She stared, her eyes unblinking, as the first person she fell for sneered at her.
"You're nothing to me," Emma continued, "You're just a weak, sniffling girl that's been wasting my precious time all these years. Go away, I don't want to see your face anymore."
Tears began to fall down her face, her mind refusing to believe what she just heard.
"Oh, look! She's crying," Emma said in a sing-song voice, "So, what are you going to do now? Are you going to cry again for a week? Just like when your mom died? How pathetic."
No, the person in front of her did not just say that. It was the most painful memory she ever had. It was something they both swore never to speak of again. For Emma to say that, to be reminded that she had lost someone precious in her life, not just out loud but also in front of another girl she hasn't met before, was an ultimate betrayal of trust.
"Yeah, Emma, go tell her," the new girl smirked.
She turned away, letting everything that just happened to her sink in. It wasn't even two steps yet when she tripped and found her face painfully pressed down on the stone path.
"Weak," the new girl laughed, "just like prey. You don't deserve to be in her sight, prey."
A moment later, she could hear Emma laughing as well. Forcing herself up, she looked back at the one girl she cared with all her heart, who now had her arms wrapped around the new girl's shoulder. It was easy to imagine how she looked to them: tall and stick-thin, the front of her shirt stained with dirt, and her face streaked with tears. Yes, she must look really pathetic.
She limped away, not stopping until she was well out of the neighbourhood, and definitely out of Emma's sight. That was when she allowed herself to fall down to her knees, letting her tears fall. It was painful, and definitely will count as one of the worst memories she'll ever carry for the rest of her life.
It was also proof that something was wrong.
She knew it the moment Emma opened the door. The way her eyes looked, like it was remembering a nightmare she never wanted to recall. She knew the look perfectly well. After all, she saw those very same eyes in front of the mirror, every morning for the last six months. For Emma to have those eyes meant something happened while she was in nature camp. And she was going to figure out what it was, Emma's new behaviour be damned. It was the least she could do for that sweet girl who stood by her side during the most difficult time of her life. The one reason she was able to pick up the broken pieces. To live. To love.
The world can burn for all she cared, as long as she can pay back whoever or whatever was responsible for all this. She loved her so much. That's reason enough.
This she swears with all her soul.
Chapter Two: Those Who Hunt Men
Winslow High School
Brockton Bay
9:30 a.m.
"Hey, Taylor, watcha doin'?"
Emma Barnes sang right behind Taylor, snatching the notebook she's been writing on. Looking up from her desk, she saw her former best friend standing beside Sophia Hess, the girl she seemed to have been traded with. Behind them, right in front of the class, was a petite girl, dressed cutely and sweetly talking to their teacher, was Madison Clements. Together, they were known as Three Queens of Winslow, the virtual idols in popularity, athletics, and beauty. They were practically placed on the pedestal by those that virtually worship their very existence.
They were also known as the Three Bitches of Winslow by those they target in their daily bullying campaign. Incidentally, Taylor ranks pretty high up in their priority list of daily victims.
"Emma, please give the notebook back," Taylor asked, reaching her hand out.
"Make me, weakling," Emma sneered, snapping her hand up, way out of the sitting girl's reach.
"Please, Emma, let's not make a scene," she pleaded.
"Who's making a scene? Am I making a scene?" Emma scoffed as she looked around her.
Taylor noticed that, aside from the trio, everyone else in the room, including that blasted Mr. Gladly, were studiously ignoring what was going in. It seemed like today is another day where she's selected as the victim again. Well, she couldn't exactly blame them. The trio has a very strong standing in school. If you are a student and you want to get popular with the coolest folks, get recruited into your athletics team of choice, or perhaps win a modelling gig with the city magazine, you do what the three tells you to do. And it was to always help in bullying their victim of choice, if not outright ignore anyone that they have been bullying.
Even the teachers were not spared. Somehow, the three bitches got the higher ups' support in what they are doing. The one time that Mr. Gladly, in his usual lame attempt in being 'everyone's teacher', had defended Taylor, he got quickly called into the Principal's office. When he stepped out, he was pale and sweating, and refused to talk to her anymore. Since then, he had been ignoring whatever the Trio's been doing to her.
In the whole school, she could perhaps count in only one hand the number of people who were kind to her. Come to think of it, the last time she checked, she didn't even reach five.
It's a sad fact of her life. Still, that's how the world really works. You take whatever fate's thrown at you the best you can. Roll with the punches, so to speak. And if you fall down, well, all it mattered was that you stand right back up. Stare at adversity straight in the eye, and if it's possible, go ahead and spit on its face, perhaps throw in a punch. But that last point's something for others to do. In Taylor's case, she thought it best to let things be at Winslow. It's better to stay down like this. It wasn't like she needed to be ahead in school, let alone finish it.
