Brockton's Celestial Forge

by Lord Roustabout

The Celestial Forge is the greatest combination of crafting powers in Jumpchain, meaning it is the greatest combination of crafting abilities in all of fiction. In Brockton Bay a forgotten side character's trigger event ends with him linked to the Celestial Forge rather than his intended shard. His expanding collection of tinker abilities drag him into the city's cape conflicts.

53. 42-1 Int Neil -Pre Tammi -Add Marissa

Author's Note: Interlude this week, so no points gained. We'll get back to the perspective around Joe next chapter and will see more perk gains then. Also, I feel I should say I really do not like writing from the perspective of the E88. This will probably be the last chapter involving their point of view for quite a while.

Preamble Tammi

Tammi leaned against the wall of the luxury apartment, staring out the balcony window at the devastation spread across the city. It was probably an appropriate reception after the stress of the last few days, but that was to be expected. The recruitment of supervillains wasn't exactly a vacation activity.

The place Victor had prepared for their arrival wasn't quite on the level of Downtown penthouses, but it was better than anything you would even find in the Towers. Also, it did have a spectacular view. That view probably accounted for half the excessive cost of a place like this, but right now it only showed the scale of the mess that had been waiting for them when they finally got back to the city.

She still resented being dragged along on that trip. No matter what Kayden had promised, no matter what assurances she had given, she could tell she was being used. Weirdly, she was kind of used to it by now. Her parents, then the clans, then the Empire, everyone had their agendas. It wasn't the first time her presence had been used as a bargaining chip, but that didn't mean she enjoyed the feeling.

She felt trapped. Not as badly as she did under her parents, or when she had been stuck in juvie, but still trapped. Trapped in a luxury apartment, but still trapped.

The actual situation she found herself in was halfway between babysitting and some fucked up medieval tribute. Here to keep an eye on things, but also make sure the psycho bitch feels sufficiently important. They could have a dozen people here at a moment's notice, all fawning over her like a goddess, but assigning an Empire cape fed into that oh so important image that Victor insisted was crucial for both keeping the Damsel on their side and for ensuring her stability.

She hated to admit it, but the man was right. He was right an insufferable amount of the time, but he had been dead on the money here. Ever since they started playing up that angle, the idea that Damsel was going to be some imperious general with her own lieutenants rather than a rookie recruit, things had settled dramatically from the levels of earlier chaos.

Given what things were like when the woman wasn't settled Tammi could at least be grateful for that. She glanced over at the figure lounging on the designer couch watching news reports play on a flat screen of truly ridiculous size. She looked calm, collected, stable, but Rune had spent enough time with the woman over the past few days to know not to trust that impression. She had seen what those blasts could do when Ashley Stillons lost control.

That was the worst part. It was one thing to work with a dangerous cape. She had been surrounded by them ever since she triggered and had her share of exposure even before that. The hard-line members of the Herren Clan could make even someone like Hookwolf look reserved by comparison. Dangerous capes one bad day from cutting loose were one thing, but they had nothing on Damsel.

That woman could lose control of her powers. She'd only seen it happen once, but that was enough. It wasn't just the loss of control. She suspected some of the other violent demonstrations they'd been subjected to were not quite as intentional as Damsel had tried to make them seem. If the woman couldn't play off one of her blasts as some kind of intimidation tactic or demonstration of power, if it was clear she had screwed up and lost control, that's when things went bad.

It was the exact kind of cliché that seemed so common with parahumans. Being exposed as having poor control made Damsel's control worse, which led to more incidents, which made her control worse. Tammi had been seriously concerned that they might not make it out of there.

She had to give Kayden credit for that, at least. It probably also helped that it was just the two of them on the recruitment pitch, meaning promises of discretion could actually have some weight to them. Kayden was able to talk Damsel around, spinning assurances of support, power, stability, and a new direction for the Empire under her leadership.

It really seemed the only person who didn't immediately doubt Kaiser's promise to hand over the gang to Kayden was Kayden. Rune doubted it was because of some secret insight that the woman held regarding the E88 leader. She remembered when her own uncle had introduced her to the man as the latest ambassador for the Clans. It was a play for influence on both sides, more reach for the Clans and another soldier for Kaiser's Empire. Kaiser had been cordial and welcoming, but it was clear she was seen as nothing more than another strong cape to shore up Empire ranks.

