Disclaimer: Exalted is White Wolf's, Worm is Wildbow's (Don't forget to vote.) I'm just playing with their toys.

Wyld Hunt 3.1

My dad's shower woke me up, barely an hour later. I stretched, sore, and almost bit my tongue as my left shoulder protested the movement. I looked at my unclad shoulder, and saw an angry red wound, scabbed. I tried gently moving my left arm and shoulder, and winced at every movement. I had really screwed my shoulder up. I checked my door, and with it closed, I opened my towel. An ugly slash was cut across my stomach, barely missing my original wound.

Oh, this wasn't good. I rewrapped the towel around myself, and, leaning carefully over, pulled some of my new clothes on to my bed. Good enough for now.

My dad was still in the shower, and would probably be so for another few minutes. My eyes drifted over to my ex-costume. I snagged my jeans with my foot, and pulled them to me. I reached down, with a chorus of aches and pains, and pulled them up by the legs. I reached into the pocket, and pulled out the wad of money.

Blood money.

Money I had earned, for a given value of earned, by putting a pipe through a girl my age, breaking bones on a bunch of skinheads, and nearly getting killed by Cricket. I dropped the wad, and standing, regardless of pains, kicked it into my closet. I threw my jeans on top of it, and kicked my hoodie and shirt on top of those. I would deal with it later. I wasn't going to touch it now, and certainly wasn't going to use it.

I heard the shower shut off, and waited a minute. I didn't want my dad to see my injuries - especially the obvious one on my shoulder. I gathered my clothes in my arms, and shoulder burning, held them like a bundle of firewood over my injured shoulder.

The coast was clear, and I moved as quick as I could into the bathroom. I got into the shower, relieved. Soap and hot water stung on my wounds, but I'd prefer not to need my arm amputated because it got infected. My stomach cut started bleeding again, but a quick focus on it ended that. My bleeding-stopper was really an amazing power. Without it, I'd have been dead.

And I had a new power – I had forced my body to change, to shift into what I needed. By rage. It seemed like most of powers were charged by rage. I could feel it bubbling underneath my skin, in time with the beat of my heart. My pool, inner barely replenished, seemed to resonate with it, a wellspring of hate. Was I getting angrier just by using my powers?

I had attacked two skinheads with out provocation. Spraying swastikas wasn't a clubbing offense.

I had attacked an entire group of them, and then nearly killed one of their – admittedly foul tempered and racist – parahumans.

Why? What had I thought I would accomplish? Would they stop spray painting, would they stop being racists? Stop dealing drugs?

Probably not. What had I accomplished? I'd made enemies on the villain side, and then proceeded to kidnap a girl younger than me, hold her hostage, and dump her in a situation nearly identical to the one that caused me to gain my powers. All I had to show for it was a wad of cash and an offer from the ABB. Great job, there. I wouldn't be surprised if was the number one villain on their list now.

And I had gone out to prove I was a hero.

I turned off the shower, and dried myself off. Getting dressed wasn't easy with one arm essentially out of commission, but I managed. Combing my hair with my good arm, I exited the bathroom, heading towards the kitchen. I could smell food, and the night's exertions had left me famished.

"Good morning, Dad."

"Morning." A plate was already fixed, eggs scrambled, and he put the bacon on. "Grab your plate, and could you pour the coffee for us?"

Halfway through pouring it, I paused. "Dad, I don't drink coffee."

He took his cup, and sat down with his food. I joined him, waiting for him to answer, eating my breakfast.

"I thought you might need, with how little you slept."

I coughed, spraying eggs all over my plate.

"W-What?"

"Taylor." He took a sip of his coffee. "When I checked on you early in the morning, you were gone."

I stayed silent, eating, mind blank.

"Taylor, why did you leave?"

"I don't know, I just felt trapped, and I had to get out," I lied, easily.

"You were gone over 4 hours, Taylor," he said, brushing past my evasion.

I didn't have anything to say. What could I say?

"Taylor, why?"

"I-" Started, then stopped speaking, chewing my words.

"Taylor, you can tell me. Please. What is happening? I promise, whatever it is, it won't change that I love you. I can't help you if I don't know what is going on."

That I had chopped off a girl's arm? That I had put a pipe through another? That I was a parahuman now? That I probably had a price on my head from the Empire Eighty-Eight? That the PRT thought I was a villain? That I had been a bully, in an eerily similar situation, to a girl weaker and younger than me? Would he still believe in me? Still care about, still love me? I hoped so.

I swallowed, ready to confess.

"Dad, I -"

The phone rang behind me. He motioned for me to get it.

"Hebert residence."

"Oh, is this Taylor Hebert?"

"It is. May I ask who is calling?"

"This is Officer Harmon with the Parahuman Response Team. We would like you to come in to answer some questions. Is now a good time?"


Wyld Hunt 3.2

I nearly dropped the phone in surprise.

"Ms. Hebert?"

"Yes. Yes, now is fine." I said automatically.

"Great. We have a car on the way already. They'll be there in a few minutes."

I hung up the phone, dazed.

"Who was it, Taylor?"

"The PRT. They are coming by in a bit."

"The PRT- Taylor, what do they want?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "They said they wanted me to come in to answer some questions."

"Questions about what?"

"They didn't say," I said as a sat back down, eating again.

"Taylor, you can," He paused, "I'll go get dressed, and then we will talk before they get here, ok?"

I nodded, eating mechanically. He left, draining his coffee and setting the cup on the counter as he did so. I kept eating, silent.

What had they found out? My notebooks on the scene, and my blood. They could get my handwriting sample from the school fairly easily, and my blood had also been taken at the hospital. So, they probably did have my identity.

But why call me in? Why not just show up at my door, and blast me with foam? Or even hit me with Clockblocker again.

The doorbell rang, breaking me from my thoughts.

My dad yelled down, "Could you get it? Almost ready."

With heavy feet, I walked to the door. Would they cuff me in front of my dad? Tell him everything right now? I hadn't told him, so how would he take it from their viewpoint? I swallowed as I reached the door, nearly shaking. I opened the door, and two uniformed PRT officers were waiting.

"Good morning Ms Hebert. Is your father home?"

"Yes. He is just getting dressed."

"Good, would you like to wait in the car, or -" The man was interrupted by my dad coming down the stairs, dressed.

"Officers- what is this all about?" My dad asked.

"We just have some questions, Mr. Hebert. If you could come this way," The officer said as he made a waving motion to the car at the curb. The officers held the doors for us, and we got in, a silent ride all the way to the Protectorate Headquarters.


The headquarters of the Protectorate in Brockton Bay was a renovated oil rig. Of course, that didn't quite describe it. It had changed from a mass of girders and red paint to a white building, with graceful lines and large sections of glass. Around it, a force-field distorted the air.

The ferry out to it was a quick ride, mostly empty, aside from a class of kids. Kindergarteners, probably. Out to visit the local heroes. They might even get to see a villain be arrested.

My dad was still silent, but was resting his hand on my shoulder in a show of support. It didn't help ease my queasy stomach. I kept trying to build up the courage to confess again, but I couldn't do it. Especially not in front of all these people, officers and kids alike. We docked, and were lead into the PHQ. The officers lead us into a conference room, and motioned for my dad to follow.

I almost protested, but I stopped. They hadn't arrested me, so why would they tell him now? What was going on? I sat down at the table, spinning slightly back and forth in the chair. Confused

A man walked in, wearing a suit. He sat down, and offered me his hand across the table.