If what she was preparing for go the way she expected it to go, she wasn't supposed to live long enough to graduate, anyway.
Still, she needed that notebook.
"Look Emma," Taylor began, "I know you just want to make a mess of my life, but please give it back. It's got notes of what I'm supposed to be doing for work later."
"Oh, Taylor," Emma shook her head in mock sadness, "You should've known better than to let me know what's inside your notebook. I mean, yes, I know you need to work so that you can pay the bills. Is your dad's job still not paying well? That's a surprise. From what my mother's been telling me, the city's been giving the Dock Workers Union a lot of big projects. Maybe you should take a closer look at how your dad spends his money. Are you sure he still thinks you're family? Maybe he's got a different one now and they needed it more than you."
Taylor sighed, tiredly. No use answering that. It's just the way the Trio works whenever they're targeting her, which was every day for the last year and a half.
Madison used her natural cuteness to sweet talk anyone, even the teachers, to do what she wants. Rumor has it, and Taylor had no way of proving it, that the petite brunette even spreads her legs to her targets whenever the situation calls for it. Maybe that's the reason she gets such high grades, or able to pass her assignments on time. Still, no one could deny that the 'adorable' monster does have her charms, and knows how to use it. Like in this case, where she's talking to Mr. Gladly, keeping his attention focused on her.
Sophia, on the other hand, was more of the brawn. When the pranks needed to be physical, like the usual tripping, the jostling by the door, or that locker incident right after winter break, expect Sophia's hand in it. Taylor got lucky that time, since the janitor happened to pass by and almost retched at the putrid smell that reached his nose. The mess was cleaned up quickly, true, but word spread that it was her locker, and that, unbelievably, she was the one responsible. It wasn't true, of course, but it was enough for practically everyone to shun her for the entire week. But she didn't mind it. After all, it was nothing compared to what Emma's been doing.
If there was anyone in this school who has the right ammunition to use against her, it was Emma Barnes. Her best friend practically since childhood, Emma knew a lot of things about Taylor. Things that, when twisted around or used in public as an attack, could hurt her more deeply than a rusted bread knife stabbed straight into her heart.
"So, are you going to cry?" Emma taunted, "Just like when your mom died and you cried for an entire week?"
Just like now. Taylor swallowed, trying very hard not to let the tears out. She refused to give Emma the satisfaction that her words had hurt her again. Not today. There were important things to do after school and she needed those notes for her preparations, damn it!
"Well, I'm not such an evil person as to keep something as important as this from you so long, so here," Emma then handed the notebook to Sophia, "Let my real best friend give it back."
Sophia did that by ripping the notebook in have and scattering the pieces up. Taylor could only watch in silence as another property of hers has been desecrated.
"Have fun with the clean up, Hebert," Sophia smirked, "Isn't that what housekeepers are good at, cleaning things up? It's just like you to be someone's servant. Pathetic."
Seeing as her partners were done, and with the bell ringing to signal the start of class, Madison quickly ended her conversation with Mr. Gladly and returned to her seat. The wimp of a teacher looked at Taylor directly for the first time since the entire scene started.
"Taylor, can you please not scatter your garbage while we're having class?" he simply said, "Your behaviour is unacceptable. Do that again and I will put you in detention."
The Trio began to snicker in their seats. It's just like Mr. Gladly to ignore what they've been doing just stay on the popular side. Honestly, how the hell had he managed to stay as a teacher with an attitude like that?
Taylor sighed – again.
She can hardly wait for the day to end.
Downtown
Brockton Bay
9:50 p.m.
"I knew it, I switched pages," Taylor grumbled, "Should've remembered that tonight's going to be the Barret M82 and Milkor MGL, not the RONI C-G2 and PVS-7. How am I supposed to kill these assholes now?"
She was sitting on top of the highest building in that block, observing the streets below. Due to Sophia messing up her notes earlier, luckily written in cooking recipe-style code only she understood, Taylor ended up carrying a Glock 17, inserted into a RONI C-G2 that turned it into a carbine rifle, with sound suppressor, 31-round extended magazine , and ten extra ones clipped on her tactical vest. Attached to her head harness was the PVS-7 night vision goggle. Dressed up in a full black combat suit with ablative body armor, her face hidden by a balaclava, Taylor looked ready to charge in with guns ablaze for a quick and dirty CQC. Except that wasn't the plan.
