AN: hmmm let me check... Nope still don't own Fate or Worm. Read and Review. This post has also had a few edits made that are listed in the update outlining revisions.


{}{}{}{} Three weeks post trigger; Massachusetts long term Master recovery ward.

"Red!"

Quick as a flash a dart with red tail fins shot across the room and sunk into my dartboard.

"Blue! Green! Yellow! Red! Polka Dots!"

The first four color matched darts I managed with ease, but I fully admit to flubbing the last one. I was so thrown off by the weird directive that I lost concentration and the dart wound up lopsided enough to go badly off course.

"Damn it, Archer. They asked me to try not putting holes in their wall, remember? That's the whole reason they even let me have the dartboard." I let the traced darts fade.

"Just keeping you on your toes, Taylor."

"No you're not." I dismissed his excuse. "You're just looking for some amusement. Admit it, you're as bored as I am."

"Well, maybe. It's just such a waste." He griped. "You're never going to use darts as a real weapon. It's been a useful practice tool. Being able to quickly trace simple things and even make small quick adjustments too them is a good start, but we've barely scratched the surface. It's good progress and you are learning quickly but if we don't get more freedom for you to practice…"

"I know, I know. I need to keep learning. Sword fighting, archery, general fitness. And I'm not even close to being able to trace a noble phantasm yet."

"You are getting there. But no, you aren't ready yet."

With a growl I traced a throwing star and chucked it at the dartboard. It produced a much more satisfying thump than the darts did. Even so, it did very little to actually calm me down. Turning away I stared out of my barred window. Not that there was much to see, just grass and the tree line.

Two weeks I'd been stuck here. It was an all right place, but I was a prisoner here. I had barely seen Dad. Not that I could blame him for that, after all we weren't even in the same state. He did manage to come down on the weekends for a few hours, and he called every other day, but he never knew what to say to me. He was torn between wanting to support me, and being terrified about the fact his daughter was being mastered. It made conversation, difficult.

More than that though they kept poking and prodding and asking me questions. Quite often the same questions again and again as if they expected my answers to change. Hell, maybe they did expect my answers to change.

I kept telling them what Archer and I had agreed to tell them. We left magic out of it, and the stuff about the source of powers wanting to devour earth across as many dimensions as possible. But otherwise I explained as best I could what was going on. I also neglected to discuss just what Noble Phantasms were really capable of. All I would say was that Archer had some weapons with unique abilities and I didn't know too much about them yet.

To be fair, I really didn't know much about them. Archer had told me about some of his favorites, but that was a mere handful. He had thousands.

Two more throwing stars joined the first. These were at least potentially useful, unlike the darts. They were also easier to aim.

"I wonder if it's too soon for you to try tracing a weapon with velocity. Probably best to wait until we can at least get safety glass for you to stand behind. My first few attempts with that technique were a bit… unpredictable."

"What do you mean, 'tracing a weapon with velocity?'"

"Velocity; a vector with both magnitude and direction." He lectured. "In other words you apply direction and speed to something as you trace it. I called it trace bullet because I essentially fired traced weapons like bullets."

"You can do that?! That's amazing! How do I do that?"

"Easy, Taylor. My first attempt almost buried a sword into my foot. Let's wait until you have actual room for testing things safely."

"Stingy." I grumbled half heartedly. Archer didn't respond, but I could feel a bit of amusement coming from him.

"Miss Hebert?" Someone called as they knocked on my door.

"It's locked, but feel free to come in if you have a key." I snarked. All the doors here locked from the outside. Not that something as simple as a locked door could stop me, but breaking out would just have the Protectorate hounding me. That, and I strongly suspected the entire building was rigged with containment foam.

A thought dissolved the throwing stars as I dropped onto my bed. I briefly toyed with the idea of tracing a blunted butterfly knife just to mess with whoever it was but dismissed the idea. No matter how amusing it might be it wasn't worth giving these people another reason to hold me here. Wonder who it would be this time anyway?