Or it was clear now. Looking back, she could recognize motives that she completely overlooked when she was younger. The treatment of Damsel was ringing all kinds of bells. Victor's carefully tailored reception, precise analysis of tastes and provided luxuries in just the right amounts to flatter without going overboard. Specific promises about position, support, and future greatness.

It reminded her too much of when she had run away, leaving her parents and going back to the clans. Well, not 'back'. The clans had never been a presence in her life, just this looming thing in the past that her mom and dad were oh so proud of themselves for leaving behind. Constantly self-aggrandizing about how they had broken away and were better people now, how they were saving her from that life. Making sure it was clear how every hardship was some shared penance.

That had really been what drove her back to the clans. Her parents had kept all the worst parts while dropping everything else. To call them controlling didn't even come close. Every aspect of her life was managed, agonized over, curated. She couldn't have any kind of existence beyond them, all for fear that she would fall back into what they were so proud to get away from.

The way she had been welcomed back, the lengths she had gone to, she could see it now, the logic behind is. She saw it in what was being done for Damsel. Victor and Kayden were making sure she felt special, felt valued. That she could see a future for herself with the Empire.

Her uncle had done the same thing. Her parents wouldn't even let her go to a concert, her uncle had hired a punk band for her welcome party. Had actually given her a welcome party. Made sure everyone knew it was for her, that she was important. Every little step away from what her parents had allowed, her first beer, getting on stage, committing to the cause, it had made her feel special.

That hadn't really broken down until she triggered. It was ironic. The thing that made her really valuable to the clans, to the Empire, to the cause, had been what showed her the superficiality of everything. She had been caught, nailed on one of the missions she really had no business being involved with. They'd hung her out to dry. The trial was practically a drumhead, no help from her parents other than to make sure she knew how much she had disappointed and embarrassed them. Then Juvie.

That had been the worst. Little Nazi girl stuck in prison, the perfect target for every degenerate in that facility. Every promise, every assurance from the clans about solidarity, support, never leaving someone behind, about having people everywhere who could help, it had been meaningless.

Months of abuse. She tried to take it, to hold out like they always said good soldiers should but it had gotten too much. The stress had built. She couldn't sleep. She wasn't eating. And her stutter was coming back. That was the worst, even more so than the assaults. She had worked so hard to conquer that, to prove that she could beat it. Her parents had always made sure she knew how much they were sacrificing to afford the speech therapy, but it was her accomplishment. But in that hell, she couldn't hold. She was losing everything.

When she triggered, when she broke out and got away from that filth things were different. Suddenly she was valuable, a real asset for the clans. Not that show of support and solidarity that had been paraded out for her, but a legitimate priority for the people in charge.

Suddenly she was what they had pretended she had been, but it wasn't the same. She'd seen the cracks, knew the hypocrisy behind so many of the higher ups. It was probably better that she'd been sent to the Empire along with Othala and Victor. The Herren Clan were hardliners, devoted to purity of blood and ideals. It took marriage and time for anyone from outside to be accepted, and even then it was nebulous. She knew there were still people who didn't trust Victor, who saw him as an outsider. The Empire didn't have that problem.

Kaiser was fighting a war and would basically take anyone who didn't go completely against the grain. Aside from the occasional hardliner like Alabaster the gang's commitment to ideals was nebulous at best, and she was okay with that. That wasn't what drew her to the movement anyway. It was the community, the support, the sense of having someplace where you could belong, feel safe, and work to make things better.

She knew that was what brought most people in. The Empire wasn't the focused organization that you saw in the Clans. It was broader. She really wondered how well it would hold together if they didn't have Kaiser and the legacy of All Father and the connection to the city anchoring it.

There would still be something. People would always be fighting for the cause. That was enough to provide drive, even if it wasn't enough for direction. There was a secret thrill to knowing the real shape of things, to seeing the manipulations, the creeping corruption that got covered up and hidden by the media and government. The chance to turn things around, both in the city and the country. That would always have people fighting, just possibly not fighting under a single uniting commander.

