“C’mon, please!” Caldera punched the plastic casing, over and over again. Each shot rebounded; her workable area was too small for her to get any momentum. Yet, still she persisted. Over and over, she clenched her tendons, tightening her muscles. Her head throbbed, and she was starving and dehydrated from an entire night of tears. But still she persisted. The image of her hero was bare in her mind. No longer a hero. A dominatrix. A monster, callous and cruel. It was unfathomable. Spirit-shaking. And yet, she persisted even then.

“C’mon… come… on!” Caldera threw another punch.

“Work!”

Another jab.

“Please…!”

There she was, supine. Inches away from the plastic barrier that separated her from freedom. She heaved, her warm breath creating a glistening blurry spot, impossible to see in the low light save for the status LEDs reflecting from Imperia’s computer. She was tired. She was hungry. And with each passing moment, her energy was sapping. Caldera had to face the reality… she was not capable of leaving this confinement.

Caldera took a break. She laid her arms out to her side. She was hot.

Caldera covered her face with her hand. It picked up a few drops of sweat.

She looked at the gloved hand, cloaked in a blistery red latex, reduced to a muted dark color in the light’s near-absence.

Catherine peeled the glove off, grunting a bit. She removed the palm section first, then each individual finger, revealing her hand. Lithe. Dainty. Almost childlike.

Catherine placed her hand on the plastic. And she focused.

Sizzz…

Her fingertips glowed in the dark. They burned a searing four hundred degrees, multiplied by five fingerprints. More than enough to melt the cheap plastic, but not enough to vaporize it. It liquified, dripping on Catherine’s nose and singing her face. She cut the heat, taking quick, shallow breaths as she forced herself to wait for the melted plastic to cool. The dozens of seconds felt like hours, but it soon solidified. Catherine carefully peeled it off with her gloved hand and tossed it away.

Five even-ish holes now dotted her plastic confinement.

Catherine allowed herself a smile at this victory. Pushing her fingers through, she focused the heat on her palm, trying her best to contain the viscous liquid as more of the barrier was melted away. With a few well-placed repetitions of this process, Catherine was able to tear apart the weakened plastic, creating a hole large enough for her to squirm through, hoisting herself over the edge of the container.

Catherine caught her breath, feeling a faint bit of accomplishment. It felt good to be doing something, and even better to stretch her arms out fully. The edge of the capsule was driving a ridge in her cheek. As she sat there, her eyes went to that dainty figure laying there on the table.

Catherine ran through her knowledge of supervillains. Polymaiden made the cut, but Catherine didn’t have an abundance of information on the duplicator, with most of what she did know being secondhand from investigators and Imperia herself.

That horrifying plea for death played over and over in Catherine’s mind.

Again. And again.

It felt… wrong, to just leave her there.

“Hey…” Catherine cupped her hands, wheezing a whisper in Polymaiden’s direction. “Hey…!”

No movement.

Catherine began to lift herself out of the container, then cringed. Polymaiden was naked. It felt like an invasion of privacy. Catherine wasn’t a particularly social girl, and though sexual relations did interest her somewhere down the line, she knew innately now was not the time to survey her prospects. She did not feel anything looking at Polymaiden. Well, aside from mild apprehension at her villainous past.

Said the pot to the kettle, Catherine thought meagerly.

Even so, the idea of manipulating Polymaiden’s form in any way made her feel… dirty, especially after what was presumably a harrowing time in Imperia’s boot. But Catherine needed to take stock of her allies, and she wasn’t going to get Polymaiden’s attention from way over here. If she had to come uncomfortably close, so be it.

Catherine lowered herself out of her container. Her boot hit the tabletop, followed by her bare foot. She jumped slightly, feeling the roughness on her sore sole. Catherine had forgotten she lost the other shoe. She would have to find it later.

Catherine took slow, cautious steps toward Polymaiden’s limp form. She was not far away, perhaps a fifteen-second walk at a brisk pace. But the action figures that lined the table felt notoriously nosy. Their dark visages and indistinct silhouettes gave Catherine the utmost heebee jeebies as she navigated through their ranks. Many stood taller than her. And though their owner was likely asleep, Catherine didn’t want to touch the dolls at risk of offending their master.

