AN: As some of you may have noticed, I changed the title/description. This is because due to a lack of inspiration for CoW, and an overabundance of other Worm idea's, I've decided to just throw them in together. I could explain more in depth why I did that, but it's late, I'm tired, and I just wanna go to sleep. No worries however, CoW will be continued.


Juggernaut I

On their millennia long travels throughout the vastness of the multiverse, the Warrior and the Thinker had come across many different kinds of beings, more numerous and different than the stars themselves.

Some were barely worth mentioning, boring, underdeveloped little things, with no hope of ever leaving a lasting mark on the history of the universe, and thus were passed over in their Quest; no shards could be harvested from these dregs of sapience.

They were the lucky ones.

There were other beings in the universe, ancient and mighty, who had been old when reality had been young. These beings were often regarded as gods by lesser creatures, and rightly so. The more powerful amongst them were a match even for the combined might of the Warrior's power and the Thinker's strategies.

In the end, they were all consumed.

From those they consumed, shards were formed, studied and grown.

One such entity, however, had been particularly odd in that aspect.

They had come across it in one reality which they had found was in possession of, and visited by, beings of such absolute power, even they had been on their guard. Powerful deities and sentient singularities, the Warrior and the Thinker had come across one such being, uniformly colored a vivid crimson, who called himself Cyttorak the Destroyer, the Demon of the Unstoppable.

The Warrior had certainly put that to the test.

With powers which shattered reality and tore dimensions asunder, the two waged battle, until the Thinker managed to devise a strategy for the Warrior to use, which ultimately lead to Cyttorak's defeat, though the Greater Demon did not die immediately.

Having suffered great wounds at the creature's power, both the Warrior and the Thinker took great pleasure in shaping Cyttorak's essence into one of their shards… while he was still alive.

However, instead of the horror-filled screams they had expected to hear crying out through the universe, they were simply met with a dark and sinister chuckling, dripping with such sheer evil and malice, no doubt any mortal would surely lose his sanity should he have heard the chilling sound.

"I know not of whence you came, or how you have acquired these powers… but rest assured, in the end, victory shall be mine, and you shall look back upon your folly with madness and despair!"

And with laughter coming from its teeth filled maw, Cyttorak perished, consumed by the Thinker.

Feeling the gaze of many more powerful entities upon them, the Warrior led the Thinker away, who apparently had trouble containing the new shard. As they left the dangerous reality behind, the Warrior asked the Thinker what was wrong, only to find out that in his final moments, Cyttorak had voluntarily siphoned his power into the shard of the Thinker.

Troubled by the implication, they quickly continued on their quest, the Warrior forging on ahead, the Thinker following behind, wrestling with this new and powerful shard.

It would be their downfall.

Their fight against the Demon had taken its toll on the Warrior's mighty body, leaving him exhausted, even as he led the Thinker towards a new dimension of worlds, one that might prove fruitful to harvest, though its inhabitants were weak little creatures.

In his weakened state, he didn't notice that the Thinker's velocity was far too high as she approached the countless worlds until it was too late; by then, he simply did not have the strength to keep the Thinker's gargantuan body from slamming into an infinite amount of planets.

The Thinker herself, being fully occupied with the strange shard of Cyttorak, did not even see the worlds, until she was nearly upon them. She heard the Warrior's fearful cries for her to stop, and in a panic, she tried to do so.

Only to find that she couldn't.

Right as she was about to meet her end, a soft, insidious voice whispered in her mind.

'You fool. Have you already forgotten? I am Cyttorak! I am unstoppable!'

Before the Thinker could utter a curse, or even cry out in horror, her body slammed into the planet, as well as dozens upon dozens of its dimensional counterparts, smashing her immense form to pieces, and killing her on impact.

Amongst the vast number of shards flung into time and space, and even beyond, there was a single shard that stood out amongst its brethren.

For one, it looked far more like a large gem, rather than the slimmer, glass-like appearance of usual shards.

And second, it was a vivid crimson.

After all, Cyttorak was in need of a new host.

And it had found the perfect candidate.