The human act of destruction on the couch was stirring, suggesting that Tammi should probably make herself known to keep up the impression they had built. Behind her back she finished tracing the complex symbol on the wall, feeling her power sink into the concrete and steel of the apartment's structure. Larger pieces took longer to attune, but she had been able to avoid attention long enough to complete her work.

Four sections of the building were infused with her power, each the largest she could manage. At a moment's notice she could rip load bearing portions of the building out of place and bring the entire structure down on Damsel's head. It was extreme and would certainly put her on Kaiser's shit list, but she wasn't taking that chance. She had seen the mad gleam building in Damsel's eyes as the videos from the battle had played, the nearly subconscious movement of her hands that hinted at her powers being readied. She never knew what was going on inside the woman's head, but she would be damned if she would be caught unprepared.

She pushed off the wall as casually as she could, taking one last glance over the balcony. Dots of light jumped above the skyline of the city, sittings of Brockton's flying capes. Purple, blue, and red for New Wave, a sparking azure dot that could only be Dauntless, and the glowing pure white comet of Kayden's energized form. She was out there, fighting the fight, making a difference in the aftermath of the greatest upset the city had seen in a generation while Tammi was stuck managing a mentally unstable cape who they were apparently planning for a position of authority.

That was undoubtedly the most concerning part of this mess. Damsel wasn't going to sign up to be a foot soldier. Not with her powers, her mentality, or her experience. The woman had fought in the Boston Games when she was younger than Rune. She had stood on her own for nearly a decade as an independent cape. No matter how unstable she was she had survived alone in an environment where most new capes could measure their lifespans in weeks.

Ashely knew how strong her power was and why the Empire wanted it. She had turned down recruitment attempts before, and from what Rune had heard had done so brutally. It would take more than luxuries and lip service to bring her on board. The answer had been granting her power within the group.

She doubted it would extend beyond field command. Damsel wouldn't be deciding any strategies for the Empire, but Kayden had basically promised to make her a top lieutenant once she took over and implied Damsel would be 'running' her own team.

No word on what that would mean, but Tammi could guess. Victor was basically guaranteed just to be able to manage the woman. How much actual authority she would have over him was anyone's guess, but he would at least be able to make sure she felt like she was in command. Her cousin was pretty much guaranteed to follow Victor. Othala and Victor were an iconic team, even beyond their marriage, and he would need Othala's power boosts in the field.

There was no word on who else would be assigned to work under the woman, but Rune could guess. She hadn't been put on this assignment just to watch Damsel. They probably expected her to be ingratiating herself to the blaster and preparing for her new position in the Empire.

Trapped. She felt trapped, but trapped by circumstances rather than walls. She could control the walls but not the circumstances. Ironic that she had put so much effort into developing her communication skills, her ability to connect with people, only for it to mean absolutely nothing at a critical moment. She was here because she was a physically unthreatening teenage girl.

She knew she looked younger than her actual age, the opposite problem that Othala had. Nobody suspected that her married cousin was still a teenager, and had been an even younger teenager when she married Victor. That was one aspect of the Herren Clan they had kept quiet about until she was firmly committed to her return. Luckily she had managed to avoid any of that nonsense.

Well, other than that awkward introduction to Theo. Kaiser's son had been as uncomfortable with the idea as she was. They had played along at the social events where they'd been paired up, but thankfully Kaiser backed off when it was clear things weren't going anywhere. She had a feeling he had blamed Theo for that.

Instead she had been sent off to the new crazy woman. She wondered what that said about how the organization viewed her. Was it trust in her maturity, or did they think she was so passive that she wouldn't cause any problems? That she would just roll over if Damsel took things too far?

She pulled slightly on the sections of the apartment she had infused, just enough to feel the resistance, to confirm she could tear out truck sized chunks of the structure the moment she chose. She wasn't that naïve girl who had been left to rot in juvie. She had power now and would damn well use it if she needed to.

Damsel had used the DVR to pause the live broadcast on one of the replays of the fight. Apeiron standing atop a container roaring into the sky. The moment just before he had transformed into that saber toothed beast thing. God, she wished she could have seen Hookwolf's reaction to that. Before she left with Kayden she'd heard him dismiss the tinker as an overly reserved intellectual detached from the bloodier elements of combat. That certainly wasn't the impression given by the form posing atop the shipping containers. Strained bulging muscles under glowing tattoos wrapped in the tattered barbaric remains of a costume.

