CHAPTER SIX: FIRST PATROL

Greg adjusted his hoodie for what had to be the hundredth time, feeling absolutely ridiculous. “This is dumb,” he muttered…

Greg adjusted his hoodie for what had to be the hundredth time, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

"This is dumb," he muttered, staring at his reflection in the cracked mirror of his bedroom. His 'costume'—if you could even call it that—consisted of a black hoodie, dark jeans, a pair of running shoes, a cheap paintball mask he'd spray-painted white, and a pair of gloves to hide his fingerprints. It was the best he could throw together on short notice, but it didn't exactly scream hero.

"I think it looks cool!" Ruby chirped.

"It looks functional," Blake corrected. "Simple, yes, but that's not necessarily bad. You don't want to stand out too much on your first day."

"It's boring," Yang countered. "If you're gonna be a hero, you gotta have style."

"I'm not wearing a bright yellow crop top," Greg deadpanned.

Yang snickered. "Coward."

Weiss sighed. "This will do for now. But eventually, you'll need something more durable. A good Huntsman, or hero, takes their equipment seriously."

"Right. I'll keep that in mind once I, you know, actually havemoney."

"What's your name gonna be?" Ruby asked, excited.

Greg winced. He hadn't figured that part out yet. "Uh… working on it."

Then he sighed, shaking his head. Standing around arguing about his wardrobe wasn't getting him anywhere. It was time to move.

. . . . .

Greg's first patrol was… awkward.

Walking the streets at night in a hoodie and mask felt less like he was playing superhero and more like he was about to mug someone. He kept to the shadows as best as he could, trying to move through the quieter parts of downtown like he belonged out here, but it quickly became apparent that he had no idea what he was doing.

He tried to stay alert, keeping an eye out for trouble, but what was he even looking for? It wasn't like criminals walked around with flashing neon signs announcing their crimes. And even if he didfind something, how was he supposed to handle it? Just jump in and hope for the best?

This was stupid.

So far, his grand debut as a hero amounted to walking in circles and trying not to feel like an idiot.

"Patience," Blake advised. "Crime doesn't run on a schedule."

"Maybe we should've gotten a police scanner," Weiss added.

"I told you guys this wouldn't be like in comics," Greg grumbled. "I can't just wander around and—"

A crash.

Greg froze.

It came from a side street just ahead, followed by frantic shouting.

"Uh. Never mind."

Heart pounding, he took off toward the noise.

. . . . .

A small convenience store had its front window smashed in, glass littering the sidewalk. Inside, a masked man was shoving money from the register into a bag while another kept a gun trained on the trembling cashier. A third guy stood by the door, acting as a lookout.

Greg swallowed hard.

Okay. Three of them. One had a gun. This just got very real.

He could run. He should run. These weren't gang members, but they were still criminals. They had weapons. If he messed up—

"You're overthinking it," Yang said. "Just hit 'em hard and fast."

"Yeah, Greg," Ruby said. "We've got this."

"Totally. Just a gun. No big deal," he whispered.

"Focus," Blake urged. "You have the advantage of surprise. Use it."

Greg clenched his fists. Right. He had powers now. If he used them right, he could end this before they even knew what hit them.

He could do this.

Exhaling slowly, he took a step forward before his nerves could catch up with him…

And immediately crunched a piece of shattered glass.

The lookout's head snapped toward him. "Hey! We got company!"

"Oh, come on," Greg hissed.

The gunman turned, raising his weapon—

"Move!" Blake shouted.

Greg lunged forward, instinctively activating Ruby's Semblance. Everything blurred, rose petals scattering in his wake as he closed the distance in a blink.

He slammed into the gunman before he could react, knocking him off balance. The shot went wide, shattering a shelf instead of the cashier.

"Holy crap," Greg breathed. He'd actually done it.

"Don't stop now!" Yang barked. "Hit 'em hard!"

Greg barely had time to register what happened before the second thug lunged at him, instinct kicking in again. He twisted, leaving behind a flickering afterimage as the attacker swung and hit nothing but air.

The guy staggered. Greg used the opening to drive a punch into his gut, pouring the leftover kinetic energy from Yang's Semblance into the strike.

The thug went flying, crashing into a rack of chips and knocking over an entire display.

"Hah! Did you see that?" Greg grinned. "That was awesome!"

"Less celebrating, more fighting!" Weiss snapped.

The last thug—the lookout—was already bolting for the door.

"Glyphs!" Weiss ordered.

Greg threw out a hand, willing the strange energy in his body to respond the way he wanted. A shimmering white glyph flared to life at the thug's feet, right as he stepped onto it.

He skidded like he'd just hit a patch of ice, losing control of his momentum.

Greg sprinted forward, swung…

And promptly missed as his foot tripped over a fallen bag of chips.

"Whoa—!"

He crashed to the floor in an undignified heap.

The thug scrambled to his feet, took one look at Greg sprawled in the debris, and made a break for it.

"Screw this, man. I'm out!"

Greg groaned, rolling onto his back. "That was so much cooler in my head."

The store fell into silence, broken only by the cashier's shaky breaths. Greg picked himself up, rubbing the back of his head as he turned to face him.

"Uh. You okay?"

The man stared at him, wide-eyed. "You—you saved me."

Greg blinked. "I… uh, yeah. I guess I did."

Ruby giggled. "Told you you could do it."

The cashier hesitated, then managed a weak smile. "Thanks, man. That was incredible."

Greg felt warmth bloom in his chest.

It was a small thing, a single crime stopped, and a single person helped. But standing there, hearing the gratitude in the man's voice, Greg realized something.

This felt good.

Not only that, but he wasn't dead. Apart from his bruised ego, he wasn't even hurt.

He grinned under his mask.

"Yeah. It kinda was."

As he slipped back into the night, heart still pounding from the rush, he couldn't help but think one thing.

Maybe being a hero wasn't so bad after all.