The Demigod of Brockton Bay

by uo-chou

When a God from another dimension visits Taylor Hebert in the middle of the night, she is gifted with enough power to change her life forever. Follow her journey to solve her own problems, and then those of her city, and ultimately the misfortunes of the entire world. Watch out, because divinity once more walks the world of Earth Bet.

1. Chapter 1

The Demigod of Brockton Bay

A Worm/Demigods CYOA Story

Chapter 1: Hi God, It's Me, Taylor

Taylor Hebert knew something wasn't right the moment she woke up. She had been having a strange dream, one where she crying out for help to anyone who would listen, begging the cosmos to deliver her from the torment of her life. The brunette teenager sat up in bed, rubbing her weary eyes. She looked out her bedroom window, noticing that it was still late in the night. The brunette girl was sure that she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep. Tomorrow was going be a nightmare; not only would it be the first day of her Sophomore year in highschool, with all of the bullshit which that entailed, but she was going to have to deal with it while exhausted.

Picking up her glasses from the nightstand, Taylor looked around her moonlit room carefully, wondering why she still felt inexplicably worried. Funny, she thought, her closed door was open. Shrugging, she got up from bed and walked toward the door to the hallway, stopping there to flip on the light switch there. When she turned back around to face her room, the teenage girl's heart began beating so hard that it felt like it would jump out of her chest, and a massive spike of adrenaline shot through her veins. There, standing in the doorway of her closet, was a being from a fantasy novel… or a horror movie.

Looking back, Taylor would never understand how she kept from shrieking in pure, unadulterated terror. Eventually, she would decide that the being who visited her that night had probably done something to keep her from attracting attention. In the here and now, however, she wasn't concerned by why she didn't cry out; all of her attention was focused on the topless, winged woman in her bedroom. Using every bit of the steely determination that she developed throughout an entire year of bullying, the young teen managed to speak.

"What are you doing in my home?" She asked, her voice barely more than a cracked whisper. It took everything that Taylor possessed to keep from trembling in the face of what could only be a parahuman, one of the rare people in the world who possessed superpowers. Looking at the woman's shadowy face, and the lizard-like tail which emerged from the back of her dress and brushed lightly across the ground, she was reminded of rumors of capes whose powers had twisted their bodies, turning them into something both less and more than human. 'Monstrous Capes', she remembered one of the silly twits back in her middle school cafeteria whispering to the girl beside her, just loud enough that Taylor had heard it. And then the woman spoke, and her fear turned to confusion.

"My dear child." She chided, in a voice that was so far beyond "lovely" or "beautiful" that Taylor didn't know a word to describe the unearthly rapture of listening to this person speak. "I am of course here because of your request." The second time she spoke, it was with a hint of playfulness, as if she and this bizarre woman were involved in some time of game, rather than the rather more serious situation they found themselves occupied with.

"My… request?" Asked taylor hesitantly. She had never met this woman in her life, let alone invited her into her home.

"Of course, Ms. Hebert." Firm affirmation, no joking at all. The winged cape was pure business, now. "Do you not recall crying out to anyone, or anything that would listen, just minutes ago? Begging the universe at large to deliver you from your horrendously unhappy life?" I couldn't see the twisted angel's face, but it sounded like she was smiling as she said this.

Taylor goggled… could this woman have somehow… heard her dreams? The young girl had vividly recalled her dreams the moment she woke up, and they were exactly as the winged parahumans had described. If this cape was somehow here to help her, Taylor wondered, then maybe she would end up surviving this encounter without becoming yet another victim of parahuman violence.

She grimaced, thinking about the reason why she had feverishly implored the world for help while she was sleeping. Her summer had been more than tolerable, and she had savored every moment that she had been able to leave her problems behind her. The brunette's freshman year had become a nightmare when her best friend in the whole world, a girl that she had seen as a sister, had suddenly turned on her. Every secret that she had whispered to Emma Barnes over the years has become a weapon in her hands, something used to torture and humiliate her.

What was worse, was that Taylor couldn't bring herself to fight back, not against Emma. At first it was because she was so astounded by her betrayal that her sheer surprise wouldn't allow her to. After the shock had worn off, she had held back from doing anything else because she knew it wouldn't do any good. She had told teachers and office staff what Emma and her gang had done to her, showed them proof even, only to be constantly rebuffed. She knew that if she fought back, her tormentors would simply escalate, and the whole thing would end up getting blamed on her.

Now, perhaps, someone was offering her a way out. Her father had failed her; he was purposefully ignorant of her life, due to his continuing depression over the loss of Taylor's mother over a year ago. Her school had failed her as well; they refused to even entertain the idea that she might be telling the truth about her bullies. And Emma… Emma had failed her the worst of all, transforming into a twisted, freakshow caricature of her former self. Perhaps Taylor hadn't ever really known who she was… Regardless of the details, she had no one who willing to give her a way out. Until now, that is.

"Of course." Taylor answered, her voice becoming more confident. "I'm sorry for being so rude, before. You said that you came here to help me?" She studied the subtly wrong angel, her eyes taking in every bit of information she could glean, as the girl stood there in her pajamas. She wondered just what type of help the creature would offer her, if any.

"Oh, yes. There's the girl I sensed." The parahuman chuckled. "Oh, by the way… I'm not a parahuman. I don't think that I'll tell you what I really am, as it would lead to confusion and disbelief, both of which I have little time for. Suffice to say, I am a being of many abilities and talents, and I have come here to offer you something that you have dearly desired all of your life." The being's voice was liquid silk in Taylor's ears, almost compelling her to ask the obvious question.

"What are you offering?" Asked the bespectacled youth. She asked the question, but she already knew what the woman would say. Even though she didn't believe it, the mere possibility sent her veins thrumming, and her tingly sparks shooting down her nerves.

The being chuckled, her wings twitching from her mirth. "But you already know, don't you young one?" She paused, her levity suddenly gone. "I'm offering you power." The last word was whispered, but it hit Taylor with the force of a semi truck.

"What would I have to do?" Whispered the girl.

"Nothing." Said the angel, shocking Taylor. "You see, I'm dying. Or rather, I have decided to die. I'm so massively powerful that I could sustain my existence indefinitely, but where's the fun in that? I'm going on a journey of discovery in places that you are not capable of imagining, and I cannot take the power I wield on this level of existence with me. I have split my power into pieces, and gifted the majority of it to those worthy few I found in my own dimension, which is not this one."

The snake-tailed woman paused, her shadowy gaze locked onto Taylor's, judging her. "This world has need of a hero. Someone to save the innocent from the coming storm. I believe that you have what it takes, to be this hero, young one. I have saved two full measures of the power I gifted to many others, and it's just for you." She chuckled, making Taylor flush at how beautiful the sound was. "You will need need double what I gave to the others in my home world, just to survive in this disgusting hell-world."

Taylor felt a sudden surge of anger at this being's disregard for her birthplace. Then she thought about it for a moment, before silently agreeing with the misshapen angel. Earth Bet was basically a polished turd, after having suffered nearly three decades of abuse from parahumans and the Endbringers. "Tell me what I have to do to gain this power." Said the girl, steeling herself for some bizarre ritual, or a painful ritual.

Oddly, despite not being able to see the woman's face, Taylor once more felt her smiling. "You will need to…" she paused, her voice trailing off.

"Yes?" Taylor asked, her voice desperate.

"You will need to fill out this paperwork!" Said the bare-chested being. Taylor nearly fell to the ground, such was her astonishment.

"Paperwork!?" She exclaimed, her earlier reticence forgotten.

"Well, you don't expect me to sit her for the rest of the night describing the options that you can pick, do you? There are quite a few to choose from, after all." The tone of voice was matter of fact, and before Taylor knew it she was perusing a series of powers that she could buy with "points" that the angel had told her were now hers. The powerful creature, or cape, or whatever she was, had informed Taylor that she would get 200 of these points to spend, which was evidently twice as many as the woman's earlier recipients had been given.

