The lost girl ran through the rain. She ran and ran, the sirens blaring in her ears, picking herself up again each time she fell. Dirt slowly began amassing around her now cut and bruised knees. There was no stopping the tears that ran down her face, as the further away she got from the compound the fear in her heart began to swell uncontrollably.

Why hadn't she just stayed put? A myriad of questions began to circle her mind.

Why did she run, knowing they'll catch her?

Knowing it'll just make them angrier?

That they'll take that anger out on her?

She had no idea where she was going, but she continued to run. Lost, afraid and alone, she knew naught of what the outside world was like. She'd never even breathed in the crisp, morning air before. The deep, inner sanctums of that compound were all that she'd ever known, and the piercing gazes of adults that never failed to terrify her.

And yet, run the lost girl did, confused and confounded by the thousands of new sights and smells that surrounded her - into the maze of streets that was New York City.

And as the rain slowly began to ease, the early morning sun rising over the mass of tall buildings, she wasn't the only peculiar character that was beginning their day in what most could consider a peculiar way.

On the top of the Empire State Building she stood, light-blond hair blowing in the wind, tapping her feet against the damp floor beneath her. She donned a rather strange outfit – though for her profession, it was surprisingly run-of-the-mill. She wore a mischievous little grin as she approached the edge of the rooftop, staring down toward the street below, packed with tiny people and cars. It was quite a familiar sight for this woman.

And in the next moment, she wasn't on the rooftop anymore.

She placed her arms behind her head…

…spun around…

…and jumped off.

"Yahoooo!"

You see, this is a world where heroes and villains exist. Magic, aliens, alternate dimensions – these things are more than just legends, stories, or theories. That said, these things are hard to come by. A spell gone wrong can lead to your own ruin. Alien civilisations rise and fall before leaving a single mark on the universe. And alternate dimensions are by no means easy to travel.

Even though these things exist, heroes are rare. Because in the real world, more often than not – power will fall into the wrong hands. And even good people can be tempted by greed or fear.

The year is 2028. With more villains than heroes, those with the power to do good must fight even harder. And within those few heroes that exist, for the past twelve years, one has remained at the top as humanity's greatest defender.

The heroine named Flow.

"What's up, New Yooooork?!" the heroine called out, approaching the ground at an alarming speed.

But of course, this was nothing new to her, nor was there any danger. As the people and pavement grew closer, she grabbed onto the top of a streetlight, her speed causing her to spin around it a number of times – similar to a gymnast – before letting go, and launching herself off into the air, and down the closest street. The moment she did so, a small, translucent light began to radiate from her body.

As she passed, several pedestrians waved at her, and some took pictures on their phones, the woman cockily striking several poses in mid-air, before returning to her original position without skipping a beat.

She landed on the ground for a moment – the first time this had occurred since she jumped off the Empire State building – before springing back up, doing a full mid-air flip, swinging off yet another streetlight, and sending herself flying a nearby building where she ran across the wall much like a parkour artist.

Her earlier grin remained plastered on her face. "Don't ya just love Saturdays?"

This was how the woman often traversed the city that was her home – seamlessly transitioning from one move to the next, with all the grace of an acrobat. This was tied to her power, after all. Chaining together her movements in this manner allowed her body to create kinetic energy, which her power also allowed her to temporarily store, before converting that into other kinds of energy and affecting herself or the world around her.

This is why the soft light that surrounded her seemed to intensify for a moment each time she pulled off a movement.

Beyond that, it was why she was called "Flow" – her attacks and movements had to be precise, intentional, and flow into one another seamlessly to be most effective. To onlookers, the way the heroine moved across the city had always been quite mesmerising.

As she sped through the New York City streets, she passed a group of three boys on the sidewalk, outside a comic book store - each of their faces pressed as close to the pages of a book as could be, in a hot debate about their favourite superheroes.

"No way! Flow is way too quick! She could crush the Crescent Crusader before he had a chance to do anything!" one of the boys argued.