I started drumming my hands against the bed as I heard a key turn in the lock. "And the mystery guest star of the day iiiis~" Archer chuckled lightly at my antics. We had both learned rather quickly to make our own entertainment or be bored to tears. "Doctor Conner, rocking the latest fall psych ward wear. White thicker than hospital scrubs and a pair of black shoes that don't match at all. And just look at the shine he's getting off his head! What do you think, Archer, does he wax or polish?"

Archers amused snort made my grin grow a bit. The man wasn't much for making jokes, and he tended to get really serious from time to time. So, the fact he appreciated my atrophied sense of humor was always gratifying. It was really nice, always having a friend to talk to.

"Good afternoon, miss Hebert. You seem to be in a good mood today." The doc said favoring me with a gentle smile.

"Ahh well, I'm getting pretty good with the basics of my power. Archer was just telling me about a cool trick that he says he'll teach me when I've got more room to practice in."

The doc nodded along. I had to admit he was a good actor. They all think I'm fucked in the head, but looking at them when they talk with me you would never know it.

"I may actually have some good news on that front then."

"Wait, what?"

"What?" Archer echoed me.

"Myself and the rest of the staff assigned to your case have reached a consensus that you are not suffering from any Master or Stranger effects."

"Yes!" I shouted. Jumping off the bed I stuck my fists in the air and whooped.

"Oh thank goodness. Another week of this and I'd have begged you to let me cut us out of here."

"Two more weeks and I might have let you!"

Then I noticed the Doctor wincing, slightly. And just like that I knew we weren't free and clear quite yet. Groaning, I sank back onto the bed.

"What's the catch?" I asked. Doctor Conner at least had the grace to look sheepish.

"The fact you aren't suffering from a traditional Master or Stranger effect is a good thing." He insisted. "However, you have tripped a few red flags farther up the line. A few professionals believe this may be a case of power augmented Dissociative Identity Disorder." He offered me a sympathetic smile. "You have probably heard it called multiple personality disorder. Also, someone compared Archer speaking in your mind with the Butcher and, well…" He trailed off, but I didn't need him to explain past that.

"Fuck."

"The Butcher?"

"Anyone who kills the Butcher ends up with the voices of all the previous Butchers shouting in their head, as well as weakened versions of the predecessor's powers. They all end up going functionally insane, if there is such a thing, and are the leader of the Teeth. Which is one of the most violent gangs on the East Coast."

"Damn it."

"Exactly."

"So, what happens now?" I asked.

"Now we transfer you to a facility for Parahumans in New York for further observation. They have Parahuman specialists on staff there and will be better able to analyze your situation. Once they clear you, you'll be able to leave." He gave me a kind, sad, smile.

I stared him dead in the eye for a few moments before I spoke. "By facility, I assume you mean asylum. And when you say once, you really mean if they clear me." I wasn't really asking. I already knew.

"Doctor, I want you to think about this from my perspective for a minute. I got attacked and the stress was so bad I triggered. Something you yourself explained as 'often the lowest point of a person's life.' I cooperated with the proper authorities, didn't lash out with my new abilities, all the stuff a good member of society is supposed to do… And my reward has been to get locked up for three weeks going on indefinitely." I managed to keep my voice level, but I was glaring holes in the man. There was also more than a hint of suppressed violence in my tone.

"I am running out of patience. Archer is running out of patience. And despite how nice you all have been I do not want to spend the rest of my life being shuffled from one loony bin to the next." Now my voice was starting to rise. "When is there going to be any real progress? Or is this just going to be more of what I went through with Winslow, and the Protectorate? It's been three weeks and I haven't heard a word about the investigation they said they were going to conduct. And now you're saying that playing ball hasn't improved anything. If they think I'm a new Butcher things may even be worse now! At what point do I get to say enough and start demanding you people actually do your damn jobs!"

"Well said."

"Thank you." I huffed back.

