Tempest breathed out slowly, the noise near silent. His hand grasped a hand gun, finger settling on the cold surface of the trigger. His foot slid forward, his body weight shifting to inch forwards. The metal rooftop made some low groaning noises. Tempest wasn't worried. It sounded exactly like when birds plopped onto the landing for the night, to sleep or wait or poop. Tempest was doing the middle option.

Tempest didn't like waiting, but he understood the significance of it. Tempest knew that patience was a virtue that a hero had to afford sometimes. Jumping into danger wasn't just reckless, it was stupid and guaranteed failure. Tempest could afford patience, he couldn't afford failure.

Tempest gave a low chuckle. Technically, he couldn't afford anything. Tempest didn't work for pay like most heroes. He crashed with Clay at one of the apartment housing units in the Hero Association tower and ate that man's food.

"Are you in position?" Dream asked through the comms. This was the usual way of Tempest's missions functioning. He was Dream's sidekick, working alongside the masked clad hero instead of on his own. Last time was an easy mission, so Tempest took it alone, telling Dream to take the night off. Tempest didn't regret that choice, but he did ponder how it would have gone differently had he asked Dream to tag along.

"Overhead, ready for the next step," Tempest responded as he put his gun away into a pocket. He lowered his body until he laid flat on the rooftop. He pulled himself to the edge of the roof, lowering his upper body while keeping his legs on the roof. With his body folded, Tempest had an upside down view of what was happening inside the warehouse. Tempest pulled himself down as far as possible without falling off.

Men and women- no children- were walking around the warehouse. There was one guy in the center of the room, directing everyone on where they should move boxes and cargo. To anyone else, this looked like merchants burning the midnight oil. Tempest knew better. This was one of the facets of a large smuggling ring that circulated illegal goods from Hermitcraft, Cogchamp, and L'Manberg. If the speculation on the files were to be believed, what was being smuggled in was unregulated potions from Hermitcraft and what was being smuggled out was gunpowder to Cogchamp. The Heroes Association dispatched Dream and Tempest to deal with that nights shipment, hopefully capturing someone willing to strike a deal against the main corporation in exchange for a nicer sentencing.

"Ten men and women visible, seven males and three females. No visible weaponry, unknown status of powers," Tempest laid out the facts for Dream. He was about to continue when something caught his eye. In the corner, standing on some of the wooden crates, a teenager was sitting there in a... bee costume? Tempest's eyes widened as he looked around more, finding another child in a galaxy purple and white cloak. Tempest cussed when the two teenagers jumped into fighting.

"We have a problem. Two vigilantes arrived on scene and have initiated contact with the smugglers," Tempest told Dream.

A slew of muttered curses met Tempest's ears. When Dream chilled out, he told Tommy, "We move in, anyways. Stick to the plan. Try to send them all to Spawn. If possible, send the vigilantes there as well for the Heroes Association to deal with."

"Understood," Tempest said. Tempest kicked his legs in the air, flipping off the roof like he was doing a back bend. As Tempest fell, he put his hands together, a red shine glimmering around him as his descent slowed. Tempest hit the ground without feeling any pain. Tempest turned around, kicking open the door with his gun locked and loaded.

Everyone froze what they were doing to look at the intruder. Tempest's eyes peered through the mask before he shot the guy closest to him. The red bullet went straight through his brain, and soon he had dissolved into smoke that had sent him to Spawn. This made everyone spring into action.

Tempest slid out his knife as one smuggler approach, body tilted to the side while his arm was thrown back to create momentum for a punch. As the person swung, Tempest side stepped, hand shooting out to slit the guys throat as he stumbled over his feet. His eyes widened in surprise as he choked on the blood filling his throat before he was off to Spawn.

A cowardly smuggler tried attacking Tempest from behind. He was able to get a strong kick in, pushing Tempest into the punch of another man. Tempest let his hand hit the ground as he stumbled back, leg hitting up one after the other so he hit the puncher in the jaw twice. Tempest landed with his body low to the ground, eyes flicking between the kicker and puncher. Tempest threw his knife at the leaner of the two. Because he dodged to the side to avoid the knife, Tempest had a chance to launch himself forwards, tackling the kicker to the ground. Before the kicker got any ideas, Tempest raised the gun to the kicker's head.

Poof. One more to Spawn.

"Hey!" Puncher was upset to loose his friend. Tempest dodged a double fist punch, his toes getting clipped to make him hiss in pain. Puncher straightened up, using his foot to stomp down on Tempest's leg. Tempest flinched as the pain hit, pretending he had passed out from pain. He heard Puncher laugh at him. As the smuggler lifted Tempest by his collar, a bullet was in his head before he could think, blood dripping from his jaw and hairline where the bullet had entered and left. The puncher looked at Tempest with betrayal on his facial features as he was sent to Spawn.

Tempest looked around to see the bee boy struggling with a woman that Tempest hadn't counted before. Bee boy was wearing black pants with two diagonal yellow strips around the thigh and two around the calf, and a horizontal line around the knee. These were tucked into bright yellow boots covering his ankles with loose black strings tied in big loops. An orange rubber belt was loosely hanging off his hips. A low v-neckline, sleeveless yellow shirt was over a black long sleeves shirt with a brown jacket over it with fuzz around the neck and waist. The sleeves of the jacket ended in yellow gloves. To keep his identity unknown, bee boy wore goggles and had antennas sticking from his head. In his hands was a thin rapier with a bee handle that he was using to fight the woman.

