7/6/2019 EDIT: FOR EVERYONE ALREADY FOLLOWING AS OF JULY 7, 2019, 11:00am, EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME, I'VE MADE MAJOR CHANGES TO THIS CHAPTER AND THE FIRST. THAT'S WHY IT APPEARS TO BE UPDATING. STRONGLY RECOMMEND YOU REREAD.

IF YOU'RE NEW, JUST IGNORE THE PRIOR MESSAGE AND PLEASE ENJOY.

Just a heads up, more dark themes in this chapter as well.

Reviews

Auxiliary Nexus: Yeah, I did take the writing format from Spectrum. But that's mostly just because that's how I write. Anyways, I hope after a few chapters you'll be able to give me your opinion in greater detail.

No Name No Face 369: It's not really a complement to hear you just skimmed my work, but I'll take what I can get.

IcelandicDragon217: Why thank you. I hope this chapter is to your liking as well.

Guests: Spectrum isn't dead. I just need to take some time from it to figure out where I'm going to take it. I had an initial plan for the story, but after taking some time to consider it I realized because of what I've already written it was no longer realistically possible. So I need time to develop a new plan. Once I have it, I'll continue.

DrunkenPanda: I'm glad! Hope you like this one as well.

JanusGodOfPossibilities: Thanks! The only way your comment could have been better is if you said it was over 9,000.

MrCraken: Thanks. I hope you find the second chapter just as good.

Mercva: Thank you. That was my intention.

Interesting but: You're not the only one to have that opinion, and for that I'm sorry. Still, there won't be many scenes like that. It'll all be mostly Taylor.

ShadowCub: That was my intention. What's to keep your curiosity if everything is explained right off the bat?

Daemon-Scribe: I hope you find the second chapter just as 'hooky'.

November11t: First of all, thank you for your in depth opinion and comment. It's really nice to read a review like yours even if it is mostly criticism. I really appreciate it. Now, to respond. Firstly, thank you for reminding me to put the warning. It slipped my mind, and have since corrected that mistake. I'm glad my grammar is good, and I hope it flows well. For your main section, I understand your viewpoint. You're not the only one to hold this opinion. But I still think keeping things chronologically, as in her trigger right after jumping, makes more sense then vice versa. You're also not the only one to think I spent too much time on the Queen Administrator section, and in hindsight maybe you're right. However, the Queen Administrators precense in this story is going to be different from canon. Whereas in canon the QA really was just a backseat passenger, in this story it'll be having a slightly more direct influence, and will be making further appearances. However, there will be no more scenes like what was in the first chapter where it's just the two of them speaking. The QA does have an important role in this story, and as such the portion about its change is relevant and important. I did trim it down a bit to make it more comprehensible. But I don't want to put it into two chapters because that would make them way to short. As a rule, my chapters are almost always a minimum of 5,000 words. Anyways, I really hope you like this chapter and stick around for a while, as I could use more feedback from someone like you.

Pain.

God, it hurt.

It will end soon.

Great.

She'd be dead soon.

I will not let you die.

Why not?

She wasn't worth saving.

You are worth far more then you realize.

No, she really wasn't.

She was nothing special.

You are now.

She didn't matter.

Not to anyone or anything.

You matter to me.

She didn't believe it.

She was pathetic.

You are strong.

Not strong enough.

She couldn't do anything meaningful.

You can do that and more now.

It was pointless.

Nothing would change.

It already has Taylor.

In the past, she had said that the universe hated her.

In truth however, she hadn't really believed that. She really knew she was just one person suffering a lifelong path of extremely back luck. It could have happened to anyone, and probably had more times then she could count. She knew she wasn't special and had it just as bad as plenty of other people around the world.

This was no longer her view point.

She now knew, for a fact, the universe sincerely held an irrational amount of hatred for her, and wanted nothing more then to see her suffer.

This understanding came to her when she woke up in a dirty, dark alley.

