2225 AD. The City of Angels - La Ciudad de Los Angeles, as it is properly known - a sprawling megalopolis on the Western coast of the "Northern Union". The City of Angels by day, but by night its residents know it by a different name: La Ciudad de Los Diablos - The City of Devils. Home to millions of average citizens, hundreds of criminal organizations and villains, a score or so of minor heroes, and one Champion of Light - sorta.

Juan Castillo sat on his bed and surveyed his room. There was nothing in the tiny, cramped room to suggest that his life was anything less than usual. An aged computer on a secondhand oak desk, a stack of schoolbooks beside the bed, a window that overlooked the vegetable garden in the backyard...

He played around with a small, silver ring. He knew he should be working on his homework, but lately there was just too much on his mind. Introspection, yes; but it wasn't through the dark sea of misery that he charted his course, as it had been when his father was killed six years ago. Still, though, he had much on his mind, not the least of which was his relationship with his childhood friend, Elizabeth.

"Are we... boyfriend and girlfriend, now?" he mused aloud. Then, staring down at the ring as he twirled it between thumb and index finger, he added. "Or can we even be that at all?" He sighed, confused as any teen can be about relationships, though his were compounded a bit more than others would expect.

The ring.... It all went back to the ring. Twisting it slightly, he read to himself the inscription that was now all-too-familiar. "Upon Wings of Alabaster and Feathers of Light, I Call Upon the Power Within Me......For the Greater Good." The words spinning in his thoughts, his mind traced back to the day when this ring came to him.

Rumors were in all the papers, and the news channels struggled to provide coverage, but with the little that was known, they were forced into a more historic reference than anything else. All that was known was that the hero, Starsurge, was retiring today.

After the ceremony, in the privacy of their home, Maria Castillo, the former Starsurge, handed her ring to her son.

Juan closed his eyes and hugged his knees to his chest, remembering that day. His mother had told him that it was "time to stop being a fulltime hero and part-time mother, and to finally be the fulltime mother" he deserved. He had mixed emotions about it; he felt a little selfish in keeping her to himself when the whole city might need her, but he also felt relief. Every time she was out doing hero work, he worried. His father, Carlos Castillo, better known to the public as Stormecho, had been lost 'in the line of duty,' and though he tried to hide it, he always worried that someday someone would get the best of his mother as well. It wouldn't be the Jackal, though. That was the one time that Starsurge had lost control. The Jackal wasn't in a maximum-security prison or in exile to the Lunar Penal Colony; the Jackal laughed no more, buried beneath a tree in the cemetery behind The Church of Our Holy Lady downtown.

"Juan," she had said, "I need, no, want you to have this." She handed him her ring - the silver ring - the ring that enabled her transformation from Maria Castillo, secretary and government worker, to Starsurge, Champion of Light. "If I don't pass it on, I'm afraid I won't stay retired long. The first time something comes up..." she mimed twisting the ring on her finger, "...and there I'd be, flying across the City to help. There's no one else I'd rather have to keep it safe."

He had taken to wearing it on a chain around his neck, flattered and honored both by the trust and the implicit suggestion that someday he'd be ready to take on the mantle of Champion himself. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. Perhaps he should've had it passed to one of the Legion instead, Camille perhaps. Though, to be honest, none of the Angels needed its power, having wing and powers of their own already.

Of the Legion, they had been doing well for themselves at first. In part due to the restrained nature of the criminal element, waiting to see if Starsurge remained in retirement, and in part due to Starsurge's influence on them. Not only had she helped found them, though Gabriel and Camille had been the driving force, but she was in part their mentor - a surrogate older sister and teacher for the group of confused, young heroes. She had helped train the disparate elements of the Legion, molding a group of individuals into a cohesive team. She held no doubt of their ability to protect the city, though the media found them mostly untested.

Three weeks after the retirement, they had had their first major scuffle in which they weren't playing backup for the more prominent Starsurge. A villain from the past, Banshee, had resurfaced. The top-heavy, shadow-powered waif had launched a sonic barrage in the industrial quadrant of the city, targeting those industries vital to the regional defense organization. The Legion had managed to chase her off, before too much damage had been done, but several had been moved to the wounded list, including Raphael who had ruptured eardrums, and a younger, newer member with a broken spine. It was doubtful whether Lucille would fight again - much less lead a normal life.