Doctor Conner shifted nervously and glanced towards what I suspected was a containment foam sprinkler. "Miss Herbert, I know this is stressful and unfair to you, but you're just going to have to have faith. I know this must be painfully slow for you, and I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is progress."

"How, is this progress?"

"With you cleared of Master/Stranger influence that is one less thing the court could use to try and have your testimony dismissed. Though I'm not clear on what the state of the investigation may be." He shrugged apologetically. "As I said though, the facility we are transferring you to has actual Parahuman specialists. They will be able to help you were as we could only confirm you weren't being affected by a Master. I know it doesn't seem like much, but it is progress."

"What do you mean one less thing?" I demanded.

"Er, given the Protectorates new concerns the defense may be able to get your testimony thrown out under the pretense that you not mentally sound." I glared harder. "Though that won't be an issue once you are cleared!"

Growling under my breath I turned away from the Doctor and towards my dart board. A dozen throwing stars, each with different blade shapes later I felt at least slightly calmer. Letting the weapons fade I turned back to face the now much paler looking Doctor.

"Fine." I managed to grit out. "I'll keep going along with this, for now. But I am getting very tired of this runaround, Doctor." Shaking my head, I let out a long sigh. I couldn't start blatantly threatening to just up and leave. It might make me feel better, but it would just make them more paranoid and any possible breakout more difficult. "When do I leave?"

"The PRT van should be here in a couple of hours."

"Fine, whatever. Leave me alone so I can pack." The man nodded and stood to leave. "And thank Jeff for the dart board for me. I don't think I'll get a chance to see him before I leave."

"I'll be sure to tell him." I thought I detected a hint of a smile in his voice but I was already busy putting my clothes into the small duffel bag they originally came in and didn't see his face.

"Are you sure about this, Taylor? I could have us out of here in ten seconds flat."

"I know you could, and believe me I'm tempted." I rearranged a few pieces of clothing to fit better and went to take down my dartboard. "But I don't know enough to fight on my own yet, and you are used to a completely different body. And neither of us has ever fought capes before. We're not ready."

"Perhaps, but we may never be ready either if you need to learn under these conditions. So, how long will you delay?"

"... I don't know, Archer. At least a full month from now… if they give us room to really practice and learn… three months, maybe longer if it seems like I'm actually going to get cleared. But if after that long we haven't gotten anywhere…"

Archer gave a grunt that sounded like grudging agreement. "Fine, but only if we actually get the space we need for you to practice and train."

"Agreed."

{}{}{}{} New York State Asylum for Parahumans; two days after transfer

"Hello, Taylor. And if the notes in your file are to be believed I suppose I should say hello, Archer, as well. My name is Jessica Yamada." She was a middle aged woman perhaps in her late thirties or early forties.

"Nice to meet you, Doctor." The woman had an excellent poker face. Even better than Doctor Conner's. She didn't look even remotely concerned to be in the same room as me. Then again, I had asked around during meal times. From what the few other 'stable' patients could tell me a lot of the capes here were downright lethal, often even when they didn't want to be. Viewed in that light a nonviolent patient who is only just learning to use their abilities must seem downright safe.

"And you as well. If it's alright I wanted to ask you something about Archer before we continue."

"Sure." I responded with an easy shrug.

"I prefer to use real names with my patients, rather than cape names. I've found that cape names tend to have a dehumanizing effect which is rather counter productive in my line of work. Does Archer have any other name?"

"Uhh, well, he introduced himself as Counter Guardian Emiya, but he also said he preferred to go by Archer."

"Any reason for that?"

"I never asked. I just went with it I guess."

"Anything you want to contribute?" His only response was an annoyed huff. I shrugged that off.

"Hmm and you said he introduced himself to you? Could you describe that in more detail?"