Her first thoughts had been of confusion, as she wondered where she was. Then came the fear, anger, and sorrow as she recalled the last twenty-four hours of her life. The fact that she had actually woken up wasn't something she'd been expecting, but understood what it meant. Tears streamed down her face and she wanted to scream.

Of course. Of course she would survive the fall. Why would she die instantly? That would have been too easy.

She laid there, wallowing in her misery as she fought the urge to lash out. Something that she knew would most certainly hurt.

She forced herself calm, knowing only two options remained to her in her current state. The first was to suffer a long, drawn out, and undeniably painful death, or to be found by someone and rescued.

She honestly didn't know which to prefer.

Regardless of her preference, she knew it didn't matter. All that she could do was remain still and prepare for the pain that would eventually come when the adrenaline wore off. She didn't even consider trying to move, as she knew that would only make things far worse for her. She wanted to stay as pain free as she could for as long as possible.

But then time began to pass. First a minute. Then five. Nothing changed. She remained there, lying silently and alone in a dirty, dark alley, feeling the exact same.

She'd expected pain by now. She figured it would start lightly, and gradually increase as the adrenaline left her system. But no. Even after what she thought was ten minutes she felt no different.

Eventually, she forced herself to move. Nothing large at first, just a twitch of the fingers. This grew into a flex of the hand, then the arm, until it led to her pushing herself to her feet and looking herself over.

"This can't be possible." She thought to herself.

She wasn't even scratched.

Her hands, arms, chest, and legs, despite being dirty from lying on the alley, were completely fine. She wasn't even sore. There was no stiffness in her limbs, no broken bones, and not a flaw on her skin.

She had fallen what was at least six stories. She'd been expecting the fall to kill her. So why wasn't she even injured? Hell, even her clothes were fine!

She stepped forwards, not knowing why or where she planned to go, but stopped as she heard a crunch. Looking down, she saw her glasses. What was left of them anyways. She'd stepped on one of the lenses, easily breaking the glass.

Leaning down, she grabbed her glasses with a shaky hand. She held them up to her face with nothing more then the moonlight to illuminate them. She didn't even process the fact that it was now late enough for the moon to be out.

The right side had been broken completely when her weight had fallen on it. The lens was shattered on the ground and the frame was crumpled beyond repair. But the left side? Completely fine. The fall hadn't damaged it whatsoever.

But how? Why? What was going on?

She stood, rooted in the same place for who knew how long. Her mind tried to piece things together using information that didn't make any sense, resulting in nothing more then frustration and an urge to scream until her lungs burned.

It was somewhere down in the deep pit of emotions and thought that her eyes suddenly noticed something. Well, two somethings. The first was that her glasses, which would have normally looked blurry, were crystal clear. Somehow her eyesight had improved. This would probably have been significant to her, had it not been overshadowed by the other thing she noticed.

There, in the reflection of the one remaining lens on her glasses, she noticed a face, illuminated in moonlight, staring back at her. It wasn't hers. It couldn't have been. She had brown eyes, like her mother. She didn't have glowing silver eyes. She didn't glow with a soft silver outline covering her skin and clothes either.

But she continued to stare at the face in the reflection, realization dawned upon her. She recognized the face. The pair of large eyes, the dark curly hair, and the wide, thin-lipped and expressive mouth were all too familiar. She hated it. She hated how she looked. She'd always thought she was ugly.

The face was hers.

If her distraught mind had been like the rippling waves of the ocean before, it was now like the right lens of her glasses, scattered across the ground.

She simply stared at the face. It stared back with an unemotional face despite the tears streaming down its cheeks. Everything seemed to just turn into a haze for a few moments, and she didn't know how long they spent just staring at each other.

The glasses clattered to the ground as they slipped through numb fingers. Fingers that she now realized were glowing a faint silver. Her mind slowly began to piece itself back together, finally comprehending the situation.

She'd survived a fall that should have killed her.

She and her clothes were completely unharmed.

Her eyes had changed from their normal brown colour to a glowing silver.

