The courier bag weighed seventeen kilograms.
Spade Bonifacio knew because he'd weighed it three times before accepting the job, once on the client's scale, once on his own, and once more out of paranoid habit that had kept him alive for two years in this business. In a world where your power determined your worth, and his power was rated D-minus by the Bureau of Aspect Classification, paranoia wasn't a character flaw.It was a survival skill.
He adjusted the strap across his chest as he navigated the crowded streets of New Manila's Commerce District, keeping his head down, his stride purposefully unremarkable. The afternoon sun beat against the back of his neck, and the familiar press of humanity surrounded him---the new humanity, the evolved humanity, the humanity that had left people like him behind.
A woman passed him on the left, flames dancing casually between her fingers as she lit a cigarette. C-rank Pyrokinetic, probably. Further ahead, a man lifted three crates at once with visible effort, muscles bulging with enhanced strength. D-rank Physical Enhancement.
Everyone had a rank now, everyone had a number that defined them... Spade's was so low it might as well have been a joke.
"Silken Sense," they'd called it when he'd awakened six months ago. The Bureau testers had looked bored as they'd documented his abilities. Enhanced spatial awareness, minor thread generation, adhesive properties in hands and feet. One of them had actually yawned while typing up the report.
"Spider-aspect," the senior examiner had said, not even looking up. "Low manifestation, minimal combat application. D-minus classification. Next."
Just like that, his future had been decided. No corporate sponsorship, no government recruitment, no hero academy invitation. The awakening that should have changed his life had instead confirmed what he'd always suspected...even in a world of supernatural powers, he was still ordinary... but ordinary people learned to be careful.
Spade felt it before he saw it, a disturbance in the flow of foot traffic ahead, like ripples in water spreading from a stone. His power stirred beneath his skin, that subtle sixth sense that had developed over months of courier work. It wasn't dramatic like the heroes on television, wasn't flashy like the ranked fighters who competed in the Colosseum broadcasts.
It was just... awareness. As if invisible threads extended from his body, trembling when something disturbed the air around him.
Three men were pushing through the crowd ahead, moving with the kind of purposeful aggression that meant trouble. Spade's eyes flicked to their hands, no visible weapons, but that meant nothing now. Weapons were obsolete when your body was the weapon.
He diverted left down a side street, quickening his pace without running. Running drew attention... running made you prey.
The side street was narrower, lined with vendor stalls selling pre-blessing electronics and black-market power enhancers that probably didn't work. An old woman was grilling skewers over a portable stove, the smell of charred meat mixing with exhaust fumes. Spade kept moving, his awareness expanding outward like a web, feeling for disturbances.
There, footsteps behind him. Two sets, moving faster than the crowd's rhythm. His heart rate increased, but his breathing stayed controlled. Panic killed you... panic made you stupid.
Spade turned right into an even narrower alley, this one barely wide enough for his shoulders, lined with the backs of buildings and emergency exit doors. The sounds of the main street faded behind him. His fingers tingled, not with fear, but with the familiar sensation that preceded thread generation. The spider-aspect power coursing through his cells, ready to manifest.
Pathetic threads, threads that broke under ten kilograms of tension. But threads nonetheless.
"Hey! Courier!"
The voice came from behind him. Spade didn't stop, didn't turn. His awareness told him they were fifteen meters back, closing the distance.
"We know you're carrying something valuable!" Another voice. "Make this easy!"
Spade's mind raced through calculations. The alley would open into a loading zone in another thirty meters. More witnesses there, less chance of overt violence. But that meant thirty meters of vulnerability, and these men were faster than him.
Unless... his fingers moved instinctively to touch the concrete wall beside him as he walked. Thread began to flow from his fingertips, nearly invisible strands of silk that adhered to the rough surface. He let it trail behind him as he moved, creating a line of gossamer connection between himself and the wall.
"Last chance, courier!"
Spade heard the sound of acceleration, feet hitting pavement hard, the grunt of enhanced physical power being channeled. His awareness screamed danger as he felt the air displacement of someone lunging toward him.
He stopped. Just stopped, completely and suddenly, feet adhering to the ground with the same adhesive property that allowed him to climb walls.
The man behind him couldn't stop. His enhanced momentum carried him forward, and he collided with the thread Spade had been trailing. The silk caught across his shin, thin, nearly invisible, and strong enough to trip someone who wasn't expecting it.
The man went down hard, his enhanced body hitting the alley floor with a crack that suggested broken ribs. His companion tried to jump over the falling body but his own momentum was wrong, his balance compromised.
Spade was already moving again. His hands touched the wall and he went up, adhesive properties allowing him to scale the vertical surface like it was a ladder. Three meters, five meters, his courier bag bouncing against his back but his grip never failing. Behind him, he heard cursing, the sound of someone trying to get up.
"He's a fucking Spider! He's climbing!"
The second attacker had recovered, was pointing up at him with fury on his face. Spade saw the man's skin beginning to shimmer with heat, another Pyrokinetic, probably C-rank like the woman from the street.
Flames gathered in the man's palm. Spade's awareness felt it coming, the sudden spike in temperature, the gathering of energy. He was already moving sideways along the wall, using the same adhesive grip to traverse horizontally just as a gout of flame scorched the concrete where he'd been.
Seven meters up now. The roof's edge was tantalizingly close.
"Burn him down!" The first attacker had recovered, was pointing up with rage twisting his features. "He's just a D-rank! He can't---"
Spade reached the roof's edge, pulled himself up and over. The moment he was out of their line of sight, he ran, feet pounding across the rooftop, his awareness spreading outward to feel for pursuit. They were climbing now, he could sense it, but they were slower without his adhesive properties. They had to use fire escapes, handholds, brute force.
He had a thirty-second lead, maybe. Spade ran across three rooftops, jumped two narrow gaps, and finally descended on the far side of a building through an open window into an abandoned office space. He landed in a crouch, his awareness still extended, feeling for any nearby threats.
Nothing, he'd lost them. Spade allowed himself ten seconds to catch his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. Then he checked the courier bag... intact, contents undisturbed. Whatever was inside, it was worth enough for those men to risk attacking a courier in broad daylight. That was concerning.
He pulled out his phone and checked the delivery address. Silverline Tower, Penthouse Suite. Client, Kaizer Ventura.
Spade's stomach dropped.
Kaizer Ventura. The Kaizer Ventura. A-rank Storm-aspect user, one of the five corporate warlords who essentially ran New Manila. He'd just been attacked while carrying a package for one of the most powerful people in the city.
This wasn't a random mugging. This was a message... and he was just the messenger.
Spade's fingers trembled slightly as he put the phone away. The spider-sense beneath his skin was still active, still searching for danger, and now it was whispering something new...
This job just became a lot more complicated.
He stood up, adjusted his courier bag, and made his way to the stairwell. Silverline Tower was another ten kilometers across the city. If people were willing to attack him for this package, they'd probably be willing to try again.
He needed a route, a smart route. The kind of route that D-minus ranked courier had learned to survive on.
As Spade descended the stairs, he couldn't shake the feeling that had been growing in his awareness all day, a tension in the air, like the pressure before a storm. His threads were trembling, responding to something he couldn't quite identify.
Somewhere in the city, something was moving.
Something hungry.
But that was a problem for later. Right now, he had a delivery to complete.
He pulled his cap lower over his eyes and stepped back into the afternoon sun, just another unremarkable courier in a city full of gods.