Well, this was a different line of questioning. It was always 'is he trying to make you do things?', and 'how does he make you feel?' Very few of the questions had been about Archer himself. Plenty about me. I'd made it very clear to Archer and the Doctors I was less than thrilled to have a grown man riding shotgun in my head, but otherwise I was dealing.

"Sure, I guess. I was… trapped. You read about my trigger, right?"

"Yes."

I grimaced and shook my head. "Good. I've already had to talk about it too often as is." I took a long slow breath to help chase the memories away. "Point is one moment I'm... trapped, then the next I'm being served a type of tea I'd never had before by a tall muscular Asian man with white hair who looked, I don't know, late twenties? Early thirties?"

Doctor Yamada nodded politely but didn't say anything, so I pressed on.

"He introduced himself as Counter Guardian Emiya and said he preferred to go by Archer. He explained he was there to pass on his abilities, and I'm just the person who got tapped to learn them."

"Interesting, did Archer choose you?"

I shook my head. "No, he could just as easily have ended up with any other fresh trigger."

"How do you feel about that?" I was really starting to hate that question.

"It's weird having an older guy living in my head. But he keeps his mouth shut and his attention away from my senses when I need to use the bathroom or wash, so that helps. Feeling, echoes I guess, of his emotions can be annoying. I'm frustrated enough with all of this on my own. Knowing how frustrated he is with it doesn't really help. On the other hand, I haven't really had anyone I could just talk to since I started high school. Archer and I are both driven, he wants to teach, and I want to learn. So, we actually get along fairly well, and we agree on a lot of the more important things. I want to be a hero, and Archer supports that."

I looked the Doctor square in the eyes. Willing her to understand my determination.

"Archer's abilities are powerful. I've barely scratched the surface, but once I learn, or if I let him take over for the really dangerous fights…" I said leadingly.

Doctor Yamada only hummed thoughtfully. "You said he turns his attention away to give you some privacy, and that he could take over. From the notes in your file I assume you mean he could take control of your body to fight more effectively than you can?" She asked, dodging what I had been saying and redirecting the conversation.

"Well, yeah, so?" I gave her a quizzical look.

"How does Archer feel about spending so much time as a prisoner in your body?" She asked neutrally.

I opened my mouth to answer, then I closed it. "I don't know."

"It's fine, Taylor. Odd and occasionally awkward, but this is your body. I can hardly just claim it whenever I please."

"I appreciate that, Archer." I really did but that didn't make me feel better about being so thoughtless. "But if I'm going to have to let you grab control mid fight I'll have to get used to letting you take control. I can't be fighting you in the middle of a battle when you'll need to focus."

This was going to be so damn uncomfortable though. Trusting someone with my body, with my life. I couldn't help shuddering just at the thought of it. And I knew Archer knew that too. I may not have put it into words but he could no doubt feel just how much the idea upset me.

"Maybe, but if we are going to build up to that we'll take things slow."

"Thanks, Archer. I'm sorry I'm so-"

"Don't, Taylor. You have been through a lot. Trust like that isn't going to come easily. I understand. Anyone would be hard pressed to trust so deeply."

I let out a long breath and nodded. Looking up I found Doctor Yamada staring at me like a hawk.

"You were speaking with Archer just now?"

"Um, yeah. He was saying he understands and it wouldn't be right to just take over someone else's body. And I, well, I was just thinking. I might need to get used to letting him take over sometimes."

"Why?" Despite how focused the Doctor seemed her tone was even and calm.

"I don't know how to fight yet. I barely know how to use the simplest aspects of my power. I'm about as dangerous as any untrained person with a knife. Archer knows how to fight, and he can use his full power. If I get in over my head, letting him have control might keep me alive."

"Why are you so set on fighting at all?"

Why was I set on fighting? Oh, no reason. The source of powers just wants to use all the earths as an all you can eat buffet. My hometown is controlled by gangs including Neo-Nazis, and a human trafficking dragon. The Slaughterhouse Nine and the Endbringers exist. I never wanted to be trapped and powerless ever again. No reason, really.