Her skin and clothes were faintly shining with that same shade of silver.

She wasn't normal. Not anymore.

"No." She whimpered, falling to her knees.

"No, no, no." Her voice cracked with emotion. Why? Why did she have to survive? The fall should have killed her. But it didn't. The reason was obvious. It explained why she survived, and why she now glowed. But it couldn't be true! It couldn't! WHY NOW!? WHY NOT BEFORE!? SHE COULD HAVE DONE THINGS DIFFERENTLY!

Her hands grabbed at her hair, pulling at it tightly as she struggled to not completely break down. She numbly noted that she couldn't feel any pain from the action, despite how strongly she was pulling.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair! NOTHING WAS FAIR!

Her fists tightened and she glanced around, not even knowing what to do. Her anger filled her to the brim until she realized she didn't even know why she was so angry. She lashed out, punching the wall as hard as she could.

Nothing.

Well, technically not true. Her fist remained intact, despite the fact that she'd punched the brick wall hard enough that it probably would have broken bones. She could feel the impact on her skin, the sensation of the rough brick against her skin, but there was no real force. It was like her fist had simply stopped the moment her fist touched the wall. There was nothing meaningful. Not even the sudden tingle, the silver glow around her knuckles, or the sudden rush of warmth meant anything.

With a scream of pure emotion she punched the wall over and over again, ignoring the warm tingling and silver light that came with each attempt. The warmth was almost comforting, it almost calmed her. But all it really served to do was remind her of what had happened.

With a final scream, accompanied by a surge of warmth, Taylor punched the wall again.

A glowing silver fist penetrated through the wall and into the building on the other side. At the same time, the warmth she'd been feeling diminished.

Heavy breaths pumped in and out of her lungs. It wasn't from exertion, she didn't feel tired even after trying to beat up a wall, but rather from emotion. She was sad, angry, confused, and scared.

She pulled her hand from the wall, backing away with eyes locked on the hole she had made. She wasn't worried about anyone being on the other side. The building was just as abandoned as the hotel she now leaned against.

She slid down the wall, too upset to care about the filth on the ground.

She was exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. The attempted suicide, the realization she was still alive, the discovery that she was now a cape had drained her completely.

With a deep exhale she closed her eyes, now emptied of their tears, and leaned her head back against the wall.

Taylor sat there for a long time. It felt like hours to her. It may very well have been, for all she knew. She had no phone nor watch with which to check the time. Not that she cared. She was too lost in her own thoughts to care.

Regret.

That pretty much summed up everything she felt. She regretted so much, and now, at her lowest moment in her life, it was all brought to bear at the front of her mind.

She regretted not doing more to fight back against her bullies, for just taking it all. Had she actually succeeded in her suicide, it meant they would have won. She didn't care before, but regretted it now.

She regretted jumping. Trying to kill herself. Now that she had done it, and survived unharmed, she felt nothing but regret for her actions. There had been a brief moment, where she'd felt happy and accomplishment. But as she raced towards the ground, it was dashed by feelings very similar to the helplessness and depression she felt before she jumped. Death would have solved her problems, she knew that. But she wished she'd tried to find a different solution first. Death was the easy way out. The cowards way.

Most of all, she regretted how thoroughly she'd disconnected herself from her father. Aside from a few conversations at dinner and during the weekend, they'd had little interaction with one another. After her mother had died, their relationship had all but shriveled up and died. She wished she'd done things differently. She wished she'd tried to repair what had been lost between them.

Her fists clenched. She pressed them into her eyes, struggling to remain composed.

She would've given anything, anything, to talk to her father just one last time. Just to tell him that she loved him, and that while she was angry at him for shutting down on her after mom died, she understood why. She wanted to apologize for doing the same, and not trying harder to reconnect with him. She wanted to say she was sorry for lying to him every time she said "good" after he asked how her day at school had been. She just wanted to hug him, and hear him tell her he loved her, and that everything would be alright. Just one last time.

A strangled sob escaped her. Tears formed in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered into the air, but no one was around to hear her. Least of all her father.