As she approached the couch she could see the intensity with which Damsel was studying the image. The expression on the woman's face… well calling it predatory would have been an understatement. That should have been a relief, it was why they had gone through all this trouble after all, but that wasn't the sense she got. The look wasn't aggression, or at least wasn't just aggression. It had an edge of instability that was especially concerning.

Rune couldn't dismiss the idea that Damsel had her wires crossed, that she might not see the difference between pursuing someone for violence or for other reasons. Hell, with the way the woman dressed, the implements of her costume, all black with wires and spikes, it wouldn't have surprised Tammi to find out there wasn't a difference there.

Being close to a worked-up Damsel of Distress was an unsettling prospect. Like standing next to a live bomb. She reaffirmed her hold on the sections of the apartment as a comforting presence in the back of her mind while running through the instructions Victor had provided. Deference. Play up her ego. Don't draw attention to anything that could expose or embarrass her.

The crystal glass in Damsel's hand hummed as the woman traced a finger along the rim. Rune's body tensed, but it was only the crystal singing. The tone of the glass resonating, not the beginnings of that horrible cacophony that signaled her power activating. She forced herself to relax before her unease could be noticed and plastered a smile on her face.

"Can I get you a refill?" She said the words with as much grace as she could manage. She was playing subordinate, and probably would be for the foreseeable future. How much good Ashley Stillons could do against someone like Apeiron was debatable even before the recent events, but she was still the only weapon the Empire had that could hope to injure the tinker. Actually beating him was a distant prospect, even more so now, but she knew that wasn't what this was about. Kaiser wanted a stronger bargaining position, and having the Damsel of Distress under his authority provided that.

The annihilator cape in question turned to look at her and thankfully some of the intensity left her expression. Despite all of her misgivings and concerns about the missions somehow Tammi had managed to make a good impression. She suspected Kayden may have talked up her situation to garner sympathy. It irritated her, but not enough to actually confront either cape about it.

The woman glanced down and swirled the last of the liquor in her glass before nodding. "Yes, that would do nicely." There was a pause before she turned to Rune. "And pour one for yourself as well."

She forced another smile before moving to the wet bar. The place was ridiculously well stocked and with nothing but the good stuff. A stupid villain cliché, but you could really taste the quality. At least Damsel seemed to appreciate it. It was a big step up from the stinking warehouse they had found her in.

That place was half a junk heap, and given what Rune had learned about Damsel's control it was probably unintentionally so. The area had been littered with the shredded remains of God knew what. Shrapnel from the woman's power tended to take on the same form no matter what the original target was. She wondered how much of the loot from the woman's career had been destroyed before it could be enjoyed? How many comforts had been shredded in cascades of poor control? Given how thin and worn the woman was she wondered if she could even eat or sleep properly.

She was giving no indication of that now. Mercifully there hadn't been any accidental discharges of her power, save one demonstration when Kaiser had welcomed her to the city that seemed a touch sudden. No one had commented on it and they had avoided any spirals of lapses in control. Damsel had kept things together through the tour of her new accommodations and the rounds of pampering she had received.

It had been excessive, but Damsel had relished it, particularly the massive spread of take out provided from upscale restaurants. She doubted even Kaiser indulged like this and it certainly exceeded what had been provided for her family.

That thought brought a slight frown to her face. Her parents had been 'forced' to accept financial help from the Empire following her breakout. They made it very clear they were only ending their self-imposed exile for her sake. That didn't stop them from accepting a fully furnished apartment in the Towers when they couldn't cover the mortgage on the two bedroom split level she had grown up in, or taking placements in six figure jobs that could probably have been managed by a chimp with a phone.

She pushed the thoughts aside. That was supposed to be a gesture for her sake, but it only made her feel used. Used on another level. And she supposed her parents were being used as well. Having them in the city tied her to the E88 on a greater level than she would have been otherwise, and it wasn't like the Empire was short on cash. That was evident with the blue labeled whiskey being one of the cheapest bottles that had been stocked.

