The Quiet Corner of Tower Four

Ms Paintbrush Gecko skimmed past the four paintbrush towers, her black suit’s paint splats blinking like tiny signs.

She landed on Tower Four’s balcony and peeked at her phone. “City feed looks calm. Too calm,” she muttered.

Inside, the supply bay smelled like fresh primer. A stack of sealed paint canisters blocked a narrow hallway.

Click. Click-click.

Ms Paintbrush Gecko held her breath and eased closer. “Hello?”

A deer kid popped out, almost bumping his antlers on a pipe. He clutched a hand mirror and a bent spoon like it was homework.

“I’m not stealing!” he blurted.

“I didn’t say you were,” Ms Paintbrush Gecko said, lowering her shoulders. “What’s the clicking?”

The kid swallowed. He angled the mirror. A thin stripe of light slid sideways, missing her eyes by inches.

Ms Paintbrush Gecko blinked. “That was… neat.”

“Please don’t tell,” he whispered.

She hesitated, then tapped her phone. “Text me. Name’s Paintbrush. Meet me after school in the tower cafeteria.”

The kid stared at the glowing contact card and—

Puddles on the Plaza

Fern’s fingers shook as he stared at Ms Paintbrush Gecko’s glowing contact card.

He stuffed the mirror into his hoodie pocket and bolted.

“Hey!” Ms Paintbrush Gecko barked, then sprinted after him, boots thudding out of Tower Four and onto the plaza between the paintbrush towers.

A few speakers for a tiny music festival sat on crates. Rainwater made big puddles that reflected the towers like wobbly pencils.

The lights blinked once.

Then everything went black—tower windows, billboards, the snack kiosk, even the little drone camera hovering near the stage.

People gasped. Someone’s electric scooter rolled and bumped a bench.

Ms Paintbrush Gecko yanked out her phone. The flashlight cut a hard white cone across the puddles.

Fern, the deer kid in the gray hoodie, hissed, “Turn it off! They’ll see!”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

A short-haired woman in a delivery vest shoved a cart of sealed paint canisters past them. “Emergency! Keep moving!”

A fox in a green rain poncho slid in, snatched a canister strap, and darted away.

Ms Paintbrush Gecko lunged.

Fern lifted his mirror, tried to bend the phone-beam… and accidentally sprayed the light straight across the plaza