"Good morning Ms. Hebert. I'm Dr. McGraw, but you can call me Joe. Now, I want to make this clear: This is not an interrogation. We are trying to piece together some events over the past few days, and we could really use your help."

I nodded, and my surprise must have shown, as he chuckled.

"A bit of shock, being invited out here, was it? No worries, we just wanted some help. Can I get you anything, tea, coffee, water?"

"No thank you, I just had breakfast."

"Well then, if you need the bathroom, just ask. Now, can we start?"

"Please."

"Do you recognize this?" He held up a page of my notebook, in a plastic bag with a red label of EVIDENCE at the top. At the header, in my handwriting, was my name.

"That's mine. I lost my notebooks the other day. Where did you find it?" I said, cocking my head to the side as I burnt my entire, though over half-empty, inner pool. My enhancer power had always worked with lying, after all, and my escape power seemed to work with all escapes. If they hadn't made the connection between my disguise and myself, I could play it off.

"At a crime scene. What day did you lose them?"

"Wednesday, I think." I frowned, making a show of thinking. "I don't really remember when. I think I still had them before lunch, but after that, I'm not sure."

"Can you remember anything at all, around lunch on that day?"

I scrunched my face up, then adopted a surprised look on my face. "No, nothing at all."

He nodded, and asked, "About what time do you start remembering?"

"The bathroom, right as school got out."

He made a few notes on a small pad, and then stood. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Hebert. If we could just ask one more thing of you?"

"Yes?"

"The Director would like to speak with you, briefly. Would that be okay?"

I nodded, surprised. The Director of the PRT might as well be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. The Bay was easily in the top 10 Protectorate and PRT stations.

"Great, she will be right in," He said, over his back as he left.

Not a minute later, the Director walked in. She was a heavyset woman, with a bob cut. Behind her, Armsmaster followed, minutely slouching. Tired, if my guess was correct.

"Good morning, Ms. Hebert. I'm Director Piggot, and I am told you have already met Armsmaster."

"Good morning. Dr. McGraw said you wanted to talk to me."

"That's correct," she said, sitting down. Armsmaster sat to her right, leaning back in his chair.

"Over the past few days, we have had several incidents. I'm sure you noticed some of them."

"The lights," I ventured.

She nodded, and elaborated, "Actually, those are just some of the more public ones. Several altercations have occurred, between involving both heroes and villains. Is there anything you know about these past few incidents?"

"Nothing. Why?"

In his seat next to the Director, Armsmaster readjusted himself.

"In a moment. Is anything in this file familiar?"

She slid a folder over to me. It read on the parahuman Defiler, headed up with a picture of me in my rock-form, with a slice of Vista showing in the edge of the picture.

"Defiler? Isn't that a villain name?"

"If you read the history, you will see she hasn't exactly been a hero."

I made a show of reading the file, all three pages of it.

"No, I don't know anything about her."

In his seat, Armsmaster shifted again. Piggot nodded in response to me.

"We wanted to talk to you, because this Defiler seems to be following you, or at least tangentially involved with you. We believe her triggering could be connected to you as well. Her stealing your notebooks is an example of the connection."

She pulled an envelope out of her briefcase, sliding it over to me. I held it up, eyebrows up.

"And this is?"

"A letter. To Defiler."

"Why give it to me?"

"Because we have no way to contact her directly, and you are our best connection to her at this point. And, what it says is, that we want to meet. We realize that things have gotten off on the wrong foot, and we wanted to apologize. I, and along with Miss Militia for a guard, will meet her. Alone. No officers around the corner, no Wards waiting to spring out. Sunday at noon, where she fought Shadow Stalker."

"Why tell me?"

"So you don't have to read it, and in case she asks you."

"I don't even know she exists-"

"And, all I am saying is, just leave it out on your dresser. Or give it to her if on the off chance you see her. Tell her if you meet her."


Wyld Hunt 3.3

My dad was in the gift shop, buying something, as I exited the conference room. Director Piggot followed me, and walked over to my dad, hand extended as he exited the gift shop.

"Mr. Hebert. Thank you for coming in, and you have a very bright daughter."

My dad, whose state of being was always appearing bemused, broke records. "Thank you. Glad we could help."

"A car will be waiting for you at the ferry. Stay safe."

With that, she walked away. My dad, motioned me over to the door, and we exited the lobby, taking a hallway down to the terminal.

"I got you a shirt. Alexandria is still your favorite hero, right?" He pulled out his purchase, a blue shirt with Alexandria, a different pose than my old red one. And without multiple cuts, and not soaked in blood. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I didn't know if I even had a favorite hero any more. Especially when money couldn't be easy to come by, with a hospital stay recently.

"Thanks Dad. Still my favorite," I said, giving him a one-armed hug as we walked down the empty hallway. The ferry was waiting as we entered the terminal, and we were out on the bay even before we reached our seats. The motion of the boat was hypnotic, so much so that I woke up to my dad gently shaking me as the ferry docked. Two new officers met us, and I woke up again as we pulled up to the house.

I went straight to bed.

I slept till sunset, and felt like a new Taylor. Aside from the ravenous hunger. The smell of pork chops wafting into my room drew me out and to the kitchen. My shoulder felt funny, but I could see how it was healing after supper.

My dad was over the stove as I walked in. I felt a pang of guilt; usually we switched off cooking. I had been neglecting that duty. And I'd been a pretty big burden on him these past few days. Not even a week since I had gotten my powers. And on Sunday, I could tell him. I promised myself, I could then. I might even be a Ward. But, I wouldn't be a villain, and I could tell him. I smiled, actually smiled, and felt relieved.

"Evening, Taylor."

"Dinner smells great, Dad."

He turned, still working on the pork chops. "You sound much better. I guess you needed the sleep."

"I'll probably still sleep all night," I replied.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

My mood dropped. I didn't want to before my meeting with Piggot, "Can we wait till Sunday evening? I promise, everything will make sense then."

The kitchen was quiet, barring the sounds of meat cooking. My dad put a plate in front of me, pork chops and mashed potatoes. I ate, waiting for him to respond.

"Christ, Taylor. I was really worried about you."

I finished chewing, and said, "I'm sorry. But I promise. Sunday would be so much better. It will make a lot more sense then."

He ran his hand through his hair. "Okay. Because I trust you."

I smiled at him, "Thank you Dad."

"And I'll call your school on Monday to explain away, this."

I lied, "The officer who called me said they would do it."

"Nice of them."

We chatted about inconsequential things, and I helped with the dishes. I sat on the couch, watching the news until my dad went to bed. Only speculation on me, still.


My shoulder was bronze. Or, more accurately, my divot was filled with bronze. My scab, along the edges, had worn away, revealing heavily patinaed bronze beneath it. I touched it, and it was warm to the touch. It even flexed a bit as I moved my arm.

Weird.

I checked my other wounds, and they were still scabbed, and very sore. I really hoped I didn't turn totally bronze. I'd have to use my disguise power constantly. Not good. Using up half my inner or even a chunk of my outer at all times wouldn't cripple me, but it would lessen my options. The Wards might actually help there.

I clicked the switch, and went to bed, dreaming of a green sun.


Sunday morning dawned, and my dad's shower woke me, better than any alarm. I had spent most of Saturday asleep, again. I pulled my T-shirt off my shoulder, and looked at it. Bronze. I lifted my shirt, and my stomach had a bronze slash across it, that didn't stretch quite as easily as flesh. Better than a cut.

