The costume was perfect.

After the death of Parian, Crystal had given me the number of a costume designer in Boston and I'd had Dad drive me there for an appointment. What she'd come up with made me incredibly pleased.

I'd wanted to create as much of a divide between my current identity and the identity the PRT was calling Charon. Since he was wearing black, I decided to keep the white I'd originally appeared in.

My new costume was made out of white leather with Kevlar inserts. I didn't really need that anymore but I'd heard there were people in the world who negated powers. If I met any of them I didn't want to be left unprotected.

The costume was composed of white leather pants and a white leather jerkin with a hood. I would continue to wear a kerchief over my mouth, but the designer suggested that I keep several different ones for different occasions. I would add a domino mask so that I would be even less recognizable.

An underlayer existed, both to make the outfit more comfortable and to help keep the costume clean. Sweaty leather probably wouldn't make me particularly popular.

The designer had a list of instructions for me about how to clean the costume and how to maintain it.

For the first time I actually felt like a superhero and not simply someone running around in a hoodie beating people.

"Is it everything you hoped for?" Dad asked as I slipped into the car. He'd been waiting a block away in the car for the last forty five minutes as I'd slipped away to the designers.

"Three thousand dollars and worth every penny," I said.

He winced, and I wondered how he would feel if I told him I'd gotten two outfits at that price. I wasn't exactly hurting for money, and even though he hadn't wanted to accept it, I'd slipped him money to help with the expenses.

We'd been paying cash for groceries and eating out a little more and he'd been leaving the money we weren't spending in the bank.

Buying a whole bunch of new things would have been a red flag that something was wrong, both for the authorities and for the criminals in our neighborhood. The last thing we wanted was to be seen carting in a big screen television, because I'd find the thirty thousand under my bed gone and people with questions at my door not long after.

We'd already been to a theatrical design company that sold body harnesses that let people do flying effects on stage. Using Rune's power on my shoes was uncomfortable, required me to bend down and took up two slots that could have been done in just one. The harness would fit under both my costumes and with it I'd be able to fly. The fact that it was another sixteen hundred dollars wasn't something I'd shared with Dad.

"Now to our next stop," he said.

I pulled off my white coat (I wasn't wearing my new costume in the car with Dad, even if I was in a different city) even as I began to focus on changing my body.

As we drove through the city I grew taller and more massive. From what I could tell no one had been able to tell the gender of my second identity and I intended to keep it that way. I focused on my face in the mirror of the sun visor.

Duplicating the faces of specific people had proven to be a difficult prospect. It required a level of exactness that I wasn't capable of yet. I suspected it had less to do with the power and more to do with my own lack of artistic abilities.

What I'd discovered was that getting a face subtly off was disturbing in a visceral way. It was disturbing and worrisome.

I could, however, take on generic faces. I did so, and by the time we'd driven halfway across the city I looked like a masculine figure, even though I hadn't changed my genitalia or my breasts, which were small enough to go unnoticed.

Making people believe my second identity was male would further the idea that we were two separate people.

I'd discovered that once I'd created a particular face and practiced it a few times I could switch into it fairly quickly. Creating a new face took a lot of work.

My plan was to subtly change my features even in my female identity so that I wouldn't be mistaken for Taylor Hebert. I'd make myself a little taller and a little fuller figured in that form to make me more unmistakably feminine to better contrast with my male form.

That it was a little flattering wouldn't hurt either.

Dad stopped two blocks away from the next location, stopping in an alley. I slipped out of the car and quickly made my way to the motorcycle shop in question. My body in this form was the size I planned for my Charon form to take, even if the face was normal instead of horribly changed.

It took thirty minutes to find what I wanted; black motorcycle armor over which I would wear a black leather jacket and tight leather pants. The jacket had a black cloth hood; I didn't like including similar aspects to both costumes but I figured they were different enough that no one would notice.

I actually felt more dangerous in this outfit, more manly, whatever that felt like.

This time I stepped out into the sunlight wearing the outfit. It made me feel good and powerful, but it wasn't particularly distinctive without the changes to my face.

I headed back to the car, where Dad was waiting. He was listening to talk radio; I could hear people debating parahuman rights and responsibilities, something I was particularly interested in.

He looked at me for a long moment and then said, "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be taking my son to a leather shop."

I scowled at him and stuck out my tongue.

"I could have gotten a ball gag as part of the costume...I suspect that would have horrified people for all the wrong reasons."

His head snapped around. "When did you hear about?"

"I made the mistake of looking up leather outfits when I was trying to come up with a costume," I said. I winced. "I saw some things I'd rather not have seen. They certainly horrified me, but they probably weren't the image I was looking for."

He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "If you have any questions...?"

I shook my head quickly. "I don't really want to know. I really, really don't want to know."

Thinking about boys wasn't even on my radar; I had too much to worry about without having to deal with things of which I hadn't really understood the appeal.

