Sveta was hot. Sveta was so hot. She looked like a perfect mix between a photoshopped Asian cosplayer and one of those crazy hot Czech models. Amy had done too good of a job, she was on the knifes edge of unnaturally hot. I didn't think I could begrudge her that, though, given where she started.

It was bloody distracting, though.

I was supposed to be on high alert, not gawking at a girl I wasn't even dating. There had been a sighting of Crawler an hour ago before he somehow vanished from sight despite being a truck-sized monster.

I turned back to Sveta who was carefully carrying a platter of tea over to the coffee table, a cup for each of us including Victoria who seemed to be following through on her interest in joining the Wards. Victoria and Sveta had taken to each other immediately, somehow falling straight into an older sister/younger sister flow. It was really very sweet, and they even kind of looked like… like they could be related. Seeing them both now, next to each other, some of Amy's inspiration for hot became clear.

Sveta presented me the platter and I took a cup with a smile. It was obvious she was incredibly proud that not only was she able to make tea now, she had only dropped a single cup and barely cried.

My knee bounced vigorously as I sipped at my tea, still not drinkable yet through my paltry heat resistance. The Nine had been in Brockton for at least two weeks without showing hide nor hair beyond their introductory murders, and the Think Tank hadn't been able to produce anything of value; if Armsmaster's expletive rants were anything to judge by.

I knew the Think Tank was a subsidiary arm of the PRT, and therefore Cauldron, but their continued ineffectiveness grated. What were they even good for? Surely if you got dozens of Thinkers together analysing every scrap of data about the Slaughterhouse Nine you could come up with something useful. Maybe I should take a gap year working for Watchdog before I joined up with the Protectorate fully, see what I could make of it.

Then I would have a second gap year doing Whitelist jobs 'for the exposure'.

Finally, I would sign up for the Protectorate on the most luxurious contract they could provide, assuming Alexandria wasn't lying and she did murder me at some point.

I picked up my tea and sipped it again. Still too hot. I got up and walked around behind the couches, pacing back and forth. Any second now shit was going to go off, Shatterbird would sing and kill so many people. My parents were safely ensconced in our basement at home without anything glass around, and I knew all the glass in the PRT and protectorate buildings had been in the process of being either replaced with non-silicate panes or being taped up for weeks.

It was a tricky prospect, Shatterbird's song. The second the PRT announced, she'd sing. And if they held off the announcement until she started singing the result would be the same, but they'd have time to replace or brace critical windows and minimise casualties; but not among civilians. I was sure, however, that personnel were warning their friends and family just as I had, who would then hopefully go on to do the same and prevent at least some deaths.

I heard Victoria walk up to me.

"Slow down."

I glanced at her but didn't reply, though I did slow down to normal walking speed. It was agonisingly slow.

"I wanted to thank you," Victoria said. "For Amy."

I stopped. Thank me for Amy? I suppose without knowing the full context behind our relationship it would look like I had burst into her life and forcefully dragged her out of the mopey spiral she was in.

"No worries."

Victoria smiled, a little weakly. "I know you got her to stop smoking, and she told me you've used your healing power on her every day since you got it."

"Shoulda known you'd notice. It's nothing, really," I fidgeted, using my visor to hide the fact that I wasn't making eye contact. "She deserves it."

Victoria nodded, eyes roaming back over to where Sveta had finished giving out the teas and had sat down herself next to Vista. "Svetlana says you helped her a great deal, too."

"I barely went out of my way," I waved her off, itching to return to my pacing. To be in motion, to put my boundless energy somewhere. "It's not like it takes people like us long to get around the city. I know you've been busy these days, too."

"Like everyone," she said, apparently in the same mind as me when it came to compliments despite hers being genuine good deeds, untainted by tormenting her sister or causing a panic at an asylum. "She's a lovely girl, Svetlana."

"Nicest person I ever met. We were friends online for a while, you know? I'm glad I didn't stop talking to her, for a while I thought she was a paedophile trying to catfish me," I said. "Her handle was GStringGirl."

Victoria shook her head disbelievingly. "Seriously? I didn't know she'd be comfortable making that kind of joke."

"I'm not sure she ever could, in person at least. She could make some pretty grubby jokes from behind a screen, not that you'd expect it from how sweet she is," I glanced back over to her, my eyes automatically tracing her svelte figure. I made myself look away, "she just needs a bit of confidence, which I think you could help her with."

Victoria made a noise in the back of her nose and crossed her arms, eyes downcast. She seemed pensive rather than reluctant, however.

"I'm going to be leaving in just over two months," I pressed on. "I think you might be exactly what she needs in a friend."

"You're leaving?" Victoria looked up at me, cocking her head.

"New York. I don't like this city," I wrinkled my nose and gave my head a little shake.

"So that's why Amy wants to go there… Makes sense. Hey, what about that girl? Tarlie? Do you still want help with that?"

"Taylor," I said softly. "No. I already apologised."

"And did it… go well?"

I reached under my visor and rubbed my eyes. "Not really."

"...could I help?"

I shrugged. "Maybe? She's still active, I think. I guess if you see her just be nice? I'm not sure how to help her."

Victoria uncrossed her arms, moving her hands to her hips and gazing off at the wall in thought. "Have you tried talking to her parents?"

"If I wanted to make things worse," I snorted. "But, I appreciate you trying."

