Chapter One

It's a quiet night in the city of Toronto, at an hour so late even this city has started to slow down. It's a hot August night and a lot of people are inside with air conditioners and fans trying to beat the city heat. Only people out are the late night party animals, crazies and crooks and the woman watching from the ledge of an old brownstone is bit of all three rolled into one

She is a sight to see, to be certain. Wearing a sleek, fox-themed superhero costume, she calls herself the Vulpes, and for the last three months, she has been Toronto's newest vigilante.

Her costume is a masterclass in both form and function: primarily black and deep orange, with reinforced armor panels subtly woven into the design. These panels provide protection without sacrificing her agility, making it clear that Vulpes was built for speed and precision. Her mask is unmistakable—covering the upper half of her face, it gives her a pair of piercing, almost supernatural yellow eyes. The pointed edges resemble fox ears, adding a touch of mystique that enhances her fox-like persona.

Around her shoulders, a fur-lined collar adds a touch of elegance, while her cape—a striking burnt orange—billows dramatically in the night breeze as she moves, evoking the image of a fox’s tail in mid-leap. Her gloves and boots are designed for grip and agility, equipped for rooftop chases and hand-to-hand confrontations alike. Every detail of her costume is meticulously crafted, a blend of style and practicality that makes her both a shadowy figure and a force to be reckoned with.

She is hoping her image is enough to strike fear into the hearts of criminals, but it's not all bravado. Every part of her persona, her training, and her gear were chosen carefully—a premeditated plan to wage a one-woman war for justice in a world that had taken something she loved away in a moment of senseless violence. Each night she steps out, she remembers why she does this. It’s more than thrill-seeking, more than the rush of slipping through the city unseen. She’s out here to protect the innocent and ensure that what happened to her will never happen to anyone else.

She was a legacy, in a sense. Her grandfather had been a legend in his own right—a daring gentleman thief who had stolen from the corrupt, the cruel, and, during the Second World War, even from the Nazis in the name of freedom. He’d borne the moniker of the Silver Fox, a name whispered in awe and fear by those who knew his exploits. But to her, he was more than a myth or a legend. He was family, the man who had filled her childhood with stories of justice disguised as adventure, and who had entrusted her, and her alone, with his secret life.

She’d been proud beyond words to be his confidante, honored to be trained in his craft. It was through him that she learned the value of precision, of outwitting opponents, of fighting in the shadows to protect those who couldn't defend themselves. But when a senseless drive-by shooting had claimed his life, she lost not only a mentor but also a best friend and a grandfather. That day, the city had taken something irreplaceable from her, and she'd made a silent vow as she watched the casket lower into the ground: she would pick up where he left off, but this time, as a force for justice.

Tonight, perched on the edge of the brownstone, she surveys her city, sharp eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. The streets below are quiet, but she knows better than to let her guard down. In a city this big, danger always lurks just around the corner, and she is determined to be there when it strikes.

Toronto, Canada’s largest city. To those on the outside, it looks clean, almost idyllic—a city of well-dressed, polite citizens embodying the image of a perfect, courteous Canada. But, like her, this city wears a disguise. By day, she is Toronto: a high-class, wealthy lawyer in a sharp suit, all clean lines, polite smiles, and honest intentions. But, like this city, the pain, the darkness, and the ugliness of the world lie hidden just beneath the surface.

In the daylight, Toronto stands as a beacon of success and civility, its streets bustling with ambition and promise. Yet, in the shadows, a different city emerges—a place where corruption festers, where the powerful prey on the weak, and where secrets hide in darkened alleys. And just as Toronto’s polished exterior conceals its darker truth, so does she, cloaking herself in the sharp, controlled world of law by day, only to shed that skin and step into the night as Vulpes. In the shadows, she is unbound, fighting for a justice that goes deeper than any courtroom.

Tonight, she’s near the Danforth—known to some as Greektown—where the scent of grilled souvlaki and the hum of Greek music drift through the streets even at this late hour. But Vulpes isn’t here for the nightlife or the food. She has a chance to make a dent in a notorious drug smuggling operation under the control of the Drakopoulos family, one of the most powerful names in Greek organized crime throughout the diaspora.