Tonight was supposed to be a long-range combat exercise against the Archer's Bridge Merchants, not a zero-illumination tactical strike using night vision. That one was scheduled next week for a different building. At least she got the rest of the pages right. Tomorrow was going to be some KM2000 knife work against Empire 88 thugs harassing some businesses at Lord's Street Market. The week after that, she was supposed to release mustard gas in an underground gambling den of the Azn Bad Boyz that was hidden near the Ship Graveyard. The list of field exercises she had to perform went on and on.
The past eighteen months had been hectic for her, but she needed this. There was no way she's participating without first getting used to being a hunter of men. The first time she consciously planned and killed a man, using her bare hands, she knew she'll never stop. Well, she'll stop - eventually.
It was going to start soon and she knew her death would come right after the conclusion. It's just that her damned conscience made it really difficult for her to kill in cold blood. She had to stop letting her emotions do the killing and later letting remorse get to her, turning her into a whimpering, crying mess.
Her opponents won't have the same problem.
For now, there was an attack to perform, at least thirty men she's expected to kill, probably several bricks of cocaine that she'll be torching tonight, and more than a thousand dollars worth of drug money she was hoping to steal. She needed to save for the future, after all.
"Yay, me," she muttered, "I hate it when something like this happens."
Looking through her rifle's scope, she counted at least five Merchant's standing outside one of the buildings she had identified as part of the gang's chain of stash houses. Previous scouting missions revealed that lot of money and drugs, not weapons, are stored here. What she wasn't sure about was how much exactly was stored. If the cash stored there was too much for her duffel bag, she might have to torch it along with the drugs. Shame if that was the case. At least it meant less for the Merchants then.
The problem here was that she couldn't get in close and personal. There was just too much open space for her to get across unseen. The street directly below her was just an example. It was built as a two-way, three-lane access road for ten-wheeler trucks back when Brockton Bay's seaport was still alive with cargo ships that were using the Bay's natural coastline as a safe passage for goods to reach Northern America. Now, it was virtually deserted. This meant that anyone that decides to cross the street will be practically seen by the Merchant sentries. It was the same problem on either side of the building, while the back had a large, empty yard without anything to serve as cover.
Yeesh, talk about an island fortress.
The plan for tonight was supposedly to use the sniper rifle to kill the guards and destroy the visible armaments outside. For the inside, she was going to launch a generous helping of tear gas grenades through the windows she had shot earlier with said rifle. She was then going to shoot everyone forced to go outside. Well, the plan's shot now. She'll have to wing it.
Damn it, Zelretch won't let her hear the end of it later, that annoying troll.
Taylor was contemplating on the best way to approach the safe house when she noticed a small van approaching. Stopping in front of the Merchant building, the driver stepped out and opened the back door.
Seeing just who were being pushed out the van had Taylor gaping in shock.
It was Sierra Kiley and Charlotte Branch, two of her classmates at Winslow. They also happened to be two of the only four people kind to her. Both appeared to be tightly bound and in a drug-induced haze. Observing the Merchants that were dragging the two inside the building, Taylor could see the lust in their eyes and the growing tent in their pants.
Unbidden, a piece of memory came to the forefront of her mind.
"It was terrible, Taylor," Anne told her, "Dad and Sis don't want to talk about it anymore, but you deserve to know. You're family to us."
She suddenly remembered the two revenue streams the Merchants were known for: production and distribution of illegal drugs within and beyond the city; and the kidnapping and drugging of women to be raped and turned into prostitutes.
She started seeing red.
It was happening again – and right within her sight this time.
No, she's not letting it happen. Not again, never again. She had sworn that one time was the last time. The sweet girl she had loved so dearly as more than a sister was forever gone because of the urges of godless men. And she had made sure Brockton Bay knew how she felt about it. Even now she could still remember how slick the blood of her victims were on her hands, the screams of fear and pain of hundreds as her spear pierced through their mortal bodies, the squelching of brain matter leaving the skull of the one cape that dared attack her from behind, as well as the heat of flames as a dragon tried, and failed, to stop her rampage.
She had lost her Emma, true, but at least the ABB now know the rage of a girl whose broken heart and soul screamed vengeance for a lost love.
There's a reason why La Pucelle d'Orleans was feared in the myths, after all.
This time, for what these Merchants are about to do, they will not meet a mundane end. No, they don't deserve a bullet to the head. They deserve worse than that.
Sophia kept preaching about predators and prey. Well, these men are definitely predators of the worst sort. But what that bitch probably never realized was the one fundamental truth that throws her beliefs right out of the window. It could be boiled down into a maxim taught to her by the man who even now is helping her towards her death:
For every predator that stalks its prey, there is a hunter right behind it.
