Two weeks post-capture of Bakuda.

"So what do you have to report?" Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown asked, her voice slightly tinny over the phone.

Piggot sighed. "It's a mess, Chief Director. Total deaths accounted for so far are eight hundred and sixty-three. Tentatively, four thousand injured. The city's got a lot of infrastructure damaged or outright destroyed. The Zeearie Corp building was destroyed, as was the Reliant Enterprises headquarters. A number of more conventional explosives went off. Fires are being handled by the fire services, as well as ourselves, but...there's a lot of damage, here. The city's going to be suffering economic woes no matter what happens."

"Unfortunate, but at least the situation seems to be over with. I've diverted Protectorate resources to assist with finding and dismantling Bakuda's bombs. Dragon will be key, she can afford to lose suits if they're trapped to the point where she can't safely disable them."

"Agreed. I've already got a report on the analysis of some of those bombs. Apparently, quantum-linked triggers. If Scarlet Knight had killed Bakuda instead of capturing her, they all might have gone off. As it is, though, with her in Knight's custody, we can concentrate on the bombs themselves before we ask for their maker. If the reports are true, the pocket dimension could be used as an alternative to the Birdcage, but...that relies on factors I don't like. The big one being Scarlet Knight herself."

There was a moment of silence as some papers ruffled in the background. "What about her? She seems to be a very versatile cape, and would be well welcomed in any Protectorate team. She's been helpful in almost every situation since she's appeared. Have you any success in getting her into the Wards?"

Piggot shuddered, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "It's not simply the versatility, Director. It's the strength and versatility of her powers. Any one of them would make a decent cape. Her teleportation alone could be used to attack or infiltrate places. I have a list here on her powers currently observed or reported upon. Teleportation. self-biokinesis, when she crafts weapons or armor out of her blood. Changer/Breaker state when she turns into a swarm of bats. Increasing Brute rating, at first it was barely more than human, now it's at least a seven. Some form of thermokinesis. I watched her form frost on a conference table right in front of me, and she's been observed using fire as a weapon, as well. Master rating given during the crisis, she used a few thousand bats as a diversion when the PRT building was under attack. And now she's apparently got the ability to open portals to her own personal pocket dimension, which has either projections or inhabitants. I'm not sure which is worse."

Costa-Brown took a moment to consider that. "Yes, I read about this 'Alucard' that emerged after the claim of the capture of Bakuda. She's developing these abilities over time, however, and that is quite worrying."

"Indeed. If she continues gaining strength at this rate, I'm concerned that nothing in the Protectorate might be able to stop her if she went villain. Worse, she used her pocket dimension to apprehend Bakuda, who was hiding in her own pocket dimension."

It took no time at all for the Chief Director to make the connection. "She might be able to breach the Birdcage if she felt like it, if that's the case. There are defenses against that kind of thing, but powers are somewhat unpredictable. An ordinary pocket dimension shouldn't be able to reach another like that. We'll need to test them."

Piggot hummed a little, her voice full of consideration. "I had the same concern, Director. I've been cooperative with her up to this point, and I intend to continue to do so as long as she remains reasonable. However, I am very worried of the possible fallout if someone manages to Master her, or if she ceases to be reasonable. I want to get her into the Protectorate, but I have very little legal leverage, and putting pressure on her may backfire and cause the exact scenario I'm worried about. And, depending on just how many of these...whatever she might have in her pocket dimension, we might end up with another Ellisburg situation. One 'inhabitant' we can handle, but if she has an army in there... It's another reason I'd rather not demand Bakuda from Scarlet Knight until after the bombs are accounted for."

"Then we work carefully. I think I will send someone to help try and smooth things over. How is Armsmaster? His injury report is concerning."

Piggot sighed. "Stable. The cauterization saved his life, but it wasn't done very well. If he hadn't gotten medical attention right away, infections might have killed him. At the moment, Panacea is rather busy working to save the most critically injured, and so while Armsmaster's stable, he's not a high priority. It would take weeks for Armsmaster get back on his feet, just from needing to take in enough biomass to form new legs. Dragon's offered to help construct prostheses for him to use, instead. As for the rest of my staff...the damage here's pretty extensive. I lost twenty-nine personnel during the attack here. We may need to have the top floors rebuilt."

"Very well. Thank you for your report, Director Piggot. Good work." There was a click, and the line went dead.

Piggot set the phone down, then brought up an audio file on her computer, tapping her chin as she listened.

"What do you see when you look at Scarlet Knight?"