It’s not just any bust. The Drakopoulos family is entrenched, weaving their influence through the city’s underworld with a mix of fear, bribes, and carefully placed alliances. Tonight’s operation won’t cripple them entirely, but a successful hit would disrupt their network, slowing their flow of narcotics into the city and hitting them where it hurts. And for Vulpes, every strike against the city’s corruption is a step closer to reclaiming Toronto from the hands of those who poison it.

She watches the old lot where the deal is supposed to go down, the ears on her mask are more then just for show as she turns them up to heighten and focus her hearing on the lot below, her yellow eyes are also more then just cosmetic, they are an advanced set of night vision lenses with filters and a few other features care of her friend and ally Wolf, he has only been on her team and only member of her team for that matter for a month but his expertise in engineering and inventing have given her leaps and bounds in her work far beyond what her grandfather's Thirty plus year old gadgets ever did.

As Vulpes crouched on the edge of the rooftop, she adjusted her mask’s ears, filtering out the ambient city noise until only the sounds below filled her ears. Through the enhanced night vision lenses Wolf had installed, the dimly lit lot became as clear as day. She could see every figure in sharp relief, from the guards scanning the perimeter to the sharp suits of the men emerging from the sleek black sedan.

Four men stepped out, each well-built, but only one towered over the others—a giant with a physique that looked carved from stone, even beneath the heavy coat he wore. Maximos "The Bronze Bull" Drakopoulos. His reputation preceded him. She knew he was one of the most feared enforcers for the Greek syndicates in Toronto, particularly under his uncle Stavros. Word on the street was that he didn’t just enforce rules; he made examples out of people.

This was a rare opportunity. Drakopoulos wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty in minor deals, which meant tonight’s meeting was likely more significant than the usual exchange. Vulpes’s mind raced as she considered her options. She could gather intel, document the faces and voices of those involved for later use. Or… if she were lucky, she might be able to dismantle the deal entirely before they even knew what hit them.

The men were conversing in low tones, their words mostly inaudible even through her tech-enhanced mask. But as Drakopoulos shifted, barking an order to one of his men, she caught a few fragments of their Greek. It sounded like they were discussing a shipment—something big, probably worth a fortune. Drugs? Guns? With Drakopoulos, it could be anything.

Vulpes took a steadying breath, reminding herself to stay calm and wait for the right moment. This wasn’t just another night on patrol; she was dealing with serious players now, people with enough influence to turn the city against her if she made a wrong move. But she had an edge, thanks to Wolf’s technology and her own relentless training.

She was no longer just Coraline Penrose. She was Vulpes, and tonight, she would prove that even Toronto’s fiercest criminals couldn’t evade the watchful eyes and clever tactics of a fox on the prowl.

Vulpes steadied herself on the ledge, her eyes narrowing as she watched Maximos and his men gather around the trunk of the sedan. The subtle glances they cast around, the tense postures, the way their hands hovered near their jackets—it all screamed of anticipation. This wasn’t just a casual exchange; there was a lot riding on this deal.

She smirked under her mask, feeling the familiar pulse of adrenaline as her gloved fingers tightened against the brick ledge. Waiting was the hardest part, but if she timed this right, she could catch not only the Drakopoulos enforcers but their buyers too. Two sets of criminals, one well-placed ambush.

"Patience," she reminded herself, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze shifted to the street beyond, keeping an eye out for any approaching vehicles. The buyers would be here soon; they had to be. Deals like this didn’t happen in a vacuum. Word would’ve gotten out in the right circles, attracting anyone desperate enough to buy the rare and dangerous drugs the Greeks were moving tonight.

Another vehicle’s headlights flickered in the distance, slicing through the shadows. Vulpes’ heart beat a little faster as she recognized the telltale, cautious approach of another group of players in this deadly game. She settled in, breathing slowly and steadily, waiting for just the right moment to strike.

Tonight, she’d send a message: Toronto had a new protector in town, and she wasn’t letting criminals make her city their playground anymore.

Vulpes’ curiosity sharpened as she observed the newcomers. They looked out of place—nervous but not in the way hardened criminals would be. These weren’t mobsters or career crooks. They were… college kids? The fresh-faced kid with the briefcase seemed barely out of his teens, handing over more cash than most college students could dream of, even by partying standards.