Yes, these so-called predators from the Merchants may have gotten their grubby hands on Sierra and Charlotte, but they'll never get far, since she's right behind them. And while the current rules were strict on what she can or can't do, Taylor was determined more so. Screw killing these men in cold blood. For what they're about to do, she'll let her rage do the talking.
"By my Right as Administrator of this System," Taylor began, "I Command a new Ritual!"
She raised her left hand, triggering the formation of the summoning circle. A golden card emerged from within, its surface pulsing with light. The image in front showed a woman with golden robes, holding a scale with her left hand and a spear with her right. As she grabbed the card, electric blue veins appeared all over her body, empowering the arcane ceremony that brings forth the power of one residing in the Throne of Heroes.
"Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill!" Taylor intoned,
"Repeat five times, but destroy each when filled.
Let silver and steel be the essence.
Let the Archduke of contracts be the foundation.
Let Death be the price I pay tribute to,
Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall.
Let the four Cardinal Gates close.
Let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom turn.
Heed my words!
I shall be all the good in the world,
I shall defeat all the evil in the world.
My flesh is your catalyst and my soul your power.
In order to gain all Heaven's virtues,
In order to fight All The World's Evil,
Answer my call, O Saint of Orleans!
Install Ruler!"
Tremble, Brockton Bay, for She will make her presence known once more.
Downtown
Brockton Bay
9:59 p.m.
Gallant paused in the middle of his stride, pressing the transmit button on his earpiece, "Please repeat that Console, I didn't hear it completely."
"I said be advised," the voice of their newest Ward buzzed, "Suspected cape fight at the abandoned Sheridan building along East Avenue. Proceed with caution and observe. My drone scanners also detected suspected Shaker/Striker activity in the immediate vicinity."
"Copy that, Gallant out," the boy wearing silver tinkertech armor replied, "Hey, Shockwave, did you also hear what Oculus said?"
"Cape fight, Sheridan, East Ave, caution, observe, yep, I get the picture," a cheerful voice replied, "Let's just take a look. I'm not actually eager for a fight right now. It's Merchant territory."
He looked at his partner for tonight's patrol. Wearing a yellow body suit and golden helmet that hugged her shapely figure well, but did not reveal a single inch of skin or hair, Shockwave was perhaps the next best cape to have joined the Wards. Boasting five solo cape captures, including Hookwolf, who was one of the E88's dreaded heavy bruisers, as well as intelligence that enabled her to assist Kid Win, the new Wards Tinker Oculus, and even Armsmaster in their various Tinker projects, the teenager was expected to be a shoe in as the next leader of the Wards once Aegis graduates from the program.
She was also the crucial buffer they needed in order to deal with Shadow Stalker. The vigilante turned probationary Ward was definitely one of the most difficult people to deal with, even the Protectorate members that occasionally takes her along for patrols complain about her hard headedness and tendency to act on her own. But partner her with Shockwave, and she'll just quietly grumble as she does her assigned tasks to the letter, making it easier to give out orders.
Her power was no joke either, her whole body capable of generating waves of electro-magnetic charges strong enough to heat steel until it melts, just like how she dealt with Hookwolf. There's a reason the PRT assigned a Blaster 9 in their threat ratings for her. There was another threat rating, but it was classified though. Only Emily Piggot, the PRT ENE Director, and Armsmaster, as Protectorate leader and Wards overseer, knew what it was.
Maybe that's the reason Console contacted them? Or this could be another raid by the Undersiders. That's one villain cape group in the city that never failed to escape the Wards or Protectorate's clutches. Just like that bank heist they performed a few weeks back. Now that was an embarrassment. He wasn't built like King Koopa but still ended up being bounced around like one. Good thing his armor absorbed most of the shock.
Gallant shook his head in annoyance and refocused on the current situation.
Together, the two Wards sprinted through the three blocks that separated them from the Sheridan building. Even from afar, they could already tell a serious fight had occurred, the buildings in front being silhouetted by the fires raging near the site, along with various objects that were clearly thrown scattered around them.
"Gallant, better go dark," Shockwave advised, "It's a striker/shaker combo, we're not sure if your armor could handle it. I'll take point."
"Got it," Gallant said, "Console, be advised, I'm activating stealth mode, Shockwave taking point."
"Copy that, Gallant," was Oculus' reply, "Shockwave please update us on progress. I'm doing my best, but my scanners couldn't get anymore readings. Something's keeping my drones from getting any closer. Be careful."
"Copy, Console, Shockwave out."
Gallant took a step back, blinking his eyen in a set pattern to activate one those armor upgrades Armsmaster had installed as response to the humiliation the Wards suffered in the hands of the Undersiders.