I started breakfast, and halfway through my dad's shower turned off. He walked in, just as I was putting french toast and bacon on a plate.

"You're up. I thought I'd have to drag you out, come Monday."

I smiled, in a good mood. "No worries. I'm alive."

As he swallowed, he said, "Thank you for making breakfast. A nice treat."

"You're welcome."

"So, since you are up today, I assume you have something planned?"

I shrugged. "Just the library. Probably leave in an hour or so. I've got a lot of work to catch up on, and I'd like to get started."

"Going by yourself?" He asked.

"Yes."

He nodded, thinking as he ate. "Okay, but be safe. And call from the payphones every once and a while. You have enough money for lunch?"

I had plenty. I didn't need to take it from him. "I've got a ten in my pocket."

"Okay," He said, half to himself, half to me. "And we are going to talk about everything, tonight?"

I nodded, leaving the kitchen.

Costume, repaired with thread, in a plastic bag, check.

Pools full, check.

Change for a phone, check.

I took a deep breath. Here went, well, everything.

I left from the front door, heading to the library.


Wyld Hunt 3.4

I made it to the library right after it opened at 8. I had a few hours to kill, and then I would leave early to check out the meet. I didn't want to get ambushed again by Vista and Clockblocker; regardless of what Pigott might have said, I was going to be careful. But hopeful.

The library was empty – literally empty – except for the staff. In my mental notebook, I put a check mark on Sunday. Good day to come to the library for research. I took the farthest computer station, and sat down. I could leave around 10, and that would still give me two hours to look at the meeting spot, find some exits out of the area, and then search the area, in case of Piggot bringing non-agreed upon back up.

Parahumans Online had a stub on me. Defiler was only listed with a power rating, and a much hazier picture, with Vista cropped entirely out of the frame, then the one I had seen in the file. The heroes' insurance policy? If you don't get on board, I'd get a villain page? Pretty effective. I didn't want to be a villain, anyway. I had my own forum topic, too. Mostly people speculating on who I was - in relation to other capes, not my actual identity.

They had better give me a different name if I joined the Wards. And that was one of my two options. That, or stay independent. But I needed to talk to the heroes to clear the air. Otherwise, I could bet on them coming to hunt me down.

Nine O'clock. Time to go.


I went to the payphones across the street, at a gas station. My dad picked up on the second ring.

"Taylor?"

"Hey dad, just checking in. I'm getting something to eat at the gas station, then going back in."

"Thank you Taylor. Call me in a bit." And with that, he hung up, and I walked away from the gas station.

I headed to the Docks. I stopped in an alleyway, at the edge of the Docks, and pulled out the letter. I looked at it, vaguely impressed. It was fancy paper, heavy, and even had a seal on it. They really wanted to impress me. Of course, they had already tried to, even when they had thought I was only peripherally connected to Defiler. If I could get away with not illuminating them to that fact, I would.

I changed into my costume, noise wrinkling at the smell. Even a heavy wash hadn't completely got the smell of blood and sweat out of it. I got dressed, carefully, and stuffed my clothes into the bag. I put the bag underneath a dumpster, scratching an X into each facing with a sharp rock. I only kept my keys.

I opened the letter. It even had an official letterhead.

To: "Defiler"

From: Director Piggot, PRT.

First, I would like to apologize for the misunderstandings between us so far. Our Wards are very tense, and as I am certain you know, a large fight was occurring at the same time as your altercation with them. In their haste to move to assist their comrades, they made a mistake in attacking you. You can be assured, that was not our intention.

I would like to meet with you, alone. I will bring one guard, Miss Militia, who has the power to create weapons. I will bring no others, and if you wish it, will not be privy to our conversation. I suggest the meeting time for this Sunday, at noon, where you fought Shadow Stalker – the Ward who used crossbows and could change into shadows like you.

If this is not acceptable, please contact us, in any way you can, and I will be happy to accommodate a meeting.

Signed,

Director Emily Piggot

Parahuman Response Team

I think that answered whether they were serious or not. The early morning shadows in the alley rose around me.


Even this early on a Sunday, the Dock's semi- and illegal economy was going strong. Men and women exchanged small packages and brown bags for cash, and under dressed women, while not as prevalent as I thought, were still a presence.

"I don't have it!" A woman's yell caught my awareness, and I looked. Under the alcove of a building across the street, a man and woman were arguing. He looked, well, like a pimp. He had a fur coat – fake, surely – and gold jewelry. I paused, bemused at the stereotypical outfit. And then he slapped the woman, full across the face.

She fell to the ground, hands to her face. She didn't have nearly enough clothing covering her legs for this early on a January morning. "I don't have it! Help!"

He pulled a knife

"Stop yelling! And empty, huh? Then I'll take it out of you."

I could just keep walking -

"No- Please, no! I swear, I swear I'll be good!"

Damn it.

I couldn't stand by and let this happen. I spotted, and scooped a rock of the ground, and my inner pool shrank slightly. The rock arced through the air, and popped him right in the kidney. He yelped in surprise, dropping the knife. He turned, and yelled at me.

"Who the fuck do you -" He stopped, growing pale. "Shit!"

With that, he scampered away, looking back over his shoulder, leaving me and his victim. Me, bemused, and his victim, stunned.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

"Who are you?"

Huh. Still no good name. "Defiler, I guess. It'll change, soon."

She sat up, and muttered to herself, "Now where am I gonna get my fix?"

I assumed it was a drug, and left. What else could I do?


I reached the site, by my approximation at 10, or possibly a bit later. No one was there yet, and I got to see what the PRT had done. Sections of concrete had been cut out, and even bricks were missing from the walls. The area where my blood had misted out was completely missing. I debated going down stairs to investigate, but it would probably be the same. Nothing to learn here. I started my search pattern.

Curling out in ever-widening circles, I spotted no one, until I spotted many.

Coming up the street, in broad daylight, were capes.

I recognized one of them, very easily.

Cricket.


Wyld Hunt 3.5

Oh. Damn.

I ducked behind a building. Miss Militia and Piggot would probably be arriving soon, and would walk right into a trap. That could be interpreted as my fault, or worse, as my trap. I silently ran around the backside of the building, backtracking, and looked at backs of the capes.

Cricket, I knew well.

The other two I only knew of from my research. Stormtiger could shoot blasts of compressed air, and Crusader could make ghosts of himself, which he could use to fly. Or, the perfect two people to attack me. Stormtiger could possibly blow me away when I was in shadow form, and I couldn't hide very well from someone who could send ghosts after me.

They really weren't happy with me. Damn. And too many for me to fight, even with favorable conditions. Thursday night had not been a good night. They hadn't appreciated my interference. Of course, I had nearly killed Rune.

Rune. I looked up, searching for her. Nothing yet, but that didn't mean she wasn't searching as well.

I could take off my scarf and hoodie, but I would still have the dark jeans on. I was disguised with the same face as when I had attacked Sophia, but I didn't know if it was different enough from the face I had worn Thursday night/Friday evening. I had reddish hair instead of bright blond, but would it be enough?

I didn't have any other choice. I had to get them away from the meeting area. They were only a few hundred yards away, and heading almost directly towards it. I would attract attention, take off the hoodie, and double back. I sprinted towards them, grabbing a rock as I skidded to a stop, inner pool emptying and recharging simultaneously, and sent it flying straight at Crusader's head.

"Who the fuck- Get her!"

