Pinup sped through the streets of Lost Haven with Walter Kennedy in the passenger seat, and she noticed the pedestrians for what seemed to her like the first time in many years. They weren't straggling in groups of one or two, marching to and fro on private missions only they knew about, as one might expect to see from any standard pedestrian. There were groups. Groups separated by two categories. Crowds of people wearing STRIKE emblems clustered together, forming a friendship based solely on their badges, while plain-clothes civilians formed an equally strong bond based on the lack thereof.
The world was separating itself like oil and water, and to Pinup, it was painfully obvious. And she knew what would happen:
Oil would ignite.
Water would freeze.
And the world would destroy itself in a hiss of scalding steam.
Walter was not dumb to the ominous differences in pedestrian traffic. He looked uneasily out the window at the groups. Everything had seemed so normal not so long ago, but it was like an old oil painting - a serene pastoral landscape, but look too closely and all the cracks in the paint show, the chips sitting there delicately, waiting to flake off the aged canvas.
The car neared the Guardians' headquarters and Pinup slowed. A group was already forming on the street, and it made her nervous. Picketers held signs scrawled with hate messages against metas and the Guardians and STRIKE recruits patrolled the perimeter of the crowd as though they possessed real power. Stragglers, unaffiliated with the group, did their best to dodge out of sight, also sensing something was about to go terribly wrong.
The car came to a halt as it met the resistance of the group. People closed in around the vehicle and Pinup and Walter glanced uneasily toward each other. Pinup sighed. If there was going to be any way of getting into the Headquarters, it wasn't going to be in the car. She unbuckled her seat belt and, hesitantly, Walter followed suit.
Pinup opened the car door. Her ears rang with cries from the protesters as she stepped out of the vehicle and continued toward the building on foot. It was just a small group, at least.
"Walter, I want you to go ahead of me. Buzz the intercom and tell them who you are - they'll let you in. I'm going to hang back in case things get ugly when they see what we want."
"If things get ugly, I should be the one to hang back." Walter argued quietly as they walked, shoulder to shoulder, along the street. "The serum wouldn't do anything to me."
Pinup didn't answer, and Walter didn't press her, knowing that when she kept silent, she had already won the argument. Walter did as he was told and neared the intercom at the side of the building.
"HE'S GOING IN! HE'S ONE OF THEM!" A man shouted.
Pinup arched an eyebrow toward him, wondering how discreetly she could use her powers in a crowd like this. She decided to chance it, honing in on the protester. The rest of the world began to drop away into a gray fog as she centered her thoughts on the link between herself and the man. She was only barely aware of a woman yelling
"No, it's her! I recognize her from the news! She's one of them!"
A pinch in her shoulder caused Pinup to lose focus. The connection broke like a thin string and the world came flooding back. For a moment, she didn't realize what had happened. She reached up and removed a sharp dart from her skin.
Nothing, she thought. It doesn't work on me. My degenerative processes are too slow, it won't metabolize. I'm -
The world seemed to shake violently and she fell to the ground mid-thought. Her heart clenched in her chest and her breathing became labored. Cold sweat poured down her body as she was caught by the shock of how fast acting the toxin was.
"EMILY!" Walter cried hoarsely. He resisted the urge to rush to her side long enough to press the intercom button
"Yes, it's Doctor Walter Kennedy! It's Emily! Help!"