The woman was far more casual. She wore maroon jean shorts with frayed edges like they'd been cut at mid-thigh. She wore a gray, long sleeves sweater with two thin lines around each sleeve, above and below the elbow. She had black tennis shoes and a black mask around her face. Her cloudy blue eyes peeked above the mask, and her long blonde hair did nothing to hide the elven ears. She was wielding a scimitar, clashing against the rapier with precision and focus.

Tempest drew his long sword as he slipped the gun to its pocket. Tempest dove forwards, his blade slamming against the scimitar and rapier as they clashed. Tempest pushed his weight onto the rapier. This sent the woman and bee boy stumbling, and bee boy lost his grip on the sword. Bee boy fumbled after the weapon as Tempest faced off against the woman.

Nothing against the kid, but Tempest was the better swordsmen. The villainess was toying with bee boy the entire time. Now that she had a real opponent, she was worried about losing. When backed into a corner, a person must use every advantage they have. This is when Tempest discovered the woman's power. When the villainess slipped away from his eyesight, he couldn't hear or smell her anymore. Tempest closed his eyes to try and remember what she looked like but the face came up blank. All he knew is that he fought a woman, not her face or what weapon she used.

Someone cut his arm, blood slipping out. Tempest cursed as he twisted on his feet to face behind him. The villainess was there, and Tempest now remembered who she was. Tempest deduced that he needed to keep her in his eyesight, or else she would become unnoticeable and disappear from his memories.

Tempest slammed his sword out, and it hit against the scimitar. Tempest swung his leg up to kick the villainess in the stomach. She stumbled back, and Tempest aimed another strike with his sword at her heart. She rose the scimitar up to deflect the blade, pushing against Tempest's chest when his followed his blade forwards. Tempest merely slammed his knee up, throwing the villainess over his shoulder so she fell face first to the ground. The villainess rolled instead of face planted, her eyes lifting to Tempest's with barely contained rage.

Tempest would have attacked again, but he heard a low whine and a frightful shriek. Tempest turned his head to see bee boy and darkness incarnate sitting underneath a crane that was holding up a box. Dream was steadily sauntering towards the two, his neon hoodie dripping in their blood. All the smugglers had been defeated. The villainess was on her last legs as exhaustion crept into her bones. Tempest would have left Dream to deal with bee boy and the other one. However, Dream had stopped in his tracks, looking up before looking back at the vigilantes. Tempest noticed it as well. The crane's cargo was about to fall onto the pair. Dream wasn't doing anything.

Save the vigilantes or capture the villainess. Tempest didn't like the ultimatum.

The cargo fell.

He threw down his sword, running with every bit of energy he had left. Seconds before the vigilantes would die, Tempest slammed a hand against the wooden crate. A red ripple pulsed against the surface as the crate gently floated above the vigilante's heads. Tempest didn't stop. He slid onto his knees underneath the crate, pulling out his hand gun. He aimed the weapon at Dream.

"We don't kill people, Dream, and we don't let them die," Tempest said. Dream didn't reply. He walked up to them, and pushed the crate aside as if it weighed nothing. Tempest looked at the crate, touching it again as soon as it wasn't overhead. The red pulse seemed to go in reverse back into Tempest's palms. The crate crashed into the ground with a resounding boom that made Tempest flinch. Tempest put the gun away. He stood up, hoping to speak with Dream, but the hero didn't look at him as he left the building. Tempest looked around. The vigilantes and the villainess were gone, leaving during the chaos. Tempest cursed.

—

He floated down onto the rooftop. When his weight returned to normal, Tempest hopped onto the fire escape. He climbed down each one before finding the third one down. Tempest gripped the edges of the window, pulling it open. Tempest slid onto the windowsill before plopping down into the room.

Tempest knew that this was the living room, dining room, and kitchen area of the apartment. Small but homely, Tempest thought as he nudged a plant of allium flowers with his foot. Tempest pushed his cold hands into his pockets as he waited for someone to notice him. This apartment was all the way in Snowchester distract, the coldest biome where it snowed year round. Tempest's suit provided temperature control, but his hands were left unprotected.

"Ah!" Someone shouted. Tempest looked at who noticed him. Brown haired boy with dark eyes and antennas. The bee boy Tempest had encountered earlier in the night. "What are you doing here?"

"Dropping by. Making sure you two are alright. Postponing the inevitable," Tempest shrugged his shoulders. A good person would say he came because he was worried about the two. A good hero would say they came to apprehend the vigilantes. Tempest would say he came because he didn't want to face the Heroes Association after a failure of a night.

"Oh... um... I'm Tubbo. Uh... Yellowjacket is my official vigilante name," The teenager said with an embarrassed flush on his face, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "We're fine, me and Ranboo. A little upset we didn't get the smugglers ourselves, a little frightened from almost dying, a little awed from meeting our heroes."

"That's good news. If Dream hurt you badly, I wouldn't mind paying for some the medical bills," Tempest offered. He could always ask for some cash from Bad. He didn't ask any questions and would probably be glad to help someone in need if Tempest did decide to tell him.

"...in-instead... could you... um... how do I put this... ha... uhh... teach me... sword?" Tubbo stuttered out. Tempest was not expecting that one. He blinked at the silence around them. "I-if not, that's okay. YouTube is a good teacher!"

"I'll help. I can't say that when I'm on duty I won't try to capture you... alive... but after hours, I'm not a hero, just a man whose good with swords," Tempest responded. If the teenager was fighting crime, it'd be better if he had experience and skill. One couldn't last on luck and villains pity forever.

"Thank you! Is there anything else you needed?" Tubbo asked. "Ranboo is putting Michael to sleep so you won't be able to see him."

"No, it's fine. I'll be on my way."

Time to face hell.