Rather than who was advertised, it turns out to be a villainous protege, 'Lady Deathsmite'! You all take her on!

A few seconds later, Wushu Panda is screaming hysterically as she tumbles and cartwheels around, trying to put as much distance between her and the mechanized menace that emerged from the truck as she possibly can. The heavy chugging of two automatic guns resounds throughout the room, tearing up the concrete floor and stacked crates around the beautiful martial artist. Apparently it didn't cross her mind that a villain piloting a heavy mechanized war machine might not share her ideals of honorable combat on an even footing, until the moment she was staring down those gun barrels.

You are struggling not to laugh at her confidence being replaced with terror. Admittedly, she's gotten a lot of mileage out of that whole 'lifetime of training' path to heroing, but there's a limit to how far hard work can take you.

Soon, Wushu Panda is left hiding for dear life behind a pile of rubble... and then the machine points its guns at you. "Ah, fuck!" you feel the sting of instant karma as you're sent running for your life too. You're faster than Wushu Panda but also less acrobatic. While you do, your copy, Lynn #2, charges at the towering mechanized terror and starts punching it... putting several large dents in its armor and leaping over the swipes of the blade, but then getting sent sprawling with a body-check. You pick up one of the fancy guns dropped by those guys you beat up and start shooting at the machine, sending showers of sparks and blowing off its blade-arm.

"LYNN! What are you doing?! Stop that!" Magik Knight shouts. "Heroes are not supposed to use guns!"

"When I took on the Motorheads down in Texas using their own machine gun against 'em, nobody complained!" you retort, dropping the gun and tumbling into cover to evade the counter-fire. "And I don't see you helpin'! Teleport that thing to the scrapyard!"

"I cannot, it's too big!" Magik Knight whines. She realizes she shouldn't have focused so much on shouting at you and turns to see the machine looming over to her. Unlike you and Panda, she's wearing elevated heels, which means she's slow on her feet. The machine grabs her with one huge, metallic fist around her slender exposed midriff.

Magik Knight's response is a haughty laugh. "You fool. Do you not know who I am? I can telepAHHHKKKKK!" She suddenly convulses as the fist electrifies and shocks her painfully before tossing her aside roughly.

You lay flat on your stomach, squishing your boobs against the floor as you watch your copy similarly sneaking around evasively. "That walking tank was brought here in a truck... and it's not cracking the floor under its feet. That means it ain't all that heavy... I bet that armor is just aluminum. Why, he's nothing but a big ol' tin can! If I was at full strength I could..."

You clench your fist. "Right, time to show these city girls how to ride a mechanical bull! HEY! ME!" You shout at your copy. "LET'S GET 'IM!" You run around behind the machine and your copy does likewise, though she looks less sure than you.

"See, he turns around slow! Time to use our full strength!" you shout at her, leaping right towards her.

Copy-Lynn's eyes suddenly go wide and she holds her hands up. "No, wait, you don't wanna-!" But before she can protest too much, the two instances of your buxom chest are slamming into each other and merging. A disorienting flood of memories and sensations washes over you as the number of "Lickety Split Lynns" in the world goes back to one.

...unfortunately, one of those memories you suddenly recall is how a botched long-ranged teleport by Magik Knight to try and bring your two instances together had gotten the 'other you' stuck in wall. And then... a perverted citizen had found her there, and...

"AAAAAAHHHHHHH! Fuuuuuuck!" A shudder runs through your body and your knees start knocking together. You sink to the floor and cover your crotch with your hands protectively. The fear, the humiliation, the violation, and the tingling excitement all hits you in a wave. It is so sudden that the mech in front of you, which had been just about to kick you, pauses as you suddenly begin writhing around on the ground.

It's the most bizarre sensation imaginable. All of a sudden you're cognizant of the fact that not only were you ****, you actually... felt good from it. And yet, there is a kind of mental distance from it that sets it apart from other memories. The one who experienced that was you, but also not you. Even though it happened just a few hours ago, and the images and sensations are vivid, you aren't... 'present' in the memory. It's like trying to remember something that happened ten years ago when you were a kid.

...and then, and THEN! The other half of you that was just reintegrated feels suddenly shocked when you realize that while all that was happening, a certain slavic teleporter took advantage of Wushu Panda rudely paralyzing you on the bed in order to... to make you... with your mouth...