She adjusted her mask, focusing her enhanced lenses on the young men. The leader of the group had a hint of hesitation in his posture, a subtle stiffness that screamed “out of his depth.” Whatever this was, it went beyond typical campus drug deals. No college party scene would rake in this kind of cash so fast. This was either the beginning of something bigger or a group of kids already in over their heads.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. Mystery always pulled her in, especially one that felt just a little too polished on the surface. She let her eyes dart between the Greeks and the college kids, her mind already racing through possibilities. Were they working for someone bigger? Or were they a front, being used by someone more experienced to keep their hands clean?

Whatever the case, this deal was about more than just drugs—it reeked of something larger, and that was exactly the kind of problem Vulpes was here to solve. She took a steadying breath, adrenaline flooding her veins as she prepared to move. It was time to shake things up.

As Max opened the trunk, Vulpes narrowed her eyes, zooming in with her night-vision lenses to get a better look. The contents were far from typical. No plastic bags of white powder, no tablets or pre-rolled joints. Instead, a peculiar assortment of bottles, vials of liquid, and bags of odd-looking powders were carefully packed into the trunk. Each item looked like it had been lifted from a high-end medical lab, labeled with sterile clinical tags rather than the crude markings of street dealers.

This wasn’t just a new drug stash. These were specialized chemicals—compounds that didn’t belong on the streets, and certainly didn’t belong in the hands of college kids. The vials and powders could easily contain experimental substances, maybe even psychoactive compounds or prototype hallucinogens that had slipped out of legitimate research. But why would the Greeks handle something so unusual? And what would compel these college kids to empty their savings, and possibly their futures, for a handful of lab supplies?

Her mind raced through the implications. If these chemicals were what she thought they might be—experimental drugs, bio-enhancers, or some form of black-market hallucinogen—then this was more than a simple buy-and-sell. She could be looking at a new operation that tapped into an entirely different clientele, one that was willing to pay exorbitant amounts for something unique. A designer high? A synthetic "experience"? Maybe even a power enhancer?

Whatever it was, Vulpes knew it wasn’t just a regular deal. This was new territory for the Greeks, and it needed to be shut down before these chemicals flooded the city’s underground scene. Taking a deep breath, she calculated her approach. She’d have to be quick and careful; a confrontation with Max was inevitable, but she’d get the answers she needed first.

Tonight wasn’t just about stopping a crime—it was about unraveling something far bigger than she’d anticipated.

 Max nodded and his men started to unpack the trunk of the car until something rolled across the ground and came to a slow stop on the ground. They didn’t have time to get out a word of warning before the flash bang grenade went off in their midst. 

The flashbang erupted in a blinding flash and deafening blast, sending the men reeling. Max staggered back, one hand instinctively shielding his eyes as he swore loudly in Greek. His enforcers scrambled, disoriented and clutching their ears, momentarily incapacitated by the sudden explosion of light and sound. Vulpes seized the moment, launching herself from the rooftop with feline grace, landing silently amidst the chaos below.

As much as she enjoys a good brawl the flashbang isnt her opening for a fight, it's to give her time to get close and toss a smokebomb into the Greeks. She isn’t too worried about the buyers whose combat experience is very likely limited to FPS shooter games. The Vulpes follow up the exploding smokebomb by slipping a tracker onto the buyer's car bumper just under the lip and out of sight. The tracker is the trick but like she was taught bait and switch and she was about to be bait.

As the smoke cleared and the effects of the flashbang wore off, the chaos she had caused turned to anger and violence as the Greeks hurried to draw weapons and secure the money and contents of their trunk. Max had a pistol in one hand and was barking orders and telling the buyers to get their stuff and go. It was one of the Greek made men who felt her presence, as if some danger senses in his lizard brain just fired off. He was about to reach in the trunk when something made him look up at the roof of the Sedan 

He froze for a moment before reaching for his pistol. Crouched on the roof cape drapped around her was the Vermillion vulpes the dim lights of the parking lot glinting off her yellow eyes. “It's her! The bitch in the fox costume!” he snapped out as he brought the gun and aimed at her. She had to make this look good and let the buyers get away, time for this fox to see how hard the hounds were willing to play chase with her she thought. 

The gunshot echoed through the lot, but Vulpes was already moving. She sprang from the roof of the sedan with a fluid grace, her cape trailing behind her as she landed on the hood of a nearby car, then launched herself toward a nearby stack of crates, her form a blur in the dim light. The Greeks scattered, barking orders and cursing as they fumbled to get their bearings.

