Disclaimer: Worm isn't mine (seriously, there's no way I could ever write something that complex and awesome.), it and all characters belong to Wildbow.
Author's note: This is my first published fanfiction, reviews/comments/critiques/combinations of such are very much welcome!
A banquet.
Costumed people and reporters line long tables, smiling and laughing. A banner stretched across the room pronounces "The Endbringers Are Defeated!" in bright, block letters.
There is a weary sadness on the face of many a cape, reflections of a loved one lost, a hard battle fought, too many nights of sleep missed, but overwhelming is the joy of peace at long last.
But the ones we seek are not here.
Swoop out a conveniently open window, glide over a city in the throes of reconstruction. There are docks here, a ferry running supplies and people across the bay. A beautiful lake is ringed by downtown, submerged and crumbled skyscrapers turned island by greenery or built into patios for waterfront cafés. Most buildings have scaffolds, few are fully repaired, but the structures are being rebuilt more beautiful, more green, more efficient than before. A rogue contractor flies an I-beam up a skyscraper, then holds it while the more usual workers weld and bolt into place.
Fly a little further. Here is an old neighbourhood, not far from downtown. A house arranged for a villain, a heroine, an administrator of tactics where brute force doesn't work.
A car pulls up to the curb, a well-known pizza logo on its side. The delivery guy gets out, toting an insulated bag with him as he walks up the walkway to the house. The door swings open just before he reaches it, unseen insects pulling a spun-silk cord. A quiet whistle, and a pair of canines pad amiably around the corner, a call of "Just give it to the dogs." following. Bemused, the teen obligingly gives the unwrapped boxes to the dogs - one of which wags a tail in return - which then carry the pizza boxes back around the corner.
"Thanks!" the voice calls again. The delivery guy jumps as a trio of large dragonflies come down the hallway, each dropping a bill onto the now-empty insulated bag before flying back to whence they came. A little creeped out, he grabs the money and runs back to his car, the door swinging closed behind him.
Backtracking and following the dogs, we find ourselves in a large living room, warmly lit and filled with a sofa and chairs. The pizza is placed carefully on a coffee table, the dogs petted and praised by a tough-looking girl.
We've found the people we were looking for. Taylor sits on the couch, idly spider-weaving the beginnings of something on a table behind her while watching tv and reaching for the pizza; Rachel next, sitting on the couch as well, one arm thrown carelessly over Taylor's shoulders and the other on Bastard's head, the young wolf sitting at her feet. Lisa reclines on a lounge, nursing a headache from their last battle; Aisha pops into awareness, grabbing a piece of pizza before roosting on the back of Brian's chair; Brian, solemn, watches the news. A rattling comes through a door, followed by Danny, Taylor's father, with a tray of tea and coffee, which he sets down before seating himself in an armchair.
They should be at that feast, really: the teens played a large part in the Endbringers' fall, but even with the hero/villain boundaries broken down as they are it's not really their scene. Too much media, too many old grudges. And besides, Taylor hates crowds.
There is still much to be done.
But from the bottom of the hill... There is nowhere to go but up.