The Switch That Clicked Wrong

In Solitude Mansion’s flight hall, Super Darlene hovered an inch above the floor, cape swishing like a flag in a fan.

“Okay,” she said, eyeing a steel practice dummy. “Big blast. Clean shot. Simple.”

She snapped her gray-gloved hand forward.

Pfft.

A spark popped like a birthday candle and died.

Darlene blinked behind her blue mask. “That was… cute.”

She tried again, jaw tight.

Pfft.

The dummy did not even get warm.

Her phone buzzed on a bench. A city alert banner scrolled across the lock screen: CERVINE METROPOLIS: DRONE TRAFFIC ADVISORY.

Darlene grabbed the phone, then forced herself to set it down.

“Nope. Fix first.”

She tapped a call.

“Juno,” she said when it connected, “bring your tablet. And the loud wrench.”

Minutes later, Juno rushed in, boots squeaking, orange jacket half-zipped.

“Please tell me you didn’t explode the ceiling again,” Juno said.

Darlene pointed at the dummy. “I can’t even toast it.”

Juno’s tablet chimed. “Uh… your blast is throttled. By something that isn’t my software—”

The Puddle Problem

Juno’s tablet made a sad little beep.

Darlene snatched up her phone. The city alert banner had changed: DRONE SWARM—UNCONTROLLED.

“Of course it happens today,” Juno said.

Darlene’s red cape snapped as she turned. “Hold on to my arm.”

With a pop like a soap bubble, the flight hall vanished.

They reappeared in a city laundromat. Washers thumped. A sign on the glass read SPIN CITY. Outside, a music festival speaker went boom-boom against the sidewalk.

A human woman with a yellow apron pointed. “Hey! Deer hero! The drones—look!”

Through the window, dozens of delivery drones zigzagged over the street. One plunged into a puddle and fizzed.

“That’s not normal,” Juno muttered, tapping her tablet.

Darlene ran out, hooves skidding on wet pavement. “Back up!” she called.

She aimed at the closest drone. “Big blast—”

Pfft.

Her spark pinged the drone. It jerked sideways and smashed a festival sign. The speaker toppled. Water splashed from a cooler, spreading into a shiny slick.

More drones dropped low, spinning toward the crowd as Darlene’s glove smoked