When she returned with the drinks Damsel had switched to another channel, this one trying to capture the full impact of an event that was still playing out. The 24 hour news station had all hands on deck, with multiple anchors talking over each other, parahuman correspondents in attendance and live video feeds from experts on a half dozen subjects. They were prattling about implications of what was happening, the consequences for the city and the country as a whole, what it meant regarding relations with parahumans, and what it said about the conditions in Brockton Bay.

That actually brought her up short. She knew Apeiron had been leaking details to the media through the fight. She assumed it had dropped off following his withdrawal from the battlefield. While the updates hadn't been maintained at their previous pace it seemed he had dropped one hell of a bombshell directly on every media outlet he could.

It as good as confirmed what she had suspected from the earlier events of the fight. The ABB was broken, probably for good. Their fronts had been torn down earlier in the week and now it seemed Apeiron had routed out the rest of their infection. He had hit their headquarters during the fighting and managed to get… well, just about everything.

Every piece of dirty laundry about the gang had been routed out and dumped on the police, Protectorate, PRT, and every news outlet possible. Businesses, criminal rings, even finances were out in the open, exposed to the world.

She couldn't help but smile at that. Everyone knew the ABB territory was a cesspool. Usually they assumed the Empire was exaggerating things about them, that they couldn't possibly be that bad. Well, here was the truth. Every horrific act perpetrated under Lung exposed to the world. Crimes that went beyond the assumed drugs, gambling, and prostitution. Human trafficking in particular jumped out, but the depth and breadth of the rest of it was shocking for anyone who didn't already know what the Asians were capable of.

Her smile grew slightly as she thought about how this would play out. Piggot had been downplaying Lung's barbarism, insisting that it was a livable situation, preferable to a gang war. Well, exactly what she had allowed to fester was now on display. She didn't know if this would cost the woman her job, but it couldn't be good for the director's prospects.

Once again she cursed the fact that she was stuck here instead of being out in the field. This was a major upset and the Empire would need to act on it. The police would be too strained with recovery work to do anything, and letting it sit would allow ABB assets to be relocated. There would be a race to beat the Merchants to them and make sure that scum couldn't exploit the chaos more than they already had. Instead of being on the front lines she was confined to her babysitting duty, just like she'd been during the ABB attack.

Damsel was watching the newsreader become increasingly unnerved as they read the list of crimes and atrocities attributed to the Asians. She had a complicated expression on her face as she accepted her refilled glass. The cape indicated to the end of the sofa and Rune managed to conceal her reluctance as she settled in.

"Distasteful news." The woman who executed hostages commented. Rune just nodded and took a sip of her own drink while wondering if Damsel was likely to be more or less stable while drunk. You could never really tell.

"It's the kind of thing we've been fighting against." She replied. When unsure of what to say it was usually best to fall back on the party line. "The city's been in denial about the situation the ABB created. They didn't get a real wakeup call until this round of attacks."

That had been more than the truth. Kayden wasn't the only lapsed member of the E88 who'd come back into the fold following Bakuda's rampage. People with middling commitments were willing to go to the wire after Saturday's attacks. There was word about recruits from other cities being a possibility, though that hadn't materialized yet. Probably wouldn't until the new power dynamic had a chance to settle.

Bakuda's strikes had demonstrated a level of brutality nobody had expected. She could recognize the tactics used, textbook terror bombing. You couldn't spend time with the Clans without being exposed to an excessive amount of World War II history. Also Wagner, but thankfully she'd only had to sit through The Ring Cycle once. That was seventeen hours of her life she was never getting back. The point was this attack had been right out of the history books. Bakuda had launched one round of random attacks, then held off the second strike until rescue workers arrived. It was something right out of the bombing of Dresden down to the gap between the wave of strikes. And just like Dresden it had served as a rallying cry rather than an act of demoralization.

"I can see that." Damsel said, glancing towards the balcony. "Though I wonder if there'll be anything left of their forces after what Apeiron's managed."

"The Empire will be doing what they can." Rune emphasized. "But the remnants of the ABB will dig in like rats. It's more than just the people with bombs in their head. There was a whole community holding them up."

Damsel didn't look convinced, but moved on regardless. "We should be out there." The white haired woman stated confidently. "I've seen moments like this before. It's a critical time to act and establish ourselves.