I told her as much. Leaving out the bit about the things that grant powers.

"The need for control, and wanting to learn to protect yourself are natural reactions. Wanting to throw yourself into more fights, however, is not. The fact that you are even considering fighting things like the Endbringers when you say you are about as much threat as a normal human with a knife is highly concerning."

I raked a hand through my hair and did my best not to growl at the woman.

"Now? Right now, I'm not a threat. But in a few months, a year or two? I'll be able to make a wall of throwing knives and launch them at the speed of a fastball. If Archer isn't full of shit, I'll be able to bullseye moving targets a mile away with a bow and arrow. And that's just the mundane stuff. Some of the weapons he can make might as well be separate powers all on their own."

"Having a lot of power doesn't mean you need to go out and risk your life fighting." She said it so matter of fact, but with an undertone I couldn't quite place.

I honestly had no idea what to say to that. Sure, in theory I didn't have to fight. I could give up right now. Try to live a normal, boring life. Ignore Archer until whenever he got fully subsumed and it was just me in my head again. But I would know. Every moment of my life I would know what was coming. I would know that one day the world would come crashing to an end in part because I had run and hid like a coward when I could have fought instead. And that would only be the final shame. I would spend the rest of my life terrified of the chance an Endbringer might attack. Even though Archer had a few ideas we might try using against those monsters. Even regular capes or muggers might end up being too much for me if I rejected my powers.

I'd suffered so much to get this power. It was poor compensation for everything I'd been through, and the burden that came with it was insane. But despite all that it was mine, or at least it would be someday. How could I possibly just throw it away?

"... Doctor, I don't know if this is going to make any sense to you, but I'm going to be able to make a difference. How could I live with myself if I ignored that? If choosing not to fight meant other people are going to die because I chose to be safe. And besides… I chose not to fight back before. It didn't stop people from hurting me, did it?"

"No, I suppose it didn't…" She said sadly. "Taylor, would it be alright if I spoke with Archer for a while?"

The question caught me off guard, but remembering what I'd just been discussing with Archer I took a deep breath and nodded. With the mental equivalent of taking a step back I left an opening that Archer, stepped in to fill.

The automatic shift in my posture was still jarring to feel, but it was also less extreme. Had I really gained so much confidence in just a few weeks that my posture changed that much? Or was this proof that I was being influenced by Archer, becoming more like him?

Then my body leaned back and my arms crossed over my chest. My mouth opened on its own and my voice came out. But the words were In Archer's familiar tone of voice; subtle condescension for almost everything and a hint of amusement.

"Well, Doctor, I have to admit you are the first person who has wanted to speak with me." Amazingly Doctor Yamada did not react at all to the sudden shift.

"Why wouldn't I want to speak with one half of the most interesting case I've seen in months?" She asked sounding slightly amused.

"Only months?" One of my eyebrows hitched upward.

"Mmm, I see quite a few interesting cases in this line of work. In your case there are a number of discrepancies that simply don't add up."

"Such as?"

"The two leading theories proposed about your case are Schizophrenia and Dissociative Identity Disorder." The Doctor adopted a lecturing tone. "But neither theory seems to match with the reality of the situation. You speak with Taylor as she goes through her life, this is common among people suffering from Schizophrenia. That being said, she hasn't shown any other symptoms. No hallucinations, disorganized speech, or strange behavior. And while I was concerned over her desire to learn to fight, most Parahumans seem compelled to seek out conflict. Her reasons are, if not sensible, at least understandable. Unless that changes in the coming weeks I believe we can rule out Schizophrenia."

"Well that's good to know." Archer responded with that sardonic lilt of his. "What about the other leading theory?"

"Dissociative Identity Disorder. The hallmark of the disorder is having at least two distinct personality states, or identities. It is believed that the disorder is caused by the mind struggling to deal with traumatic incidents, and when the mind isn't up to the task, it dissociates and a separate personality forms. Taylor's trigger event would certainly be considered suitably traumatic."

