As I had done for the past few weeks, I didn't sleep that night. Instead I simply sat in bed, trying to read the microfilm Jor-El had sent with me. Despite my best efforts, however, I found myself unable to seriously dig into the legacy of an entire world resting on my lap. Something far more terrestrial was on my mind, namely the matters of someone named Amy Dallon.
Amy's infatuation should have been obvious. The temperature of her skin, the beating of her heart, the near-indiscernible dilation of her pupils whenever I was around her. The signs were all there, ready to be pieced together, but they were all things that I disregarded or simply paid no attention to.
I could see things everyone else could only dream about, and yet I could be so blind.
What was she thinking right now, lying in bed? A recognizable heart beating in the distance told me she was still awake; was she agonizing over what had happened just a few hours ago?
I toyed with the possibility of visiting her, to sort things out between us and establish what we really felt, but I realized that I would be seen by her family. Besides, something told me that she didn't want to see me at the moment. I rose out of bed and began to pace about the room, trying to think of something. Normally I would be going out in costume and cleaning up the streets, but that night seemed more quiet than usual. Coupled with the fact that the Wards and Protectorate was patrolling the city, I was left with virtually nothing to do.
I turned my gaze upwards, focusing on the waxing crescent of the Moon. As I did so, a funny thought struck me.
Did I need to breathe?
I recalled my fight with Lung in the warehouse. During our battle, I had spent much of it within arm's length of him and his fire, yet I hadn't noticed the lack of oxygen that would have resulted from me being wreathed in flame. Jor-El had said something about the sun's light providing me the powers I had; was it possible that it was my only required source of energy?
Well, there was only one solid way to find out. Silently, I crept out of my window and floated into the air, making sure that no one was actually around to watch me. Then, I launched straight up, a somehow-muted sonic boom blasting around me as I rocketed into the dark skies above me. I soared ever higher and higher, soon breaking the cloud cover and dampening my hair with mist. I pushed my speed as hard as I felt I could, entering that state of heightened reflexes in which time seemed to flow like molasses.
The air was already getting thinner and I could feel a strange pressure growing in my ears and behind my fingernails as I left Brockton Bay beneath me. While I had kept my jaw shut tight, I became aware of something almost like the whistling of a tea kettle as tufts of air escaped past my nostrils and froze into thin snow. This was it, then, the time to open my mouth and find out the truth. If I began to gasp futilely for air while seeing dots, then I could simply fly back down and avoid high-flying.
With only a moment's hesitation, I unclenched my jaw.
A plume of white rushed out of my throat as my lungs emptied in less than a second; coating my face with a thin layer of frost. I half-expected myself to start seeing dots as my brain starved for precious oxygen, but instead I felt... nothing. Aside from a weird pressure at my nails and ears, and a empty feeling in my chest, I felt perfectly fine. Elation flooded me as I realized that I, Taylor Hebert, was in space.
I simply hovered there for a few moments, adjusting to the strange sensations of the void, before deciding to fly higher. I had no way to tell how fast I was going without any air resistance to gauge it by, so I decided to stop after a minute or so of rising. The stars were visible, a dazzling multitude of lights that shone in a vast array of colors and dominated the sky around me. I watched them for lord knows how long, wondering which one I came from. Of course, that was something I could do from the ground with my kind of eyesight, but there was something different about doing it when I was actually in space.
After I had my fill of stargazing, I decided to turn my attention down below. As I did so, an inaudible gasp escaped from my lips and faded into the void.
It was beautiful. There was simply no other way I could truly describe the sight of the world beneath me, slowly spinning about in its never-ending cycle around the sun. A vast multitude of colors presented themselves to me, swirling and scintillating into incomparable patterns that just clicked together. I could see heat waves billowing up from the swirling seas, radio beams bouncing off the ionosphere as they crisscrossed the globe, and the distinct patterns of life itself. If I focused my vision, I could see wildfires raging in the Rockies, or see a man enjoy a cup of coffee in Quebec before the thunderstorms in the distance finally arrived. It was as if I had opened my eyes for the first time and found the roof of the Sistine Chapel greeting me. A tuft of frozen mist escaped from the corner of my eye, the closest thing I could have to a tear.