Taylor was rendered speechless at the list of powers and abilities given, and nearly fainted at some of their descriptions. She realized that with the right combination of the powers listed here, she could become more powerful than the entire Triumvirate put together! Still, raw combat ability wasn't what she was after. Yes, she would need to be able to defend herself, but she also wanted to pick powers and abilities that would allow her to help the greatest number of people that she could. She asked the angel a few questions, when the supplied details weren't completely understandable, but for the most part worked quietly. After an indeterminate amount of time, she was finished.

Handing the filled out paperwork to the angel, she waited tensely. If this were some sort of elaborate prank, or a way for some cape to get their jollies, she imagined that right now would be when they revealed it to her. The angel looked over the choices which Taylor had made, occasionally making a humming or clicking noise, as if in wonderment or approval, though only the strange being knew what the noises actually meant. Finally, she finished reading, and the papers simply disappeared, as if they had never been.

The angel clapped her hands, and for the first time since she had arrived, stepped out of the high schooler's closet. As she approached, Taylor felt a metaphysical weight begin to settle over her, as if worlds worth of gravity was settling on her shoulders. When the angel was close enough to touch, the curly haired teen was not even able to move... such was the ambient power of the being standing in front of her. The angel's face, which had been shrouded in shadow, was finally revealed. Taylor nearly fainted at the sight, but with a massive exertion of her willpower she resisted the temptation. The sight of the...God's face was indescribable. Something had changed within her, Taylor knew, or else the mere vision of that divine countenance would have killed her as surely as any bullet or laser beam.

"Yes." spoke the God, directly replying to her thoughts. Taylor, a lifelong atheist, suddenly realized that she had been wrong the entire time, and the weight of that simple realization was more potent than the physical force holding her rooted to the ground. "I am a God. But you were right to think that there were no Gods in this dimension, "Little Owl"."

The being chuckled. "There are no more Gods on your world. They existed here, once, but all of them passed on millenia ago, leaving your planet to the mercies of any creature of sufficient power to come along. But now that I have empowered you, there is a chance, albeit a slim one, that one day soon a God will tread on the soil of Earth Bet." Taylor could hardly believe what the deity was implying… It couldn't be, could it?

"You now carry more of my spark than any other single being, so it's possible that one day you may be able to take up my mantle. If you desire this, then know that for a Demigod to achieve true Godhood, she must do great deeds. Your accomplishments must cause mountains to shake, or for great towers to be built. Entire armies of mortal men must tremble at your passage… or salute you. The entire world must know of you, and either love you or fear you for this possibility to come to pass." The teenager's eyes were as wide as dinner plates at this announcement, the mere possibility that she might be able to become an actual God so astounding and earth shattering that she had no clue what to say or do.

The God's voice was quieter, now. More… personable. "But… of those I have empowered, you, Taylor Hebert, are one of the few who might actually be able to do it. I go now, to my destiny. The greater universe awaits me. If you succeed in replacing me, then one day I expect you to meet me in the great beyond, to where I now travel. Know that I do not say this lightly, but I would be very pleased to see you succeed me in my profession, Taylor."

Taylor's savior reached down, running her fingers along her jawline. Energies beyond comprehension crackled as she did so, and a jolt shot through the girl, adding a little something extra to the immense power which she had already been given. "A few personal gifts, beyond what I have already provided to you." she whispered, winking at the high schooler. Taylor blushed, and before she knew what was happening, the enigmatic being from beyond the boundaries of the world was gone, leaving Taylor Hebert standing alone in her bedroom, facing a suddenly vacant closet.

. . .

I stood there, rooted to the same spot for an indeterminate amount of time, simply existing. When I came back to my senses, I realized with a start that it was light out now and I had no idea of the time. I scrambled over to my bed, glancing at the clock. I sighed, it was only 6:15, and there would be plenty of time to get ready before school started. I hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind me and flipping on the light. Upon glancing into the mirror, I paused, dumbstruck by what I saw there. The reflection in the mirror was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. Before my encounter with the God, my eyes had seemed a little too large, and my lips too thin. I had vaguely disliked my nose, and I thought of my hair as my best, most feminine feature.

My hair had competition, now; major competition, to be sure. My features were all...refined, for lack of a better term. They were still mostly the same shape, and in mostly the same places, but they had each been modified just so to subtly correct any flaws and draw out the beauty that had seemingly been hidden within me the whole time. Because I was most assuredly beautiful, now; almost supernaturally so, in fact. The hundreds of tiny changes which had been made to my face… as well as the rest of my body, I noted, after glancing down, had created a whole which was much more than the sum of my individual parts. I twirled around, smiling as I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I was beautiful now!

Every insecurity, everything about my body image that used to give me pause or make me feel less than pretty… each and every thing that Emma and her cronies had used to tear me down was gone. There was absolutely no reason for me to feel insecure about how I looked now, because I was literally the most beautiful person that I had ever seen. And not just in person, either; I'm not ashamed to admit that I looked better than any model or actress on TV or in fashion magazines. I had almost not picked "Divine Beauty", wondering if it was worth the points that I would have to spend on it. I had selected it out of vanity, and the desire to look better, something I think most girls and women would have done in my place as well. Hell, I'll bet most men would have gone for that particular perk as well. I had never expected that it might actually be able to stack up to the other powers and attributes which I could have picked instead.

Now I knew why "Divine Beauty" was worth the points. I really was supernaturally gorgeous; I doubted that there was a mortal alive who could compete with my appearance now. And somehow, I was still recognizably me even though I now looked like this. Magic, indeed. I laughed so hard that I nearly choked, wondering how I had ever been jealous of Emma Barnes. She was a shit covered sow compared to the new me. The stupid bitch would have a heart attack once she saw my new appearance! I would not have to use my "Illusionist" powers to hide my appearance, from anyone other than my father, at least. He was the only person who had seen me every day this summer, as thanks to Emma I didn't have a single friend my own age any longer. I had gone the whole summer without once running into the bitch who made every day of school a torment last year.

Still, I would slowly reveal the true me over the course of a month or two to my dad, so that I wouldn't have to hide the way I looked from my only living parent long-term. It might take a couple of months of incremental changes, but he would be seeing the real me soon enough. I was a little worried that someone gross might try to hit on me, or something like that, but it wasn't a big worry. I was supposed to have the power to move faster than the speed of sound and levitate objects with my mind now, so there wasn't much that was a threat to me any longer. I should probably start learning how to use my powers right away… at least a few of them. God knows that with my luck, it would be sooner rather than later when I would need them.

I quickly showered and dressed, performing the various other sundry morning tasks along the way. I practiced using my illusions in the shower, finding it extremely easy to make my body look like it did prior to my transformation. My powers appeared to be insanely intuitive… either that, or my newly upgraded mind was just that good. It was probably a combination of these things, I eventually decided. I didn't have reason to test my disguise, however, as Dad was long gone by the time I arrived downstairs. I had almost an hour before I had to head to the bus stop after getting ready, so I spent that time working on telekinesis and "Divine Speed". So many "Divine" this and "Godly" that… It would have been funny if it wasn't so frightening that I now had powers given to me by an actual God.

In the end, I was able to learn how to switch on my super speed at will, and to levitate small objects without dropping them. Super speed was by far the most fun out of the powers I had used so far. I was able to zip up and down the stairs a few dozen times in less than a minute, all without breaking a sweat or needing to stop to catch my breath. Moving that fast felt pleasant, like a good stretch in bed just after waking up. I couldn't wait until I had time to cut loose! Telekinesis was amazing as well; thanks to superspeed and "Godly Mind" I was able to easily keep track of however many objects as I chose, and move around at will. At one point I had the entire contents of my backpack flying around me in a circle, orbiting me like satellites would a planet. I briefly used Illusions to actually transform my appearance in that of mighty Jupiter, and the floating pencils and notebooks transformed into its vast rings of particulate matter. I was somehow able to this complex illusionary tableau as if from the outside, which I suspect was due to the "God's Eyes" power I had taken. Using these powers was amazing, and I loved every minute of it.

