his healthier heartbeat. Once they're out of the danger zone, the fear leaves him all at once. Tommy sighs, crumpling inward.

"Did you..." The man starts. He stares at Tommy, and then his eyes widen with anger. "You pushed me out of a damn window!"

"You were threatening me! I acted out of self-defense," Tommy yells back immediately. He didn't want the man to go out the window. He only wanted him to douse the flame. Tommy didn't think words were going to get through to him, but he should have known that shoving him wouldn't have done much, either. Tommy panicked, but at least he fixed his mistake.

"There's so much blood," The man whispers to himself. He puts his hand down inside a puddle of it. Tommy's nose wrinkles. The man lifts his hand back up, staring at the blood dripping across his palms. He uses his other hand to start feeling around his body. Tommy winces, purposefully looking away. The man isn't going to find a wound, and he's going to know the truth. Tommy bites the inside of his cheek. He didn't have another choice. He either could have revealed his secret or let a man's blood be on his hands. Tommy would make the same choice again, though he probably would have done the healing at a distance and ran immediately.

"Tommy? Salamander!" A voice yells out. Tommy rises to his feet, rushing towards the entrance of the alleyway the second he recognizes the voice. He hides behind Nymph, staring at the man- Salamander- from over her shoulder. Nymph puts an arm up to create a buffer between Tommy and Salamander. The man only levels Nymph and Tommy with a bewildered glare, his lips parted slightly as a million questions filter through his mind.

"Nymph, this man showed up out of nowhere. He threatened me with fucking fire to get me to tell him where you were. I didn't say a word," Tommy explains to her, feeling a lot more confident with Nymph here than when he held a pair of scissors in his hands. Nymph is a vigilante. It is her duty to protect civilians like Tommy. More than that, Nymph seems to like Tommy. She would obviously save him... right?

"You left out the part where you pushed me out of a window!" Salamander proclaims, gesturing up to the open window.

"It was self-defense!" Tommy argues, looking between Salamander and Nymph to see which one of them she believes.

Nymph closes her eyes with a pained expression. Tommy feels something freeze over in his gut. Nymph takes a deep breath. When she opens her eyes, the expression is gone. She looks calm and collected. She looks over at Tommy. "Can we go upstairs?"

"Of course," Tommy tells her. He keeps one eye on Salamander as he walks around the corner of the tailor shop. He opens the door for Nymph. She steps inside. When Salamander tries entering, Tommy shoves the door shut with a heavy glare. Salamander sneers at Tommy, then looks past him at Nymph. Tommy opens his mouth to tell the man off-

Nymph puts a hand on his shoulder. Tommy looks at her. She moves her hand to hold the bar that helps push and pull the door. "Can Salamander come, too?"

Tommy narrows his eyes at her, sliding his gaze over to Salamander. The man has not taken his eyes off Nymph once. Clearly, there are a series of words on his tongue. Tommy sighs, looking down at his shoes. He thinks, and with a groan, he shoves off the door. He walks up the stairs. He hears Nymph open the door. He hears Salamander and Nymph's boots against the floor as they follow him up. Even if they were as quiet as a mouse, he can feel both of their heartbeats. Nymph's is a little erratic, and Salamander's pumps with strong emotions- probably anger considering the look he keeps giving Nymph.

As Tommy steps onto the second floor, he is met with the figure of the mannequin wearing Nymph's costume. Tommy curls his fingers along the shoulder of the costume, setting his skin against the cold spaulders. Tommy steps away from his creation as soon as Nymph leads Salamander onto the second floor.

Like Tommy, she immediately sees the mannequin. Her eyes widen as she rushes to look at the front of the costume. Her fingers brush every surface. She pulls at the skirt, holds the hips of the breastplate, and touches the pink-and-blue edges of the wrists. Her fingers finally lift to touch the circlet on the head. She touches the gemstone without a second of hesitation. The room instantly feels a little more humid, though that could also be from the open window. Tommy ignores both the people in his room as he shuts the window. He turns the radio off, deciding that it wouldn't be good for his favorite radio hosts to interrupt his conversation with Nymph and Salamander.

"Can I put it on right now?" She inquires, looking over her shoulder at Tommy with bright, adoring eyes. Her mouth is pulled into a beautiful smile. Tommy feels a flush of pride harden inside his chest.

"Can I get an explanation?" Salamander asks, ruining the moment by butting in. Tommy glares at him. Salamander doesn't look at Tommy. His angry eyes are focused on Nymph.