Sophia Hess was a predator. She was strong, smart, beautiful, but more important than all that was the fact that she knew precisely where she stood on the totem-pole of the world; leagues above everyone else.

Those pathetic excuses for human waste in the gangs of Brockton Bay?

Her prey.

Those idiots in spandex, running around thinking they're doing any actual good, while being bogged down by "morals" and "regulations" so much, that they're more of a practical joke?

Prey as well.

Parahumans, of any sort?

Unless they can survive a crossbow bolt through their fucking heads, again, prey.

All of these people she hated. She didn't need any particular reason, she just did. Why? Because she was a predator, they were prey and that meant that in Sophia's mind, she could think of them and do to them whatever the fuck she wanted to.

But there was one person that Sophia absolutely loathed.

Taylor fucking Hebert.

Just even thinking about her made Sophia's skin crawl.

It wasn't even as if Taylor deserved such hatred because she had railed against her or something, hurled curses and abuse at her, or even flailed those thin sticks she called arms.

No, Sophia loathed Taylor fucking Hebert because the girl hadn't done any of that.

More than a year of daily abuse, and not a single counter-action.

She just stood there… and took it.

As if her prey mind simply couldn't even comprehend the possibility of standing up for herself.

She wasn't even fit to be called prey, really; after all, prey could become predator if properly motivated. Taylor fucking Hebert though would always, always, remain at the bottom of the foodchain, be the runt of the litter, the scraps at the bottom of the barrel.

Sophia loathed Taylor fucking Hebert, because the beanstalk of a girl was the physical manifestation of everything Sophia despised.

Which led to the here and now; she, Emma and Madison had just pushed the stupid cow inside her locker, which they had filled with the nastiest shit they could get their hands on. It had been a disgusting job, getting it all in there, but it had been worth it; just the expression on that stupid girl's face was priceless.

Briefly she worried whether or not this would attract attention of the PRT, but she dismissed it easily enough; none here at Winslow would tell, and even if they did, who cares about the PRT anyways? She could always just go rogue again.

They didn't even have to worry about their victim going to the authorities; not only was it unlikely that Taylor fucking Hebert would talk, she was far too passive for that, but even if by some miracle she did, Emma's father was a lawyer, and the Hebert's were poor.

All they had to do was let Emma threaten the cow with a single phone call and Taylor fucking Hebert would take this day to the grave with her.

And if the locker became her grave?

'Well, good riddance.' Sophia thought gleefully, before turning to her two partners in crime.

"C'mon, let's go, before-"

Sophia never got to finish her sentence, because with a thunderous clap, the door of Taylor's locker was smashed outwards, embedding itself deeply into the row of lockers on the opposite side of the hall.

A small part of her mind noted the fact that in the center of the door, there seemed to be a fist-sized imprint.

With a loud screech of tearing metal, the frame of the locker (and as such, those of its neighbor's as well) was ripped apart by bare hands. Out of the mangled wreckage of Taylor's locker stepped the largest woman Sophia had ever seen.

Well over seven feet tall, the giantess was covered in enormous muscles, yet remained a definitely feminine appearance, putting Emma's model-figure to shame. This was certainly helped by two massive mammaries, who were now straining against what appeared to be the armored cousin of the leotard.

Red bands of what appeared to be some kind of thick metal wrapped around the amazon's knuckles, wrists, and biceps, while a helmet covered Taylor's head, leaving her face bare.

And it was Taylor.

Sophie knew the giantess before her was somehow the same person as the meek little girl she'd been bullying for the past year, even as her mind simply refused to believe it, refused to accept it.

'The bitch triggered! Why!? She's not supposed to trigger, she's Taylor fucking Hebert, she's powerless!' her mind screeched, unable to cope with reality suddenly turning on its head.

The amazon, completely clean, Sophia absently noticed, took one great stride forwards, a heavy thud ringing through the now silent hallway as the knee-high boot landed solidly on the floor, cracking it slightly.

'Brute, definitely.' Sophia thought, getting more worried each second.