In the end, I had to augment myself with a smidgen of super speed to catch my bus. Still, I barely made it, just managing to hop through the door as the large passenger vehicle pulled away from the curb. Brockton Bay didn't actually have proper school busses; rather, students were given passes which allowed us to ride the fairly robust public bus system that the city sported. The driver grumbled something at me as he turned to glare in my direction. When he saw me, however, his eyes bulged nearly out of his face, and his face turned bright red. Turning away from me to face the road, he muttered an apology. Wow! I hadn't been expecting that level of reaction. It was kind of creepy, actually, and a little bizarre... especially since the bus driver was almost as old as my dad. Several other people on the bus, including a few of my fellow students, hastily looked away as I walked down the aisle. It was as if they were afraid I would be angry at them for staring. One of the boys who was around my age studied me for a long moment. His eyes were nearly as wide was the bus drivers has been, and when realized that I had 'caught' him staring, he quickly turned to look out the window. I smirked, putting a little bit of sway into my hip as I walked; he had been pretty cute. There was an empty seat near the back, thankfully; I was grateful not to have to share with a stranger.

Before long we arrived at my school; Winslow Union High. Being inhumanly beautiful was becoming something of a disappointment beyond the initial rush I had felt upon seeing myself in the mirror. If people kept staring at me as intently as they did all throughout the bus ride then I would never be very inconspicuous; not a great thing for an aspiring hero. It was a very good thing, then, that I had taken the Illusionist power. At least with it there, I would have it available if I needed to hide or blend into a crowd. It didn't surprise me when I kept getting looks, glances, and outright stares as I entered the main building. The number of girls who were looking at me was surprising, though… Namely, all of them. I didn't think there was that many girls who swung for the other team at Winslow, so it was probably more akin to surprise and jealousy than anything like outright desire. I had never been very pretty, before, but now that I was a part of that elite club I was learning that there were as many hazards to being beautiful as there were to being plain… more, even!

In celebration of my powers, I had worn the most stylish clothing that I owned. Since the bullies really settled into their routine, I had been gradually gravitation toward drab colored, oversized clothing; that didn't leave me with a ton of choices now that I wanted to show off. Still, I had some things from the beginning of freshman year, which I had picked up before my social ostracism began. These clothes had been a little large at the time, which was paying off now, as with my new figure they fit like a charm. Well, almost… The shirt, which had been baggy toward the top, was now stretched fairly tightly around my substantially increased bust, causing it to ride up and expose a few inches of my completely flat midriff.

My old impulse would have been to wear anything else, as I hated to expose any part of my skin. Using my new super genius intellect, I had figure out that showing off like this would be a good thing. It was a statement to those who had once ridiculed me for having a little bit a fat on my tummy, and for every other inane insult. It said that I didn't have anything to fear from them anymore; there was nothing left to make fun of. I had thrown a new black denim jacket on over the shirt; it was the right size, which was everything positive I could say about the garment which I had hastily chosen a few weeks ago. The jacket would be going into my locker until it was time to leave school.

The bottom I had on was an old pair of jeans from last year. They were more than a little tight now, especially around my hips and backside, but they still fit. Since dad couldn't sew, I had further contributed to the fashion retardation I displayed to the rest of the freshman class last year by rolling up the legs of these jeans until they didn't drag on the ground. After my power-assisted growth spurt, though, they were just the right length. There was nothing to be done about my shoes, they were the same red converse allstars that I had purchased a few days ago during the last round of back to school shopping that I indulged in. They were the same kind of shoes that I had been wearing since I was a little kid; there had never been any real reason to switch to something different, and I quite liked them. Emma had teased me about wearing little kid shoes before, but discreetly glancing at my fellow students' feet as I walked the halls, I spotted seven other girls wearing allstars as well. It looked like they were making a comeback.

I stopped at my locker, dropping off the plain jacket, as well as a the text books I wouldn't need for my first few classes. As I was placing these things inside, I heard the voice of the person who I hated the most in the world; Emma. It was funny, but yesterday I didn't hate her. In fact, until this very moment, I hadn't realized the depth of loathing that I felt for the girl. Before my ascension, I had been curious about why she had betrayed me. I had also been scared of making her angrier, and most shamefully, deep inside I had thought there might someday be a chance of rebuilding our friendship. I could see now that these were all excuses which I had built up for my inaction; I had been so devastated by Emma's action toward me that I had clung to any excuse I could come up with, to justify simply doing nothing. Not so, any longer. Never again; I was better than my ex-friend now. I would not be cowed or bullied by her any longer. I listened to just a few words of the poison coming out of her mouth before turning around to confront her.

"Wow, look at her being so bold! It looks like little Taylor's decided to-" Her crowd of cronies and minions would never learn what I had decided to do, at least not from Emma's mouth. When I finished turning around, my no longer best friend, and erstwhile tormentor was seemingly struck dumb by my appearance. The words she had been about to speak were stuck in her stupid throat, never to emerge.

I smiled at her, showing off my perfect teeth. I had never had any problems with my teeth before my transformation, but now they were so straight that they looked almost unreal, and so white that they literally sparkled in the light. "Oh, is that Emma Barnes? I remember you." I looked her up and down, my eyes giving me more information on her physical state than I knew what to do with. "You're certainly looking… plump today, Emma." The sound of my voice was as perfect as my physical features. When I giggled at my own joke, I was surprised to hear a few of Emma's lackeys laugh along with me. I didn't let my surprise show, maintaining a nearly emotionless facade the entire time.

Emma's face was flushed red, and her eyes wide. "Taylor…?" She half asked, half stated, a note of utter confusion in her voice. I glanced around surreptitiously, noting that Emma's thuggish lackey, Sophia Hess, was absent this time. I doubted that anyone else here would try to get physical with me, especially in light of Emma's floundering. I closed my locker, and giving my ex-friend a smirk, walked right past her. The crowd parted for me, people taking an unconscious step back in the face of my sheer magnificence. One of the girls in the crowd, I little blonde named Alice or Allison, or something like that, was staring at me intently, her cheeks bright red. I gave her a wink as I passed by, seeing her swallow nervously in response. I guess Winslow did have a girl or two who batted for the other team after all. I wasn't interested in her or anything like that, but I took a mental note of her interest in case I needed to use it at some point in the future.

I guess I was being a little ruthless, but it was certainly better than going Carrie on their asses. One thought and I could summon the divine weapon I had chosen, or even my divine guardian, who was a giant monster who could breath out plasma beams that traveled at the speed of light. Fully realizing that being a complete bitch to these girls was the most merciful thing I could do in retaliation for their past actions made me feel a little better about the social engineering that I was putting into practice.

I was a probably ten feet from my locker when Emma finally worked up the gumption to respond to the little show that I had put on for her. "Don't you dare walk away from me!" She screamed, her voice filled with shock and outrage, mixed with what I suspected was more than a small amount of fear. She had let me set terms of our last encounter, and I had won it unequivocally. Now, in order to maintain her spot in the social hierarchy, she would have to show her followers that she was still the school's foremost alpha bitch. I smirked, continuing to walk away as if I hadn't heard her.

Soon enough, Emma's clumsy footfalls indicated that she was rapidly approaching. I activated the ocular power that I chosen, "God's Eyes", using it to peer through my own head, looking at her coming up behind me. Adding a bit of superspeed to my eyeballs, I rapidly looked through walls until I found what I was looking for.

It only took a few seconds to find exactly what I was looking for. 'Oh, yes.' I thought. 'That will do nicely.' I sped up very slightly, maintaining my lead on Emma. She couldn't actually run after me… not unless she wanted to look weak in front of her friends, so she had to keep to a walking pace. I had to keep walking too, for similar reasons, but due to my long legs and superior physical condition I was easily able to stay ahead of the short redhead.

I spun on my heel, taking a right into an adjacent hallway. I walked a few more feet, before stopping right in front of an open classroom door. It was time to set the scene. Turning around, I leaned up against the fully opened classroom door, quietly setting my backpack on the ground nearby. Emma quickly rounded the corner, and boy were her cheeks red! The expression she wore on her face was filled with anger and shame.