"Magik... MAGIK!!! What in the good goddamn?!" you forget about the threat for a moment and turn on your lithe blonde 'friend'.

Magik Knight visibly gulps and her eyes widen. She just smiles and waves her hand flirtatiously before poofing out of existence.

Instinctively, you whirl around, seeking the target of your highly justified anger... just in time for that robot to slam into you and send you staggering back.

...but, you don't fall on your butt this time. Your cowboy boots scrape across the floor but you remain standing.

There's nothing like being partially deprived of your superpowers to make you appreciate all of that strength, speed and toughness all over again now that you've got them back. You clench your fist and flare your nostrils. The mech in front of you starts shooting again, but this time, three long steps allow you to circle around behind it in the blink of an eye. Before it can start to turn on you again, you've leapt up onto its back.

Just as you suspected, the armor of this thing looks imposing, but it's thin and flexible everywhere except for the center of the chest. First, you twist the head off like you're opening up a great big jar of pickles. Then, you trap the arm that it tries to reach back to attack you with, and, using your legs to push against the body, rip it right off. When the mech charges at you to try and body-check you again, you nimbly flip over it and land on its back again before kicking its legs out from under it, dropping it to the floor.

"It's over! You can give up, or I can flatten you along with your fancy toy!" you shout as you keep astride the thrashing, half-destroyed machine. You don't get any response. "Alrighty then, the hard way it is!" Over the next few minutes you brutally and systematically dismantle the lightly-built war machine, ripping out cables, folding its metal endoskeleton in half, and taking advantage of what you learned about machinery and metal fatigue in your uncle Billy's truck garage to ruin everything you can while riding it like a mechanical bull.

Eventually, you plunge your fist deep enough that you worry for a moment. But when you pull your hand back out, there's no blood or anything. Looks like this was just a robot after all, not a powered suit of armor. "Ah, I don't gotta play nice then. I'm feeling more than a little pissed right now. Lucky me that I get to really stomp a mudhole in yer ass now, Mister Robot!"

A few minutes of noisy smashing later, you're wiping sweat off your brow. There's no more movement from any of the metal bits your rampage has left scattered around. You contemptuously kick an oversized metal fist across the room like a soccer ball. "When you get to robot hell, tell 'em it was Lickety-Split Lynn that licked ya!" you proudly declare.

Magik Knight pops back in. "So... ah... It was all for the best. Sometimes anger is something to be harnessed and used, is it not, Lynn? Have you worked all of that anger and frustration out in a healthy way?" she asks.

"Hmmm, I dunno, Ilyana." you say, putting your hands on the curve of your exposed hip. "C'mon over here and let's find out."

Suddenly, an unfamiliar female voice sounds from behind you. "Hnh! I'll call that an end to the audition. I've seen enough."

You whirl around. Stepping casually out of the truck is a young woman about your age. She has long chalk-white hair and dark red lipstick. She's wearing armor made of form-fitting metallic mesh, with flared boots and a snug orange chestpiece tight enough to show that she's behind you and Panda in the bustline department, but not that far behind. She has a casual smirk on her lips.

"Ah!" Magik Knight points. "That is Deathsmite's logo, look!" she points out a stylized skull-and-crossbones on her chestpiece. "He didn't show up early, just sent more of his lackeys!"

The newcomer doesn't look impressed by Magik's deduction. "And such novices, too..."

You stare at her. "I think you might be confused, darling. We're not here to audition to join your boss. That would be the guys who we just put the smack down on."

The white-haired girl rolls her eyes. "I know that. I was talking to them. I've been waiting in there for almost a full day for some heroes to show up and see if these henchman prospects could at least last long enough to be useful as a distraction. Needless to say they came up well short of that mark. Looks like it's back to the help-wanted ads."

Wushu Panda finally comes out of hiding and does an acrobatic flip down from a pile of broken crates to confront the newcomer as well. "What? You mean Deathsmite isn't here? I was looking forward to matching my skills against his! Go ahead and summon your boss, underling girl!"

Once again, the armored girl in front of you looks contemptuously amused. "I don't think 'match' is a good choice of words. But no, he's not coming. You can all go home now."

You cock your head to the side. "Wait a sec... but I'd thought there was a big time villain moving in to set up a base in this here warehouse. La Petite Mort herself told me so!" you protest.