Rune felt sweat bead on her back as she quickly moved to counter the argument. It was particularly bitter since she agreed with exactly what Damsel had said. Still, Damsel was an advantage the Empire needed to hold onto for the right moment. They could only reveal her once, and she had been given orders in no uncertain terms to keep her out of the field. "Not tonight. It's still chaos out there, and mostly down to recovery work at this point, nothing you need to be concerned with." That was a lie. There would be strike teams racing police and Merchants to ABB strongholds all night, but Damsel didn't need to know that. "Also, you'll want to wait for Victor to finish your new costume before you make your debut, right?"

Damsel looked back at the flatscreen, fortuitously showing a clip from Apeiron's call with Bakuda and March. That new costume, dramatically lit by just the right angle of sunlight, perfectly framed by a billowing cloak, and perfectly tailored to his muscular frame had a near physical presence that could be felt through the broadcast.

Damsel curled in slightly, running an hand over the black lace of her new dress. It was designer and perfectly in her size in addition to being much better quality and condition to the outfits she had previously worn, but even without being compared to Apeiron's workmanship it came across as a bit drab. That was probably more related to the near skeletal frame supporting the garment. Tammi never thought she would meet someone who would make her look well developed.

"You're confident in his work?" She asked, quickly recovering from any display of insecurity.

Rune nodded vigorously. "Never underestimate Victor. Tailoring or design, you won't find anyone better, and he'll be giving you his full attention."

That was a lie. Victor would be cramming the project in between a dozen other commitments and probably farming out as much of the labor as he could, but somehow he would still be able to deliver on all fronts. It was the kind of blanket competence that made him so annoying.

Damsel hummed to herself and lifted the remote again, flicking through channels with relish. It was something she had noticed, any time the woman managed to accomplish something tactile there was a sense of accomplishment, and the accomplishments had been growing steadily, and particularly over the course of recent events.

She was secretly grateful for any stability the woman might have found, but far from comfortable with her proximity. She sat and endured small talk, making what points she could, but never released her hold on the walls of the apartment. She still felt trapped, but it wasn't a trap that could hold her. No matter what commitments she had made, no matter what situations she found herself in, no matter what was happening out in the city, that was something she would never compromise on. Never again.

42.1 Interlude Neil

Neil wiped the sweat from his brow before shifting his grip on the fallen beam. He felt the force of his power reinforcing his leverage before he heaved. A section of the collapsed house lifted, revealing three sets of shining eyes looking up from the basement.

"Everyone alright?" He called down. In the dark he could see flickers of motion. Whispers of "New Wave" and "Manpower" echoed around the dark cellar.

He moved the beam to a stable position and reached down with his free hand to start helping the residents up to the street. The house was one of the cheaper rentals you saw towards the more industrial side of the docks. They were small, worn down, and never maintained in any meaningful way. Still, the city tended to let all but the most egregious building and safety violations slide.

The people who owned these properties would rather let them end up condemned than pour in the money necessary to bring them up to code, and the last thing these areas needed was more abandoned houses. A lot of them had been snatched up en masse following the city's first economic downturn and subsequent wave of foreclosures. After that point it became more about squeezing what they could out of the real estate than doing any form of development.

Nobody lived in one of these places because they had a better choice. It was generally this or an equally dilapidated apartment, more crowded and probably closer to active gang territory. So some people chose the run-down houses nestled closer to the mostly-abandoned industrial areas than anyone would want to live.

He could remember when some of these places went up. Back in the early days when he was leading the Brockton Bay Brigade. They were all so young then. It was barely a decade from Scion's appearance. The city still had industry, growing industry. These were small family homes for people who worked in the surrounding area. Not the nicest part of the city, but there was a sense of hope for something more. A sense of community that was building, trying to create a place for themselves.

He wasn't sure when that feeling had died. So much else had been going on. It was like he looked up and the city was a different place, and he was left with nothing but a line of mistakes connecting him to those early years.

"Over here, this way." A deep voice whispered. The three people he had pulled out of the house, a middle-aged woman, teenage boy, and young girl, looked wide eyed at the source of the sound, or more specifically the light attached to it.