When she saw me standing there with my hand in front of my face, casually examining my fingernails for imperfections, she glared at me murderously. A few of her cronies were beginning to approach now, thought her entourage contained fewer than half of the people it did previously. It made me a little giddy when I realized that the plan that I'd thrown together on the way to school was working so much better than I thought it would. I gazed at the fuming teenager dispassionately, my upper back barely touching the open door behind me as I leaned back, my every action screaming nonchalance.

The incandescent redhead stomped up to me, stopping less than a foot away from where I stood. I looked up from my nails, appearing utterly unphased by her naked aggression. There was every indications that I was much more concerned with the state of my perfectly manicured nails than I was with her. I had carefully crafted this tableau to make Emma completely lose her shit... and it was working beautifully.

I looked up, peering at her over my still outstretched hand as if surprised. I blinked, looking at her with a serene expression on my face while I watched her stand there fuming. Emma's breath was coming out somewhat raggedly; I had been walking rather fast, after all. I pretended to have just noticed her. "Oh, it's you again." I said, in an ultra sweet tone. "Did you need something, Jenna?" I asked, confusion clearly present in my voice. One of the girls standing behind her snickered, causing the short redhead to tense up even further. She was losing them.

"It's Emma, you bitch!" She snarled, flecks of spittle flying from her mouth. 'Oh my,' I thought, 'She's really getting worked up.'

"No one walks away from me!" The girl standing in front of me exclaimed passionately. "Especially not you!" Her voice was more of a screech than a scream, and several of the onlooker, both Emma's crowd, as well as passersby, flinched.

I smirked. "Well, Edna," I began, but was cut off.

"Emma!" She screamed, enraged. There were more giggles, several this time, and I could see the crowd edging away from the furious little ginger. They were starting to gravitate toward the other side of the hall. I realized that these girls really were like wild animals; they could sense when their leader had bitten off more than she could chew, and they were preemptively separating themselves from her to avoid the inevitable fallout. God, it was wonderful to be so smart, and to have so much general knowledge. The world in general, and social interactions specifically just made so much sense now!

"Whatever." I said absently, buffing my nails on my blouse. "Anyway, I have no clue why you keep following me around. I think that we might have hung out a few times when we were little kids, but that was years ago, and I've moved on since then. I'm really sorry, but I don't have a place in my social circle for you right now, Emily. I'm sorry if I've hurt your feelings, but I just have too much to do to take on a new project-err, friend right now." Oh, shit! I didn't realize that it was possible to get that red. The curvy little shit looked like she was going to have a heart attack.

Emma let out an inarticulate cry of rage, and launched herself at me, trying to tackle me or something. Limiting myself to speeds plausible for a normal human being, I danced out of the way sideways, exposing the door behind me. Emma was going to fast and moving far too recklessly to abort her hasty attack, and despite her best efforts her head and right hand slammed into the door with a hollow cracking sound, like two coconuts being struck against each other.

There was a very good reason why I had chosen to have my confrontation here, in front of this particular classroom. I had seen a group of talking inside of this room, which included Principal Blackwell, my favorite teacher, Gladys Knott, as well as three men in sharp-looking business suits. I had been tracking them them the entire time, and all of them were walking toward the door as soon as Emma started screaming. Several of them were peering out the doorway for the last part of the confrontation, causing quite a few people who had been in the crowd to disperse. Emma, lost in her anger, had never noticed their approach.

Principal Blackwall was walking toward Emma angrily, her mouth opened to speak, when the little redhead decided that it was good idea to charge my ass like a fucking bull. The principal, as well as one of the suited men, stared at her in horror as I flowed out of the way. Wincing when her head impacted the door hard enough to rattle the frame. I stared at Emma in undisguised shock, never imagining that she would do something like that. I figured she might throw a punch or slap me, but this was insane!

"Oh, my God!" I cried, staring down at the crumpled form of Emma Barnes. Sure, she was a piece of shit traitor, but I didn't want something like that to happen to her. I had been counting on at least a suspension, as I knew that she couldn't keep her mouth shut, but at most I had expected her to get expelled for attacking me, not to get her head rammed into a solid wood door.

Several of Emma's "friends" were standing there, expressions of shock on their faces, a few even crying out in shock. A few more had blank looks on their faces, though one girl in the back tried to hide a smirk by placing her hand over her mouth, as if she was covering up a gasp or a frown. I made a note to remember her face, as that was a strange reaction to an event like this. Principal Blackwell was looking at the knocked out girl in shock, her eyes narrowed and her face set in a stern frown; in short, her regular expression. One of suits was kneeling down, his hand lightly touching the side of Emma's neck, the other reaching into his pocket for a cellphone.

I could see through his hand and the back of the phone's case, that he was dialing 911. He spoke into the receiver, giving the name and address of the school, and then performing a few steps that the operator asked him to. I just stood there, in the middle of the hall, right where I had moved to in order to avoid Emma's attack. Five minutes or more must have passed, and the school nurse was not tending to the fallen bully, when Mrs. Blackwell walked up to me, standing by my side.

I was surprised to discover that this woman, who had seemed quite tall last year, was now a little shorter than me. "Mrs. Hebert," she said quietly. "I need you to come into the classroom, there. I would like to speak with you privately." I nodded, and followed her into the same classroom that she had emerged from moments earlier. It was one of the computer labs, the one that I didn't have classes in. It looked like the computers were set up for CAD, or computer aided drafting, and there was a massive printer in the corner. A plotter, my new knowledge base supplied; a special type of printer used to generate oversized pictures and blueprints. I guess this would be the drafting lab, then.

"Ms. Hebert, can you please tell me how the… event that I just witnessed in the hallway came about?" She asked, her voice filled with discontent. In the past I might have been concerned, but now, not so much. I had had at least a dozen student witnesses, as well as five adults. It was clear that I was in no way at fault for Emma's stupidity, and if Blackwell somehow tried to make it my fault, I would get a lawyer and sue Winslow into the ground.

"Emma started talking to me earlier this morning, while I was putting some things away in my locker, but she was acting really funny. She kept looking at me oddly, and trailing off when she tried to speak. It was really weird, so I left as quickly as I could. She followed me down the hallway, and confronted me outside of this room."

I paused, examining the administrator to see if she was buying it. Blackwell had a frown on her face, but it looks like it was a concerned frown, rather than a "fucking liar" frown. "We haven't been friends for a really long time, so I have no idea why she was even talking to me… We haven't even spoken since before the last school year ended. I tried to tell her nicely that I'm not really interested in being friends with her any more, and then she went crazy for some reason, and tried to attack me! I didn't want to get tackled, or whatever she was planning to do to me, so I moved out of the way, and she slammed into the door... "

I looked down, a sad expression on my face. I created the illusion of a tear forming in my eye, and then running down my cheek. "Is she going to be OK?" I asked, my voice cracking.

Blackwell looked uncomfortable, and had her hand on her forehead, as if she was fighting off a headache. She sighed, and then answered my question. "I don't know, Ms. Hebert. It was a pretty nasty impact. Nurse Esperanza is an RN, so she has quite a bit of training; she will take good care of Ms. Barnes until the ambulance gets here."

She lightly patted me on the shoulder with her cold, bony hand, before walking toward the door. I followed her. "Now, please get to your first class, Ms. Hebert. I don't have a note on me, but you can tell your first period teacher that there was an accident, and that you had to speak with me afterward."

"Alright," I said, my voice glum. It didn't appear that Blackwell was going to punish me for this one, or try to make it somehow my fault. We split up at the door, each of us heading off in different directions. Emma was no longer on the ground, though there was a small bloodstain on the door, which had dribbled down onto the plain white tiling beneath my feet.

I wondered if the strangely cordial interaction I had with the principal just a moment ago was due to my new appearance, or because I knew how to communicate with people much more easily now. Probably both, I decided as I walked to my first class of the day. It was computers with Mrs. Knott, so she wouldn't be asking me for a note or excuse, as she had been there as well. I held back my desire to smile or start whistling as I entered my computers class, holding my exuberance in until later.

Sure, I was a tiny bit upset that Emma had cracked her head, but it's not like she didn't deserve it, or that it wasn't her own fault. Overall, though, I was very satisfied with what had happened in the hallway. No matter what happened from here, the little bitch who had made an entire year of my life pure torment would know that she could no longer fuck with me with impunity. Before I sat down at my computer station, I gave the entire school another quick scan with my amazing new eyes, peering through people and solid walls, taking in everything.