Earlier this week, at school, Juan had witnessed his first super-powered villain up close, rather than on the vid, or in stories from his mother or her friends in the Legion.

A blast on the football field was the first indication anyone at Justice A. McLeod Memorial High School had that something was wrong. Thought to be a bomb scare at first, the school was quickly evacuated. Those that had gone around the back way were treated to an unusual scene, high school senior Percival "Perry" Garques, dressed in black with a flaming cape was single-handedly beating the entire Spirit Hawk football team to within an inch of their lives.

...breasts! pushing out a silver and green bandeau-styled top emblazoned with the Star and double S logo of Starsurge, and below that a skirt and heeled boots. The ring had turned him into a girl! With a startled squeak, he (she?) took to the air, fortunately just seconds before the Channel 9 camera crew arrived on the scene.

Juan shook, the memory of his first transformation into a girl still had a powerful effect on him, even weeks later. He had panicked, then, and fled back home, mind caught in a whirlwind of worry, doubt, and confusion. There are no words to describe the relief he felt when he released the power and found himself back in his wingless, male body. He knew he should talk to his mother, but couldn't find the words. "Excuse me, Mom, but your ring turns me into a girl" isn't exactly the best way to open a conversation.

Once more he had used the ring, worrying, perhaps irrationally, that this time it wouldn't work, that he wouldn't turn back. It had been necessary, though. With the Legion underpowered and demoralized from their earlier tangle with the Banshee, they were in no condition to tangle with the Devastator by themselves. Even the original Starsurge had been hard pressed, at times, to deal with the powerful mutant by herself.

Seeing the broken Lucille, whom he barely knew, in his mind, and picturing others of his friends in similar or worse conditions, he knew he had to act. And so, with great reluctance, he once more took on the mantle of hero, with its accompanying feminine form and outfit, and flew off to provide what assistance the new Starsurge could.

With Juan's aid as Starsurge, the Legion was able to bring the Devastator to justice, but the apparent resurgence of Starsurge as a junior Legionnaire made all the papers, most of the news channels, and the topic of Camille and Gabriel's visit to Maria over dinner that night. Juan's mother had shot him an inquisitory glance, which he pretended not to see. Fortunately, she didn't press the issue, either there, or later that night after Camille and Gabriel had left.

He stood, walked to the window and peered out, still lost in thoughts. Pulling the drapes shut, he placed the ring - that silver ring - upon his finger and turned it once, reciting from memory its potent phrase.

Power once again flooded his body, transforming it into a winged female. "I have to get used to this..." He muttered, though accompanying the changes to his body, his voice became softer and pitched slightly higher. It was more a gentle whisper than a muttering. "I have the power, and I have to use it, just as mother did." He - she walked slowly around the room, wings folded carefully behind.

Curiosity warred with embarrassment. Finally, Starsurge stopped in front of the mirror, peering in at her modified reflection. "I'm cute," she thought, "maybe even the type I'd be interested in, if it wasn't for Elizabeth." She looked over at the computer desk, where a framed five-by-seven of the bookish cheerleader rested on a corner. Then, back into the mirror once more she looked, paying attention for the first time just how the transformation to Starsurge changed her.

She was shorter than Juan, though the heeled boots of her uniform helped make up the difference. Without them, she was maybe five-two, five-three. Trim, almost a dancer's or gymnast's build, though her teenaged curves suggested a Latina diva-to-be. She could still see Juan in her face and eyes, though her hair was long and wavy, in a high ponytail rather than a close-trimmed crew cut. The face was softer, too, with wide expressive eyes and slightly pouty lips. She didn't think others would make the correlation, though those that knew Juan well, like Elizabeth Santiago or his mother, Maria, might notice more than just a family resemblance to Juan.

