Barbara crouched behind the reception desk, the glow of the terminal flickering across her face. Her eyes swept the corners of the ceiling until they caught on a small black dome tucked near the molding. A surveillance camera. She raised her hand, her fingertips humming faintly as her bioelectric field sharpened. The lens sizzled, the circuits inside popping one by one until smoke coiled lazily from the casing. With a soft exhale, she pulled the feed into her nanite interface, deleting every trace of their entry before overloading the system completely. The light inside the camera died.
She leaned back, satisfaction etched across her expression. In her mind, this was payback—not only for herself but for every girl some administrator has sold out. Property damage vengeance.
Pamela, arms folded, stood at the door, her eyes locked outward like a predator on the watch.
Barbara turned back to the terminal. The login screen glared at her, waiting. She pressed one finger to the keyboard, released a sharp crackle, and sent a surge into the circuits. The machine whined, then the screen blinked past the password wall, giving her full access.
Her pupils narrowed as she let the nanites carry her consciousness deeper into the mainframe. Files scrolled past faster than human eyes could track, every entry and clearance request cross-referenced in an instant. She filtered for access logs tied to the female dormitory. Dozens of names flew by, professors, staff—most routine. And then one stood out. Sherry Lewis. Requests far beyond protocol. A stack of keycards issued, one after another.
Barbara's voice dropped to a whisper. "Found you."
She pulled up the woman's profile, hitting print. The whir of the machine broke the silence as a sheet of paper slid out with Sherry Lewis's photograph. Barbara picked it up, shaking her head with a sharp exhale. "I should have known. She's wearing glasses."
Pamela finally moved from her post, stepping closer and glancing at the page. "What's with your comment about her wearing glasses?"
Barbara tapped the photo, her tone dry. "Oh, it's nothing. It's not the glasses that are the issue—it's the thick width of the glasses. Large black frames, lenses half an inch thick. That's a typical giveaway of someone on the take, accepting bribes for illegal activity."
Pamela raised a brow, doubt flashing in her eyes. "Are you sure thick glasses are a giveaway?"
Barbara's mouth tightened. "Trust me. People involved in crimes against women often have certain tells. Super thick geek glasses are one of them. Besides—look at her complexion and hair. She's obviously unattractive, probably jealous of the girls in the dorms. So she accepted a bribe to give pervy professors access. Professor Woodrue included."
Pamela nodded once, her tone low and final. "Well then, let's go track her down and issue some vengeance."
Barbara lifted a finger, her eyes still on the terminal. "Hold on. I'm not done here yet. We need to make sure this doesn't happen to future female students after we leave Gotham University."
Pamela's lips curved faintly, her expression dark. "I like the way you think."
Barbara dove back into the system, pulling the complete list of every man Sherry Lewis had issued dorm keys to. Her fingers flew across the keys, attaching the files to a blank email. No signature, no trace. She routed it through several anonymous channels before firing it straight to the Gotham City Police Department.
Pamela stepped closer, watching the final send confirmation appear on the screen. "What did you do?"
Barbara leaned back, her eyes cold with satisfaction. "Sent a record of all the men she gave keys to. The police can investigate them now, make sure none of them are assaulting female students."
Pamela exhaled slowly, approval settling into her tone. "Excellent work. We don't always need to seek vengeance ourselves, but if we take out the source of the problem, that's something else entirely."
"Exactly," Barbara replied. "Let the cops deal with the trash. We'll handle the one who let them in. Let's go. I took care of everything. Not even Batman will know we were here."
They slipped out through the administration building's underground parking exit, their footsteps echoing against the concrete. Barbara glanced at the profile page in her hand again, her voice casual but sharp. "She lives two blocks off campus. We can walk there in five minutes."
Pamela tilted her head toward her. "So what's the plan?"
Barbara's eyes glinted. "Let's go over there, break her legs, maybe her hands. Then we'll get to work on our other goals—robbing criminals."
Pamela's lips parted in a quiet laugh, dark humor coloring her tone. "Whoa, whoa. You said 'rob criminals,' and this woman is one. She's got to have plenty of cash from those pervert professors. So let's break her arms and legs—and rob her clean."
Barbara's eyes lit up with thought. "Excellent. And I've been working on a theory. I think my bioelectric field can not only scramble devices, but also mess with human memory. I might be able to erase her recent memories—like a short-term memory wipe via electric pulse."
Pamela deadpanned, "All those complicated words just to say you cause short-term memory loss."
Barbara smirked faintly, tapping the edge of the page. "Hey, I've got to make it sound impressive. A taser that can erase memories? That's badass."
Pamela rolled her eyes, brushing past her. "Whatever, Barbara."
They reached the residential block quickly, the street lamps casting their shadows across cracked pavement. Sherry Lewis's apartment building loomed ahead, a squat structure with narrow windows and a keycard-secured front door. Pamela stopped just outside, her gaze locked on the entrance. "This is the place. Let's go."
Barbara scanned the area immediately, her eyes locking on a security camera mounted above the door. With a quick surge from her hand, the lens popped, its glow fading. She stepped up to the keycard reader, channeling a precise pulse into the panel. The system buzzed, the light flicked green, and the lock clicked open.
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