I was already sprinting in the opposite direction the moment I had released the rock. I reached the building I had seen them from, and took the alleyway. An explosion blew the wall apart behind me. Maybe not the greatest plan, but the only one I had. Crusader would fly after me, and try to keep tabs for the slower Stormtiger and Cricket. Or, land bound, at least. He could track me fairly easily. So, he was the only one I needed to incapacitate. Once he couldn't relay my position to Stormtiger and Cricket, I'd be free to sneak by them, and meet Piggot.

I looked over my shoulder, trusting my power to keep my balanced. I could see Crusader held up by a pair of his ghosts, barely above the roof tops. Perfect. I turned, rushing back towards him. A ghost flew over my head, aimed at the spot I would have been, arms spread wide. So, their plan was to capture. He swooped down further, two more ghosts forming, and charging me. I emptied my inner pool in response.

His ghosts reached me as I discoproated, and I saw his eyes widen as I slammed both of my heels into his chest in a devastating double kick. We fell together, and in the few yards I had, I grabbed him. He landed, and I landed on his chest, stunning him further. His ghosts went wherever they went when he lost, dissolving into thin air. Well, maybe not ghosts. Force-fields of some sort. But gone now. I turned, and sprinted back down the alley, inner pool partially refilled. I really needed to work out had that worked.

Further behind me, another building grew a new hole, as Stormtiger blew through it, and stumbled upon Crusader. Probably not now the time to work on it, though. He yelled something to Cricket, who responded in kind. I saw an open door way on the building to my right and front. Perfect.

I ran the length of it, and turned into it. The door on this side wasn't open, but the window was. I turned into to shadows again, slipping through the window. I could feel my mark appear, faint. But I had also gained more in my inner? Not the time, not the time.

I sprinted down the length of the interior of the building, stripping my hoodie off as I went. My scarf followed, and I folded them into a tight a package as I could. I slipped it under my shirt, like I had an odd belly, and looked outside. Clear. They must still be chasing shadows.

I went to the corner, and peeked around into the alleyway, and I saw Cricket follow my path to the window and door. Perfect. I sprinted across the gap between building and dilapidated lot, and the width of the lot to a street. I slowed to a walk, and headed to the meet spot.

"Fucker!"

I moved on reflex, and a dumpster slammed into where I had been walking. Rune, standing on a slab of concrete, was surrounded by an even dozen rocks and slabs of concrete, at least 50 feet in the air. A set of six were sent flying to me, bracketing me with five, and the sixth dead on.

Damn. My inner was all but out, and I couldn't dodge all those even with an enhancer. I discoporated, the rocks missing by a few yards. I could feel my mark solidify on my head, and the green glow burned like a torch. I sprinted to the side, only to skid to a stop. Stormtiger, trailed by Cricket was coming that way, out of the building I had gone through. I turned back to face Rune.

Another half of her collection of rocks were arcing to me, directly from her. I didn't have enough in my inner to dodge, and I couldn't go full bore, super glow-

I grinned. I didn't need to stay stealthy, did I? The PRT wanted to meet, and Miss Militia would be standing by. If they were sincere, they'd help. I dodged forward, rocks passing through the shadow of myself, as I burned my outer pool.

The titanic spider rose from the sea of shadows on the ground around me, and I felt my skin harden, growing thicker. My shoulders burned, and two leathery wings exploded out of my shirt, ruining the back. I took to the air, straight at Rune, the green light around me outshining the sun.


Wyld Hunt 3.6

Rune plummeted like a rock, surprised. I followed, and grabbed her by the neck. She beat on my arms with her fists, but I didn't feel them at all. She felt what I did: She was too heavy to fly with, so I glided, and released her. She slammed into the edge of a building, falling into an open dumpster. I beat my wings harder, gaining altitude. Stormtiger was forming some sort of hazy claws, and I dived away in a evasive maneuver. The air rippled in a line where had discharged his claws. I landed on a roof, out of his sight.

The glow sure wasn't though. Another explosion hit the front of the building I had landed on, showering the air with bricks and dust. I flitted to another building, moving slight off of the direction to the meeting spot. I didn't want Miss Milita to get ambushed, after all. Of course, I was half-giddy as well. I was flying. Sure, my wings didn't exactly look pretty, but I couldn't have everything.

I turned at the sound of another explosion, and saw the first building I had landed on begin to collapse. They were catching up. That took second priority, as further away, I could see two woman grow two stories above the surrounding buildings. Menja and Fenja. Two I probably couldn't hurt at all. As they got larger, they not only got stronger, but attacks got even weaker. I doubted a train going full blast could hurt them at full size.

I took off again, flying, shadows trailing me. I didn't want to mess with them. If I floated up here for a bit, I could hand off Piggot's letter to Miss Militia as she arrived on scene, proving my bona fides, and tell her I wanted to reschedule. I went in for another landing, and nearly impaled myself.

A thicket of metal had sprouted from the edge of the roof, and was reaching out to me. I flapped, hard, and barely managed to escape the hooks, barbs, and spears questing for my flesh. I regained altitude, and looked down. Kaiser. Was the entire Empire Eighty-Eight after me?

I circled, and glided down and away, thinking. This was a bit too hot. But Miss Milita should only be a few minutes away. Or, if they hadn't shown up yet, much farther away. Damn. It was looking like I'd have to flee and let my light show die down. Further away, Menja or Fenja tripped. Or, at least I thought she did. One moment she was striding towards me, the next she was falling sideways.

A blast of fire at the same spot solved that query; Lung was here too. Her sister turned to help her. I flew over, previously unused muscles tiring. Lung, barely scaled, was slamming one of the sister's shields repeatedly into her own face. I glided down to a rooftop behind the building I had run through. A burst of air broke a dozen yards over my head. At least I was further away from Kaiser.

Movement further down a street caught my eye. Three dogs the size of vans – full size vans, not mini vans – were running down the street towards me, each with a rider, and the one trailing with an extra. Who the hell were they? I took off, again. I didn't want to exhaust my wings; I had the feeling I was going to need the ability to fly to get out of this mess. I looked for a new place to set down and think.

Of course, coming perpendicular to the new arrivals was a mess. A vehicular mess, that looked like something a three year-old with a soldering iron put together out of toy cars. A shimmering haze formed behind some debris to its side, rapidly glowing blue. The debris shot forward, directly towards me. I closed my wings, dropping, and reopened them, losing half my altitude. The trash shot right over my head, and I skidded to a stop on a rooftop.

That had to be Squealer, a tinker, and she was with the Merchants. Was every villain in the Bay here today?

The boom-boom-boom of a gun being rapidly emptying grabbed my attention. I took off, dodging a trash can this time, and beat my wings as hard as I could. Miss Militia was emptying a shotgun into Kaiser's back, to no effect. She dodged the metal poles that sprouted from the walls around her, and her shotgun turned into light, forming an assault rifle. The rapider, higher pitched shots slammed into Kaiser, to not much more effect. He ran though, taking a pot shot with a shark's fin of metal that missed Miss Milita by several feet.

I dove to her, waving my hands desperately. I didn't want her to think I was a new cape, or an enemy. Or to be shot from the sky. She looked up as the light intensified, and waved the rifle to me, before rolling. A blast of air blew the spot she had been standing into a cloud of dust. She stood, and walked backwards, shooting methodically. I could see Cricket, Stormtiger, and Kaiser near her, with Stormtiger being kept around a corner by bullets whizzing past him. Two more capes I didn't know, but who were clearly with the Empire Eighty-Eight were moving around Miss Milita.