I could feel my heart sink. That matched up, really well. If the professionals were convinced I was insane I was never going to be let out of here.

"There are, however, differences. You two must choose to switch personalities. It doesn't just happen at random or because something triggers the switch. More than that, both personalities are aware simultaneously, and you can interact with each other freely. That is unheard of with DID." She leaned forward in her chair. "My job is to try and determine if Taylor is suffering from DID and her powers are somehow giving you more... substance. Or if this is some new manner for powers to manifest that we just haven't seen before."

"I see." For once Archer managed to reign in his sass. He honestly sounded fairly subdued.

"I'd like to start by asking you about yourself. I don't know if anything you can tell me will prove things one way or another, but I believe it is a good place to start. What is your name? Tell me about your life."

"... How are you holding up, Taylor? This might take a while. Will you be alright?"

"I'm… this is really weird, Archer. It's a little like being trapped again. Only I know I can be back in control if I need to be… I, I'll let you know if it's too much. Give me something else to focus on?"

"...Guess it's story time after all then."

"I was raised in Fuyuki, Japan. I don't know if I was born there. My first memory is of wandering through an inferno, everything before that moment is a blank. I was… rescued, and taken to the hospital. The man who found me in the fire adopted me soon after and gave me the name Shirou Emiya."

"Japan? Can you actually speak Japanese? Being able to speak a language Taylor doesn't know would go a long way towards proving she is not suffering from DID and that this is something power related." I could feel Archer start to grin. An actual grin, something that hinted at victory.

"Of course." Then my mouth started rattling off things I couldn't understand at all, and making sounds I was sure I wasn't capable of actually making.

The Doctor blinked in surprise. "Well, I wasn't really expecting that, but I can see this is going to be a very interesting case indeed." Doctor Yamada gave me, Archer, us a warm smile. "What else can you tell me about yourself Shirou? You and Taylor say her power was originally yours. Did you trigger during the fire?"

Archer flinched slightly when she called him Shirou, and his emotions twisted themselves up in the strangest knot, but for now he let it go. "No, nothing like that. My, world I suppose, had individuals with strange abilities, but they weren't like the powers of this world. It was a mixture of science and a form or energy inherent to the individual. You could, with enough study and practice, learn to manipulate that energy. The effects were greatly varied and often passed down through families. The older the family the more knowledge they amassed and the deadlier they could be. That being said, the majority saw themselves more as scientists or researchers. Those like myself who worked to perfect our combat skills were in the minority."

"Taylor said you introduced yourself as a Counter Guardian. Where they a group that used their abilities to fight?"

My body shifted. I could guess that Archer was trying to decide how best to spin the story. Everything else he had explained so far was farfetched, but no less believable than spontaneously developing the ability to shoot lasers from your eyes. That said, the idea of serving the spirit of humanity after death… yeah that wasn't going to fly nearly so well.

"The Counter Guardians… Of everything I've done, agreeing to join the Counter Guardians is the thing I regret the most. The Counter Guardians were our final solution."

"I don't understand."

"Taylor has told me about some of the worst of your worlds Parahumans. Nilbog took over a town and turned all its inhabitants into monsters, correct?" The Doctor only nodded. "My world had something similar, we called them Dead Apostles. They were a lot like your myths of Vampires, if their victims turned into zombies. When a Dead Apostle surfaced the only response was to wipe out the town before the infection could spread. That is an example of what the Counter Guardians do." I wasn't sure if that bit was true or if he was just providing an example the Doctor might have an easier time relating to.

"Another is when some of those researchers would start playing with things deemed too dangerous. Not for the individual, but for the rest of humanity. The majority of the job was being sent in to eliminate such threats. To be a Counter Guardian is to kill in the service of humanity. We killed hundreds so that thousands might live." The scariest part was I knew Archer was underselling things, a lot.