Using special nano-cameras that capture his surroundings, his armor then displays said images unto the side of the armor that covered said surroundings from normal view. It allows him to practically fade into the background, with only a very faint outline of him to be seen. Coupled with his now silent servomotors and body heat nullifier, he's now more than capable of performing stealth operations or simply hide in ambush while waiting for villains to come right by him. Honestly, if he had this when he fought the Undersiders, that group, or even just a member of theirs, could have been arrested.
With Shockwave taking the lead, they finally reached the street bordering their destination. Although, given what they were seeing right now, they wished they hadn't gone there.
It was a nightmare. Seven-foot tall flames blazed all over the Merchant building, the charred bodies of what they hoped were only Merchants scattered about. The twisted remains of vehicles and weapons could be found all over the place. Their attention was caught by a flying body that crashed into a building on their left, crumpling to the ground and staining the pavement with his blood. Tracing the trajectory, the two Wards stared at the source, and immediately their faces turn pale.
In the midst of the carnage, skewering the body of another struggling Merchant with an ornate spear that had a familiar pennant attached, was someone they hoped they would never encounter in their lives.
"C-console," Shockwave's voice wavered, "P-please advise, it's the Armored M-maiden. I repeat, it's the Armored Maiden."
There a moment of shocked silence on the radio, until the gruff voice of Armsmaster was heard.
"Withdraw immediately, Wards. I repeat, withdraw immediately. I'm already en route, ETA four minutes."
At that moment, the armored cape looked up, straight into their direction. Gallant swore the stare was directed right at him.
"W-we can't, Armsmaster," he was shaking in fear, "She's looking at us right now."
A moment later.
"And she's approaching us," Shockwave added with a squeak, "P-please advise us, sir."
There was a muffled curse, then Armsmaster's voice came back, "Stay calm, do not make any hostile moves. Let's hope your status as Wards is known to her as well. I'm close, just hold on."
The two Wards nervously watched as the cape that caused them nightmares steadily approached, spear up and pennant fluttering in the air. Never in their entire lives did they imagine this moment to be happening to them.
"It's been almost two years," Shockwave whispered, "What's the reason for her to come back?"
That was a question Gallant would like to know as well.
In Brockton Bay's recent history, no other cape has created as much fear and panic as the one known as the Armored Maiden by the public. She was the stuff of nightmares, especially in the Asian community. And she was also the reason why the ABB is a mere shadow of what it was before.
It all started so suddenly.
One fine Halloween morning back in 2009, PRT emergency hotlines began to ring non-stop, reports coming in of a cape wearing, well, a cape and armor that was attacking multiple warehouses that were identified as being in ABB territory at that time. Not wanting keep things going, for fear that Lung would escalate, Protectorate and PRT forces were deployed in order to intercept said cape. But she moved too fast, leaving only bloody streets, burning buildings and charred corpses behind. It was a sobering experience for the first responders, who had never seen violence in such a scale.
The only way they could tell where the cape was going was based on people running from streets, screaming "Armored Maiden!" in sheer terror, as well the trail of corpses, all ABB gang members, that were left lying around in her wake.
Of course, the feared scenario happened. Lung had rapidly ramped up in size and strength, growing big enough that he sprouted wings. He had also deployed Oni Lee to kill, or trap, whoever it was attacking his territory.
The result? Protectorate forces had a hard time identifying the remains of Oni Lee, whose whole head was crushed into pulp by what Protectorate Thinkers compared to as a bare hand slamming a watermelon hard into concrete – with the force equal to half a ton.
Later on, PRT forces were able to reach a badly injured Lung, who was no longer in his dragon form. He had serious internal injuries, was bleeding heavily and, most worryingly, not regenerating at all. Even Panacea, at the request of Miss Militia later on, had a hard time repairing the damage. It was stated by the healer that whatever it was this new cape did was preventing her powers from working properly.
The closest that anyone managed to get to the new cape was Armsmaster himself, and he requested immediate med-evac a few minutes later, having gotten his armor damaged and losing an arm in the process. And he said the Armored Maiden did all that to him with just one swing. He didn't even see it coming.
Protectorate forces from even as far as New York responded as well, with Legend taking the lead. A kill order was being considered due to the violence, but by then, the Armored Maiden had vanished without a trace.
In the aftermath, the ABB lost three hundred twenty-six of their unpowered members, effectively two-thirds of the group. In addition, all their properties and warehouses in the Dockyard and Ship Graveyard were burned to the ground. With the death of Oni Lee, the only cape left was Lung, who was able to escape while in transit to the Birdcage. The gang had been barely getting by ever since. Only the sheer strength of Lung was what's keeping the other gangs from encroaching into his territory.