I swooped down, and her weapon dissolved back into light, holstering into a sheath as a knife. She held her arms out, and I wrapped mine around her, with an "Oof!" on both of our parts. Breathless, I flapped as hard as I could, and she clutched my waist.

"How many?" She shouted in my ear.

"A lot," I yelled back, hoarsely.

I landed on the rooftop behind Miss Militia's attempted last stand, glow dying down to a bonfire. Air exploded behind us, again.

"I saw two more Empire Eighty-Eights, aside from those three," I wheezed.

"Night and Fog," She said, as she caught her own breath. "Next roof!"

I grabbed her again, as more explosions rocked the building. A quick flight, and I set her down on the lip of the rooftop. Miss Milita turned, and blasted away with a shotgun, forcing the Empire Eighty-Eight capes to stay back. All five of them stayed out of the alleyway as she sprayed lead into it.

"I can't keep them back; they're going to flank us."

"Rocket launcher?"

"Too many people around – Look out!"

A dark haired woman in a suit had just stepped out of a building, right next to Cricket.


Wyld Hunt 3.7

Cricket took a swing at the woman, sword angled to cut her neck.

The woman stood aside, and pulled a skinny knife out. She stepped in, and with a quick jab to her ribs, the knife sunk to the hilt, followed by a slash across the throat. Cricket was down.

Stormtiger turned, and loosed his claws, the doorway behind her blowing apart under the pressure. She merely leaned to the side, and slashed his left wrist. As he clutched it, she closed, slamming the hilt of her knife on his mask. On the opposite side of the building, Night and Fog ran forward, Night throwing a grenade. A knife pierced it in mid-air, and it spun back, not going off. Fog discorporated, somewhat like I did, but instead a mass of mist that could eat anything. Kaiser pushed himself out of range of the suited woman with metal poles.

A slice to Stormtiger's stomach, and he loosed his claws again, right into the charging Fog. He screamed, blown back to reveal Night, who stumbled slightly, as if she had been running faster. A knife sprouted in her chest, and she stumbled again.

The woman in the suit turned to us, and clearly said, "Go!"

She then, with a flurry of quick stabs, gave Stormtiger three new holes.

Miss Milita grabbed my arm, pulling me across the roof. I wrapped my arms back around her, and sprinted into a take-off. With tired flaps, I made more of a powered jump away. We landed 50 yards away from the fight, and we could see a collection of metal collide with the building we had been standing on.

"Who was that?" I asked Miss Militia.

She shook her head, and her clutched shotgun became a rifle. "More."

The trio of dogs were crossing rooftops with gigantic leaps, and jumping down into the streets and back up when they couldn't go across on the roofs. They bypassed the fight between the Empire Eighty-Eight and the suited woman, and came straight at us.

Or at least until the rear dog stumbled as well. I'd make a bet that it had gained a knife in a foot. I heard someone screaming profanities in response. It skidded to a stop before it could jump, and limped to the side. Miss Militia brought her rifle to her shoulder, aiming at the two closing dogs. She relaxed, and her finger pulled the trigger. And missed, by a mile, as she suddenly jerked her rifle to the side.

"Master! Or Stranger! Move!" She shouted, pulling me again.

Once more, we took to the sky. Except, my arms spasmed, and Miss Milita fell from my grip. I dived, grabbing her by her outstretched arms, desperately pulling her up. And my then left wing flexed the wrong way, dropping us both into an ungainly roll across the ground.

Her weapon, which I thought she had dropped, rematerialized in her hands as a shotgun once more. "Go, you can fly. I'll buy you time, and pick off as many pursuers as I can."

"But-" I tried to argue.

"Go!"

I dug into my jeans pocket, past my keys. I pulled out the slightly crumpled letter, and gave it to her.

"So she knows I want to meet. I'll call-"

She grabbed it from my hand, stuffed it in a pouch, and shouted, "Go!"

I ran, further away from the dogs, and took off behind a new building, staying low. The sound of gunfire was suddenly muted, and tears formed in the corner of my eyes. I kept low for a full minute, before pulling up sharply, the glow around me dimming. Where Miss Militia had been was a patch of darkness, and two monster dogs limping around it. The third was still on the rooftop farther back, but was lying down, as the Merchant's hideous mass of metal rumbled to a stop nearby.

The top of it swiveled, and with dawning horror I realized I was looking at a turret, with a very large barrel. I felt more than saw the tongue of flame, followed by the BOOM as it sent a mass of metal at me, which exploded into a dirty cloud of shrapnel above me. My wings furled, I dived, straight to the ground, heading for my hidden clothes.

I landed with a wince, ankles hurting at my sudden stop. I pulled my clothes from underneath, and took off once more, heading due south, to the Boardwalk. I couldn't do anything more.


I landed in a junk yard, not a mile from the Docks. No junkyard dogs, at least. I shucked my wings and thicker skin, and changed back into my clothes. I hid my costume, in its bag, in a formerly bright red car, now rusted and windowless. Still a redhead, I tried to leave from the gate.

Locked. Damn. I started searching. A section of a re-bar was adequate, and burning with green fire, I struck the top of the lock. The entire shackle burnt away, as my mark returned to full glory, a black disk. I scampered out. I needed to find a payphone. And get home. Today had not worked out as expected.

"Dad?"

"Taylor, coming home?"

"Yeah. Right now."

"I can pick you up at the library in a few minutes. Save you the walk?"

At the payphone, I cursed silently. Could I make it there in five? Probably not. Of course, he could look inside the library, and then I could say I couldn't find him.

"Sure, see you there," I said with false cheer, and hung up. I walked away, tossing my costume in the trash can in front of the gas station as I vacated the premises. I sprinted once I was out of sight, my disguise melting away, needing to get to the library as soon as possible.

Sweaty, exhausted, and pools empty and half-empty respectively, I arrived at the library in only 407 Mississippis. My dad's car was in the lot already, and I rested against it. My new Alexandria shirt felt odd, not being full of holes and my own blood. I wiped my forehead, and went inside, straight to the woman's bathroom. I cleaned up in a minute, wiping my face. I left the bathroom, and went to the circulation desk, followed by the computer stations.

My dad was there, waiting for me. He gave me a smile, and we walked out.


Wyld Hunt 3.8

"Get some work done?" My dad asked, glancing over at me, as we stopped at a red light.

"Not really," I admitted. "Not as much as I would have liked."

He didn't reply. The light turned, and we started moving again.

"Taylor, are you happy?"

I frowned, "What?"

"It's just that you seem so different. Over the past week, ever since..." He trailed off, clearly not wanting to speak of the locker.

"I don't know. I'm just reacting to my circumstances, I guess."

"Taylor, when you went out the other night-"

I grimaced, speaking quietly, "I don't really want to talk about that now, Dad. Things haven't worked out quite right. I wanted to talk to someone first, but I couldn't reach them."

"Taylor. You know, if anything is wrong, you can tell me. I'll say it again: whatever happened, it won't change how much I care about you. I'm your father."

In silence, we pulled up to the house. Walking in, I replied, "But this is important to me dad, and I don't want you thinking less of me. If I can just talk to..."

I paused. I certainly couldn't say the Director, "a certain person, everything will be straightened out. Right now, it looks worse than it is."

We entered the kitchen, and he leaned against the counter. "Taylor, is the trouble with the police?"

Not precisely. "No. It's more personal."