She knew she needed to get up. She needed to get better. She needed to make all his effort to care for her mean something. She refused to let it all be for nothing anymore.

Galvanized by her thoughts, she got to her feet, growling angrily at herself for giving up so easily, both now and in the past. Her father wouldn't have wanted her to stay there, sitting in a dirty ally forever. She felt the need to act. To do something.

Taylor breathed deeply and wiped away her tears. She rubbed her eyes with her index finger and thumb, but pulling away she noticed the silver glow encompassing her hand.

Taylor stopped for a moment, thinking.

She had powers. Actual powers! She remembered her time as a little girl, when all she'd wanted to be was a hero. She remembered tieing a blanket around her neck and running around her house, pretending to be Alexandria, much to the amusement of her parents. She remembered talking with Emma constantly about who their favorite hero was, and what powers they would've wanted if they were capes. Emma had always picked Legend, citing him as handsome. Taylor always picked her favorite, Alexandria, considered one of the best heroes and one of the most powerful capes in the world.

She glanced down at her hands again, still glowing a light silver.

She had powers!

Taylor felt almost giddy as she began to inspect herself.

The silver coating covered her hands and her clothes, almost like a coating or a second set of skin. She couldn't actually feel it. There was no sensation of something covering her skin, and when she tried to touch it, normal skin was all she felt.

She looked at the wall, where she'd punched a hole in the wall. The first few punches hadn't been anything significant, other then the fact that she'd felt no pain and felt warmer with each punch. Her last punch though, she'd felt a sudden surge of warmth, and her fist had glowed.

The new cape shut her eyes, trying to focus on that warmth. With each strike she'd felt it. She knew she could feel it again.

It only took a moment for her to find it. It was like a bonfire burning in her chest, a constant warmth that had the capability to spread to her entire body. It was comforting, somehow.

Taylor focused more on the warmth, trying to touch it somehow, to coax it out like she had before.

Like a dog eager to please its master, the warmth responded quickly. The entire store of it exited her chest, leaving it feeling hollow, empty, and slightly uncomfortable. The warmth instantly spread out to warm her entire body. She opened her eyes, seeing that the silver coating around her had enriched, the silver becoming more vibrant.

She turned herself around, looking over herself. Nothing else had changed physically, but she did feel more... Powerful. Stronger. Like she could take on the world. She couldn't stop a small smile at the sensation.

Taylor then tried absorbing the warmth back into her. It worked just as well, pulling every bit of the silver warmth from around her body back into her chest. The warm feeling on her skin left her, along with the silver glow. It was with the disappearance of the silver glow that she realized she'd been unconsciously allowing a small amount of the warmth to leak from her chest and around her body. She made a mental note to keep a tighter lease on it. The thought of spontaneously glowing while she walked down the street was not an appealing one.

Deciding to experiment further, she called the warmth back out, and the silver glow returned. She turned to face the wall, steadying herself. Taking a breath, she punched it.

There was no hole. No damage at all, actually. But maybe that was because now she didn't want to crush her hand and subconsciously slowed her fist before impact. She did, however, note that the empty void in her chest was suddenly filled with a small amount of warmth.

Since there was no pain, Taylor decided to take a risk, closed her eyes to stop the automatic and instinctual urge to slow her hand, and punched the wall as hard as she could.

Still no pain, and still no hole. But another, larger increase in warmth in her chest.

Taylor frowned, letting the warmth coating her body seep back into her chest again, eliminating her silver glow. She stared down at her fist, knowing that there had to be something more to it. More then just spreading the warmth everywhere. So she focused on the single sudden increase in warmth rather then the whole store.

She found that she was able to take that small addition, collect it separately from the rest of the warmth, and after a few more moments of experimentation, realized she could channel it specifically around her body, rather then just spreading it everywhere.

She smiled, channeling the warmth into her fist, making it glow slightly brighter then the rest. She reared her arm back and punched the wall again.