I wasn't sure if it was my place or not but I did my best to throw the mental equivalent of a hug Archers way. It boiled down to radiating feelings of peace and acceptance towards him. I got a brief surge of gratitude in response.

Doctor Yamada said nothing. She seemed to have made an art out of the therapist's nonjudgmental acceptance face. I couldn't catch even a hint of what she might be thinking.

"From what Taylor has told me your world doesn't have an equivalent, for which I am immensely grateful. We did necessary work, but it was horrific." Archer hissed the last word. "Your existing system is less effective, and people suffer for it, but if it means Taylor won't have to kill endlessly like I did. I think I'll enjoy learning to capture and subdue enemies rather than kill them. And if Taylor should ever run across people where that isn't enough," Archer's voice went hard, "I've been there enough times to know what to do, and how to help her through it."

"Thank you." It was a bit disturbing to hear him talk like that, but I knew he was looking out for me. Both to make sure I would survive and to help me deal with the effects of doing what might need to be done.

"The Protectorate frowns very heavily on killing. It tends to cause escalation from the surviving villains."

"Perhaps, but there are exceptions, like this Slaughterhouse Nine I've heard about." Archer spoke neutrally. "Some people need to die, and if it's going to happen it's better to do it quickly and be done with it."

"As a therapist I try to advocate that issues be resolved by talking, but I won't deny that some people can't be reasoned with. One last question for now if that's alright?"

"Certainly."

"How did you end up here, as part of Taylor's power?"

Archer sighed and leaned back in our chair. "I was in a fight I couldn't possibly win. I had the skill, but not the raw power I needed. Then something offered me that power."

"Something?"

My head shook from side to side. "I don't know what it was." He lied easily. "It promised me the power to win, to save the people who were counting on me. But the price was to pass my skills onto someone else. I died shortly after that battle." I made a mental note of how vague that answer was but let it go without comment for now. "The next thing I remember was meeting Taylor." My shoulder shrugged as Archer finished speaking.

"I see." The Doctor looked down at the table apparently digesting that answer. Honestly if I didn't know the truth, I'd be lost in thought too. For all that it was a lie, what Archer was saying could launch entire new theories about the source of powers.

"I, well, we have a request." Archer changed the subject.

"Oh?" Doctor Yamada seamed, not surprised, but curious at least.

"If the facility has a gym we would like access so Taylor can get in shape. If there is enough open space, I'd like to start teaching her swordsmanship. I'd really like to teach her archery but for that I think we will need a space outdoors, and I doubt anyone is going to trust us that much just yet. Though if in the future we could arrange a few supervised training sessions for her to get some practice and learn to project weapons with velocity that would be fantastic."

Doctor Yamada nodded slowly, digesting the request. "There is a small gym here, and I think you can be cleared to use it without posing a risk to the other patients or staff. There might be enough room for sword practice if you don't move around too much? I'll have someone take you later. As for getting outside to practice, I'm afraid it's too soon for me to promise anything like that."

My body sighed. "Well it's not ideal, but it's better than nothing. I suppose that will have to do for now. If there is nothing else right now Doctor, I'll pass control back to Taylor. I've already been in control longer than ever before. I don't want to push things before she gets comfortable with this." The Doctor nodded and in a reversal of early Archer stepped back and I stepped forward.

I shook myself like a wet dog as I came back into control. "Gahh, that is so weird."

"Are you alright, Taylor?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just so weird feeling my body move and not being the one in charge. And When he said stuff in Japanese earlier! I don't think I can even make those sounds!"

"So, you don't know Japanese?"

"No, not a word. Though I think I might try learning now that I've got a dedicated tutor on hand. If nothing else it will help to pass the time here." The Doctor nodded and favored me with a small smile.

"You know I never taught anyone anything before you, but I'm actually starting to enjoy it. Remind me to teach you cooking when we get out of here."

"You can cook too?"

"Better believe it. People loved my cooking. I always found it very relaxing."

"Huh, never would have guessed."