It was simply hard to describe it in words. In just one day, a single cape did what the Protectorate and PRT had been unable to do for years. Even until now, people would still fearfully talk about that incident, which was then on called the 'Halloween Hell'. No one really knew who she was. All that was certain was that she was so strong that she can take out Lung. The same Lung who fought Leviathan to a draw.
And that very cape was approaching them right now.
In an attempt to distract himself from such nerve-wracking thoughts, Gallant decided to observe the Armored Maiden's appearance. She wore an indigo dress that was covered by a steel-grey cuirass, gauntlets, and vambrace. Her skirt had a wide slit in front, giving them a view of her toned legs, stockings, greaves, and sabatons. On her waist was a longsword with a black sheathe. Over her shoulders, an indigo cape embroidered with a large cross billowed in the night breeze. It was when Gallant looked at the face did he stare – and stared harder.
Her beauty was, how was he supposed to say it? It was wondrous. It scarcely felt real. Unlike the norm for capes, the Armored Maiden did not wear a mask. Only a metal forehead protector, shaped like an 'm', framed her face and braided long hair. And her eyes, they were like pure amethysts, so pure Gallant felt like he could stare at it forever. This, in the back of his mind, would raise interesting questions come debrief time since he has a girlfriend.
"Oh, God," he thought with growing dread, "Vicky's going to kill me if she finds out."
Another detail he noted was that he could not read her at all. And it wasn't like Vicky's effect either. He could still sense the emotions, but the general feel he got was that of righteousness. No anger, no sadness, no negative emotions at all. Like the Armored Maiden was doing only what it felt was the right thing to do. There was also this feeling of authority, like he's standing in the presence of someone way above his rank. The closest comparison was when he personally witnessed Eidolon drive away The Teeth using his powers.
His thoughts were broken when the Armored Maiden spoke.
"Greetings, Gallant and Shockwave of the Wards. Nice armor, by the way. You would give assassins a run for their money."
With a sigh, Gallant deactivated his camouflage. No point concealing himself then.
"I see you've come for the victims," she added.
"V-victims?" Shockwave stammered, puzzled.
The Armored Maiden pointedly looked at their right. Only then did Gallant notice a pair of young women lying unconscious on the pavement. Shockwave did a double-take and quickly checked their condition, radioing an ambulance at the same time.
"You call yourselves heroes, am I correct? Then I assume you're here for these two poor lasses that had been taken against their will by those cretins."
"Is this the reason why you did all this?" he asked gesturing at the carnage around them.
"When you see a vile act about to be performed by godless men against powerless women, will you let it pass?" the armored cape replied.
"No, of course not," he replied.
"I rest my case then."
"But, this isn't right," Shockwave said, "You didn't have to kill them. I mean, these men have lives of their own. Arresting them would have been better. They deserve their day in court."
"Shockwave…" Gallant hissed in warning.
He knew Shockwave has a strong belief in the justice system, but saying that in front of the cape responsible for crippling a once powerful gang is just inviting a quick trip to the cemetery. The Armored Maiden slowly turned her head and stared at the female Ward, who began to squirm.
"When men refuse to give up their wicked ways, when they insist on continuing their vile acts of terror against innocents who cannot defend themselves, that is the time they forfeit their rights, and their very lives."
The familiar rumble of a tinkertech motorcycle was music to Gallants ears. Out of a street corner appeared Armsmaster in his official vehicle. Seconds later, he had arrived beside them. Alighting, halberd firmly in his cybernetic hand, the premier Tinker of Brockton Bay approached the impromptu tableau.
"Good evening, Armsmaster," the Armored Maiden called out, "Have you finally come to give your reply?"
"Armored Maiden," the Protectorate leader said, "I suggest you give it up now. Your crimes will be met with the full force of the law. And I have the means to carry it out."
"Careful there," she chided him, "while I don't doubt you can hold your own against me now, please take note that you have two Wards with you, not to mention two drugged civilians. I would suggest you think carefully of what you intend to do next."
"Are you taking them hostages?" Armsmaster's grip on his halberd tightened.
"What gave you that idea? Aren't they right beside you? But rest assured, if there will be an escalation of violence right now, it would not come from me. I only wish for one thing."
"And what is that?" he gritted his teeth.
"Your answer to my question, before I left you the last time," she looked at him eagerly, "What is a hero?"
"A hero is someone who upholds the law, who obeys the rules set down by the leaders, who does what is necessary to succeed, without risking lives," Armsmaster stood straighter, "Someone who is definitely not you, given your known actions. Give up this villainy of yours, Armored Maiden, and put yourself under the auspices of the law."