'What is that?' I thought, as I focused on something strange outside on the school grounds, outside of the gymnasium. I watched as a roughly human-shaped cloud of smoke shifted through the outer wall of the building, emerging in the girl's locker room. It was one of the Wards, I realized, the new one; Shadow Stalker, I thought her name was. I hadn't realized that a Ward went to school here before now.

The costumed hero looked around the empty area, before bolting the door leading into the locker room. She turned into smoke again, and then phased her arm through one of the inner walls, pulling out a bundled set of clothing, including shoes. I absently booted up my computer, simultaneously watching the screen and observing the cape in the girls locker room. When the "hero" removed her mask, I froze up in shock, my fingers twitching in barely controlled fury, as I fought to stop myself from reacting to this new revelation in a more overt manner. I kept my eyes locked onto her as she changed, my anger growing exponentially by the second.

The runner up for the position of "biggest bitch" in my life, Sophia Hess, was evidently a parahuman. Not only that, but she was supposed to be a fucking hero as well, and a member of the Protectorate Wards team. I shuddered in hatred, the urge to speed down to the locker room and bisect her with a lightsaber so intense that I could almost taste it. It would not help my plans if I killed her, I forced myself to acknowledge, it would do little more than to make my life harder. I struggled with my anger for a few more minutes, before mastering myself.

I watched Sophia walk to her next class, my God's eye tracking her every movement, while my Godly Mind sped through the implications of my tormentor's parahumanity. In rapid succession, I realized that her powers were the reason for the missing books and for the staff refusing to listen to my complaints involving her; they had to be aware of her status. My eyes narrowed as I remembered my mother's flute disappearing one day, just after I had bought a new padlock for my locker. I recalled finding it, my prized posession covered in substances so nasty that I still didn't like to think about it. When I returned with paper towels and a bag to carry it home in, the flute was once again gone.

The next expression to cross my face was not a frown, a grimace, or even a look of rage, but a serene smile. Sophia had used her superpowers to ruin my life for a full school year, and had she had not suffered a single iota for it. Behavior like that simply could not be excused, especially amongst those who wielded powers beyond those of normal men and women. I don't know if she understood just how much torment she has caused me, just how much I had suffered over losing my mother's flute alone, but she would.

Sophia would learn to suffer, though, because it was her karma to be paid back threefold for the bullshit she had put me through. She had completely ruined my freshman year in highschool, and in return for that, and in accordance with the rules of karma, I would ruin three of hers. It was just good fortune that both she and I had three more years left in the same high school. I smiled as I imagined the different ways that I could torment her using my powers. It might be a little petty to do so, but it was certainly petty of her to start it in the first place. It wasn't like I was planning to devote a large amount of my time to her, either; a little nudge here, and a tiny push there would be enough to ensure that she got her just deserts.

. . .

The morning passed me by in a blur, with the lunch break swiftly arriving. I found myself ravenous, as if I hadn't eaten in days. I headed to the cafeteria, in order to buy some overpriced slop to tide me over until I got home. Earlier, I had considered the possibility of a fight, as my rapidly growing lip reading skills had informed me that rumors of me sending Emma to the hospital were traveling through the school like wildfire. Thankfully, Sophia had been pulled aside by a member of the staff, who I'm fairly sure told her that Emma was injured. She left soon after, once again changing into her superhero guise in the locker room and leaving through the solid wall.

As I lip read during my classes, I had been equal parts flattered and embarrassed to hear many of the guys, and even a few girls whispering to each other about "the tall hottie with curly hair" or "the brunette goddess". My favorite part of the day so far, was between periods three and four, when a tiny blushing freshman had told me "Sorry, my Lady." when he found himself blocking my path. It was so adorable that I had to force myself not to pinch his cheek and coo.

Outside of the lunchroom, I gathered my courage, and used it to reforge myself into solid steel. Walking into the cafeteria regally, I gazed around, eyeing my classmates critically. Conversations quieted or halted as I made my way to the line and picked up a tray. Nearly everyone had their eye on my at one time or another, and if I hadn't been expecting it, the entire thing would have been extremely unnerving. I grabbed two slices of pepperoni pizza, a carton of vitamin D milk, a chicken caesar salad that didn't look too bad, and two m&m cookies. I paid for my lunch at the counter, and then went to find somewhere to eat.

The girl who had blushed at me in the hallway near my locker, Alice, or Allison, waved at me was I walked by her, so I gave her a smile and a wave back. This made her to blush again, nearly causing me to giggle at her embarrassed expression. A dark-haired girl sitting next to the bright red blonde whispered something in her ear, after which her cheeks burned even brighter. I chuckled to myself as I sat down at an empty table. I prepared to eat, opening my milk carton, and drizzling caesar dressing over my salad. As I started to dig in, I saw a familiar face standing nearby, seemingly waiting for me to acknowledge her presence.

It was the girl who had snickered at Emma's little spill in the hallway. I didn't really recall her name, as I don't think she went to Winslow for her freshman year. Now that I knew a little about how social dynamics worked, I was determined to use that information to become unassailable. That meant forging friendships, or at least alliances. Looking back with the perspective that I now had, I knew that it would have been totally impossible for Emma and Sophia to treat me the way they had if I had been part of anyone's social circle. I had basically been cut off from society, making me a valid target for literally whatever they wanted to do to me. It was really fucked up, but human beings don't really care about people who aren't part of their "monkey circle". Well, here was my first opportunity to build my own group.

I smiled at the girl, giving her a quick once over with my eye power. She was a latina of medium height for our age, maybe 5'3 or so. Her hair was black, and had a slight wave in it, and it reached nearly to her knees. She wasn't fat, or even chubby, really, but she thick, with powerful looking arms and legs. Her torso was also a little wider than average, and rather well muscled as well. She had friendly looking face, with a wide smile. The only physical feature she had that really stood out was her enormous breasts. They were easily the biggest that I had seen on a girl our age, being nearly as big around as her head. After my transformation my own breasts were nothing to sneeze at, but they were still at least two or three cup sizes smaller than this girl's. I fought down a surge of envy; I really wouldn't want mine to be that big, anyway. Besides, I was still larger than Emma, and that was what really mattered in the end.

"Hi," I said, smiling at the girl, "Do you want to sit down?" I asked, nodding to the chair beside mine.

"Thanks!" She chirped, taking the offered seat. Her voice was very high pitched, making her sound much younger than she actually was. "I'm Cammy, by the way. I'm new to the city, never even been out of Texas before until my mom up and moved us here out of the blue 'cause of her new job." She spoke quite rapidly, using a lot of gestures to emphasize her words.

"It's nice to meet you Cammy. I'm Taylor. I've lived in the Bay for all of my life; it's not the most wonderful place to live, but there is definitely some good thing to go along with the bad." I gave her a big grin as I spoke, trying my best to make a good impression.

"What, like getting to see random dumb-bitch gingers headbut doors?" She asked. Her face sported a huge, shit eating grin.

I couldn't help but bust into a fit of giggles that stole my breath away. I laughed so hard that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. I noticed that the people eating at tables nearby were also laughing at Cammy's comment. Was our conversation so interesting that they all had been listening in?

"Yeah," I said, my laughter dying down. "That's definitely one of the perks of living in Brockton Bay." All of the stress I had been carrying up until now had melted away, and I felt lighter than air. I had definitely needed a good laugh.

"What's the deal between you and her, anyway? She was acting like you were supposed to be kissing the ground she walks on, and you didn't seem to give two shits about her." I noted that Cammy had a gift for "cutting the bullshit", as my Dad's friend Kurt used to say. I like direct people. Direct is good.