Max growled, his voice sharp and commanding. "Get her! Don't let her slip through your fingers!"

Vulpes smirked beneath her mask. She was right where she wanted to be, drawing the Greek enforcers' attention and giving the buyers a chance to grab their trunk full of illicit chemicals and bolt. The flashbang, the smoke, even her brief appearance atop the car—it was all to set the scene, to create just enough chaos and confusion to let her real objective slip away unnoticed. And, from the sound of tires screeching in the background, the buyers had taken the bait, their car speeding off into the night with her tracker neatly in place.

She had what she needed, but now came the tricky part: extricating herself from the middle of an angry gang of Greek mobsters who were itching to even the score.

One of Max's men fired off a few more shots in her direction, but she darted to the side, ducking low and slipping behind a stack of wooden pallets. The sound of splintering wood filled the air as bullets struck, sending shards flying. Vulpes crouched low, her breathing steady, ears perked to catch every sound as she gauged the positions of her pursuers.

“She is like a damn shadow dodgeing bullets!” cried one of the enforcers.

“I think I got her didn’t I? Is she bulletproof or something?”

The Truth was she didn’t dodge bullets, she was just human, and a few of the rounds had clipped her, or rather clipped her cloak. Her armor was impressive but her cape was another trick in itself. Made from carbon nano-mesh, ballistics fiber and light Kevlar it added extra armor layers and between it and her armor the bullets hadn’t been nearly as dangerous as they could have been. 

"She's behind the pallets! Circle around!" Max barked, his voice edged with fury. The Bronze Bull was clearly not a man accustomed to being toyed with, and his irritation only fueled his men’s desperation to capture her.

Vulpes waited until the footsteps approached closer, her heartbeat steady despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins. As soon as she saw the shadow of an enforcer closing in, she hurled a small metal sphere from her belt. It clattered on the ground, rolling to a stop just in front of the man’s foot before it erupted in a burst of blinding agony inducing tear gas. 

The enforcer stumbled back, coughing and swearing, his eyes watering uncontrollably as he clutched his face in pain. The sudden burst of tear gas disoriented him, and Vulpes took the opportunity to slip around the side of the pallets, moving silently as a shadow. Her gaze was sharp, her every sense tuned to the movements of the men around her, the faint shuffling of their feet, the clicks as they reloaded and repositioned.

"Stay alert!" Max barked, frustration thick in his voice. "She's just one woman—no more mistakes."

Vulpes smirked behind her mask, feeling a flash of satisfaction. If they thought she was just "one woman," they clearly didn’t understand how much a single, well-prepared vigilante could change the game. Her cape had proven its worth once again; the men couldn’t even tell that their shots had merely grazed her outer defenses, and she had every intention of keeping it that way.

As another enforcer moved closer, flashlight sweeping across the pallets, she crouched low, remaining hidden in the shadows. The man moved slowly, his breathing tense and shallow, his nerves frayed from the encounter so far. As he approached the edge of her hiding spot, she launched herself forward, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting, forcing him to drop his weapon with a muted yelp of pain.

A quick strike to the back of his knee brought him down, and she followed up with a pressure point jab to his neck, rendering him unconscious in seconds. Vulpes let him slump to the ground silently, her eyes already scanning for her next target.

"Where is she?" another of Max’s men called out, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Max’s frustration was growing by the second. “I don’t care how long it takes—find her! She’s not slipping out of here again.”

Another smoke bomb went off and Max snarled out “There in the smoke!” The remaining men converged but that smokebomb had been on a delayed timer. Vulpes was above it and pushed her shoulder into the tall stack of old wooden pallets sending them crashing down on the goons because as her grandfather had taught her fair fights are for suckers.

As the wooden pallets crashed down, scattering the men and throwing them into disarray, Vulpes allowed herself a small, satisfied grin. The chaos she’d unleashed gave her all the cover she needed. In the darkness, with their flashlights bouncing erratically and their voices raised in confusion, she moved like a fox through a thicket, quick and silent.

Max let out a roar of anger as he fought his way free of the splintered wood. "Get up, you idiots! She's toying with us!"