"Well, this has been a very interesting first session. But it seems our time is about up. I look forward to speaking with you both again soon."

"Yeah, this wasn't so bad. See you next time Doctor." I waved goodbye as she left then dropped back onto my bed.

"Well, seems like we're off to a better start here wouldn't you say, Archer?"

"It's a promising start. Would you like to begin those Japanese lessons now, or do you want to spend a bit more time online?"

I glanced at the laptop they had provided me with before shaking my head. I hadn't learned anything useful about my court case the last time I'd gone searching, and I wasn't in the mood for more aimless digging right now.

"What's the first lesson teach?"

"Well for starters the proper way to address a teacher is sensei."

And so, the lesson began.

{}{}{}{} New York State Asylum for Parahumans gym; one week after arrival

I panted heavily as I came to the end of my workout and dispersed the blunted practice blades I had traced.

"This isn't going to work." I thought in Archer's direction.

"I know they are a bit heavy, but you will get used to them in time."

"Not that. Well, ok, that's part of it. But not exactly what I meant."

"I don't follow?"

"Your style is based on knowing where someone will attack and blocking when they take the opening. It's designed to combat highly skilled opponents with an edge in speed and strength."

"Correct, what's the problem."

"It's completely useless against most Parahumans."

"... Taylor, I spent years developing this style of combat. Please tell me why you are dismissing one of my life's works." Archers mental voice sounded much harsher than normal.

Well look at that, I'd managed to annoy him.

"Think about it." I responded as I drank deeply from my water bottle. "Most Parahumans are nothing like that. They're mostly untrained or have only minimal formal training when it comes to CQC. Blasters, Masters, Shakers, they won't close to that range if they can avoid it. Get in close and any half trained fighter can finish most of them. The Brutes, some of the Movers, and the Strikers get close, but are all people we want to stay away from because even with your fighting style we still might be outmatched."

Archer didn't say anything.

"It's an amazing style, Archer, but it's highly specialized and our opponents are stupidly diverse."

"... You may have a point. Once you can properly sympathize with a blades history that will open up more options for styles, but no sword style was ever designed for the kind of opponents we will be facing."

"Yeah… I don't know, designing a whole new sword style would take ages, more than that, it'll never be the perfect style for any fight. Just a style that's ok most of the time. We need a more general approach than that."

"Not a sword style… a combat doctrine? A loose set of guidelines based on how the enemy fights?"

"Something like that, yeah. I can see getting up close and personal sometimes… but the more I think about it the surer I am that I need to learn archery. You said you're bow had a range of a couple miles, right?"

"Or more. There are a few swords that I've modified in the past…"

"Right, well if I can bullseye a moving target at even a half a mile, a lot of really dangerous fights will get a lot simpler."

"You know, there are a lot of weapons I was never able to make into arrows. Focusing on long range will limit your options."

"Only if we stop modifying new ones, and I'm not saying we should never fight up close, just that we should pick our battles carefully. And what about trace bullets? If I can use that while fighting that would help a lot against a ton of different kinds of opponents. Or if I was badly outnumbered."

"Well sure but that takes a lot of… I'm an idiot."

"What?"

"My style of combat is largely based around making the most of my slightly larger than average reserves. I always had to fight conservatively in case I needed to fight a long battle, or I needed energy for a particularly powerful Phantasm later. You are hooked up to a magic battery with enough power to let you fight all out for decades, at least. There's no reason to fight so conservatively."

"...Well. We know now. We've got space and time to train. And we've given ourselves a few months before we really start pushing to be let loose. Where do we start?"

"Thought exercises I suppose. Research a cape, or group, at random and devise the best way to counter them. Keep doing that until we start to find patterns… Then we'll just have to test them in the real world to see what works and what doesn't."

"This is not going to be easy, is it?"

"No, but I do love a challenge."

"Heh, well alright then. I'll finish my cool downs and we can see what PHO can tell us."