The New Suit

His name was Thomas Cull and he was the very best at designing superhero suits.

The door to Thomas’s workshop opened with a soft mechanical whir, the dim lights flickering on as Rikki stepped inside, hood pulled low, pain still dragging along her ribs like a dull echo.

“Bout time you showed up,” came the gravelly, familiar voice from the back of the workshop. “You’re three hours late, and about three times more beat-up than usual.”

Thomas emerged from behind a hanging sheet of kevlar mesh, wiping oil from his hands with a cloth that had clearly already lost that battle. Sixty years old with a crooked smile and crow’s feet that deepened when he was either smiling or annoyed, which for Thomas was often both.

Rikki pulled her hood down. “I got thrown off a car park remember, getting anywhere right now is a struggle.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Ah. One of those weeks.”

“One of those villains,” she muttered.

He gave her a once-over, eyes lingering on the bruises peeking out from the collar of her jacket. “Rogue Knight?”

She nodded.

He whistled low. “Didn’t think he’d have access to those kinds of upgrades. Nanotech, crazy.”

“Mm-hm,” she grunted. “Electric-resistant. Adaptive. Hit like a tank. My batons are toast.”

Thomas shook his head and walked over to a covered mannequin in the corner of the room. “And yet, here you are. Half-dead, stubborn as ever, still standing. I keep telling you kid, this job doesn’t love you back.”

Rikki smiled faintly. “I don’t do it for love.”

He pulled the cover off the mannequin with a dramatic flair. Beneath it was a sleek, familiar silhouette: her suit. But not her suit, at least not quite. It looked nearly identical, matte black with subtle accents of deep midnight blue. But there was something different about it. Something stronger, denser, more lethal.

Rikki took a step closer. “It’s the same design?”

“To the eye sure.” Thomas grinned proudly. “But underneath, this baby is built with a proprietary weave of graphene-carbon mesh. Light as a whisper, strong enough to deflect blades, even bullets, though you’ll still feel them, mind you. Shock absorbers are built in but the kinetic ****’ll still rattle your bones, but it won’t split your skin.”

She reached out, running her fingers over the fabric. It was soft but firm, like touching a panther’s hide. “It’s amazing.”

“Damn right it is,” Thomas said, beaming. “But that’s not all.”

He stepped around the back and tapped her wrist bracer. “See this? Grappling hooks. Integrated. Both wrists. You’ve still got your usual ones too, but now you’ve got faster deployment if your hands are full. Just don’t tangle yourself up, yeah?”

Rikki blinked. “You gave me wrist launchers?”

“I gave you your own upgrades, sweetheart. The bad guys aren’t the only ones that get them.” Thomas’s smile softened. “You said you fell what, three stories?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes still on the suit. “It was a close one.”

“Rikki, I’ve been making suits for people like you for a long time. And I’ve buried more than a few. You’ve always played a dangerous game, but now things are changing. Criminals getting smarter, stronger, scarier.”

“I know.”

“You’re not invincible. And whatever kind of crusade you think this is remember, it doesn’t count for much if you’re dead.”

Rikki met his gaze, a flicker of something tender in her eyes.

“I’m not planning to die.”

“No one ever plans to die,” he said gently. “Now get out of here kid but be smart. Don’t give me another scare like that.”

“Thanks, Thomas,” she replied, her voice low but firm. Thomas packed the suit and gear into a secure crate and passed it to Rikki.

“Go get em kid.”