Her uniform was a fair bit different than the original Starsurge's, though - more trendy, less superhero-y. It was similar to outfits that girls might wear to school, though closer to what their older sisters might wear out clubbing. It started with a silver bandeau top, enough to cover, but fully highlight her modest bustline. The upper section had a small strip of green, and the calligraphic double-S upon a star was emblazoned upon the left breast, Starsurge's logo, identical to the original's. The silver skirt was a high-waisted, almost A-line style that only came to mid-thigh, with a thin green stripe band beneath a thin black band forming the waistline. Silver, black, and green - the colours of the City of Angels, fitting for the uniform of the City's greatest champion, or her successor.

The boots, though, were closest in appearance to the original uniform, silver and heeled, reaching upper calf in the back and tapering to a point that touched just below the knee in the front. The silver boots were trimmed along the top with a band of black, Though the original Starsurge's had a low, chunky heel, the 'modernized,' trendy version that Juan wore now bore two-and-a-half inch pointy heels. She wondered how she could stand or walk in them, much less fight, but she's never had any difficulty.

With the boots and their heels on her mind, she tried another walk around the room, amazed at the grace and balance this body possessed. There was not even the slightest wobble or hesitation in her stride. Returning to the mirror, she again studied her uniform, wondering if it would've been more embarrassing to have had her mother's one piece superhero, cleavage-revealing, strapless leotard or this miniskirt and top combo.

She takes off the boots then, standing in bare feet upon the carpet, holding one up and examining it in confusion. Then, setting it aside, and feeling strangely smaller than she is, she once again studies her reflection in the mirror, embarrassment again waging war with curiosity.

Out of politeness and respect, Juan's never really stared at a girl and studied her body the way she has the opportunity to now, completely giving the curves an once-over. It's easier, though, if she imagines that it's not really her body that she's looking at. Fueled then by teenaged male curiosity, a curiosity that's never once taken the opportunity to look at a pornographic magazine, vid, or ether site, she tugs slightly on her top, pulling it down to reveal authentic breasts, and not the convincing padding she half-hoped to see. Minutes of furious blushing and embarrassed staring later, she hooks her thumbs under the waistband of the skirt and pulls that down as well.

Standing half-naked in front of the mirror now, and praying that her mother doesn't decided to stop upstairs for a moment, she stares again, not having the nerve to remove what appears to be the last article of her uniform - more akin to cheerleader briefs than underwear, the green fabric is snug enough that there's no illusion of anything male concealed beneath. Even so, there's a strange reluctance to completely disrobe and remove all doubt. Perhaps it's embarrassment, perhaps it's upbringing, or perhaps it's curiosity assuaged, but she finally breaks out of her almost-trance and guiltily restores her uniform to its proper locations on her body. Blushing again, she turns away from the mirror and releases the power, reverting back to a very aroused, but very confused Juan.

He stands shock-still for many long moments while waiting for the conflicting emotions to fade. Eventually, he takes a seat at his desk, mumbling a quiet apology to the picture of Elizabeth. As twilight approaches, and he amasses a stack of half-solved trigonometry problems, the ring - still on his finger - pulses slightly.

Somehow, Juan knows that evil is afoot in the City - his city. Frowning at his math text, he stands and blows a kiss to the picture of his almost-girlfriend, again muttering an apology for his unfaithfulness in staring at a half-naked Starsurge. Despite misgivings and uncertainties, he twists the ring and utters the power-enabling phrase.

Senses extended, Starsurge knows that it's no minor villainous threat that the City of Angels faces; here at night, in the City of Demons, the Banshee stalks again, and the Legion is in no shape to tussle with her again. In this city, only Starsurge has the power to tangle with the shadow, with the voices of hundreds of ghosts, with the enmity the Banshee has for all. She opens the window and leaps forth into flight, wondering if someday someone won't get the upper hand on her, like they did with her father. She knows, though, that those with the power to do so have a responsibility to help those that can't help themselves. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made...

Maria enters her son's bedroom with a slice of homemade cherry pie and vanilla ice cream in hand - his favourite, only to catch the whisper of a girl's voice on the night's breeze. "It's for the greater good."