I had never felt so small in my life before.
The sun was making itself known as well, emerging out from behind the disc of the world and flooding the landscape below me with its light. A warm sensation crept across the half of me that faced it, and I had to repress a silent groan of pleasure as I took in the radiation without the diluting affect of the atmosphere. It felt good.
I stayed there, hovering in the sun's light, until the brief 45-minute day came to an end and flooded me back into relative darkness. Feeling a lot better than I had been just a few short hours ago, I decided to descend back to the ground before Dad woke up.
As I did so, I couldn't help but notice a growing warmth behind my eyes.
S
Something was wrong; that much I could tell as I returned to Earth. The countless radio waves that tangled themselves around the word had changed somehow; some of them were weakened or gone, while others had grown in strength. It wasn't just around Brockton Bay, or even the state, it was everywhere. A sinking feeling formed in my gut as I finally settled down on my lawn; I had seen something like this many times before.
Endbringer attack.
There was no time for subtlety now. I blasted upwards from my lawn, leaving my sweatshirt and glasses on the grass as I sped towards Protectorate HQ. If the public knew that an Endbringer was attacking, then it was for certain that the Protectorate knew which one it was and where it was heading.
S
"Ames, get up," Victoria said, gently nudging her sister.
"Whooza?" Amy inquired groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she rose. "What's going on?"
"Endbringer attack," Victoria replied, turning Amy's blood to ice in her veins. "Mom got an alert about it ten minutes ago. It didn't say which one it is or where it's gonna hit, but you know they'll need you."
Wide awake now, Amy sprang out of bed and began to hurriedly put on her uniform. "Are we going over to fight?"
Victoria shrugged. "They didn't tell me. If it's Leviathan or Behemoth, then probably."
Amy gulped nervously, trying to ignore the growing swarm of butterflies in her stomach."Why are we going now? I thought only Uncle Neil and Aunt Sarah went to these fights."
"Maybe the lack of gangs to fight is making Mom and Dad edgy?" Vicky offered, trying to inject some humor into the situation. Seeing that it did nothing to alleviate the look of terror on her sister's face, she decided to up the power on her field by a slight amount. "Come on, we'll be fine."
As Amy followed her sister out of the room, a thought struck her.
Taylor will be there.
S
Armsmaster watched as Miss Militia and Velocity helped a squad of PRT officers load equipment onto a special shuttle designed by Dragon, his face grim. He had fought the Endbringers on six separate occasions, but the feeling of dread he felt facing them never faded in the slightest.
"Dragon," he asked in a quiet tone, "what's the current ETA?"
"Assuming that we've accurately determined which one is actually attacking, it appears that the attack will occur in approximately two and a half hours," Dragon replied curtly. "I'll be over there as soon as I finish the latest upgrades."
"Pray that it'll be quick enough," he told her.
A gust of wind suddenly brushed against his face, drawing his attention to the right. To his surprise, the Hebert girl was standing a few feet away, her face pale. She was in her uniform, her symbol gleaming in the morning sun. He briefly considered asking her about the cape, but dismissed the thought. There was enough on his plate as it was.
"Which one is it?" she asked in an overly confident tone, trying and failing to mask just how nervous she actually was.
Armsmaster paused for a moment before finally answering. "We have reason to believe that it's the Simurgh," he replied. "She's been stirring slightly for the past three days; it's what she usually does before she actually descends to the ground. If our calculations are accurate, then she's most likely going to descend in Paris."
"You're going to need all the help you can get," she said. "I'll go."
"We can't simply bring everyone available to a Simurgh fight," Armsmaster retorted tersely. "She specializes in subtly manipulating people into time bombs; you'd have to undergo a psychological examination before we even consider letting you come with us." He sighed before continuing. "I understand that you want to help, but you have to understand that you could prove to be an incredibly dangerous liability should it turn out that you are susceptible to her machinations."
Taylor's face fell, understanding just what he meant by that. "I see."
"If you still want to contribute, we'll need warm bodies to help with recovery," he told her, tossing her an armband. "One of its functions is a communicator; it'll tell you when the Endbringer has retreated and you can come in."
