Central - Superheroine

The skyscraper didn't have a name on it anymore. Not a visible one, anyway. To the citizens of Meridian City, it was simply known as Superheroine Central —a gleaming tower of glass and steel where the world’s most powerful women lived, trained, and waited for the call.

shouted Nova, whose gravitational powers were useless if she couldn't anchor herself. She hopped on one foot through the common area, her fiery red ponytail whipping behind her. superheroine central

But at Superheroine Central, that was just another Tuesday. And they wouldn’t have had it any other way. The skyscraper didn't have a name on it anymore

Not the red one—that was for earthquakes, kaiju, or alien invasions. This was the purple alarm. The tricky one. The one that meant: someone’s messing with reality again. shouted Nova, whose gravitational powers were useless if

They looked at each other. Nova grinned.

sighed Lynx, whose claws were currently retracted as she painted her nails—a surprisingly delicate operation for hands that could shred titanium. “Unplug it. Breathe. You’re not a toaster.”

On the 47th floor, the simulation room sparked and hissed. Inside, a teenager named Mirage—who could create solid-light duplicates of herself—was failing spectacularly. Her three clones had just walked into a holographic wall, one after another, like lemmings.