Meeting Tsukuri's other "partner".

Now Brandon was free to chase Tsukuri, and he followed her path into a simple hallway. He grimaced; searching the whole place would be a problem if Roulette hadn’t inexplicably hired only female minions. He settled for quick looks in each room—storage here, bunks there, more storage, a surprising amount of storage—until he reached an area he could only describe as a prison. Heavy metal doors with barred windows lined both sides of the central corridor, though most of them sat open with no prisoners—or competitors—to occupy them.

He turned to leave as he heard a voice that called him back, an alto as clear as a bell and just as hard: “Our quarters become less and less ironic by the day.”

“It’s only temporary.”

“And then what? On to another lightless den, where we can hide in a different barren room? How long can your Justice League keep their eyes trained for us specifically in light of the horrors facing this world?”

“Well, you did try to kill three and a half billion people, so.”

A scoff. “Men are hardly people.”

The pieces clicked together a moment before Brandon peeked in the cell door. Staring into a small wall mirror, bedecked in white and gold and wearing an expression he could only describe as an imperious pout, was the Amazon Aresia. A follower of all things superheroic, he knew of her and her misandrist plot to rid the world of men via a deadly pathogen, and along with—literally—half of Gotham he could thank her for a few hours of debilitating illness and a few days of fatigue as his body recovered. He’d not actually seen her before, what with her entire villain career only lasting a day or so and occurring mostly out of the public eye. She lived up to the hype, built like a professional wrestler (the old-school wrestlers, not the skinny swimsuit models they had on TV these days) with the presence of a queen, bristling with the untapped potential to smash the mirror and the three walls behind it. He could see why even Wonder Woman had trouble throwing down with her.

…allegedly. A lot of super-powered plots and fights took place in relative obscurity, only widely known thanks to dedicated information dealers and the Justice League’s own public relations arm. There was some debate among fans and pundits regarding the severity of any given threat, whether the League intentionally exaggerated the danger to make themselves seem relevant and necessary or downplayed it to prevent daily panic in the streets. Having witnessed the heroes in their downtime and mid-battle, Brandon was of the opinion that the press releases had it nearly perfect.

“Still,” Tsukuri continued, either ignorant of the incredibly scary angry woman a few feet away or totally used to it, “you did come within a hair of killing most of the Justice League all at once without even meeting them. You know why they have your number. It’s hard enough even finding another villain to host us.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Tsukuri pulled off her shapeless clothing, and Brandon was pleased to see her black catsuit underneath. Besides the normal joys of watching a slender woman cavort in skintight clothes, it was easier to recognize her when she dressed like a villain. “She’s hearing us out, though. Let all of her male employees go. That’s more than ninety-nine percent of women would do for us.”

Aresia pulled her tiara from her head and stared at it, muttering. “It’s ludicrous how many women willingly accept the yoke of their masters.”

“’Master’ is a strong word.”

“Is it? Men rule your nations, your economies, your culture, your very interpretation of history. Even now, we struggle to gather allies because women the world over are running in fear at the prospect of a scant few pieces of jewelry, each designed and wielded by a man retaliating against the limited achievements women have been permitted.”

Tsukuri paused after unzipping her catsuit. “How do you know it’s a man?”

“Tsukuri, my muse. It is always a man. What women would use magic to betray her own kind like this?”

“Circe?”

“…be that as it may, I find it unlikely that your former employer had no hand in our current state of affairs.” Aresia pulled the straps of her outfit down her arms, taking the top half of it with them, and yep, going braless was an Amazon thing. Though it was clear that her uniform afforded her some support, because without it holding her back, her bust size easily ranked among the top three women Brandon had met on the job. Her tits shuddered as she tugged her clothing down her waist, easily returning to peak roundness in an overtly unfair example of supervillain biology, and either she went without underwear too or she was efficiently exposing her blonde bush as long as she was disrobing anyway.

Tsukuri folded her catsuit and laid it on the cot, already rubbing her thighs together. He took a minute to feel her up through her panties and (unnecessary, if you asked him, but it wasn’t like he was an expert in how comfortable it was doing crimes without breast support) sports bra, comparing her skinny body to Roulette’s pronounced curves and Aresia’s buxom musculature. He was used to hourglass figures, but there was something about a smaller woman that brought out his biological need to dominate. Not that he could—she would break him into pieces if she knew he was taking liberties with her—but it gave him reason enough to grab her bra and yank it upward, watching her small tits bounce at the sudden motion. “Luthor’s harmless…ish. Near as I can tell, the League’s keeping tabs on his every movement since the last botched job. I doubt they even noticed that I’m out of Blackgate, assuming they care at all.”

“Let it be known that I care,” Aresia took Tsukuri’s chin in her hand and gently lifted her gaze upward. “And I treasure your gift for stealth. It is largely responsible for my rescue after the League disrupted our plan, and for my days since then away from their clutches. I may gripe about our situation, but I would rather a year in a cell with you than a day without.” She pulled Tsukuri closer with barely an ounce of effort, and their lips joined in a tender kiss.