Taylor nodded. Armsmaster turned away from her and headed for the shuttle, his halberd gripped tightly. Miss Militia and Velocity joined him; they were the only other Protectorate members who had passed the psychological exams. Together they boarded the shuttle, the door shutting forcefully behind them.
He found himself wondering if he was going to survive lucky number seven.
S
I watched the shuttle take off at speeds impossible for non-Tinker aircraft, then sighed to myself. As much as I hated to admit it, Armsmaster was right about me being a liability for a Simurgh attack. The thought of someone like me becoming a weapon in her employ was one I didn't want to entertain. Still, it didn't feel right to me, staying behind like that.
Casually twiddling around with the armband, I gave it a good once-over. It was amazingly well-made, and sturdy to boot; I could easily understand why Dragon was considered one of the world's premier Tinkers. I slide it over my wrist and activated it. Though Armsmaster had neglected to tell me how to use it, I managed to get a good handle on its functions after a minute or so of experimentation.
The display activated, showing two words: State Name.
What should I go by? I considered going with "Zara", but I realized that it would be confusing for anyone in the Protectorate coordinating rescues. Groaning inwardly, I knew what I had to say.
"Supergirl," I reluctantly spoke into the armband. I confirmed the name and let my arm fall to my side with a light scowl. My gaze fell upon the horizon, and I decided to peer through the massive layers of ocean and rock hiding Paris from me.
As I did so, however, I saw something that sent a chill down my spine.
"Fuck," I muttered.
S
Legend surveyed the crowd of capes, both hero and villain alike, with a slight frown on his face. It was much smaller than usual; the psychological screenings necessitated by the Simurgh's M.O. sifted out a large number of potential fighters. Too many, he felt. Though there were more capes coming in from overseas to reinforce the local teams, he knew that the average force fighting the Simurgh was a fifth of the forces levied against her older brothers. According to Dragon, it was most likely that the Simurgh would target the sanitation facilities that kept twelve million people safe from cholera and dysentery, as well as the Nogent nuclear reactor 75 miles away.
He looked around at the city surrounding him. The clouds overhead were dark and stormy, and Legend could feel the occasional drop of rain on his cheek. Despite the gloomy weather, the city still managed to dazzle him with its beauty. The idea of the Simurgh rendering it a quarantined hellhole was not a pleasing one.
Legend cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the crowd and silencing any further conversation. Eidolon and Alexandria stood on either side of him, as still as statues. "As many of you are aware of, we have strong reason to believe that the Simurgh has decided to target this city."
Murmurs, but nothing more. Legend wetted his lips before continuing. "If our calculations are correct, then we may only have an hour to prepare for her attack. If any of you have fought her before, please st-"
He was interrupted by the buzzing of his armband, the frequency suggesting that it was the emergency channel. Legend frowned as he raised the armband so that he could see what the display said.
NOT SMURF
Legend's eyes narrowed. What the-
Someone descended onto the ground near him with alarming speed, kicking up dust as the flier came to a halt. Alexandria moved to intercept the cape, but Legend managed to raise a hand in time to halt her advance. Something told him he already knew who it was.
Supergirl emerged from the cloud, her red cape billowing in the wind. "It's not the Simurgh!" she exclaimed. "She's tricking us like usual!"
Before Legend could ask what she meant by that, he received an answer when the ground rumbled. Slowly, but steadily, it increased in intensity to the point where the buildings around them began to wobble slightly. Two hundred or so feet to his right, the nearby street suddenly exploded upward, sending massive chunks of debris flying into the air. The gathered capes were already in action, catching the larger pieces with forcefields or their own bodies, Supergirl among them.
A massive shape emerged from the crater in the ground, its hulking frame obscured in smoke and dust as it crawled to its feet. It was around 45 feet or so in height, though it would be taller if it could stand up straight. Massive obsidian horns formed a gnarled and macabre crown on its head, surrounding a singular eye that pierced the smoke with a flaming orange light.
A sinking feeling formed in Legend's stomach. Oh no, he thought to himself with growing dread.
Raising its head as high as it could, Behemoth roared.
A/N: And so, Supergirl finds herself in the ring with the reigning heavyweight champion, BEHEMOTH! Will she survive? Tune in next time!