Emma, however, seemed completely oblivious to the hostile air hanging around the newly transformed Taylor, walking towards her with a big smile on her perfect face, though it paled somewhat to Taylor's new one; still recognizable as being hers, even without glasses, but without any imperfection whatsoever, to the point of unnaturalness.

"It worked! Oh Taylor, I'm so glad it worked! I was starting to get worried, you know, that perhaps you would always be prey, but in the end it worked! You're not prey anymore Taylor! We can be friends again, now that you're strong like me, and-"

Emma was cut off as one arm, as thick as Sophia's thigh, slammed into her side, making her fold around it like a wet towel with an awful crunching sound, before she was launched into one of the lockers lining the hallway, smashing in the door with her mangled body.

Taylor hadn't paused in her advance.

In fact, it seemed as if she was speeding up.

Sophia was suddenly gripped by a terrible sense of foreboding, having the distinct impression that if Taylor were to really get going, nothing would stop her.

So she ran.

She could feel disgust welling inside her, leaving a bitter taste at the back of her tongue as she ran away like… like… like prey! Behind her she could hear heavy footfalls pick up speed, shaking the walls with each thunderous step.

A wet smack and a girlish scream suddenly cut off, and Sophia knew that Taylor had gotten to Madison as well. She increased her speed, only to feel her blood turn to ice as she heard the footsteps pick up the pace as well.

Even faster than she had.

Taylor Hebert was gaining on her.

'What do I do, what do I do?! I can't go Shadow, can I?! Maybe I have to if-'

The decision was taken from her as she felt something impossibly heavy impact her upper arm, turning the bone there into dust, dislodging it entirely and break just about every rib on that side, as well as shake around her insides until she was pretty sure everything had ended up somewhere else.

And that was just the impact of the fist itself.

The rest of the blow took her clear off her feet and propelled her hard enough at the wall that she dented it with her body; despite it being made of stone.

Sliding down to the floor in a mangled and broken heap, Sophia felt something that went beyond mere pain, and it radiated from every part of her body, inside and out. She wanted to scream in agony, but found out that she couldn't.

Or she already was, but she'd simply gone deaf from the blow.

Blearily and hazy from the unbearable pain, she looked up at the looming from of Taylor fucking Hebert standing tall over her, a single thought shooting through her brain, before blissful unconsciousness claimed her;

'I'll get you for this, Hebert, even if it is the last thing I do.'


Taylor stared at the broken mess that was once a proud Sophia Hess for a long second, before turning away. The red haze of rage had abated, but it wasn't completely gone; there was still a sense of anger, a wish to fight, or simply destroy heavily present in her mind.

She knew she should be worried at such a clear foreign influence on her psyche, but she honestly just couldn't bring up the effort to be.

Even though she should be exhausted, physically or mentally, Taylor felt fine. Better than fine, in fact, except for the new, violent urges of course.

Groans of pain drew her attention to the hallway she and Sophia had just dashed through.

Well, she had dashed.

Sophia, on the other hand, had looked as if she was moving through molasses.

The hallway was a mess; the filth inside her locker, now without a door to keep it contained, was flowing into the corridor. On the opposite wall of the disgusting wreckage, was her locker door, firmly planted into the other lockers, an imprint of her fist clearly visible in the deformed metal. Then there was the broken form of Emma, sticking out of a locker herself, and Madison, who lay in a trampled mess in the middle of the hallway.

She wasn't the only one though; while she had stepped on Madison a little more often than had been strictly necessary, others had been injured as well by her mad sprint; people holding shoulders, elbows and legs in pain where she had either brushed past them, or simply shoved them out of her way.

Looking from the large amount of people she had hurt to her new Amazonian body (she had abs! And biceps! And boobs!) Taylor couldn't stop herself from letting out a weary chuckle.

"Guess there goes any hope of having secret identity, huh?"


Fun Fact: Apparently, at every Endbringer attack, Wilblow would throw a dice for each character; low numbers meant you were dead (or severely wounded), high number meant you got to live. This included everyone, even the Triumvirate and even Taylor herself! Should she have died, then Weld would've become the next protagonist. Which means Taylor can not only survive everything in-universe, but on a meta-level as well. That's hardcore.