There was still no damage to the brick wall, but this time there wasn't a shift in warmth either. No increase nor decrease.

Puzzled, Taylor took two piece of warmth and punched the wall again. This time, the stockpile of warmth in her chest decreased a similar amount as what she'd gained from one punch.

She hummed curiously to herself, repeating the experiment twice more with three and four bursts. She lost two and three punches worth of energy respectively, decreasing the main store each time. She began to realize how it was working.

Each 'unwarmed' punch added to the warmth. Punching with one punch worth of warmth gained her one punch worth, but also used up one punch worth, thereby canceling each other out. But taking more then one punch worth of warmth meant that she was using up more warmth then she gained, decreasing the store.

She reared her fist back once more, this time taking half the warmth she had in total and channeled it into her fist.

Like before, her fist went clean through the wall.

Taylor was by no means stupid, despite what her grades at Winslow might've said. It seemed like she had some sort of damage absorption powers. With every hit she took, it added to the internal store of 'warmth' in her body. She could then utilize that warmth and use it to transfer the damage she received from more then one source onto something else.

… At least, she thought that was her power. If it was, that was awesome. The significance of the fact that she was living in a town which was considered the cape capital of the USA, one with seriously heavy hitters, and she potentially had a damage absorbing power wasn't lost on her. She had the potential to go head to head with someone like Hookwolf. Hell, maybe even Lung!

Of course, this was all speculation. She knew she needed more time to experiment and determine the exact specifications of her power. She certainly wouldn't go jumping off any more buildings any time soon.

Taylor couldn't help but smile at the sight, the fact that she had powers, real powers, finally settling in.

Then she remembered what led her to gaining her powers, and her mood instantly dampened.

She swallowed hard. Her arm came up to her face, pressing against her mouth to keep the sobs back.

It wasn't worth it. The cost of her powers would never be worth it.

"Dad." She whispered. "I miss you." It may have only been a few hours since she'd seen him that morning, but it had been so much longer since she'd seen the actual him, back before mom had died. Back then, he'd been happy and fun, with a great sense of humor. That had all died with his wife, leaving just a shell of his former self.

She hadn't been much better though, becoming all but dead to the world. It had been the first time she'd felt such grief, and didn't know how to cope other then shutting down. Even after recovering, so many of the things she'd once loved doing she no longer found joy in. Drawing, building crafts, even playing her mother's flute, all had seemed dull and unfulfilling to her.

With both of them barely held together, neither had tried to fix things, leaving their relationship a barely maintained bond based on the fact that they only had each other left. She just wished they'd taken more comfort from each other in that fact then they actually had. Especially now that it was too late.

She swallowed her sobs, instead letting out a labored breath. What mattered now was that she had powers. A strong one as well. She now had the potential to make an honest to god difference in the city. She could help people. She could be useful. She could actually be important. She could be someone other then weak, wimpy Taylor. She-

Her thoughts, as focused as they were, weren't enough to keep her from hearing a sudden explosion, and seeing a fireball erupt in the distance, bathing the sky and the rooftops around it with orange light.

She simply stared at the dissipating fireball for the first few seconds. Her first instinct was to avoid it. But then she remembered, she had powers. Maybe she could help. Besides, she was also curious. Her feelings hadn't stopped her ability to feel curiosity.

Taylor sighed. "Fuck it." She decided to investigate, running out of the ally in the direction of the fireball.

Taylor soon found herself at the epicenter. It was immediately apparent to her that whatever had happened, it happened at what was once an office building of some sort. She crossed the street across from the office parking lot, stopping beside what had once been entrance booth, but was now too mangled to ever function as one again. No one was around, of course. There wouldn't be considering how late it had to be.

The place looked like a war zone. There was a massive hole in the front of the decently sized office building, which was on fire. The parking lot and plaza in front of the building was also marked with dozens of craters, some of which were also on fire. She could feel the heat through her clothes, radiating across her skin.