"Emma Barnes is a complete and utter bitch." I said, returning her compliment of speaking to me in a straightforward manner by doing likewise. "She and her buddy Sophia Hess treated me like crap all last year, and I was dumb enough to let them get away with it." I frowned, lowering my voice for this next part. "Emma used to be a good friend of mine, pretty much all throughout my childhood. We were like sisters. Then suddenly, I came back from summer camp the summer before our freshman year, and she wouldn't give me the time of day. She had this new friend, Sophia, and I apparently she didn't like me, and avoided me all summer. When we started school here, Emma and her new buddy started trashing my books and stealing my stuff… the worst part was that they're both such good liars that none of the teachers believed they did it. Part of that is my fault, I guess, because I really didn't work that hard to get them in trouble."

Cammy's eyes were wide, and she looked faintly horrified. "Those utter cunts!" She hissed.

I nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. Anyhow, my looks came in over the summer, as well as some more brains, I guess, and I decided that I wasn't going to take any more of their shit, ever again. So when Emma started up with me today, I treated her like the nonentity that she is, and that apparently pissed her off mightily. You saw the rest."

She grinned again. "You bet I did, Tay! You're really fast, you know, to dodge her the way you did. Have you ever thought about going out for sports? Maybe track?"

I snorted. "Emma's buddy Sophia is the track team's star athlete, and she hates my guts. Emma usually tries to hurt people with words, today was the first time I've ever seen her get physical, but Sophia is pretty much a sociopath. She was alway pushing me, or trying to trip me down the stairs." I frowned, thinking about the bully who was secretly a fucking hero. I wondered if the Wards knew what kind of shit she got up to. "Last year I saw Sophia mop the floor with a big senior guy, who was maybe 6'4 and 250 pounds; she totally kicked his ass, using some kind of martial arts moves. If I tried to join track, then it would be less than a week before I'd have an 'accident' that would hurt me bad enough that I would have to quit the team."

"That's bullshit," grumbled Cammy, "how the hell does she get away with that shit? If someone tried that kind of shit in Houston, then everyone else would gang up on them until they stopped."

"I don't know." I said, shrugging. "Maybe the school just doesn't want to lose their star athlete. Whatever it is, it's bullshit, and I'm not going to take it anymore. The next time she tries to touch me, or if I see her trying to bully anyone else, I'm going to do whatever it takes to stop her." My eyes had gone hard halfway through my impromptu vow, and Cammy shivered dramatically when I finished talking.

"Burr! You're hardcore, Tay. But, if she was able to kick your ass all around the schoolyard last year, how do you plan to make her stop?" She seemed genuinely curious, there was no taunting at all in her voice.

I shrugged. "Like I said, last year I let them get away with it." I trailed off, my eyes becoming glassy, as my brain took me to unpleasant places. "My mom died about a year and a half ago, and Emma was my only close friend at the time. She really helped me get through the whole deal, so it was really fucking nuts when she suddenly turned on me. I guess part of me wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, to see if she would stop acting like an asshole... or at least tell me why she had started treating me like garbage." I frowned. "Sophia might know martial arts, but so do I. I started studying after my mom died, and it really helped with the grieving process. I just never… had the will to use it against anyone before, I guess."

Cammy smiled. "So, basically what you're saying is that if Sophia starts some shit, you're going to finish it?" She asked.

I smiled. "Pretty much. I have no ideas how I would do against her, or what style she knows, so we'll have to see. But one thing is for sure… I'm not going to take shit from anyone, not ever again."

. . .

Lunch ended soon enough, and my new (acquaintance? friend?) and I split up and headed off to our respective afternoon classes. Cammy and I had compared schedules, and unfortunately we didn't have a single class in common. That was alright; we could always hang out during lunch or after school. I had high hopes for this development; after Emma, my ability to trust others had been all but shattered, but being flooded with a small fraction of the combined knowledge of mankind, as well as having all areas of my intellect turned up to insane levels had improved my sense of perspective. Sure, Emma was a piece of shit human being, but my new knowledge and brainpower told me that most people actually weren't, surprisingly.

According to the information swimming through my head, the majority of people based their decisions in life on whether performing a given action would help them or hurt them, and if it was consistent with their morals and self image. Looking back, even though the "old Emma" would have had acted the way she did these days, I could see that she had never possessed a strong moral sense, or a consistent self image. Often times, I would have to act as the moral compass and the voice of reason when she idly considered doing things that would be hurtful to others, or even dangerous. I remember having to talk her out of teasing a boy in grade school because he always wore shabby clothes, and another instance when she wanted to dye her hair black and wear white makeup in middle school because there was a goth boy she liked.

Suddenly the fact that she turned on me started making more sense. Emma was mutable. Before, she had always had me by her side to keep her from making bad choices, but this was no longer the case. In fact, it was the direct opposite; I expected that Sophia was whispering poison into her ear, and that Emma, with her non-existent sense of self-image, had been doing her best to change herself into the track star's pet psychopath in order to impress or emulate her. Sophia must have made a very strong impression on her, when they met...

I had another epiphany; Emma must know that Sophia is a parahuman. Meeting Shadow Stalker, a real live cape, was probably the most impressive thing that the little redhead had ever experienced in her life. I could see it; them meeting in some dramatic manner, and Emma doing everything she could to impress and draw the attention of the psychopath. Of course she would want to "trade up" when it came to friends and role models. When your choice consists of either a nerdy bookworm with an overinflated moral sense, and a edgy superhero who lets you do whatever you want, what choice was there, especially for a girl like Emma? I played back the memory of my first meeting with Sophia Hess, when I went to visit my (at the time) best friend, after returning from Nature camp. Thanks to my mental upgrade, my memories were clearer, but they weren't perfect… That was a power that I hadn't chosen to get.

One main thing stood out in regards to the encounter, now that I understood child psychology and game theory; Sophia had been testing me. She had given me ample opportunity to respond to her strange accusation that I was "weak", and after she pushed me the first time, she had stopped, waiting to see what I would do. I had, of course, looked to Emma, trying to figure out why this aggressive, pushy bitch was at her house... Why she was letting this bitchy new girl get away with treating her best friend like shit. I had recoiled upon seeing the disappointed look in Emma's eyes, mistaking it for contempt. Now that I knew what to look for, and could read expressions, at least a to a degree, I understood the truth; she had been disappointed that I hadn't fought back, proven that I was strong.

It appeared that Sophia had some kind of Nietzsche-esque obsession with the concept of "strength". Reviewing our past encounters, it was evident that she correlated "strength" with someone's will and ability to inflict harm on others, and conversely, the capability and drive to resist the attacks done to you. Of course someone a pedantic and thuggish as Sophia wouldn't appreciate any of the more understated kinds of "strength". I had soldier on after my mother died, only breaking down in the privacy of my own room, late at night.

The only person who I had ever shared that weakness with was Emma, naively believing that I could trust her with that information. How wrong I had been! I had never really known Emma, I guess… I just had a concept of her, an idea of a person who didn't actually exist. Because that's what she was; the mere idea of a person, only given form when under the influence of others. Thanks to the general knowledge implanted in my head by "Godly Mind", I knew a little bit about a lot of things now, and the revelation of Emma's true character was reminding me of a specific type of parahuman power, now that I thought about it. She was a like a "projection", a type of mental construct given physical form, which some capes could generate. She didn't truly "exist" as a complete person, unless someone imposed their will upon her.

Another type of "strength" that Sophia knew nothing about was strength of character; in any given situation, I always did my best to stick to my morals and do the right thing. One of the myriad reasons I hadn't ever slapped a bitch, and hard, was that I believed that violence was a last resort, which should ideally only ever be used in the true defense of yourself or others. Tripping and shoving was inconvenient, but Sophia had never outright attacked me… if she had, then she would have been treated to the full fury of my ability to physically retaliate. Until this morning, it likely wouldn't have been much, but there would have been no holding me back. I wondered idly what she would have thought of that… but honestly, at this point, I didn't really care.

I was still planning on fucking with her, that's for sure, but now that I knew who she was and had a good idea of what her powers did, she was practically a bug to me. I hadn't purchased the "Shadow Form" power with my points, but the God I'd met had given it to me as a personal gift, along with the "Portals Maker" power. I could only guess at the reasons behind the inscrutable being offering me yet more power, on top of what I had already been given, but there had to be a reason.