I stuck out my hand.

"I'm looking forward to working with you for the next two months."

Victoria nodded with painfully kind understanding and shook my hand. "Me too."

There was a moment of shared understanding and we walked back over to the couches, Victoria perching on the arm next to Sveta and me retaking my seat next to Dennis.

I picked up my cup of tea a took a sip. My knee started bouncing again. This waiting was fucking killing me.

Dennis knocked my leg with his knee. "Stop. Please."

"Sorry," I grunted, stilling my leg.

"If you like, I could freeze you until we get called in."

I sighed and sat back, shaking my head. "Nah."

Dennis made a noise and went back to staring at his cup of tea without touching it.

After a few more agonising minutes all our work phones went off simultaneously. Within seconds we were all up and ready, lining up at the door. I took a second to stay behind.

"Sveta," I put a hand on each of her shoulders, staring into her bright brown eyes. "You'll be fine here. We'll have bigger problems than your safety if anything gets all the way down here, but you should have an escape plan ready. Just in case."

"I can get into the vents?" Sveta quavered at the thought, arms tight to her sides, fists balled.

"Good plan. You'd think they'd trap them, but they don't," I took a step back and held out my fist. "You got this."

Sveta bumped it weakly, hand trembling like she had Parkinson's. "I got this?"

I pumped my Charisma as high as it would go. "I know you do."

Sveta sniffled loudly, but nodded, mouth pressed into a firm line. I clapped her on the shoulder and took off after my team, I could hear her muttering 'I got this' to herself until I was out of earshot. She'd be fine, there wasn't any reason for any of the Nine to get into the Wards area and target her, which I probably should have also told her.

I caught up in a flash, joining the hustle. The Protectorate team were on standby in the PRT building to consolidate forces, and we all piled into the elevator to meet them in the foyer. The elevator groaned under the weight, mostly of Weld, but took us smoothly up to the ground floor where we spilled out in a rush and charged up the stairs until we burst out of a side corridor into the light.

We arrived in a painfully tense atmosphere. Armsmaster was standing in front of a screen with a projector, a few blurry photos of what was obviously Crawler fighting with a big lump of something with a dozen smaller humanoid lumps around them, halfway through barking orders at some of the PRT office staff.

"Oh, good," he turned to look at us. "Finally. Your standing orders are to not leave the building until told otherwise. People!" he raised his voice, cutting through the murmuring chatter. "It's started. As of three minutes ago Crawler was sighted brawling with an unknown parahuman in the Downtown area. It is unconfirmed at this point, but the unknown parahuman was reported to be periodically spawning additional combatants. These look to be humans, some with major deformities. Preliminary ratings are at Brute Five, Master Two for the unknown parahuman while all of Crawler's rating on file still apply; however! They are not current primary targets, this may be a ploy of some kind to get us focused on a threat we can safely ignore. We will be focusing on the threat of Shatterbird's song, which will be preliminarily covered by an order for the public to hide themselves as best they can eta eighty-three seconds, after which we will begin deployment.Is this clear?"

Armsmaster didn't actually wait for anyone to reply.

"Good. See to Miss Militia and myself," he gestured to her. "For assignments. Dark Smoke Puncher, are you getting any readings?"

"Negative, sir!"

"Inform me immediately if you do. Let's go!"

I'd had other Greg signalling for quests, but it had been a no go as of yet. It was still unclear if I could actually make them happen, at least with any consistency.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. My personal phone.

New quest! 'Saving Private Amy'!

"Fuck," I spat, fishing my phone out of my pocket. "FUCK!"

Weed Thot: Bonesaw warehouse calling favours

I turned and sprinted full tilt through the automatic doors, glass showering me. I turned right sharply, kicking off and running diagonally up the side of the building, jumping across the road as I reached the edge and double jumping up onto the top of the taller building adjacent to the PRT office. I didn't have time to get higher up.

I took a step, pumped my Strength up as high as I could and rocketed up toward the sky. My glider unfolded out of smoke, propeller whirring to life. I didn't know how much time I had, Amy could be dead by the time I got there.

I was having to sacrifice altitude for speed, angling ever so slightly toward the streets as I piloted my glider over the city traffic. I was currently four stories up, able to cut across shorter buildings. Time was shaved off, but was it enough? The wind whistled past my ears, but I needed to go faster.

I let go of my control of the propeller, throwing out a hand. A grapnel spike attached to a fine blue wire shot from my palm like a bullet, digging into the concrete rim of a nearby taller building with the briefest flash of lightning. I contracted the wire, yanking myself higher, letting me swoop at greater speed without any damaging loss of height.

Another grapnel shot out, pulling me higher. With this technique I hauled ass across the city, dragging myself toward the Docks.

Finally, I could see it, the roof of Amy's warehouse. With agonising slowness I descended toward it… closer… just a bit closer…

I vanished my glider, dropping onto and through the skylight. I landed lightly on the balls of my feet, taking a second to orient myself.

Amy was standing a few meters away nearer the door, and just in front of her stood Bonesaw with two grotesqueries flanking her. Some centaur looking thing called Pagoda and something called Murder Ra-

Mouse Protector.

I froze. Adrenaline coursed through my body as I locked eyes with Bonesaw.

"What've you done!?" I hissed. "What the fuck've you done?!"