Despite the large storm of confusion and emotions swirling around inside her, it still wasn't enough to smother the surprise she felt at seeing a place with such damage. She'd seen pictures of places that had sustained far worse, courtesy of the Endbringers, but it was the first time she'd seen a place suffer such damage with her own eyes. She began to look around, considering what might have caused the damage.

Once more she was brought out of her thoughts as she saw movement coming from the hole in the building.

What she saw made her want to gasp, scream, cry, and laugh all at the same time.

A mammoth of a man, wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans and a metal dragon mask, with huge muscles and tattoos all over his body, was walking out of the building, dragging with him two objects in each of his hands. The first was a clearly dead dog, mangled and burnt so badly she couldn't even tell what breed it was. In the other, was a girl. Like the dog she also was mangled and burnt, but not to the same degree. Unlike the dog, she appeared to still be alive. It was proven when she saw the girl weakly struggled against her captor.

Her captor.

Taylor's fists clenched and her teeth grinded together in fury as she recognized exactly who it was.

Lung. A powerful villain, crime lord, and most importantly, leader of the fucking ABB.

It took all her willpower to not act. She desperately wanted to lash out. To attack. To hurt the leader of the gang that had taken her father away from her. Her mind told her to despite the obvious danger. But her instincts said otherwise as she took in the appearance of the girl he was carrying. As much as she wanted to hurt him, there was no guarantee of a quick victory... Or a quick death if the girl's appearance was any indication.

She racked her mind for information. She remembered a little about the man. She'd once watched a TV special on Brockton Bay, where they'd talked about how Brockton Bay was the cape capital of the USA. Lung had his own section of the program where they'd discussed nothing but him. From what she could remember, she knew the man was able to turn into a literal dragon, had managed to fight off the Endbringer Leviathan, and was widely considered the most powerful cape in Brockton Bay. But what exactly were his powers?

If she recalled correctly, it was transformation. He could turn into a dragon, and could regenerate crazy amounts of damage. She remembered that much. And based on the area around her, unless the girl he was holding was a pyrokinetic cape that burned herself, he could also breath fire. He could turn into a dragon, so that made sense.

Her thoughts were derailed as he suddenly stopped, dropping the dead dog to the ground and pulling a phone from his pocket. He held it up, his face and emotions hidden by the mask he was wearing, remaining silent as whoever was on the other side spoke. A moment later, he hung up, pocketing the phone and taking off at a steady pace to the opposite side of the parking lot from her, past the burning office building and towards the ocean.

Taylor watched him, the beginnings of an idea forming in her head.

She took a deep breath, knowing full well how stupid it was. Nonetheless, for all her caution, she still found herself desperately curious to know what he was doing. Who was the girl? Why had Lung attacked her? What was he planning to do with her?

Would he kill her?

Logic suggested that he probably would, if the wounds didn't first. A person didn't do that kind of damage to someone if they were concerned about their wellbeing.

Part of her said she had to follow him. Maybe she could do something to save the girl's life, as unlikely as it was.

But as Lung walked off, the other part of her forced her eyes past Lung and to the damage all around her.

The man was a literal beast, killing anyone and destroying anything he wanted. When he'd first come to Brockton bay, the first thing he did was beat the entire protectorate cape team stationed there. If they had been incapable of beating Lung in combat, then what chance did she have at saving the girl?

She looked back at Lung.

But if she ignored the situation, and Lung did kill the girl, and she could've done something to prevent it, the girl's blood would be on her hands.

She let out another deep breath as she made her decision.

If she was going to die someday, then dying to save another's life was a good way to do it, she supposed. At least maybe then her death would mean something.

As quietly as she could, she walked around the booth and followed after Lung.

Eventually, after just a few minutes, Lung arrived at the old ferry station.

It had once been a popular tourist attraction, raking in plenty of money for the city before she'd been born. But then with the arrival of Leviathan and the subsequent birth of the boat graveyard, funds dried up and the station shut down. It was clearly suffering the signs of neglect from its years of disuse. The paint was worn down, windows were boarded up, and even the large parking lot had weeds growing from it.

