Reborn as flatline and I have the powers of Rogue Sun in DC

AMEN.

The priest's voice rang out sharply, echoing across the burial site.

His hand slipped beneath his robes, fingers curling around cold steel. The faint click of the safety echoed in Nika's ears, but he didn't even manage to raise the machine gun halfway.

By the time he looked up—she was already there.

Nika's feet left the ground as she lunged forward, her body blurring across the short distance between them. Before the priest could fully register what was happening, her hand snapped around his head.

A quick twist. Snap.

His body crumpled instantly.

Nika barely caught the weight of him as she swiped the handgun concealed beneath his robes.

Screams erupted from the gathered family, panic spreading.

Figures emerged from behind tombstones and the edges of the cemetery—the assassins had revealed themselves.

Nika wasted no time.

Gunfire rang out.

She fired off a quick succession of shots, hitting three of the assassins who carried firearms. Their bodies slumped before they could react, the echoes of gunfire rolling over the funeral.

Move.

Nika ducked low and sprinted between rows of tombstones, her footsteps quiet against the soft dirt.

Her eyes caught movement around the corner of a large headstone—three assassins lying in wait.

Without hesitation, Nika dashed forward. Her hand gripped the edge of the tombstone, and with a firm pull, she swung herself around it. Her legs whipped through the air—the first assassin took a direct kick to the face.

His head snapped backward, colliding with the stone behind him with a sickening crack.

Before his body hit the ground, Nika's gun was already raised. Two shots. The second assassin dropped instantly, blood pooling at the base of the tombstone.

The third, brandishing a knife, lunged.

Nika ducked, the blade slicing harmlessly above her head. Her fist shot up, catching him under the chin with a brutal uppercut.

The knife slipped from his hand—she caught it mid-air.

In one fluid motion, she slashed his throat. He staggered, clutching the wound as he collapsed forward.

Nika wiped the blade clean against her sleeve and glanced back toward the family.

Six assassins remained.

Five were clustered together, but one had broken away, stalking toward The family—toward her grandmother, who stood protectively at the front.

Nika's grip on the gun tightened.

She aimed carefully. Two quick shots.

The first two gunmen in the group collapsed, leaving three behind.

Nika didn't stop moving. The knife in her hand spun between her fingers as she hurled it toward the assassin creeping toward her grandmother.

It struck deep into his side.

He staggered, but before he could react, Nika closed the distance and finished the job—a swift slash across the neck.

Three left.

Nika moved like a shadow, weaving between the tombstones. The final three assassins barely had time to register her approach before she swept into their ranks.

The gun barked twice.

Two down.

The last assassin spun to face her, panic in his eyes. Nika twisted the weapon around in her hand and slammed the butt of the gun into his temple. His body dropped without ceremony.

Silence returned.

Nika straightened, flicking the safety on the gun as she glanced back at her family.

They were horrified.

Every pair of eyes was fixed on her, wide with fear and confusion—except for one.

Her family ran away from her—except for one.

Her grandmother approached slowly, stepping carefully over the bodies. Her expression was calm, unreadable.

"Are you alright, Nika?" she asked quietly.

Nika tucked the gun into the waistband of her coat. "I'm alright, Grandma."

Her grandmother's gaze drifted across the lifeless assassins scattered around the cemetery. Her eyes lingered for a moment before she exhaled softly.

"I suppose," her grandmother said, "we'll have that talk later."

Nika nodded. "Go home, Grandma. I'll meet you there after I clean up."

Her grandmother didn't argue. "I'll wait for you near the house."

With one last glance at the carnage, her grandmother turned and disappeared down the path.

Nika stood alone.

She pulled out her phone, switching to the front-facing camera.

The reflection staring back at her was what she expected.

Her hair, once dark, had changed into Snow White. Her skin, pale but human before, had also changed, It's became Greyish white. And her eyes—blood red.(you can just look up flatline)

"Good," Nika muttered to herself. "At least my skin isn't as white as my hair or I would have been a white silhouette with red eyes.

Her transformation into Flatline was complete.

Tucking the phone away, Nika glanced at the bodies around her.

"All I have to do is clean this up… and then go talk to Grandma."

A few hours later, Nika stood near the edge of the woods, just outside her family's property. The faint glow of the house lights flickered through the trees, but she stayed hidden, leaning casually against the rough bark.

A familiar figure emerged from the shadows—her grandmother, walking calmly down the path.

"Nika," her grandmother called softly.

Nika stepped out from behind the trees, brushing dirt from her jacket.

"How did it go?" her grandmother asked, her voice low but steady.

"It was fine," Nika replied with a small shrug. "I hid the bodies easily."

A brief silence lingered between them, the weight of the situation hanging in the air like a thick fog.

Nika shifted awkwardly.

"Grandma… I know you probably have questions," she began, folding her arms across her chest. "But I already know about Grandpa's power."

Before she could continue, her grandmother cut her off.

"I know," her grandmother said quietly.

Nika blinked.

Wait.

The words caught her off guard. She had searched through her grandfather's memories—every important moment between them.

Her grandmother hadn't been told anything in any of her memories

They weren't even close.

"How?" Nika asked after a long pause.

Her grandmother's gaze softened, as if she had expected the question.

"I was one of the few people who knew about your grandfather's power," she said. "After all, it's not every day that a man with no formal training suddenly becomes one of the world's most dangerous assassins."

Nika's eyes narrowed slightly as she let the words sink in.

World's most dangerous?

She mentally flicked through the memories she had absorbed—her grandfather's daily life, his jobs, his targets.

Her grandmother wasn't lying.

Grandpa had been considered one of the deadliest assassins in the world. But something felt off.

His power wasn't part of what I inherited.

Nika realized that the abilities she gained from him were personal—skills from years of experience, not abilities granted by his power.

I can't believe I missed that.

"So… how did you know him?" Nika asked carefully. "Were you friends?"

Her grandmother let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.

"You should know by now that wasn't the case," she said. "I met him for the first time when your parents got engaged."

Nika's eyes narrowed.

"If that's true, why didn't you stop him? You must've known what he was by then."

Her grandmother's expression didn't waver.

"I didn't stop him because I was already retired."

Nika blinked again.

"Retired?" she echoed. "You mean… from writing?"

Her grandmother smiled faintly, shaking her head once more.

"Not from writing you know I'm still doing that," she said. "From my other job."

Nika's body stiffened slightly, sensing where this was going.

"Our family is special, Nika," her grandmother continued. "We've been the keepers of an important secret for generations—a title passed down only to those with the purest hearts."

She took a step closer, her eyes locked on Nika's.

"I gave up that title thirty years ago," her grandmother said. "Your mother… she wasn't good enough. She wasn't meant for it."

Nika's lips parted slightly, but she stayed silent.

"I thought I would be the last one," her grandmother admitted. "I thought I'd have to pass the mantle outside the family. But then you came along even with the influence of your grandfather's power you were always a good person."

Her grandmother's hand lifted, palm facing upward.

A small flicker of fire erupted in the center, swirling gently as it danced across her skin.

When the flames died out, a small, glowing orange stone lay in her palm—radiating faint warmth.

Nika's breath caught in her throat.

She recognized it.

Her grandmother stepped forward, placing the stone carefully in Nika's hand.

"Nika," her grandmother said softly, "I want you to become the next Rogue Sun."

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Chapter 6 will be released in a few hours