Hearing the reply, the Armored Maiden's shoulders slumped, surprising the two Wards.
"Eighteen months," she muttered, "I give you eighteen months to think it over and you still give me the same answer."
"But isn't that what being a hero really is?" Shockwave asked, Gallant nodding in agreement.
"To think that even the young ones here think the same way," the Armored Maiden shook her head in disbelief, "None of you really do understand what a hero really is."
"And what is your definition of being a hero?" Armsmaster challenged her, "Is it killing anyone you think breaks the law? That's barbarism."
"Maybe, but considering your revolving door policy of capturing and releasing criminals, I think I'm justified. Besides, your idea of punishment is merely a slap to the wrist."
"There are rules to be obeyed, Armored Maiden. The law clearly states that all men have a right to trial and their side be heard. By killing these men, you take away their right to prove their innocence."
"And their attempt to drug and rape these women is not proof enough of their guilt?"
"That's for the courts and the jury to decide. Not you."
"Oh, we're going nowhere with this discussion," she grumbled, "Why do you keep calling me Armored Maiden, anyway?"
"It's the name people here gave you," Shockwave volunteered, "I mean, you never did introduce yourself when, you know, you first went out."
"Did any of you bother asking for my name? I mean, Armsmaster here could have asked before, instead of just hacking me with that toy of his. Sorry about that arm again, by the way."
"It's not a toy!" Armsmaster roared.
"Sorry, I say it the way I see it," she shrugged, "You had to admit that toy of yours couldn't even graze my armor."
Gallant, determined to keep the discussion from breaking down, quickly intervened.
"May we know how you wish to call yourself then, milady?" he asked politely.
"My, my, such a gentleman! It's rare to see such men these days," the Armored Maiden planted her spear into the pavement and curtsied, "You may call me Ruler. It is the name I go by now."
"Well, Ruler, are you going to give up?"
"Not really," Ruler replied, pulling her spear up, "I have things to do, places to go. Storm's coming soon, by the way. I suggest you brace yourselves."
"Stop!"
Armsmaster launched a grappling line at the now-named Ruler but the other cape had faded away in motes of blue light.
"Next time, Armsmaster," her voice could be heard in the air, "I expect you to give me the right answer. You just have to think about it some more."
The Rig
Brockton Bay
10:45 p.m.
It was a somber pair of teenagers that entered the Wards common room. Armsmaster had already taken their verbal reports, secured the two civilians into the ambulance to be taken to Brockton General, and were now preparing to wind down for the night. The Protectorate leader had thought it prudent to cut their patrol short, considering just who they just met earlier.
After bidding Gallant good-bye, Shockwave headed to her room to change into civilian wear. Even now, she could still feel her body shaking from all the stress. It was a close one, truth to be told. She only realized just how close she was from getting skewered herself once she and Gallant gave their reports. Sleep would definitely not be easy for her tonight. Changing her mind, she decided not to take off her costume and find some distraction instead.
Walking back into the common room, she was greeted with by Shadow Stalker. No, she's removed her mask and hood, so it's her civilian name this time.
"Hey, Sophia!"
"Hey, survivor," Sophia Hess greeted back, "Heard you got a front row seat at the Armored Maiden's return. How was it?"
"Terrifying," Shockwave sighed, "And that's something I don't want to go through again. She's so different from what the books tell about her. And she calls herself Ruler now."
"Presuming much?" the dark Ward snickered, "Well, if that's how she wants to call herself, then who are we to question it?'
"True. Anyway, I'm looking for Oculus, where's she?"
"Cutie's back in her workshop, you know how she is. Looked really pissed with her drones being stopped or something. Want me to tag along? Reports could be done later."
"No, finish your report first. You got a bad habit of forgetting it."
A sigh, "fine, I'll do it. See you tomorrow then, survivor."
"See you, too. Bye."
Shockwave left the common room and headed straight to Oculus workshop. While walking, she remembered how scared Oculus was the first time she and Sophia discovered that she was a Tinker a few months back. Seeing that look of fear in her face, yet there was a fierceness in it that promised retribution if her safety was compromised. That she would fight back with all she's got. It was something she respected deeply. That was a mark of being strong - of being a survivor It also brought a little sting in her heart as she was reminded of someone else that should have had the same expression.
"Why can't she just fight us back?" she thought to herself, "I know she has it in her."
She must have been thinking for a while, since she suddenly found herself staring at the locked door of Oculus' workshop. Keying in her access code, she entered, and saw the young Tinker buried up to her arms in the guts of one her scanner drones. She was still in her pilot jumpsuit costume, but her helmet and scarf was placed on another table, with only her sky-blue pins securing her shoulder-length brown hair.