At last, Catherine made it to Polymaiden.

She crouched at her front, placing a hand on her shoulder. Catherine punched her own chest, clearing her throat, and after a few attempts where only some scratchy noises came out, she murmured:

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Catherine felt Polymaiden’s bare skin tighten at her touch. Otherwise, she was lifeless. The faint scent of foot odor still wafted off her smooth dermis.

Catherine wanted to call it quits. To retreat to her cozy plastic box. To return to where Imperia had left her. She wanted to get away from this girl, who Catherine only knew as a deranged supervillain and purveyor of stochastic terrorism.

But at the same time… here in this alien, lonely world, fearing for her life with every errant creak of a floorboard… Catherine wanted something else too. Something more.

She wanted a friend. While a friend that was not a serial arsonist was preferred, beggars could not be choosers.

So, she redoubled her efforts. She shook Polymaiden again, more vigorously. When Polymaiden failed to move, Catherine carefully pried her fingers beneath Polymaiden’s prone body, slowly, gingerly flipping her on her back like an omelet.

Once she settled, Catherine brushed some of Polymaiden’s hazel-colored hair out of her face, unveiling eyes just barely squinting, ajar. Her breasts were mid-sized and taut, slightly flopping over into her armpits. Catherine pushed into Polymaiden’s gaze, and she tried to coax her back to the land of the living.

“Hey… say something. Please.”

Tiny coughs limped from her chapped lips. Catherine jumped to action, once again reaching behind Polymaiden’s back, cautiously, quietly, glacially pushing her up into a sitting position. When she was at a 90-degree angle, Catherine carefully let go. Polymaiden did not slump back to the table, but she made no indication that she registered Catherine’s existence either.

Catherine nudged the small of Polymaiden’s back a few times, eliciting a couple more coughs.

“My name is… Catherine.” Catherine tried to smile but managed only a dreadful sneer-like expression. Polymaiden remained mute in response. “And yours?”

Polymaiden said nothing. Her eyes saw nothing. If Polymaiden could hear, she didn’t show it. If there were wheels in her head, Catherine sensed they were full of rust.

“Well… just…” Catherine faltered, wondering what advice on Earth she could possibly leave this woman with that could enrich her life. “Just… remember that I’m here. If you need anything.”

And Catherine turned away. She wanted to slap herself for saying something so corny, so tone-deaf of their current entanglement. Even in the chilly night air, she felt scalding hot. She wanted to dive into a pool of ice to wash away the embarrassment, or better yet, dive into her newly formed felt-lined container bed and truly lock herself away for good this time. She was about to trudge off when something grabbed her ankle. Catherine did everything in her power not to screech as she whipped her head back. Polymaiden was glaring at her askew, her face twisted in a grimace as she buried her other hand beneath her rear.

At first, Catherine had no idea what she was looking at, and couldn’t decide whether to be just confused or confused and mortified… until she realized Polymaiden was merely sitting on something and trying to dig it out. Which she succeeded in moments later, dangling Catherine’s red go-go boot by its throat and handing it to her.

“Penny.”

Polymaiden’s… er… Penny’s response was curt and straightforward. She didn’t want to have her mouth open any longer than she had to.

Catherine took the boot, confusion waning as Penny loosened her grip on her ankle. Penny’s lips split, and it seemed as though she had to collect her thought before loosing one final, monosyllabic expression.

“Thank.”

And Penny’s eyes went numb again. Catherine had to shake her drifting fingers off her own ankle as she stared down at the catatonic woman.

Catherine felt her own numbness spread out from her heart, planting paralyzing tendrils into the depths of each limb. For a moment, as Penny uttered a mere three syllables, Catherine was not alone. She was talking to another human. And a slightest bit of confidence, contentment in life, managed to return. It made Catherine feel energized.

That moment was gone. But Penny was still here.

Catherine lacked the energy to make the return trek to her hovel. Instead, she slumped down herself, next to an emotionless Penny. Catherine hugged her knees close to her chest for a few moments, rocking to her heartbeat. Then, she stretched her leg out a bit and began to equip her boot, hoping only that Imperia wouldn’t display any anger at Catherine escaping from her petroleum prison.