But his men were stumbling, coughing, some trapped beneath the weight of the pallets. Vulpes knew she’d bought herself a few more precious seconds. She slipped behind one of the larger pieces of debris, her eyes scanning the scene. Max was raging, his steel-gray eyes darting through the smoke, but there was something else in his expression—a flicker of doubt.

"She thinks she's clever," he growled, but his voice held an edge of uncertainty.

Vulpes took a moment to appreciate her grandfather’s words. Fair fights were for suckers, indeed. In this world, a well-placed trap and a healthy respect for unpredictability were her greatest assets. She adjusted her stance, readying herself to move as soon as the smoke started to dissipate. She didn’t have long before they’d regain their senses and start sweeping the area.

Max shook his head, frustration clouding his expression. "Spread out! I want her found, now!" 

She watched Max finally move from the briefcase full of cash to help his men from her new hiding place behind a pile of old crates. she should have left, should have cut and run but she couldn’t just do that, she had to make this not just humiliating but costly for the Greek syndicate. She crept towards the car with a small smirk on her face as she took a few tools from her utility belt. 

The man called the Bronze Bull by Torontos underworld hauled several wooden pallets off one of his men, his face locked in frustration.”Watch my back you morons, if you so much as a flash of orange feed it all the lead you have!” But there was only sillence after this, an eerie quiet that made them uneasy. Was she gone? Was she repositioning? Did one of them hit? Maybe she had crawled off bleeding? The quiet rasied more questions than answers. 

“I guess we scared her off Max?” suggested one of his men, hopeful that it was the case. Max huffed and holstered his gun. “Damn it, the cops will be here soon, next time no guns! Knives and brass knuckles! Now hurry up we need to be gone before the sirens hit!”

The mobsters piled into the Sedan and peeled out of the lot to put distance between themselves and the law. Maximos took a few moments to collect himself, this hadn’t gone as smoothly as expected, but they had a small fortune for their trouble and he could say with some pride he had scared off the woman in the fox get up who had been a thorn in the side for organized crime in Toronto for the last three months.

As the sedan sped through the darkened Toronto streets, Max seethed in silence, his knuckles white against the handle of the briefcase. His men stole uneasy glances at him, shifting in their seats, none daring to speak up. The Bronze Bull had a reputation, after all—an anger that was slow to rise but explosive when triggered. And tonight, that anger was primed and ready.

The silence weighed heavy, broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional pop of gravel beneath the tires. Max could still see the gleam of Vulpes’s yellow eyes watching him from the rooftop, taunting him. He gritted his teeth, thinking of the night’s humiliation—the flashbang, the smoke, the way she’d turned his men into stumbling fools.

He looked down at the briefcase in his lap, needing the reassurance that they’d at least completed the deal and kept the money. Flipping it open, he leaned in, eager to see the stacks of crisp, unmarked bills—

POP!

A thick, dark-red dye exploded from inside the briefcase, spraying up in a sticky burst that covered his face, suit, and the bundles of cash. The dye splattered everywhere, seeping into the fabric of his clothes, staining his hands, and obscuring the money with a deep, muddy crimson.

"Are you kidding me!" Max bellowed, his face twisting in horror and rage as he stared at the ruined briefcase. He clawed at the stain in a futile attempt to wipe it off, only smearing the dye further. His chest heaved as he looked up, eyes burning with fury.

"That... that little fox," he seethed, his voice a dangerous rumble. "She planned this."

One of his men glanced back from the front seat, eyes wide and unsure. "Boss, maybe we should pull over and clean—"

"Shut up!" Max roared, slamming the briefcase shut with enough force to make his driver jump. He looked down at his stained suit, feeling the dye soaking through, the crisp fabric ruined, the money tainted. He could almost feel the laughter in her eyes as she had placed that trap, baiting him like a common fool.

His mind ran through every way he would make her pay for this. Next time, it wouldn’t be guns or knives or even his men. He’d handle her himself.

The quiet fury twisted into a snarl as he clenched his fists, the red dye still dripping from his fingers. His voice, a low, venomous growl, broke the silence of the car as he stared into the night, envisioning the look of terror he would one day see in her eyes.

"Next time," he muttered, then bellowed loud enough to rattle the windows, "I’m going to strangle her to death with my own bare hands!"

The car sped on, the last echo of his rage hanging heavy in the air, as the streets of Toronto unwittingly bore witness to a new, seething vendetta.