Speaking of the parking lot, she saw the reason Lung had decided to come in it. There was a group of six people, five of which were clearly ABB members based off their traditional clothes and tattoos and the fact that they were all holding assault rifles. The sixth was a girl in a black suit sitting cross-legged on the ground.

Peering from the dark alley around the building she was hiding behind, she stared at the group of people Lung was currently walking towards. They weren't that far away, only about fifteen meters or so. Plenty close enough for Taylor to take in the appearance of the girl.

She immediately noticed how much better her condition was compared to the first girl. Her only obvious injuries consisted of a cut over her right eye, which leaked blood down her face over her eye, and a gunshot wound to the shoulder. The girl was blonde, and her eyes were bright green. She wore a purple skintight suit with black markings, and had a stylized T on the front. Her appearance screamed cape, though she had no idea who. She'd never heard of nor seen the girl before. On her hip was a empty handgun holster, which even if it wasn't empty would've been difficult for her to use with both hands taped together. She also had a strip of tape across her mouth.

Lung unceremoniously dumped the first girl on the ground next to the bound cape. Both she and Taylor could now take a good look at her injuries. Being so much closer, she was able to see in detail what the girl looked like. She had to fight not to throw up.

She had a squarish, blunt-featured face with thick eyebrows, the left of which had been burned away along with the eye itself. Her auburn hair was mostly left alone, aside from some parts being singed. Her right arm was bent unnaturally, clearly wore a heavy black jacket with a hood, heavy boots, and grey jeans. Her clothing had suffered substantial fire damage, revealing skin that was at some points just dark red, but more often then not was just blackened and charred. At some points it looked as though her clothes had actually melted into her skin. The left side of her body seemed to have taken the majority of the damage.

Taylor put a hand over her mouth and ducked back, breathing slowly through her nose as she considered what she could do. There was no way to get the girl away from Lung. Not with him being so close. Calling the PRT was obviously the best choice, but she didn't have a phone. And by the time they arrived, the girl might already be dead.

She observed the girl again, as much as it hurt to do so. Despite the damage and the undoubtable pain she was suffering from her injuries, she somehow found the strength to shoot a constant hate filled glare at Lung with her one remaining eye. She looked like she wanted to say something, but when she opened her mouth only wet coughs came out.

Lung seemingly didn't notice or simply didn't care for the girls actions. Instead crossing his arms he stood there silently, as though waiting for something.

The blonde cape's first reaction to seeing the state of the first girl was that of horror as she saw the damage done to the girl. The next reaction was surprising to Taylor. Rather then fear or apprehension appearing in her eyes, it was instead filled with what was clearly anger, yet also consideration. She glared at Lung with furious eyes, ones that also seemed to inspect and observe every aspect of the man with an almost unnatural level of scrutiny. The consideration on her face, accompanied by the fast movements of her eyes as they roamed over every detail of the man wasn't something she'd expected from the girl considering her situation.

"Definitely a cape." She thought to herself.

"Where are the other three?" Lung suddenly asked, his heavily accented voice as intimidating as his appearance. It was unsurprisingly deep, gravely, and commanding.

The gangsters seemed to think the same, as they all minutely flinched.

"Oni Lee is going after them now boss, along with the rest of the men. He managed to kill the dog thing she was riding on, but the other one got away with the two guys on it. We lost the girl to, but I'm sure Lee will get them soon." One of the men answered.

Lung merely hummed in consideration, turning his attention down to the blonde girl. He stared at her for a moment, something which she copied, before he reached forwards and roughly tore the tape from the girl's face.

The girl winced and hissed, but otherwise gave no reaction, continuing to glare at Lung.

The dragon man ignored it, crossing his arms and staring the girl down. "Where do your friends flee to?" He questioned.

The girl scoffed. "How am I supposed to know? I'm here, aren't I?" She answered, her face impassive despite the glare.