The city was dark. Well, not the entire city, but the area around them was totally devoid of any power. There was the faint glow of streetlights in the distance to the north and south, and an orangish light could just be seen from one of those destructive trails, but otherwise everything was pitch black. The light on Gully's phone was the one exception in the area, and it attracted the family like moths to a flame.

"Is that everyone? Anyone else in the house?" He asked the presumed mother.

She shook her head. "No. We were home when the alert went out. I got everyone in the basement." He couldn't see her expression in the dim light, but her voice was becoming heavy with emotion. "We were there when the roof came down. Nobody was hurt, but we couldn't get out. Then all the lights…" She trailed off, then looked towards her children who were nervously circling around the hulking form of the Californian Ward. "What happened?"

Manpower glanced back at the collapsed house. He didn't know how to answer that, either in the general or specific sense. There was sporadic damage throughout the area, and he honestly couldn't tell what had triggered most of it. Direct hits from Bakuda's bombs were obvious, as were any areas hit by those corridors of energy that Apeiron had thrown off when they injured him. Outside of that, he couldn't say. For all he knew their house just couldn't take it anymore and had collapsed from lack of maintenance and the shockwaves of a bomb that could have hit three streets over.

Uncertainty wouldn't help, not now. He spoke to the woman in the most comforting tone he could manage. "There were some significant exchanges towards the end of the fighting. It caused extensive damage and shut down electronics in a fairly wide area. We're still evaluating the situation and trying to get everyone to safety. It's not safe for you to remain here. We can escort you out of the area. It would be a good idea to have the paramedics look over you, and the city has some shelters set up for people displaced by the attacks."

The woman took a long look at the ruined house before nodding and falling into step with Manpower. They were lucky that everyone was able to walk under their own power. Actually, they were lucky that they had found them at all. Exploring a darkened stretch of city with nothing but the single flashlight of Gully's tinker tech phone had been an exercise in frustration and despair. If they hadn't heard the family's cries for help, they never would have found them.

That thought brought even more grim images to his mind. The worst of the attacks and fighting had been focused on abandoned industrial areas. But as they just saw, industrial didn't mean there weren't people living there, and abandoned didn't mean uninhabited. You only had to look at how much the Merchants' ranks had swelled following Tuesday night's fire to realize how many people those 'abandoned' areas actually contained.

As for houses, there were more than enough scattered through the North Docks to give Neil concern. They didn't have the dedicated communities that you got further south, and had nothing on the density you saw Downtown, but they were still people's homes. People who could not recover from something like this. The collapses would have been bad enough without an imposed blackout that also destroyed electronics.

Well, unshielded electronics. Gully's phone had been given to her by a tinker friend and had turned into a beacon of hope after his own had turned into a smoking brick. The two children were circling around the Ward in a way that was clearly beginning to make her uncomfortable. Thankfully the mother saw it and moved up to take her children's hands. The teenage boy accepted with only a token resistance to the idea. They walked in the light projected from Gully's phone as Manpower moved up to fall into step beside her.

"Sorry I couldn't help back there." She whispered. It was as much to downplay the texture of her voice as it was to prevent the family from hearing.

Manpower wasn't sure exactly how he ended up partnered with the 'monstrous' Ward. She had been near him when the attacks started and had deferred to him for guidance. The girl was here on her own volition rather than under the command of one of the local groups. He had an idea about what had brought her to the city without being directly linked to the relief efforts, but now wasn't the time to spout theories like that.

Honestly, at this point he was barely more connected to local forces than she was. New Wave were Protectorate affiliates, but he didn't even know what that meant anymore. It was really more that no formal change in the team's status had been declared. He seriously doubted that after a complete failure to coordinate during a crisis of this magnitude the PRT would have nothing to say on the matter. Even if they weren't careening for disaster their failed response to this mess would have sealed the deal.

So rather than having Sarah liaise with Protectorate command to allow the team to cover vital fronts or provide support to the Protectorate's activities, every member of the team was just wandering around, doing whatever they decided was a good idea at the time. At least Crystal and Eric were with Sarah. He was glad they still had their mother, and she had them.