Gallant's voice replied, full of both confusion and discomfort. "I see a black void, surrounded by a bright corona. The corona lights up with whatever she's feeling at the moment, but it's painfulto look at her directly. It's like looking into the heart of an infinite abyss. It's both extraordinarily bright and horribly, scarily dark. She's a black hole."

Rebecca Costa-Brown hung up the phone. She licked her lips, considering as she tapped her fingers on her desk. She spent a long few minutes doing so, her mind working through the scenarios. Finally, she nodded to herself and put her office on lockdown. Metal shutters closed over the windows, space-warping Tinker tech activated, giving the office the size of a breadbox. At least, from the outside. It was one of the few reliable ways of preventing various teleporters from getting inside.

"Door." She called. An orange octagon formed in the air, the space in the center showing a conference room. Without hesitation, she strode through.

"Any luck?" She asked the three figures sitting at the table. Eidolon, the most powerful parahuman on the planet, second only to Scion himself. At least, by public perception. Doctor Mother, she who spent so much of her life on making all this possible. And Contessa, their best chance at ensuring there would be a human species in the next century.

Doctor Mother shook her head. "Scarlet Knight is not one of ours. She has no connections to purchase a formula, nor can we trace any path where she might have acquired one. A few have gone missing over the years, but our post-cognitives can't find anything before her 'death' in January."

Rebecca nodded. "What about after that? Could someone have stolen her corpse, revived her, perhaps with Bonesaw's skills or some equivalent, and given her a formula?"

Contessa shook her head. "No. I've attempted to find someone with the requisite criteria. Nobody. Anywhere. More concerning is... " She tilted her head. "The Path to Victory changed vastly when she awoke. It took until now to discover who was at the cause of that. I can't model her directly. I have to build a mental model which is very much like this Scarlet Knight to be predictive. Even then, it is imperfect, I need more information."

Eidolon frowned. "That sounds familiar. Could she be another one?"

Doctor Mother grimaced. "I hope not. Though if she was, she likely would have made contact by now. Scion doesn't seem to have noticed. We'll have to keep an eye on the situation as it develops. She just might be a powerful asset."

Alucard breathed the night air, looking around him with wonder. "So much steel and glass. Your metalsmiths and glassworkers must live like kings."

Victoria gently smacked his arm, chuckling. "Come on big guy. And keep your coat buttoned up. Most people wear shirts, you know."

He looked down at himself, then back to Victoria. "But I am comfortable. I do not feel cold at all."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but...well, social mores, Al." She grinned as a couple walked by them in the opposite direction, both of them doing a double-take at the pale man with his coat open.

Very carefully, Alucard tied his coat together. It obviously hadn't been done for a very long time, with some of the loops for the leather straps torn to the point of unusuability.

Victoria nodded. "There. A bit better. You should have that looked at, you know. How old is it?"

He shrugged. "Some four hundred years or so. I am unsure, to be honest. It doesn't age when I am in my wolf shape, and I was in that form for quite some time. It's not exactly easy to measure."

Victoria nodded, then smiled. "Well, it's due for a bit of fix-up. I know someone who should be able to help you out. You and I are going to the mall!"

Alucard tilted his head. "What is a mall?"

When they arrived, he had his answer. "Ah. The merchant's quarter."

Victoria took her time going through the crowd. Alucard noticed he was getting some odd looks, but it was actually somewhat refreshing. Most people seemed apprehensive as they looked at him, rather than turning and running, screaming 'Vampire, vampire!'

They were about to come up to a leather sewing shop, when Victoria paused and looked at him. "Um...can you form a shirt? Red just shifts her clothes into whatever she wants."

He blinked. "I must admit I cannot do such a thing."

She sighed and turned on her heel. "Great. We got to get you a shirt first. Otherwise, you'll be walking around shirtless while we get your coat fixed up."

So they started to go in a new direction, and the lights suddenly turned out.

There was a crackle, then the mall's general address speakers came online. "Good evening, shoppers. Forgive the interruption on your shopping needs. As our compensation, we will be having a show here tonight! Brought to you by Uber-"

"And Leet!"

"-your favorite rogues. Spicing up the dull pace of life here in Brockton Bay!"

The mall's security doors shut, trapping a a few hundred shoppers within. People began smacking at the doors, while Victoria and Alucard stayed calm.

Victoria began muttering. "Oh come on, they pull this now?"

Zombies began coming out of the mall's maintenance hallways. Alucard frowned. "They have no scent."

Victoria shrugged. "Relax. I know what's happening. Those zombies are kinda like ghosts. They don't really exist. Nobody's busted Leet's holo-projector yet."

"The theme for tonight is: Dead Rising! The lucky few survivors who kill the most zombies will get a prize at the end of three hours! Oh, and if you get taken down, we'll spawn a zombie in your place, so think real careful, people! Ready, set...well, it's already going, so good luck, participants!"