"Ah." the white-haired girl says, cracking her knuckles as she examines the damage. "I guess the news hasn't filtered down through the league yet. Deathsmite is taking a nice, relaxing retirement in a high security prison. He also happens to be my dad. So now, I'm taking what he's taught me and doing my own thing. You can call me..." she brushes a strand of hair aside and poses. "Lady Deathsmite. Or 'Dee' if you prefer."

Magik Knight rolls her eyes. "Bozhe moi... so unoriginal."

Wushu Panda laughs haughtily, which her squeaky, high-pitched voice makes sound more irritating than intimidating. "You just assembled a small army of wanted, murderous thugs to prepare for who knows what evil schemes, and you're politely telling us we can leave? Go home? Hah! What made you think that would work?"

'Lady Deathsmite' (you think you do prefer 'Dee') blows air through her lips. "Yeah, clearly news is slow to spread, I would have thought the League of Losers would have told you. Let me explain how it works: My daddy agreed to stay in his cell and stop causing carnage in return for my immunity. I told him I didn't need it, but you know how dads are." She glances at Magik Knight, then Panda, then you. "Actually, considering how trampy you three are dressed, maybe you don't know how dads are."

"You dare insult my family?!" Panda shrills. "Prepare yourself for-!"

"Hold up, I wasn't done." Dee holds up a palm to cut her off. "Basically, if I got taken to a cell, I'd be out before the weekend. The government knows that I'm the only leverage they've got to convince daddy not to bust out of their flimsy max-security prison and start another rampage. Don't worry, I'm not going to pull off anything so large scale or heinous that your League can't save face. You said it was that shrimpy scientist in the funeral dress who sent you, right? Go find a payphone, call her up. I guarantee you she'll confirm it if she just asks the Big Seven."

"Uh..." you say, folding your arms and giving her an odd look, "And pray tell, darlin', why would we do that instead of dragging you in and asking her in person?"

Lady Deathsmite takes out a scrunchie and ties her flowing hair back in a ponytail. Then, she pulls a small baton off her belt, presses a button, and causes it to extend into a full-length staff which she twirls over her hand. "I should think that would be obvious. So I don't have to beat you halfway or all-the-way to ****. Seeing as how I'm the daughter and protege of the world's deadliest mercenary and got all his genes. Should I go find a chalkboard? Just visualize it. You know the little 'greater than, less than' symbol? You plus you plus you," she points at each of you in turn, "is 'less than' me." she sticks a thumb at her own chest.

"Oh yeah?!" You take a challenging step forward. "Maybe YOU are the one who the news ain't been filtering to! I'm Lickety-Split Lynn! I can outrun a speeding train and lift a car! Uh, so long as it's a compact car and I got a bit of leverage. And that there is Magik Knight, she can teleport anyone she wants, and trust me, you won't like where that teleport goes! Then there's Wushu Panda, who..."

You trail off. The asian heroine at your left looks at you expectantly, and begins giving you a sour look. "Uhh," you stutter, "she can... do ancient Chinese punching magic."

Wushu Panda exhales loudly through her nose. "Ugh... close enough, I guess." she says.

"Anyway," you say, glad that the other two heroines seem to be letting you speak as de-facto leader of this little trio, "what kinda superpower do YOU have, daddy's lil' assassin?"

"The only one a mercenary truly needs:" Dee says confidently. "The power to horribly maim anyone stupid enough to pick a fight with me."

"Mahahahaha!" Magik Knight laughs in her seductive, velvety tone of voice. "Oh, you I like, darling. Such confidence. You have nothing special going for you, in other words. Yet you still think you can intimidate the girls who just crushed your entire gang while barely breaking a sweat?"

Lady Deathsmite rolls her head and limbers up, doing an athletic stretch. "You know what? You're right, whatever your name is." the white-haired villainess says. "I've been in my dad's shadow for too long. I need to put a few arrogant heroes in the hospital, or maybe the morgue, so I'll be taken seriously. Thanks for volunteering." She holds out her hand and beckons all three of you to 'come on' with her fingers.

That's all the encouragement Wushu Panda needs. Without delay, she starts acrobatically cartwheeling towards Dee, and executing a beautifully choreographed flying kick! ...a highly telegraphed flying kick which the young villainess easily sidesteps. Dee counter-attacks with sweeps of her staff but Panda flips over them and performs some high-speed jabs with her fingers to her body.