Another quickly clapped back. "Pfft, yeah, but that's only if she had a bunch of energy built up beforehand, and that's not fair…"

"But if they fought at night, wouldn't he have an edge?"

What Flow didn't notice as she passed these boys, however, was another child, a young girl, peering out into the street from an alleyway. She listened to these boys intently, watching the sparkle in their eyes each time they talked about the hero they liked most - and yet, enamoured as she was by their conversation, the girl didn't dare step out from the darkness of the alleyway.

Her feet remained firmly planted, and not even the tips of her toes were graced by a lick of sunlight. She would never be able to talk to those children, she thought. Distance, that's all there was.

And with a frown, she made her way back deeper into the darkness of the alley.

As for Flow, after making her way through several blocks, she soon found herself a crime in progress, a jewellery store robbery.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Ugh… a jewellery store heist? That's like the fifth one this week…"

Even in a world with heroes often just around the corner, some people just couldn't help themselves. And thus, it was up to Flow to intervene, before someone got hurt.

"Uh-oh, guys, I think someone's committing a crime!" she observed sarcastically, before going straight from a wall-run onto the street, and into punching one of the thugs. They were dressed rather stereotypically – black ski-masks, and tracksuits.

The men were armed, of course, and quickly began firing their pistols at her. But with so much energy flowing through her body already, her defences had been raised and upon contact with her skin their bullets simply dropped to the floor. Much to their shock and horror, naturally. Even with only their eyes visible, it was easy to tell what they were thinking - they were screwed.

"Tsk tsk. Silly bad guys, it's like you're not even trying to stay out of jail!" Flow taunted.

And just as anticipated, the robbery was swiftly thwarted, as the heroine finished off the last two street thugs by jumping off the shop wall toward them and bashing their heads together – sending them quickly into the depths of unconsciousness. As per usual, she left quickly, leaving law enforcement to wrap up the rest.

The rest of the morning played out rather similarly. She patrolled the city, looking for ongoing crimes, and quickly putting a stop to them. This was a typical Saturday morning for a vigilante, and as much as she didn't like to admit it, she looked forward to the weekends since she could lose herself in this job, without worrying about being late to her real one.

It would only take one brief moment for this Saturday to deviate from her usual ones, however.

Eventually, even the superhero needed a break, and she descended into an alleyway for a breather. Since there was no one around, it allowed her to pull down the dark mask that covered her mouth and nose without fear of being seen. She wiped the sweat from her brow and looked up at the cloudy sky above. The alleyway was currently in the shade, creating for a nice contrast between it and the areas of the wall that the autumn sun just managed to graze.

But something suddenly broke her focus on appreciating such tiny details – a quiet sneeze, from further down the alley.

She quickly pulled her mask back up. "Who's there?"

And whoever it was let out a worried gasp.

"I won't hurt you, so just come out."

She noticed small hands began to curl around the nearby dumpster, before a young girl peeked out shyly. She had dark skin and hair, with brown eyes. To Flow, it didn't look like she could be older than 11 or 12. However, what concerned her more was that this girl seemed to be shaking.

She took a step closer, but not another one, in fears of scaring her.

"Hi there. I'm Flow. What's your name?" the woman spoke, crouching down to the girl's level.

The girl didn't respond and stayed put.

"Are you scared? Like I said, I promise, I'm not gonna hurt you." Disregarding any concern for her secret identity for a moment, Flow decided to pull down her mask. "See? I'm just like you. I know the mask can be scary sometimes, but I really just want to help people. So will you let me help you?"

At last, the girl stepped out from behind the dumpster, and took a few steps closer toward Flow. It immediately struck the woman that this girl's clothes – something that almost resembled a prison jumpsuit, though with colours more subdued than she was used to – were covered in dirt. Her knees were also quite bruised, with cuts that seemed fresh.

"My name… is Solana." The girl muttered.

"Well, Solana, it's very nice to meet you. What are you doing out here by yourself? Where are your parents?"