Besides, I was still too busy playing with my new power to worry about anything extraneous. Every time I got a new power it was like Christmas.

This power in particular opened entire new worlds to me.

Being able to experience my internal physiology at all times meant that it was easy to get distracted so that I had to actively pay attention to what was going on around me. It was fascinating, and I had to resist the temptation to experiment in public. I could lift bone to the surface of my skin, create chemicals to help me heal burns...the possibilities seemed endless, even if none of them were as fast as I would like.

I'd almost died but the tradeoff was worth it. I now had the power I'd been craving, and it meant that I had the means to get more. All I had to do was find people.

Even if Hookwolf or some of the others could injure me I'd be able to heal if I got away. I no longer had to worry about my identity being revealed because I'd been injured by some petty thug the night before.

I worried a little about my Escrima lessons. I'd have to fake my reactions to being hit, and it was possible that he might see right through it. However, I secretly suspected that my teacher already suspected something. Very few girls my age were out trying to use sticks and knives in combat, whatever lies my father had told him.

There was an assessing look in his eyes sometimes. I wondered if the lack of pain would make the training go faster or if it would impair it. My teacher told me that pain made things memories more vivid, and I suspected that it was true.

I wasn't going to completely depend on my fear sense; there were sociopaths among the Empire Capes who likely didn't feel fear at all. I doubted that Oni Lee or Lung did either.

The Merchants might be too intoxicated or high to feel fear, especially their Capes.

Dad kept looking at me, and I could tell that my new power was making him uneasy. He was obviously trying to be supportive, but seeing his daughter's face warp into that of a monster had to be disturbing to him.

I planned to change my face and body on the way back to Brockton Bay, hopefully not disturbing him too much.

I didn't bother telling him how much this outfit cost; I'd bought four of them since they were so much cheaper than the others. I expected these to get much more damaged than the others anyway.

Almost seven thousand dollars had been spent this trip, and yet I didn't feel it had been badly spent. Impressions were everything in the superhero game, and according to Crystal people looked down on heroes who had cheap costumes. They assumed they were newbies.

How people afforded costumes without literally robbing people like I had been I wasn't quite sure.

"You want to get something to eat?" Dad asked.

I nodded. Boston had places to eat that Brockton Bay didn't, and so it was going to be a rare treat to eat someplace new.

Before be could discuss it I heard a sound that made my stomach drop.

Blaring through the air was the sound every person on Earth was familiar with, the sound that no one wanted to hear. Sirens blaring, I could see people already beginning to panic.

The location of the next attack hadn't been announced yet, and so everyone was afraid. The fact that the Endbringer sirens were ringing meant that the attack was in the area. There wouldn't be a lot of time to get to a shelter.

We all knew exactly where the Endbringer shelters were, both in our neighborhoods and in other parts of our city.

Unfortunately we weren't in our city. Boston was unfamiliar to me and Dad, and neither of us knew where the shelters were. I didn't even know where the Protectorate was in this city.

"We've got to get you to s shelter first," I told Dad. "I won't be able to go out there until I know you are safe."

"You don't have to go," Dad said.

I felt the intoxicating feeling of fear filling me with strength. Considering that I was already powerful, I knew I was strong enough to throw cars by this point.

"I get stronger the more people are afraid. People are never more afraid than when the Endbringers are attacking," I said. "I can save a lot of people."

"You could die," he said. "Nobody is as strong as an Endbringer. Even Alexandria is at risk from her."

"I could be."

At his look I shook my head. "Maybe not now, but eventually. Some of my powers multiply my other powers and make them stronger. I may be the only person who actually can stop them."

"That's an even better reason for you not to get killed now," he said.

"I don't have a choice," I said. "People are going to be dying, and if I could have saved them but just stayed where it was safe, what kind of hero would I be?"

He looked like he wanted to argue, but I could see cars crashing as panicked people made multiple errors in judgment trying to get away home to their families or to save themselves.

Endbringer alarms were sounded not just to civilians to go to shelters, but as a call to heroes and villains to come fight. The Protectorate didn't exactly have the villains' numbers and the villains wouldn't have trusted them with the numbers if they did.

The entire world waited with baited breath until the city that was being targeted was being announced.

Dad pulled over quickly. It was apparent we weren't going to be able to go anywhere in the car until this was all resolved. The only reason we were able to find a parking space was the fact that panicked people were trying to leave.

We got out of the car and watched for where people were running. The city natives would know where the local shelters were and the tourists would be following them, just as we planned to do.

I grabbed Dad's hand, and I could feel his fear along with that of everyone else in the city. I was wearing the flying harness; I'd wanted to make sure it would fit in the motorcycle outfits I was planning to wear. I could take us both flying over the city and I'd have been able to see where everyone was going, but carrying Dad it would have risked revealing my identity to someone.