"The bullies, then?"

Somewhat close. I nodded.

"When will you talk to this person?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to the library. I'll talk to them there."

He nodded, "So tomorrow evening?"

Relieved, I nodded back. "Tomorrow evening."

Plenty of time to find a payphone and talk to Piggot. She knew I wanted to talk, and Miss Militia had backed me up. We could come to an arrangement. Relieved didn't begin to describe it.


I laid on the couch, flipping through channels before dinner. My dad was making some sort of pasta, which sound amazingly good, after this morning and no lunch. I stopped on the news, needing information.

"-and thank you for that piece, Diane. We are all glad that Dovetail was there. After the break, we will bring you breaking news on today's fight in Brockton Bay."

Commercials. Time to think. The Merchants, Empire Eighty-Eight, and the four people on three dogs had all been gunning for me. Lung hadn't come to aid or attack me, but had focused on the E88. The woman in the suit had helped Miss Militia and I, and Miss Militia had clearly been on my side. Why, on all accounts?

The Empire Eighty-Eight attacking me made the most sense. I had done serious damage to Rune, and interfered in their ongoing war with the Azn Bad Boys. Attacking me made sense from a strategic and propaganda prospective. Couldn't let any small fry get big ideas about attacking them. Of course, I had taken Crusader out, and Rune again. They might try even harder, now.

The Merchants were proof that powers went to everyone, regardless of background. Drug dealers and pimps, they generally only used their powers to secure supply of said drugs, and hold onto whatever territory was left from the ABB and E88. Why they had attacked me, I couldn't fathom. Unless I had some sort of bounty on my head, but who would have put it out?

The dog-people were unknowns. I suspected the darkness generating cape was Grue, the only known cape in the Bay with those powers, but the dogs were definitely outside of his scope. And, whoever had used that ranged electrical power that had knocked Miss Militia from my arms, and then temporarily ground me. One possible known, and three unknowns, with only vague descriptions of 'Dogs' and 'Super Taser.'

Lung had clearly just been there for the E88, specifically Kaiser. If he took Kaiser out, the Empire Eighty-Eight might fragment, leaving him with an enemy in the middle of a civil war, while he could rebuild from the drumming he had been taking over the past week.

Miss Militia had probably been sent by Piggot to extract me, or failing that, talk to me. She hadn't tried to shoot me, after all. And she might even still be alive. I had left her behind with villains, but would they kill a hero? I really, really, hoped not. She had sacrificed herself to buy me time to escape.

And last but not least, who was the suited woman? She had annihilated the Empire Eighty-Eight capes with ease. The only one I hadn't seen her take out of the fight had been Kaiser. And Lung, at that point, was probably coming up right behind him. Was she an independent cape?

I rubbed my face. The commercials were over, and it was time to see what everyone else had seen of this afternoon's, scuffle.

"Tonight: Trouble in Brockton Bay. A new Triumvirate on the horizon? And Endbringers, what you need to know."

The montage of reporters looking at the camera, at papers, or talking among themselves played and ended, along with the muzak.

"Good evening, I'm Gary Cooper -"

"And I'm Hallie Shea. In breaking news; This afternoon's enormous fight between the major villains in Brockton Bay."

"Very big, Hallie. Both of the biggest gangs in the city, the Asian Bad Boys, and the Empire Eighty-Eight, were present, along with two other groups of villains. On the scene, Miss Militia, and an unidentified independent cape, managed to capture several members of the Empire Eighty-Eight, several injured quite severely."

"So far we have confirmation that the villains Stormtiger and Cricket have been captured, which, along with Hookwolf earlier this week, could signal the beginning of the end, for one of America's largest white supremacist gangs."

"Good on Miss Militia and the unnamed there, Hallie."

"I'll have to stop you there, Gary. This just in: the PRT has released limited information on the unidentified independent cape. Name of Defiler, a confirmed independent cape, reported to have a shape-shifting ability. At this time, they have not answered any questions whether she is a hero or villain, or whether or not she is related to the reported precognitive outages, worldwide. We go now, to field reporter Elliot Hirsch, at the Brockton Bay headquarters. Elliot?"

"Taylor? Dinner is ready."

My stomach gurgled in response, and I had an enjoyable, but mostly silent dinner with my dad.


Monday morning, and my wounds were completely bronzed over. I stretched, free of aches and pains. I felt good. Back to school.


Wyld Hunt 3.9

The shower felt good, especially with skin that wasn't tender or broken for the first time in almost a week. Hot water in wounds wasn't pleasant. But my new metal skin wasn't as sensitive as my actual skin. Was it permanent? I hoped not. I'd eventually get enough scrapes alone to turn into a golem. I'd have to be more careful getting injured. Towel around my midriff, I walked back to my room, combing my hair, working on tangles. I had gotten quite a few, not taking care of myself the past week.

I got dressed, still using my purchased Salvation Army jeans. When my dad knew about my change, he'd probably be happy to spend a bit on some better fitting clothes. And he'd be happy to know, too. My new Alexandria shirt, replacing the one I had thrown away, went on top. I wasn't happy with myself for that. It had been one of the last things I had connecting me to my mom, and if I had time, I might even look through trash cans this afternoon.

I started breakfast again, and timed it a bit later. My dad came out, bathrobe on, and opened the refrigerator. He poured us both orange juice, and chatted about the previous day's fight. He had caught some of it on the news, and we both agreed that the Empire Eighty-Eight was in dire straits. Neither of us were sorry about that.

"Didn't they say it was just two who took all them down?"

One, actually. We just got the credit. "Miss Militia and the other one," I replied instead.

"Neffler, or something?"

"Defiler," I corrected.

"That was it. Ready for another week?"

Finishing my plate, I nodded. "Ready for a normal one."

"Me too."


I bundled up with a sweater underneath my jacket; it was pretty cold. The car wasn't much warmer, and the weatherman said the cold snap was supposed to last all week. Not a time to be out in tights. I'd stick with jeans, or heavier pants, for my caping. The ride to school was quick, and except for my remaining notebook shaking in my shivering hands, uneventful.

"So, pick you up from the library around 5, then?"

I thought. Plenty of time to get to the payphone – in a disguise, of course – and talk to Piggot. I'd just have to convince her secretary, if she had one, that I was the real deal. I wouldn't be surprised if she had gotten plenty of crank calls, already. I'd even have time to go looking for mom's shirt. Torn and bloody, it was still valuable to me.

"Perfect. I'll be glad to get this off my chest."

"Want to go out for dinner, then? A treat would be nice after the past two weeks, wouldn't it?"

Money was tight, but if worst came to worst, I still had that roll in my closet. I'd prefer not to touch it, but circumstances dictated actions.

"Sure. We'll talk over dinner."

He nodded, smiling. We pulled up to the curb, and he said, "See you at 5. Have a great day."

"5 at the library," I confirmed. "See you there."

Emma and Madison were chatting in the hall, but I blew right past them, not even giving them a glance. I thought I heard something behind me, but I kept walking. They seemed so insignificant compared to Nazis trying to kill me.

The first class out of homeroom was Computers, and both were with Mrs. Knott. She gave a surprised start at seeing me, and waved me over to her desk.

"Taylor, its great to have you back."

I nodded, still somewhat resentful over my 'altercation.'

"Well, I'm glad you are feeling up to school this week. I've collated all your homework, reading, and classwork from your teachers. Do you want it now, or at the end of the day?"