The woman felt an instant tinge of regret as she asked her second question. "If she has parents, they're clearly not very good ones, are they…"

"Uhm, I'm… hiding. And I… don't remember my parents." Solana answered, in as polite a voice as she could muster.

"Hiding? From whom?"

However, their conversation would soon be cut short as Flow realised there was a commotion occurring outside the alleyway, and almost in direct response, Solana dashed behind the dumpster once more. The heroine quickly pulled up her mask.

"Flow!" A familiar voice – one the woman abhorred – called out a few moments later.

Several armoured vehicles had pulled up in the street outside the alley, with members of law enforcement piling out soon after. The vehicles had a logo made up of the letters D.I.R.E. – indicating they were part of the (Department of) Defence, Intelligence, and Research of the Enhanced. And this armed group was led by a figure very familiar to the heroine. One General Clarke.

He appeared at the entrance of the alleyway, though seemingly refused to go any further, his lackeys lined up behind him.

"Hiding, huh." The heroine thought to herself, starting to realise what was going on.

And so, with a roll of her eyes, she set to work. "Oh, hey, Michael… what am I being framed for today?"

Some of the man's cohorts looked shocked as the woman referred to him by his first name so nonchalantly.

"Never been one for respect, have you? But you're not being accused of anything today. What are you doing down an alleyway?" the General responded, the annoyance already apparent in his voice.

"Gotta take breaks somewhere away from prying eyes. How about you? Sorry, is this where you come for lunch?" Flow responded with a mischievous chuckle.

Clarke let out a monstrous sigh. "Tch. We're looking for an escaped… patient. Any chance you could help us out?"

"Well, as much as I love cleaning up your messes, have they done anything yet?" asked the heroine.

"No. But they're dangerous."

The woman shrugged. "Look, I know you guys love making assumptions about people, but I'm actually in the business of stopping active crimes, or known criminals, so I think I'm gonna have to pass on this one. Who knows, maybe they just wanted a day out in Central Park."

"This is serious. They pose a threat to the citizens of this city!" the general snapped back.

"Oh yeah? Well, if I do run into this person of yours, I'll do what I always do. I'll defer to my own judgement and decide for myself if they're a villain or not."

For some reason, Solana, who had been listening to their whole exchange while hiding, felt her chest tighten as she heard this.

She couldn't stop a small smile from growing on her face.

All her life, she had been afraid of the adults that surrounded her.

They poked and prodded her, vilified her, put her through things it hurt to remember…

…and one of those very adults was standing only metres away from her.

But this woman, whom she had only just met, was lying on her behalf. Putting one of the people who had put her through so much pain in his place, without the slightest bit of fear.

And for the first time that day,

She didn't feel so afraid anymore.

This woman was the brightest thing in that dark alley.

"This is why I hate you vigilantes." The general snarled.

"Michael, look, I know you're doing your job, but antagonising me is not how you get me to come to your son's birthday party again."

A momentary silence set in as the man's eyes widened, and all of his lackeys were taken aback.

"Uh… sir?"

All of a sudden, the general began to storm off back toward the truck he'd gotten out of. "That is ENOUGH! We've wasted enough time here. We thought you may have seen something, but I guess not. We need to find that girl ASAP! Move out!"

"Love you too, Michael!"

And in a few moments, the D.I.R.E. squad had left, leaving Flow and Solana alone once more.

Beneath her mask, Flow wore a satisfied smile. "Man, I'm just so good at annoying that guy."

Her attention now returning to the girl from before, the woman didn't even have to say a word this time. Before she even had a chance to turn around, Solana had run out from behind the dumpster and was tugging on the heroine's clothes. The girl wasn't short by any means, and she came up to around Flow's chest, but in that moment, she felt so small. She didn't want the light to go away, so all she could do was hold onto it like an infant.

"Thank you, nice lady."

Flow turned around and lowered herself to Solana's level once again.

"Those are the people you're running from, aren't they?" She asked with a slight frown, in a soft voice.