Alucard looked at Victoria. She shrugged. "Well, we've got to keep people safe, right?"

He nodded and summoned the Crissaegrim out of thin air. "We do, indeed."

Danny rested his head in his hands.

He hadn't been sleeping much, when Taylor had died. When she returned, though, he'd managed to recover some of his health. Each day had improved a bit on the last. Even his dreams, which had been filled with an immense sense of crushing failure, had begun to quiet. He had this strange sense of...satisfaction, somehow.

Even though his resurrected, changed daughter had given him enough stress to turn his hair white if he still had all of it.

The last few days alone had him worrying. When she'd gotten home, they'd spent a few hours together. Taylor reassuring him she was okay, and him trying so very hard to not lose his temper.

Beyond all that, though...he had the strangest feeling his life was turning around.

He looked over at his phone, letting out a sigh as he waited. It rang, he picked up.

"Hello Danny. It's Hannah. I was wondering if you were free this evening?"

Well. Maybe not that strange a feeling.

Neptune worked to douse another blaze.

The Protectorate hero was an enigma, even to himself. Case 53, most called him. It made sense, considering when they found him, he'd been busily trying to shape himself out of seawater in the shade under the Boardwalk, having used his powers to pull an otherwise hapless swimmer back to shore a moment before.

That was the first thing he remembered, trying to save a life. Controlling his substance as water alone was difficult, and it had taken so very much to work with others. He felt driven to be out there, as if there was this void in his (metaphorical) heart. Saving others from fires, search and rescue. All of it.

He carefully peeled back the glove on his hand, prying up the false-skin beneath to see the water of his 'body' flow beneath. The suit helped keep him together, and thankfully he didn't have muscles to get sore or tired. Still, he felt he knew something was wrong. That this wasn't how he should be.

Something was odd, though. He'd done his research, he knew Case 53s had nothing. He had...faint impressions. Not true memories, but not a complete black void, either. Just this drive to be strong. Aside from that, the only thing that was his was given to him. 'John Vand' the name assigned to him by the PRT. 'Vand' being Danish for 'water.'

Yeah, someone was real clever.

The fire was out, and he moved to assess the damage. He nodded as another firefighter waved him forward into the creaking building. If it collapsed, he wouldn't be in any real danger, after all. He'd just need a new suit.

Though it would be a pain to get a new set of silver scale armor for his costume. Neptune hated the PR department.

As he moved in to save another life, his phone announcing his presence at full volume, he inwardly smiled. He felt...satisfied, somehow.

Coil opened the cell.

Dinah looked at him, her eyes glazed over. He tilted his head, examining his newest pet. It hadn't been easy, arranging this on such short notice, but Bakuda's reign of terror on the city made it rather simple. He'd only had to use his power twice to manage a successful, clean kidnapping attempt.

Thanks to the Travelers, it had been even easier to ensure Dinah would not be missed. Having her simply go missing during the bombing would have been fine. Ensuring evidence of her death appearing, on the other hand...that was even more valuable. And a useful test.

"Please...I need the candy." She managed to whisper.

He nodded. "I know it hurts, my pet. I need to ask you a few questions, first."

She winced. "T-two. Just two. It'll hurt too much if I do any more than that."

"Three. Then the candy. What are the chances of success if I launch an assassination attempt on Kaiser using a sniper?"

She whimpered, then spoke. "Twenty-three point two-four percent."

He nodded. About what he'd expected. "What are the chances of success of the planned mission to retrieve Shadow Stalker during her transfer?"

Dinah clutched her head. "Sixty-one point two percent."

Excellent. Better than expected. "What are the chances Scarlet Knight will intervene?"

She started sobbing from the pain. "Three point two one percent chance."

"Very good, pet." Coil stepped away, allowing the doctor to advance on Dinah, syringe at the ready.

Dinah held out her arm, inwardly hating herself for the desire to be relieved from both the pain of her Thinker headache and the withdrawal from the drugs. Just as the haze began to rise over her, she asked herself one question.

Chances I'll be able to go home again?

Seventy-three point four six percent.

She managed to hide her smile.

In orbit, the Simurgh twitched.

Leviathan, which had just awakened and had started heading for Brockton Bay suddenly veered off. The Endbringer dove deep into the Atlantic basin, coming to a rest once more.

The Simurgh unfurled each of her wings, focusing her sight downward. She crossed her arms, coming to a repose, uncaring of the alarms that were even now making their way around the world. She didn't shift her course.

Things had changed. So must the pattern.