"Hah!" Panda strikes her favored panty-flashing leg-held-high pose. "I've just activated six of your strongest pressure points! Your muscles won't obey you any longer, you are now unable to move!" she says confidently.

"Hmmm." Lady Deathsmite glances down at herself as she stands still. And then, in a motion almost too fast to see, drives her fist into Panda's solar plexus. The asian heroine's eyes bug out and she topples backwards out of her fancy pose, rolling around on the ground and grasping her stomach, gasping for breath. "Nope." Dee says. "That acupuncture crap won't work on me. I've trained my body to resist gimmicks like those, and my armor includes shock absorbing pads over the points that paint-by-numbers fighters like you go for. All of those old fighting styles are rigid, predictable, and way too showy. I was kicking the shit out of 'grand masters' of this and that magical spirit animal style when I was 13 years old." She gives Panda a vicious kick to her midsection, and then stomps on her back as she tries to crawl away. "A good hit is just a good hit. It doesn't need a fancy name."

Dee sighs calmly and her eyes flick to you, then to where Magik Knight had been standing a few seconds ago. "Three... two... one..." Lady Deathsmite counts off softly.

All of a sudden, Magik Knight pops into existence right behind her, lunging for Lady Deathsmite to grab her by the shoulder and defeat her with a targeted teleport. But, without even turning around, the villainess brings her fist up and delivers a brutal, resounding backhand right to the blonde black-clad heroine's face. In spite of how much experience Magik Knight claims to have with the superhero world, one thing she is clearly NOT experienced in is taking a punch. She goes down like a sack of Russian potatoes and starts clutching her face with her hands. Turning around, Lady Deathsmite brings her leg high up in the air before delivering a vicious heel-drop right into Magik's exposed midriff, knocking the wind out of her too.

"And speaking of predictable gimmicks." the white haired girl says with a sneer. "I guess you're probably in too much pain to hear me, but maybe next time don't partner up with some trailer park bimbo who thinks it's a good idea to announce your capabilities to the opposition before you can make your move, huh?"

Your eyes widen. You've just been standing here, and only now do you realize this girl just effortlessly took out both of your partners in a matter of seconds. A shudder of worry runs through you as the white haired fighter fixes her steely grey eyes on you.

"Well? You gonna show me that power of yours? You smashed up a robot bodyguard that I clearly paid WAY too much for. Come here and give me your best shot. Or do you not have the nerve to, now that I'm not outnumbered anymore?" Dee asks confidently.

Pursing your lips, you charge towards her. She smiles confidently. But when Lady Deathsmite brings up her staff to get you in the face, you focus on that 'tearing apart' feeling again...

...and instead of the staff hitting you cleanly, you dodge to the left and to the right at the same time, because now there are two of you. The villainess falters for a moment, and both you and your new split-off copy throw no-frills, no-finesse roundhouse kicks at her simultaneously. While trying to dodge one, the other one gets her right in the back and knocks her sprawling.

Your copy, Lynn #2, speaks up first. "Oh, I don't know about that, darlin'." You exchange a meaningful nod with your copy as the two of you move to flank her on either side.

Dee flips back to her feet and positions her staff so one end of it is pointing towards each of the two of you to defend herself. But, then, you call on that same feeling as before, and push harder, focusing on the need to be in MORE than just two places at once...

And you feel yourself tear apart at the seams again. Now there are three 'Lickety Split Lynns' standing around Lady Deathsmite. Your first copy gets the same idea and splits herself in turn, making for a total of four.

"From where I'm standing," you say, "it seems like you're more outnumbered now than you were a minute ago. You may be fast, but you can't look every way at-"

Lynn #4 raises her fist. "Enough chit-chat! Let's git 'er already!" You and three Lynn copies all rush in simultaneously.

................

An indeterminate amount of time later, you wake up, smelling the dusty concrete floor against your lips, and tasting blood in your mouth. Everything hurts. The room is dark, and you feel excessively tight bindings holding your feet together, and your hands behind your back.

A pained groan escapes your lips. In a world where heroes routinely beat up crowds of thugs and henchmen outnumbering them a dozen to one, you really have no excuse for thinking that was going to work.