People were running all around us and I could see children crying in the chaos, separated from their parents before people picked them up and went running. Hopefully the people who picked them up were their parents, but there was no way of knowing.

There was a way of knowing where the shelters were, I realized. I pulled Dad into another alley and I closed my eyes. I could sense the fear of everyone in a seven block radius, which meant that I could track the movements of tens of thousands of people.

"What?" Dad asked, but I held up a hand.

There. I could sense a place where everyone was congregating. People were clumping together in one spot, a place I knew had to be an Endbringer shelter.

"I found it," I said.

We ran then, me pulling Dad behind me, but as we reached the shelter they were already pulling the doors shut.

"We're full," someone shouted from inside. "Go to the shelter on 9th street."

People were screaming to be let in, but I knew it was useless. The people inside were afraid, and from what I could feel the shelter really was filled with a mass of humanity.

We ran again. Hopefully not spending time arguing with the people closing the doors would leave us time to get Dad into one of the shelters.

I was deeply conscious of the time. By the time we reached the second shelter twenty minutes had passed. They were already closing the doors, but I pushed Dad forward.

He tried to pull me in with him, but I was strong enough now that he would have had better luck trying to pull a truck.

The doors shut with finality, and I looked around and saw that the streets were quickly emptying around me. The few stragglers were already running, presumably for the next shelter.

I allowed my face to switch into the skull like face I'd decided on for my other identity and I reached inside my jacket, moving my hands in a familiar set of movements over the harness.

A moment later I was in the sky. To my pleasure, the harness worked beautifully.

I wasn't entirely sure I wanted this identity around the heroes and villains. Part of its power was the mystery and fear I was trying to generate and familiarity bred contempt. On the other hand, people might die in the time it took me to get back to the car and find a place to change. If that happened I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

It took me a moment to realize that I had no idea where the Protectorate base was in Boston. In Brockton Bay it was an obvious thing on the skyline, but Protectorate bases weren't all built the same.

I had a phone, though, and it was internet enabled. I looked around me looking for familiar golden arches. I knew that McDonald's had started offering free wifi just four years ago, and I'd been using it at various locations in Brockton Bay.

There were tall buildings everywhere and I couldn't see things the way I'd seen them in Brockton Bay.

I couldn't even stop and ask anyone for directions because the streets were looking like a ghost town by now. I didn't see anyone, although I could feel them gathered in their thousands.

It took me a moment to realize that I could use my fear sense to find the Protectorate, or at least the PRT. I just needed to find a gathering of people who were afraid who weren't huddled in a tiny area.

Five minutes passed as I flew over the city, weaving between buildings as I searched with my senses. Eventually I found it, a tall building surrounded by a large park, presumably so that battles wouldn't damage neighboring buildings.

I landed outside the entrance, where two nervous looking guards stood. Although they had masks covering their faces it was obvious in the way they were standing, in the way that their hands twitched on their weapons. The fact that I could feel their fear growing made it all the more apparent.

"I have come to serve vengeance on the Simurgh," I said. I'd altered my voice to sound deep and horrific.

They looked at one another and one reached for their earpiece, murmuring in a low voice.

Finally one of them turned to me and said, "The fighting started five minutes ago; there aren't any teleporters available to transport you."

I was simultaneously disappointed and relieved. Facing an Endbringer meant I had a very good chance of dying, yet this had to be what my powers were meant for. With the amount of fear I was feeling now I could do almost anything. In a city actually being attacked, I'd have the power of a god.

Was it wrong of me to desire to feel that, at least once?

Dad would be relieved, at least.

"Where?" I asked finally.

"Providence," one of the men said finally. He hesitated. "I don't recognize you. Who are you?"

Now that I knew I wasn't going I realized that giving my name would be the worst thing I could do. The last thing I needed was for Armsmaster and the rest of the PRT to know that I had been in Boston.

"Vengeance," I said dramatically.

I wasn't sure why I said it; I knew it was over the top as I said it. The men I was talking to seemed to take it seriously though.

Before they could ask me any more questions I soared into the air.

I decided to head back to the car and find a place to change back into my civilian clothes. It wasn't like anything was going to happen in the meantime. The Endbringer truce among capes was part of the unwritten rules, but there were legal issues related as well.

Crimes committed during Endbringer attacks were punished much more harshly than at other times. There had been issues in early years of people staying out of the shelters so they could loot, which made other people afraid to leave their homes, increasing the death rates.

Assaults during Endbringer attacks were punished especially harshly. During the stress of an attack, with huge masses of people trapped in tiny spaces it was easy to start brawls which could result in hundreds of injuries.

That being said, I could sense people in the city who weren't in the shelters; individual little dots of light in a vast sea of nothingness.

I was heading back to the car when I heard a boom. One of the buildings was on fire, and I could sense at least ten people inside.