Taylor had to stifle her gasp as Lung suddenly backhanded the girl with an audible smack. Her face jerked to the side with the force of the hit, but quickly returned to continue her glare, a growing red welt on her cheek.

"Where is the money you stole from me?"

She shrugged impassively, as though she hadn't just been smacked. "Spent it all already. Sorry."

Lungs eyes narrowed. Another hit. Another welt. Another glare.

"Do you believe this to be some sort of game?" He questioned.

The girl shrugged again. "Pretty much, yeah. We all play the same game of cops and robbers, don't we?" She asked with a cheeky smile and an impudent tone.

In a split second, he had reached and grabbed the girl's bicep, hard.

The girl gasped, whimpering slightly as Lung roughly lifted her to and off her feet, suspended by nothing but his grip. Even from her alley, she could see how tightly he was gripping her.

"You will tell me everything I want to know, or you will suffer. Do you understand me?" He questioned. Whether it was from the pain or simply stubbornness, she didn't answer.

Then the screaming started.

Taylor's hands wrapped over her mouth to stop her own scream from escaping. Lung had ignited his hand in flames, burning away the cloth and flesh covering her arm. She backed into the alley, pressing her back against the wall and covering her ears, unable to watch and listen.

It didn't help.

She still heard Lung's booming voice even with her ears covered. "Did you truly think that I would allow your actions to go unpunished?"

Taylor slid down the wall and curled in on herself as the volume of the screams increased.

"Until your friends are found, I will make you suffer in their place!"

She ground shook with a meaty smack, accompanied by more screams of pure agony.

She pressed her face to her knees.

"Oh god, what should I do?" She practically cried into her head. "Think Taylor, Think!"

She couldn't call the police, they were useless in this situation. She couldn't call the Protectorate, they'd never arrive in time. She couldn't cause a distraction, it would only be a temporary solution. She couldn't fight back, she was just-

"... Just Taylor," she had been about to think.

Except...

She wasn't. Not anymore.

She wasn't just Taylor anymore.

Warm.

She felt warm.

The Cape could could feel it in her chest. It had always been there, she'd felt it, but now she could really feel it. It felt familiar. It churned and swirled unnaturally within her. It longed to escape-No. Not to escape. To be used. To be adapted and changed into a form she could use.

The warmth expanded, spreading out as a silver aura coating her skin. She glowed with silver warmth.

Another scream.

Taylor clenched her fists, rising to her feet. How dare he.

How dare he.

Lung had no right to decide who lived and who died. Who suffered and who did not.

He didn't get to decide that the girl should suffer and die.

He didn't get to decide that her father should have died.

He didn't get to decide that she should suffer as an orphan.

Her heart throbbed and her lungs burned.

Lung was the cause. He was at fault.

He was the cause of her suffering.

And she would make him pay.

She snapped.

She didn't remember rushing from her hiding place. She didn't remember if she stopped for even a moment to consider how undeniably stupid her plan was.

She did, however, remember the sight and sensation of Lungs metal dragon mask crumpling like paper beneath her silver fist.

She relished the moment her fist smashed into Lung's face with a satisfying crunch and the sight of him going flying.

Immediately following the impact, the warmth in her chest dulled. She'd used so much of it to hit Lung it was almost entirely extinguished. Down from a burning inferno to a warm blaze as the silver glow around her faded. There was no time to consider the significance of this though, as she finally realized just what she'd done, and where she was.

She'd just punched Lung, Lung of all people, in the face and sent him flying meters away to the ground.

She was in the middle of a lot with ABB members holding rifles.

She was the only thing standing between two injured girls and a rapidly regenerating, angry dragon and five men loyal to said dragon wielding assault rifles.

"Fuck."

A/N: There's much more to Taylor's power then what has been shown, so don't go predicting the future just yet. There's plenty more to come.

Anyways, please review and let me know what you think, and as always, I'll see you next time.

EDIT: HUGE shoutout to Noneofit for helping me out with this chapter. I knew something was wrong with it and he helped me find out exactly what and fix it.