Second Meetings

The DMV smelled like old carpet, broken dreams, and someone microwaving fish. Flickering lights buzzed overhead as Serra White shouldered her way inside, clutching hospital reports about the Hypno Girls—the cybernetic goggles, the implants the doctors could remove easily, but the mental damage they couldn’t undo without knowing where the girls had been taken, what they had been trough. I can't believe someone would do this. If I want to save them—really save them—I have to find that lair. And the only thing connecting all the abductions is the white unmarked vans. She strode up to the counter, ready to demand records, when a smooth, too-confident voice cut across her momentum.

“Hello, dear, I have the same request.”

Serra didn’t need to turn around to recognize that voice—but when she did, the confirmation hit like a soft electric shock. Even in civilian clothes, June Matron looked immaculate: cream blouse, pencil skirt, sunglasses, posture so perfect it might have been printed in a catalog. And at her throat, hanging by a delicate silver chain, gleamed an orange gemstone. When Serra met her eyes, the thrum of talisman-recognition pulsed between them. Neither spoke the names—Virgo, Herra—but the tension sharpened instantly. They locked gazes like two duelists acknowledging an old, inconvenient truth.

“We settle this by right of Merlin,” Serra said quietly.

June’s lips curled. “Naturally. The superior magical girl finds the lead first.”

The DMV agent thumped a mountain of files onto the counter and wandered away without a hint of sympathy. Serra immediately attacked the stack like a woman on a mission—sorting by VIN, year, manufacturer, flipping pages so fast they fluttered like a malfunctioning fan. June watched her for all of four seconds, amused, before tapping a nail on the counter and lowering her sunglasses.

“Sweetheart,” she called to the clerk, voice smooth as wine, “which pile has the corporate fleet registrations? You know—the companies that order vans in bulk?”

The clerk perked up instantly, thrilled to be helpful, and pointed to a slim, neatly clipped folder half-hidden behind the massive stacks. June plucked it up with a smile so casual it bordered on cruel. “Thank you, dear.” By the time Serra looked over, June was already holding the Helix Dominion form.

“Found it.”

She lifted the paper like a trophy—commercial van, Helix Dominion, medical transport, expiring this month, warehouse address attached. Serra stared.

“How did you—”

“Experience, child, experience” June purred.

Then she leaned in close—perfume warm, voice soft enough to sting. “Now that we’ve established my superiority—graciously, I might add—you are going to join me tonight as we find out exactly what has been happening to those poor girls.” Her nail tapped the warehouse address. “You’re going to investigate it. And I’m going to follow… at a safe distance.”

Serra felt the wrongness immediately. Why would a magical girl ever not charge in? Why prove superiority with paperwork instead of on the battlefield? Why push Virgo forward instead of seizing the glory? Something was off. June was hiding something—and only she and Merlin knew what.

Serra stormed out with the file, the address, and the uneasy certainty she was walking straight into someone else’s danger. But she was Virgo. She didn’t back down. And June’s secrets could wait.