"Yeah…"

"Hey, wanna know a secret?"

Solana looked puzzled as the woman took her mask down once more.

"My real name is Hilda. Hilda Hallow. I get the sense now that… maybe you don't know who I am. I'm kind of a superhero, of sorts… maybe the most well-known one, heh…" the woman felt a little awkward talking herself up this much.

She was right, though. Solana knew naught of the superhero world, but she didn't doubt the woman for a second. In this moment, she was her hero.

"Why are you telling me this? Isn't… a secret identity an important part of being a superhero?" Solana asked, eyeing the ground. She didn't want to be rude, but she didn't understand why this woman would trust her with such a secret.

Hilda placed her hand on the girl's head, ruffling her short, brown hair. It was only now that the young girl realised that the woman was wearing gloves as part of her hero costume.

"Because, I…"

As she looked into Solana's eyes, Hilda saw herself. The Hilda from over twelve years ago, who was scared and afraid.

She didn't know what made this girl different.

But she knew what it was like to be pursued simply for that.

Images of those walls filled her mind. The sounds of sobbing, the voices of those who wished her harm.

Back then, she wished someone had said those words to her. And before she knew it, they were spilling out of her own mouth.

"I've just decided… I'm going to protect you, Solana. It must've been really scary, right? You've been so brave… but you don't need to be afraid anymore. You don't need to run anymore, because everything's going to be okay now." As Hilda spoke, tears slowly began streak down the young girl's face. "Whether it's D.I.R.E. or anybody else, they'll have to go through me. No matter what they try, I'm not going to let anything happen to you, and that's a promise!"

From behind her tears, all Solana could do was nod. In her whole life, she'd never been overcome with emotion like this, and the young girl had no idea how to process it.

There was one way, though, that she knew her emotions manifested themselves - and as Hilda affectionately patted her head, she experienced this directly. All of a sudden, she found her hand surrounded by a small flame, her glove searing away.

Both the heroine and Solana's faces turned to one of panic as they realised what was happening.

"Gah…! Hot, hot, hot! Ow…" Hilda yelled in a frenzy, rapidly shaking her wrist in an attempt to put out the small flame. Thankfully, she remained mostly unharmed, but her glove had almost completely disintegrated.

"S-Sorry!" Solana exclaimed, her tears coming to an immediate halt out of shock, before reaching out and grabbing the woman's now gloveless fingers. "Is your hand okay?!"

Immediately, the look on Hilda's face shifted, and she pulled back from the girl.

"D-Don't touch me!" she cried, clutching her hand to her chest, before realising what she had just done. She was very aware of the bewildered look on Solana's face. "Ah… I didn't mean… sorry. I sorta have a… fear of people touching me. See, even heroes get scared sometimes, heh… it's why I wear those gloves. Good job I carry a spare…"

Solana wore a worried frown as she watched the heroine slip on another glove she pulled out from her pocket.

"I-I really am sorry, though… the fire just sorta… happens when I get overwhelmed…" the girl muttered.

"Don't worry about it. Flame powers, though, huh? You really are a curious case, aren't you?" Hilda responded with a smile. "I can work with that, though."

The heroine extended her once again fully-gloved hand toward the girl, who was once again feeling very small, glancing toward the ground.

"Let's go then, shall we? We should get out of here before someone sees you."

Solana felt her chest run warm as she looked at Hilda. Even despite accidentally showing and usng her abilities on her, the kind woman had still decided to keep her promise, and she could feel herself beginning to tear up again.

"Okay!"

And together, they walked into the sunlight.

As Hilda gripped Solana's small hand tightly, she felt a tiny bit of the girl's warmth seep through the fabric of her glove. And a question rose to the surface of her mind as quick as her chest began to tighten.

"What is… this feeling?" She pondered.

And maybe the young girl wondered something similar.

And that's how, on a run-of-the-mill Saturday for a superhero, a strange little family was born – made up of the world's number one hero, and a lost girl.