"Salamander, this is Tommy. He's helped me a lot... in more ways than one," Nymph tells Salamander with a patient tone and kind eyes. She turns, lifting one arm to Salamander and the other to Tommy as a way of connecting them. She looks at Tommy, offering him an explanation as well. "Salamander is the person who made me into a vigilante."

Tommy remembers that story. She was a civil servant in the government until she made a huge mistake. She said a vigilante saw potential in her and taught her how to make up for the mistake she made. Tommy was expecting someone older and probably more... wise than Salamander. Not someone as emotionally volatile, at least. Instead, he watches as Salamander takes a step towards Nymph with something worse than rage flaring in his eyes. "Rumor has it that you aren't a vigilante anymore."

"Well, shit, did I make a suit for nothing, then?" Tommy asks, disappointment evident in his tone. He frowns after a second to think. Nymph can't be turning into a hero; she hates the government too much. She can't be retiring; she promised Tommy that she would continue helping people. She might be joining the Hunters, but Nymph seems like the type of person that wants to save lives.

Salamander glares at Tommy like he's an idiot. Nymph's body language tenses, and she waves her hands around. She purses her lips together, saying "It's... complicated."

"I don't think there's anything complicated about you joining the Syndicate," Salamander inputs, his tone surprisingly cold for how hot the fire in his eyes is burning. The moment Tommy hears the words, he takes a deliberate step back. Salamander expressions lighten up for a half-second, and he starts clapping, slow and bitter. "Thank you for finally understanding the gravity of the situation, Tommy."

"It is complicated," Nymph tells them both, her gaze hardening as Salamander continues clapping and Tommy takes another step away from her. "I'm not turning into a villain for the fun of it. I've recently come to realize that my goals align with that of the Syndicate."

"And what goals might those be? Chaos? Bloodshed? Revelry?" Tommy asks, his voice tight and hollow. He feels pain flare inside his chest. Even if he could use his powers on himself, he knows that it isn't a physical wound that's making his chest constrict.

"I don't want any of that. The Syndicate doesn't want any of that. We want equality and peace," Nymph explains. She sounds like she genuinely believes that. She sounds like she's willing to defend it.

"Through anarchy," Salamander adds, leaning forward towards her as if he's about to share a secret. His voice is a rough whisper as he continues, loud enough for Tommy to hear. "You are going back to being the same person that burned down-"

"I am not going back to that!" Nymph cuts Salamander off with a yell, all anger and blades. She closes her eyes tightly, taking a big enough breath that her entire chest moves with it. When she opens her eyes, she meets Salamander's eyes unflinchingly. They are close enough that Tommy thinks he can see sparks popping in a rapidly forming mist. Nymph continues, her words coming out slowly and sharply. "I have just found a better way to go about it."

Salamander clearly doesn't agree with the one his hands tense into fists. Tommy watches them with a mix of fear and anger rising in his body. He lets all of his emotions out in a sigh. He leaves the two of them to their staring contest as he marches over to the mannequin. He isn't careful as he tears the different pieces off it. Fortunately for Nymph, Tommy made the suit well, so it remains intact even as he gets the last piece off. By the time he is finished, Nymph has turned to look at him. Even Salamander is raising an eyebrow. Tommy piles the clothes into arms, shoving them into Nymph's chest despite her new status. She looks at Tommy as if he's stabbed her, but he doesn't show a hint of remorse on his face. "Good luck on your journey."

The kind words are weakened by Tommy's frigid tone. Nymph's eyebrows come together, and she responds. "Thank you."

Tommy snarls. He throws Nymph's circlet into the pile of clothes in her arms. He levels her with a glare. "Our deal is done. We have no obligations to each other, so you can leave."

Nymph frowns. Tommy ignores her. He looks at Salamander, remembering that the man is still there. Tommy sighs. "There shouldn't be a debt between us since it was my fault that you were pushed out the window, but I'm willing to make you a suit."

"I appreciate the offer, but no, thank you," Salamander states, shaking his head.

Tommy nods, taking the words at face value. Now that everything has been said, he literally shoves Nymph and Salamander to the stairs. Salamander takes the hint, climbing down the stairs without prompting. Nymph lingers on the first step. She holds her costume close to her chest. She wears a pained expression. She opens her mouth, maybe an apology but more likely an explanation, but Tommy beats her to it. "I never fucking want to see either of you ever again."

Tommy has never been powerful. He's always been weaker than the other foster children. He's always been weaker than the other street kids. He will always be weaker than the vigilantes and villains that have sometimes passed through the second floor of the tailor shop.

But he discovers that he is able to inflict pain on others. Nymph's face as she walks away from him is proof of that.