Surprised, and a small bit touched, I said, "End of the day is fine. Thank you."

"It wasn't a problem. I thought you might need some help easing into school again. Now, you can take the computer period as a free one. The advance class, which you tested into, already has an assignment, but you can't start it with out the reading."

"Thank you."

I spent the class on the cape wiki. The dogs had to have been from Bitch, PC name Hellhound. I was surprised they didn't try Heckhound. She could turn dogs into those slavering monstrosities, and had a laundry list of crimes committed, starting from when she first triggered.

The suited lady turned up nothing. All I got were capes who wore suits, as in superhero suits, and a few odd ducks who actually wore suits, but none of them matched her looks or powers. A totally new cape, then? She was pretty powerful if she could win against that many other capes. Even I would have to be much more circumspect dealing with that many.

My page had expanded from a stub. Defiler, independent cape. It was also locked, unable to be modified without a mod's approval. Turns out, getting on the national evening news got some attention. Several forum pages complaining about the lack of information, speculation on me, my powers, and very gross things. Things that they shouldn't be saying about a kid. Squicked, I went back to the discussion of my powers. The official page just had Shapeshifting, and then nothing else. No mention of limits or preferred forms. I closed the browser as the class ended.

Off to history.


The lunch bell stopped me from drifting off. It was a close thing. Without books, I wasn't caught up, and was paying the price. I'd have to do some heavy studying to catch up. Greg, one of what I could loosely call acquaintances, had shared his books with me in class, but it wasn't the same as doing the reading. I stood, grabbing my notebook, making a beeline for the cafeteria, slipping through the flood of students as best as I could. No Emma or Madison in this class, so I should've gotten there before them.

Emma and Madison were standing at opposite ends of the doorway, blocking me from the cafeteria. In front of them, a crowd of quietly muttering students had formed, held back by whatever powers being a total backstabbing bitch gave you.

"So you finally showed your face again." Emma said, with Madison next to her. Behind her, I could see Sophia pushing through the lunch rush in the cafeteria to reach us. Great. Reinforcements arriving. I hadn't seen her all day, and she pops up now. Figures.

I walked through the doorway, pushing past Madison's elbow with ease. I could hear a hissy fit starting from Madison. Behind me, I heard Emma say, surprised, "Sophia?

"Taylor." Sophia said loudly, practically vibrating. Whether from anger or what, I didn't know, and I didn't care. I ignored her, but the room quieted further at our little drama. I walked to the lunch line, determined to give them nothing.

To my back, she said, louder still, "Or should I say Defiler?"


Wyld Hunt 3.10

I froze. The room froze with me, falling deathly quiet.

"Surprised I know?"

I burnt some energy from my inner pool and replied, "Surprised you are so crazy. Next, I'm sure you will out Emma as Alexandria."

No one else spoke.

"Crazy, maybe. But the PRT knows who you are."

Resisting my instinctual, 'What!' was hard.

"Of course," She said, waggling her arm – arm!- "I do have a grudge. You burnt off my arm."

"I burnt off your arm? That one, right there?"

"Uh-huh. Panacea, remember?"

I ignored her, moving down the line, staring at the lunch lady. She stared back at me. I lifted my tray, along with my eyebrows. She passed over a plate, mechanically. I slid my tray along.

"Ignoring me? Alright. Later, then. I'm just going to go tell your dad about you burning my arm off."

The tray slammed to a stop. The food, charitably called slop, fell off the plate and on to the tray.

I cracked the plastic rim of the tray in my hands.

"Too bad about your mom. I could tell her, but, I heard you killed her."

I turned, swinging my fist at her face. My knuckles collided with her cheek, and she staggered back. My followup swing to her stomach passed right through her as she turned into her shadow-state. She moved back, returning to her normal form.

"Well, I'll see you around, Defiler. Off to your dad."

I sprinted at her, silent as the room, fist cocked back. She met me with a kick to the side of my gut, and the breath exploded out my lungs. Collapsing to the floor, I skidded into a table with a wince. With a variety of shrieks and murmurs, the lunch crowd dissipated back to the edges of the room, and the attached hallways.

"Worthless cunt! I've been wanting to do this all week."

Catching my breath, I stood back up, furious. It didn't hurt, much, but that had surprised me. I didn't think she had a crossbow, but I couldn't beat her in a fist fight. I'd have to keep her here somehow. Even ten minutes would be enough, if I could buy that much time.

Fuck her. Fuck her. She was taking my dad from me. He'd hear about this before I could even talk to him. After everything I had done to break it to him the best way, and now this. And the PRT knew who I was? Had they told her? Were they just waiting to grab me? Just had to incapacitate her, and I could beat her to my dad, at least.

Fuck. Her.

"C'mon, Hebert. Or Defiler. At least if you put up a fight, I'd feel better about losing an arm to a little bitch who killed-"

I discorporated, reappearing to her side, hands together over my head, bringing them down on her head. My hands ignited, matching my anger, green flames haloing my fists. I snarled, "Burn."

My hands passed right through her.

"Nice try, but you can't pull the same fucking trick on me twice." She said, reforming from her shadow state, and punching me in the jaw.

I flinched back, instinctively. But it hadn't hurt, much. I leaned back forward, my fist glowing green as I returned the favor. Nothing. Again, the shadow state. I expected it, but it still surprised me when she slammed her elbow into my back, flooring me. That one hurt.

"That's it? The only reason you burnt me last time was luck."

A kick to the ribs as I was on the floor.

I couldn't hurt her, head on. Her shadow-state was invulnerable to anything I had. Anything any cape I knew had. Maybe Eidolon or Mryddin could hurt her, but I didn't have tenth of their abilities.

I kicked out to where I thought she was, and she tripped. My follow up heel to her face only phased through her. I pushed myself off the floor, away from where I suspected she would be. Behind me, I heard her foot come down where my head had been. I was so fucking angry. Everything, I had done, for nothing.

I led her to the back wall. I could feel hate simmering under my skin, ready to erupt. It was a feeling I knew well; impotency at being forced into a sub-par form. It was how I had gained wings and stone. But this, this was something more. I could assume the form I wanted, the form that expressed my rage.

I walked back, keeping her in view. Behind me, I could hear students rushing out of the way of our fight, away from the wall. Good. This was special, just for her. She looked at me backing away, and pulled a knife from her jacket. Her eyes showed nothing but hate for me. I responded in kind. I'd show her how much hate I had. She charged me, knife held low. I sprung my trap, twisting on my heel.

A wave of green flame, accompanied by a green flash expanded from me, and I knew she would go shadow. Shrieks of surprise came from the audience. Not now. I sprinted forward, straight at the wall, shoulder held low.

"Missed-" Sophia was cut off as I checked her, shoulder into her stomach, right into the wall. My shoulder, which had grown correspondingly larger to my now 20-foot tall frame, made of stone. We blew right through the wall, and I slammed her into the ground. Cinder blocks pinged off my back and wings as they fell down, sent high from the force we went through with. Around me, a green light blazed, pulsing with my heightened heart beat. The cloud of dust around us settled, showing Sophia at my feet.

"Fucking finish it, then." Sophia whispered, her chest caved in, limbs splayed. She looked like a broken bug. I turned away, horrified, reality crashing down like an icy wave. I had done that.

"Do it, damn it!" She hissed, never rising above a whisper. Coming from the hole in the cafeteria wall, students carefully stepped over broken cinder blocks, staying back. I could see Emma, pale, hands to her mouth. Sophia was dying. Had to be, with that much damage. I turned, walking towards the Docks. I had to find my dad. They'd call 911.