I wondered if Sophia Hess had factored into God's gifts in any way, considering the similarities between my "Shadow Form" and her own parahuman ability. I didn't know if Shadow Stalker could go completely invisible like my own version of our shared ability allowed me to, or if her form was also perfectly incorporeal. Probably not. Unlike my own divine gifts, my general knowledge informed me, parahuman powers usually contained some kind of proviso or weakness. This allowed opponents who were knowledgeable or clever to defeat nearly any cape, given time and/or the right equipment or powerset. Cape fights were a strange game of rock, paper scissors, and no one quite knew who would come out on top, or how useful a given power was until it was tested. Even extremely strong capes could sometimes be taken out by seemingly weak ones, due to the various mechanics of superpower interactions.

My powers were conceptual, however, and were not rooted in the physics and the regular rules of the universe, like parahuman powers seemed to be. This, and the sheer amount and diversity of my powers, gave me an advantage against all but the strongest capes. I didn't think Sophia Hess was all that much to worry about, but I still didn't plan to tackle her head-on. I wasn't going to play into her stereotypical "strong/weak" paradigm by beating the tar out of her, unless she forced me to do so. I just planned to make her life a living hell, as she had done to me. Now that I'm acquainted with philosophy, I know that the best revenge is living well, but I've never been very good at backing down from a given task once I've committed to it.

I planned to start my crusade against Ms. Hess by paying her back in kind for some of this shit that she pulled on me last year. Of course, I'm not going to simply ape the same out shit she's been pulling on me all along. I'm going to get… creative. My mother was an creative writing teacher at the local state university, and my father is a dyed in the wool, science fiction and fantasy book reading, paper and pen role-playing game Geek, with a capital "G"; I come by my massive creative streak honestly, though like all of my mental faculties it's been massively enhanced thanks to Godly Mind.

. . .

I smiled, walking out of my last class, into the hallway. Neither one of my primary bullies had returned to school today, giving me carte blanche to begin my campaign of revenge. I walked into the nearest empty girl's room, taking a stall. I made sure that no one was here beforehand, using the bullshit power that is God's Eyes; so far, I had gotten more use out of this power than everything else combined, save for Godly Mind, which was more a part of my being now than a normal superpower. I concentrated on turning invisible and intangible, fighting the urge to use illusions to accomplish the first part. Huh, I didn't know before now that I could use illusion to make things invisible… That could be handy. After a few moments, I felt "Shadow For" kick in, causing me to disappear from sight.

Ghosting through the walls, passing through pipes and electrical and data wiring, I soon emerged from the wall in the hallway where the majority of student lockers were located. I quickly found Sophia's, and stuck my head inside. Thanks to my overpowered eyes, I could see the contents of her locker perfectly. I was still getting the hang of using this new power, though, and my head accidently passed through the back of her locker, giving me a nice view into the hollow wall behind it. 'Hello there!' I thought, spying the rough costume and pair of mini crossbows that I found there. Upon closer inspection, there was also a pair of cheap "burner" cell phones, still in box, and a quiver of hunting arrows.

I goggled at her stupidity, wondering what kind of mental illness she possessed, to leave evidence like this here, where someone might find it. All it would take would be a burst pipe, or some unscheduled maintenance to uncover her secret to the whole world! My stomached dropped out on my when I considered what the broadhead hunting arrows meant… The items in wall behind her locker weren't that dusty, meaning it hadn't been long since Sophia had last handled them. What would a government sanctioned superhero need with ammunition which was almost assuredly lethal? I most definitely did not like the reasons that my mind came up.

In the face of this new development I immediately scrapped all of my plans for petty personal vengeance against Sophia. This was much more important; people's lives were potentially at stake. I would need to contact someone trustworthy in the PRT or the Protectorate to let them know what I had found. By necessity, I would have to hide my identity in such a manner that the government couldn't or wouldn't uncover who I really was; that meant reporting this issue as a cape. Being "moderately learned" in parahuman knowledge included something called the "Unwritten Rules", a set of loose guidelines which many capes, and usually the PRT, chose to mostly abide by. The most serious of these rules was an edict against knowingly uncovering capes' identities. I would use these rules to protect my anonymity.

It would definitely be best to hide the extent of my powers and abilities as much as I could when I introduced myself to the PRT. Also, I definitely shouldn't tell them why I had been looking through Sophia's locker… if they found out that I had a personal vendetta against her, and the means to plant the items in the wall myself, then my credibility would be worthless with them. I would seem like either an attention seeker at best, and just another villain attempting to take out a very effective Ward at worst.

I could have, and really should have just scanned Sophia's locked with my eye powers, before I ever decided to come near it. That should probably be my angle… I could present myself as a "Thinker" type cape, with several useful enhancements to my vision, including seeing through walls. I would need to make up some fake limitation on God's eyes, to make it seem like I couldn't just ID other capes at will, or else they would extremely wary of me. I plumbed the depths of my parahuman knowledge, before coming up with the perfect cover; the so-called "Manton Limit". It was the technical term for the reason parahuman powers usually worked on either the cape's own body, other people's bodies, or only non-living materials. It was thought to be a sort of built-in "safety feature" of some powers, presumably to prevent them from harming the wielder. Looking at it from a logical standpoint, the Manton limit was bullshit, but there was enough evidence to support the theory. Parahumans were really strange.

Thinking over my cape persona, I decided to tell whichever agent or hero that I met with that I was a "grab bag" cape, a rare variety of parahuman that had several powers, usually low level ones, instead of one all-encompassing powerset. My cape knowledge indicated that grab bag capes usually had at least one power associated with "pocket dimensions", or something similar, so I would need to decide if I wanted to reveal my portals maker ability. It's mechanics were such that I could create up to eight ports at a time, and entering any of them would allow someone to emerge from any other. The portals' seemingly arbitrary limit of only allowing organic matter fit in nicely with the "Manton Limit" pap as well, making it look more like a "real" parahuman power. I suddenly wondered if this was why the God had gifted me the abilities to make portals… Was it to make me seem more like a genuine parahuman, rather than a Demigod? Hmm… I would need to mull that over at a later time.

I quickly decided on my "grab bag" powerset. I would include my portal ability in there, but I was planning to massively undersell its potency. I would also give them some of the details on my ocular power, and tell them that I was capable of low level regenerative healing. I might also mention that I had enhanced reflexes and a weak, close-range telekinetic ability, but only if I needed to for some reason, or if I had to use those powers in front of the official. I would probably be considered quite able for a grab bag cape, but not at the same power level of a cape like Myrddin, for instance. The leader of the Chicago Protectorate team was sometimes listed under the "grab bag" classification, as he had several different types of pocket dimension-based powers that he could call upon.

. . .

I chuckled as I covertly exited the school building while still in shadow form. One unexpected sub-power of being intangible and invisible was that I could fly, something that the power's description didn't mention. It didn't take long to discover how to augment the slow shadow flight with my Telekinesis, and soon enough I was streaking through the air, heading toward a nearby shopping center. As I flew, I examined every inch of the terrain I passed by, inside buildings and outside. This was surprisingly easy to do using God's eyes and a small application of Divine speed. I discovered, to my surprise, that my eyes were capable of seeing out to a huge distance... I was able to see several miles away, as I could make out roads and stands of trees which were far outside the city. I was suddenly glad that I had picked God's eyes… I had almost dropped it in favor of gaining a perfect memory.

It didn't take long to accomplish my first goal for the afternoon. I had been busily looking at everything I could with my bullshit eye with the express purpose of finding some money. I had found a few gang stashes, which were always guarded, and peered at the contents of a few personal safes and strongboxes, but that wasn't what I was after; I wanted money that no one would miss. Eventually, I found it. Under about four feet of soil, at the base of a huge oak tree in one of Brockton Bay's city parks, I spied an old duffel bag which contained several bundled stacks of bills. 'Jackpot!' I thought. The bag was starting to decay in spots, and looked thoroughly filthy. It had obviously been in the ground for years. Thankfully, the money was triple wrapped, firstly by the bag, then by a canvas sack, and finally, each bundled stack of bills was encased in cellophane.