"How are you feeling?" Madison Clements looked up as her visitor sat on a bench, "I couldn't get anything with my blasted drones being stopped by something."
Shockwave sat on a bench and removed her helmet, shaking out her red hair, matted from sweat.
"Like I was in a fucking nightmare," Emma Barnes replied with a sigh, "She's definitely someone I don't want to piss off."
Basement Gym
A Certain Mansion By The Hill
10:40 p.m.
Taylor bent over the bathroom sink, coughing out more blood. She watched as the red liquid trickled down the drain. Groaning in pain, she sat down to the floor, resting her aching back on the bath tub.
Tonight was a mess. Sure, she got rid of the Merchants, destroyed their drugs, and rescued Sierra and Charlotte. It's just too bad that the money was destroyed along, but at least the gang doesn't have it now.
She was also peeved that the Wards and Protectorate got to her quickly. She blamed it on those two Merchants that were so high they wouldn't stop attacking her. Even after she's dealt them killing blows. That's drugs and its effects on the human body, then.
Sighing, Taylor tried to stand up, only to crash down, her body in great pain. She cursed the restrictions placed on her.
Rule Number 1: You may Include only when another Holder is close, and Install only when you are engaged in the Duel.
It was so hard to do anything effective. In hindsight, she should have just used Ruler in Include state. That would have kept things from being so 'showy', but there remained the problem of being exposed. Her initial clothing will not survive the kind of combat Ruler's weapons tend to create. Besides, whether using Include or Install states, she'd still go through the same side-effect.
In order to activate Ruler even without another Holder nearby, she used her Command Seal to initiate the Install ritual. As the Class Card System's Administrator, the Holy Grail did grant her this privilege. While this gave her a lot of power, the price was for her to suffer a backlash. Using a Heroic Spirit's power without the protective framework the Holy Grail War provides causes rapid degradation of her body. This was just the second time she used the Command Seal, but Taylor could swear that her condition was much worse.
"You used your Command Seal again," a voice from the bathroom doorway spoke.
Taylor looked up with blood-shot eyes at Zelretch, who was looking at her with concern.
"I had to," she weakly replied, and then coughed again, "I can't let it happen. Not again. Sierra and Charlotte don't deserve such fate."
A moment of silence, then a sigh, "Was it worth it?"
Looking back, seeing as how emergency personnel quickly attended to the two girls, and overhearing them assuring the Wards that they would be okay, a small smile formed in Taylor's lips. What made it even better was that she felt no remorse. Not anymore.
"Yes," she said, "It's definitely worth it."
AN: I'm putting below my version of stats for Ruler. In case some of you complain that I made her too strong, I'm also adding three more stats that will add greater dimensions to why Taylor may or may not use Ruler in a fight. For those who want to know more about the Noble Phantasms, you can go visit their wiki. So, here it goes:
Ruler Class Card
Real Name: Jeanne d'Arc
Strength: A
Endurance: A
Agility: A
Mana: B
Luck: B
Noble Phantasm: A to EX
Mental Pollution: A
Mana Cost: A
Physical Cost: A
Noble Phantasms:
Luminosite Eternelle
Type: Barrier
Rank: A
Range: 1-10
Max. # of Targets: ??
Activation Chant:
Here's the work of our Lord!
"My flag, defend our brethrens!"
"Luminosite Eternelle!"
By planting it into the ground, tightly grasping it, and activating it as a Noble Phantasm, it converts her EX-rank Magic Resistance into protection against all harm, both physical and spiritual. The protection is initiated by an angel's blessing, and it is centered around the flag within a range of 10. It brings about a light that completely isolates anyone within it and cuts them off from their surroundings, much like the divided water from the myth of Moses splitting the Red Sea.
The downside to the ability is that the damage accumulates within the flag, causing it to begin to tear as she uses it, so naturally, she can't withstand an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm multiple times in a row.
La Pucelle
Type: Suicide
Rank: EX
Range: ??
Max. # of Targets: ??
Activation Chant:
"O Lord, I entrust this body to you-."
It is a crystallized Conceptual Weapon that acts as an offensive interpretation of her burning at the stake, a subtype of Reality Marble that has the imagined landscape crystallized as a holy sword.
By using this Noble Phantasm, Ruler loses her own life after the battle. But in exchange for her life, she can annihilate anything in existence. The EX Rank after activation is because its pure destructive power cannot be calculated. These flames only destroy that which she thinks must be destroyed. In other words, this Noble Phantasm cannot be used against simply a strong enemy or out of emotions like hate. These flames exist in order to save something.