"Oh – I wonder what will happen," Sophia whispered, then spat blood, "If I attack your dad? Will Defiler stop playing around then?"

I stopped.

"Oh, you got mad again?"

She wouldn't attack him – what was I saying? She just outed and tried to actually kill me. No contest on that, this time. She would, wouldn't she.

"Still can't do it. It's fucking embarrassing that I lose to you."

I inhaled, green light dimming to a barely perceptible glow. I faced her, exhaling. A stream of hungry green flames rushed to her. Sophia barely had time to shout her surprise, before she was consumed with a roar.

Screams followed me as I flew away.


I dug a divot in the yard with my landing. It's pretty hard to see through tears. Stone shattered and blasted away from me, burning and scaring the lawn. I emerged, naked. My keys were gone, so I burnt the doorknob to slag, and kicked the door in. I didn't even bother stopping, even as I felt my feet pierced by splinters. I sprinted up the stairs to my room, dressing as I picked clothes out.

Hopping on one leg, the other stuffed down a jean leg, I pulled the ABB's wad of money out of the back of my dresser. It went in my pocket, along with various sundry change I had. I couldn't stay. Everyone and their uncle would be coming for me, and by extension, my dad. Better to think we had cut ties. To think we weren't close, that attacking or kidnapping or harming him was a fruitless approach. I stumbled down the stairs, forcing my feet into a pair of older sneakers. A grocery bag of clothes was thrown over my shoulder.

I pulled a knife from the carving block, and slashed it across the table, burning my words into it. Knife melted down to the handle, I dropped it below my slashes. I could hear sirens, coming closer.

I fled.

CHAPTER 3: END.


Interlude 3

The chair in the meeting room was designed to be comfortable. Thick, plush, and fancy. Danny Hebert was uncomfortable. He shifted, as the TV, facing him, talked about his daughter again.

"-and we still have not received an ID for our source, but the video does have an official stamp. As you can see in the video, Defiler, now known to be Taylor Hebert, the villain who killed the now outed Shadow Stalker, holding Vista hostage. We don't have audio for this video, but as you can see, she does scratch Vista twice. In addition, we can see Vista crying as she-"

Click.

"Mr. Hebert?"

Danny stood, turning. Director Piggot had walked into the door, along with a cape. A cape everyone knew. A tall, muscular man in a skintight blue outfit, with a white laser-like decal on his front. Legend. Director Piggot shook his hand, and said, "I'm sure you've seen him before, but this is Legend."

Danny shook Legend's hand, not saying anything.

"I'm sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances, Mr. Hebert."

Danny nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He sat back down, and Legend and the Director took seats opposite him. The Director slid a folder over to him. He opened it, and saw the header. Taylor Hebert/Defiler. He looked back up, not wanting to read it.

"Your daughter's file, Mr. Hebert. I suggest you read it, before everyone else misinforms you. Those are as close as we can get to the cold hard facts."

He read it. Things that had made no sense now made plenty. Why his daughter had been so aloof. Going out at strange hours, and coming back exhausted. Why she had been so desperate not to tell him. And why she had wanted to wait to tell him. For one single moment, Danny was glad Annette had passed on. This would have killed her.

His daughter, a murderer. A villain. He closed the folder, looking at Director Piggot.

"I want to start off, and say I am sorry, both for what you are going through, and how we have failed."

"I failed," Danny said, voice thick.

"Not alone. We made errors in judgment dealing with your daughter, and someone took advantage of those errors to prevent us from contacting her. As you saw in the file, yesterday, numerous villain groups just happened to be in the area to intercept either your daughter or myself. We do not believe these actions are a coincidence."

"Today, however, was a series of linked actions that resulted in Shadow Stalker's death. Shadow Stalker had been confined to quarters, due to her involvement in your daughter's kidnapping, followed by an unauthorized possession of deadly weapons. As you saw in the file, Shadow Stalker and Taylor fought last week, over unknown reasons. Due to her relationship with Shadow Stalker, we can't discount going after her for revenge, but we do believe that Shadow Stalker inflicted the first blow."

"This morning, Shadow Stalker, still confined to quarters, read your daughter's combined file from her room computer. Not only did she somehow gain access to files she shouldn't have been able to, her room received a phone call from a pay phone in the Bay. The caller used codes that only a handful of people know, in this building only, and bypassed every security measure. Not five minutes after the call ended, Shadow Stalker left the building."

She paused. "At which point, she went to your daughter's location, and provoked a fight. Contrary to what the news has speculated, we are certain your daughter did not start harassing her. However, she did choose to initiate the fight itself, and then, once Shadow Stalker pulled out a knife, crippled her. Shadow Stalker was down, probably dying."

Danny turned away. But she kept talking. "At which point, witnesses disagree. Some say they heard Shadow Stalker say something, others don't. We don't know. What happened after, however, we know. Your daughter exhaled a large amount of fire, and Shadow Stalker was consumed. We recovered a severely damaged corpse."

He nearly shouted at her, angry at everything. At his daughter, at Shadow Stalker, at himself. He'd always been angry, but the past weeks hadn't helped his temper. But she was just trying to help. Instead of ineffectually shouting, he asked, "How did she find out Taylor's identity?"

"We had it. The letter I had given to her, when both of you came in, to give to Defiler had a tracker and camera built into it. Armsmaster built it to see if we could gain intelligence on Defiler, who had been exceptionally cagey. When your daughter opened the letter, it triggered the camera, which then recorded her changing shape. At which point, we updated her file. But I stress again, only a Director of a team or higher could have had access to it. We are still investigating the catastrophic breach in security."

"So a Director gave my daughter's ID to her then?"

"At this time, we don't believe so. Whoever tried to interrupt our meeting on Sunday is the most likely culprit. He or she is responsible for sicking Shadow Stalker on your daughter."

Legend spoke up, "Yesterday, after we realized that a third party had been purposefully interrupting any attempted dialogue with your daughter, both myself and Alexandria came to town. We wanted to talk to her, especially about her future. Most of her actions indicated she want to be a hero."

"Unfortunately, I doubt we will be able to." The Director added.

"Why not," Danny stated.

"Washington and the media. Both have classified her as a villain, and everything I have told Washington has only raised their backs. And whoever leaked that video to the media didn't have either ours, or your daughter's best interests at heart. More than likely, whoever was also behind Shadow Stalker and Sunday. And I understand Washington's intransigence. National news is calling her a villain, and nothing we say can change that at this time, without serious costs."

"Cost! But she's not a villain!" Danny snapped, slamming his palms on the table.

"No," Director Piggot agreed. "I don't believe she is. But my hands are tied."

"So she will have heroes after her, now?" Danny asked, deflating.

"No," Legend interjected. "Internally, we are calling her an independent cape, and forwarding that to the Guild and our other allied organizations. And, trying to reestablish contact. If she keeps on the same path she set out on, engaging only gangs and villains, we can bring her in, effectively redeeming her, in a hopefully short period of time. Which is the final reason we called you here. Any method of contact you have, or if she contacts you, would be helpful, to her."

Danny remember what he had seen, in his kitchen, right before the PRT officers had escorted him here. He had covered with a table cloth, not wanting anyone else to see Taylor's message to him.

On his table had been four words, burnt into the top.

Cut ties. I'm sorry.

A/N: Lawlz. Couldn't help myself.