The tree was deep in the park, about fifty feet from a remote jogging trail. I didn't want to have to dig it out, so I simply phased in the ground, and attempted to grab the handle. I found out just how bullshit my shadow form power was, when the bag also became incorporeal, allowing me to simply pull it out of the ground, sans dirt. Grinning invisibly like some kind of superpowered lunatic, I flew through the air, looking for someplace quiet where I could relax and take stock of my sack full of filthy lucre in peace.

I returned to my normal state on the top story of an empty building near the docks. The interior was mostly empty, save for a lot of old office desks and chairs. Most of them were piled up against one of the walls, but there were a few scattered here and there. I took a seat in front of a large executive-style desk, and emptied the contents of the bag onto the surface. There were twenty cellophane bundles in the bag, and when I took them apart, I found that each of the packages contained five separate banded stacks of twenty dollar bills. I double and triple counted; there were one hundred stacks of bills in total. The band on each stack was made of plain white paper, and hand written on each of them in black ink was "$2000".

I blinked my eyes, and then blinked them again. On the desk, in front of me, was more money than I could easily conceive of; much more than anyone in my family had ever had before in their lives. I was the proud owner of two hundred thousand dollars... one fifth of a million bucks. It felt both unreal and exciting at the same time, as if I was tingling while floating on air. I had hoped to find a few twenties, or something like that, so that I could buy a burner phone. That was my next stop, in fact. I had never imagined in my wildest imagination that I would stumble upon something like this. I laughed, my voice echoing through the empty building, wondering what I should do with this obscene amount of cash.

For now, I simply decided that I would take it with me. I would figure out the rest later. I was able to cram the stacks into my backpack, which was mostly empty. I had taken a queue from Shadow Stalker and stashed my textbooks under the school's floor, in a disused ventilation duct, which looked like it belonged to a heating and cooling system which was no longer in use. I used my shadow form to fuse the bag and wrapping material into the cement floor of the office building, permanently bonding it to the materials there to dispose of the evidence of my ill gotten gains. For now, I would mostly stick to my plans, though there would be a few modifications to them.

First, I needed to buy a costume. I could make myself look like anything I wanted using the power of illusions, but I didn't know how well that would hold up to cameras and the like, or what would happen if I was knocked unconscious or lost concentration. This meant that my costume didn't need to be flashy, but that I would most assuredly require one. I would forgo buying expensive protective items until I could find out just how durable I was now, and how well my regeneration worked. If I was as invulnerable as I hoped, then simple cloth would hopefully be enough. I would have to make sure that every part of my costume was made of organic materials, due to my portals limitations, so something like cotton or silk would be the order of the day. I should most likely disguise myself with an illusion over a mask when I made my purchases, just in case someone was able to identify what I was doing; prudence was the order of the day when it came to secret identities. Capes and those associated with them might usually play by the unwritten rules, but no one else did.

It was the work of seconds to transform the hideous denim jacket I loathed into a mask which obscured my face and hair. The illusion I layer on top of my actual appearance was that of a slightly larger man, with a similar body type. On top of that, I placed another illusion, this one of a tall, overweight female senior citizen with conservative upper middle class clothing. My disguise as good as I could make it, I went shopping. I popped into "Cells, Cells, and more Cells!" A mobile phone and electronics depot off of the boardwalk. I picked up three super cheap burner phones that each came preloaded with 500 minutes of talk time, or 1000 text message, and a fairly expensive non-contract smartphone with an unlimited talk, text, and data plan that I could pay for by the month using easily purchased refill cards.

It took me a few minutes to fly over to Lord's Market, a different shopping center. Once there, I changed my outermost illusionary disguise again, this time into a working class man who dressed like a dockworker. Due to my dad's profession, I had spent a lot of time around dockworkers, so this illusion was even better than the last. I picked up a large assortment of cotton and silk garments, a few cotton wraps and shawls, and a voluminous silk robe. I also purchased several yards of cotton and silk fabrics in various colors and patterns. When I was done, I was glad for my telekinesis, as I would have been able to carry everything without it. I appeared to carry the shopping bags with my hands, but actually levitated them.

. . .

Finished with the day's errands, I went invisible in an empty alleyway after checking for observers, and only dropped my illusions and unwrapped my face once I was far away from the marketplace. I quickly flew home, phasing through the outer wall of my bedroom to get inside. I used superspeed to hide the money and cellphones, which were all still packaged. It was 4:46 according to my watch, which meant that all of my errands and after school activities combined had only taken an hour and a half. Taking the bus, I usually didn't arrive home until a little after four o'clock, so I had performed all of my tasks extremely quickly. I was beginning to realize just how amazing having these powers actually was.

My dad usually didn't get off of work until five thirty or six, and from there it took him about thirty or forty minutes to drive home from the Dockworkers Union. That meant I had about at least and hour to an hour and a half to work on my costume. I started working on it right away at superspeed, matching together the various articles of clothing with each other to try and find something that looked at least decent. I did the best I could with the limited materials I had, and I'd like to think the results of my super speedy sewing was alright, at least for a starter costume.

I had purchased a few cotton head covers, of the type typically worn by muslim women, the ones with full veils. I started with one of those, in a deep blue, and re-worked it into something that looked like a cross between a burqa head covering and a ninja mask, using some cotton duck in the same color to shape the "mask" portion. I replacing the mesh netting meant to go over the eyes with some extremely thin light-blue cotton, creating a full face mask which completely covered my head.

I had chosen a plain long sleeved tunic in white which went down slightly below my waist, though it was tucked into another garment that had made the final cut. On my lower half was a pair of wide, flowing martial arts pants, which the vendor had called a hakama. These pants were also white, and they were constructed out of thick woven cotton, with reinforced areas on the knees and hips. Over top of it all, I wore a real silk kimono that I had paid far too much for. It was blue, matching the color of my mask, and had had stylized white sakura trees on it, which had off white and light pink leaves. I really liked the kimono, and had paid over a hundred bucks for it, despite the fact that it was used. It was beautiful, and whoever had owned it had taken excellent care of it.

I was finished in less than twenty minutes, though I had to use considerable amount of both super speed and telekinesis. My fine control was getting better; toward the end I had been able to thread a needle and do some fairly nice stitchwork using only my mind and willpower. I put on the costume, the pieces flying through the air and fitting themselves onto my body one at a time. When I was fully decked out, I floated into the bathroom to take a look.

"Woah!" I exclaimed. Somehow, what was supposed to be a crappy starter costume actually looked pretty good! I had seen professional capes with outfits worse than this. I picked up the plunger from beside the toilet, and went back to my bedroom. I had to see if my costume was actually combat worthy, or if it would need more work. I spun through a few lightsaber katas, the plunger cutting through the air with loud whooshes of displaced air. I had been very careful to make sure that my movements wouldn't be restricted when putting everything together, and it had paid off. I could maybe modify the kimono a little bit; there was a little bit of tug when I did some of the more free-flowing arm movements, but it wasn't anything major. I decided that I would just tie it a little more loosely next time.

Finished waving around my disgusting faux-weapon, I put the plunger back where it belonged. I had taken off the white ballroom gloves for this occasion, so I washed my hands to remove the taint of their contact with the toilet unclogging apparatus. I grinned maniacally; I had my first costume! I would be able to go out tonight, and start the ball rolling on my plan to bring Sophia's stupidity to light. Seriously, who brings dangerous weapons into a school? She should really know better than that. And it she actually was using those arrows on people… The protectorate should be able to find that out easily. All they would have to do is look for cases of people with arrow wounds checking into the emergency room… or the city morgue.

I frowned, wondering if she had actually killed someone yet. If she was shooting people with projectiles that were meant for taking down three hundred pound deer, then eventually someone she shot was going to die, no matter how careful she aimed her shots. I grimaced, my mind running the numbers; I crosslinked my knowledge of ballistics, with human anatomy and medicine, getting a very distasteful answer. If Sophia was shooting people with arrows like those once or twice a week, and she had been active as a cape for over a year, then it was very likely she was already a killer, whether she stayed with her victims long enough to know it or not. My determination solidified. If I had anything to say about it, then Sophia Hess was going down.