A Morning With No Alarms

Canvas Metropolis never slept quietly. Even at sunrise, the city hummed — delivery drones weaving between glass towers, hover-trams rattling over painted bridges, the distant cheer of street-food vendors setting up their stalls.

At the very center of it all stood the Paintbrush Fortress — two tall towers shaped exactly like giant paintbrushes, their tips glowing blue in the early light. It was the kind of building that made you stop and stare, even if you'd lived here your whole life.

Inside, Ms. Paintbrush Platypus stood at the tall window of her top-floor lounge, sipping a mug of kelp tea. Her blue-and-black supersuit was already on. Her giant glowing paintbrush leaned against the wall beside her like a faithful old friend.

She pressed her wide bill against the cool glass and watched the city below with quiet, steady eyes.

"Another beautiful day," she murmured.

Her comm badge buzzed on the counter behind her.

A Voice on the Wind

Ms. Paintbrush Platypus — the platypus superhero in the blue-and-black suit — picked up the comm badge. A voice crackled through, sharp and self-satisfied.

"Hey there, Paintbrush. Heard you're the fastest thing in Canvas Metropolis. Just wanted to let you know — that title belongs to me now."

She turned from the window. "Who is this?"

"Call me Quickstrike. New in town. I'm challenging you to a race. Sundown. The Northern Skyway Bridge. Come alone — or don't come at all."

Before she could answer, the line cut dead.

She set the badge down slowly on the counter. Outside, a city maintenance drone bumped against the window glass, beeped twice in apology, and wobbled off.

Her comm badge buzzed again — a different signal this time. It was the Fortress's security system. Someone had just tried to access the lower vault door. Not broken in. Just tried the keypad, quietly, and walked away.

Sundown was still six hours off. But something already felt very wrong.