A cynical part of him thought it might be for the best. He had the most generic brute powers possible, and not even high tier brute powers. Yes, he could stand up to anything a non-cape could bring into the field, and handle more than his share of offensive powers, but he wasn't invincible. At least not enough for it to really count. He was just a bruiser, a slow plodding earthbound tank for a group of strike aircraft. The flyer/non-flyer divide had been a problem from the moment Crystal triggered and only got worse from there.

He was never going to manage rapid response, but then again that wasn't really Gully's specialty either. The girl had followed his lead, which mostly involved moving towards the sound of conflict and working with any police or PRT they came across. At least he could manage that. At this point he was beginning to feel like his reputation and history in the city was worth more than his powers.

It had certainly smoothed things over for Gully. He didn't know what it would have been like for a technically unaffiliated cape with her disadvantages, but alongside him she wasn't given a second thought. They were sent where they could help. Maybe not the best place, the exact point that would tip the scales of a decisive conflict or critical battle, but he sincerely doubted the people they had helped cared about whether their rescue was the best use of parahuman assets.

"Don't worry about it. I've got more experience using super strength than you could imagine, and I know how hard it can be for someone without secondary powers supporting the effect." Manpower's strength was based on the electromagnetic field that hugged his body. Because of that it let him cheat in a lot of ways. He didn't need to worry about having exact leverage or manage the placement of forces that carefully. He mainly could focus on what he wanted to accomplish and let his power take care of it.

Gully didn't have that advantage. Her strength was pure muscle. She had the size and weight to help her use it, but she had to worry more about reactive forces and effective footing than he did. When it came to digging out rubble that was the kind of stuff that could get dicey. The girl was a professional and diligent cape, but that kind of stuff wasn't her area of expertise.

"Besides," he added, "You've done more than enough tonight."

Gully glanced away and brushed at the hair covering half of her face. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point in the night he'd stopped needing to put effort into moderating his reaction to the girl. No matter how accepting a person was there was always some level of their reaction that was a front for the sake of politeness. He had been in the game long enough to know his share of capes with non-human forms, but that didn't mean he was naturally used to dealing with them.

He did know enough to behave sensibly. Even beyond the very basics of 'don't stare' and 'don't ask about their condition'. It took effort to remember that you were talking to a person, not a person under the inhuman shape, but a person that happened to have an inhuman shape.

Lord knew he'd had to deal with enough of that himself. Yeah, his problems were limited to needing to shop at tall apparel stores and watching out for low door frames, but there were plenty of people convinced he was some kind of inhuman freak for whom the height was just the first of any number of mutations.

It probably didn't help that Sarah wasn't a particularly tall woman. The thing was, seeing her at press conferences or on posters she always seemed to tower over the world. It was her personality. It just took up so much metaphorical space. So, when you put a woman everyone assumed was much taller than she actually was next to a man who was 'only' seven feet tall, well, the height gap made it look like he was one step away from hoarding a golden harp in a cloud castle.

He knew the kind of looks that bothered him and knew to avoid them when dealing with other people. The thing was, partway through the night he'd stopped needing to make that effort. It hadn't been the comfort that comes from working with someone professionally. It was when Gully played with the hair over her face. Little nervous ticks, motions, and insecurities like that.

Gully was incredibly professional, but she was still a teenage girl, and Neil could see it whenever she let her guard down. It reminded him of Crystal, both right before and right after she got her powers. His own teen years seemed like a lifetime ago, but he could still remember that insecurity, that feeling of trying to figure out life, and how much powers got in the way of that.

At some point Gully had gone from a Case 53 that he had to be careful not to offend to a nervous teen trying to act as professional as she could while stuck in a stressful time in an unfamiliar city. To some degree Neil hated himself for that. It didn't feel like an achievement, it felt like it was highlighting how bad his approach had been. Actually feeling proud for just not reacting in an inappropriate way rather than really treating her like a person.

"I'm serious about that." He added. "Outside of very limited situations, like that one, my powers have nothing on yours, not in a situation like this."

She gave a small shrug. "I'm just an earthmover, really. I've done disaster recovery before. Shoving around debris isn't that big of a deal."

Despite her dismissal he could hear a small note of pride in her voice. From her work Gully didn't have the finest control he had ever seen from a shaker, but it was still damn impressive. That spoke to the amount of time she must have spent practicing and developing her power. She had actually been a good sight more useful than him, aside for the odd situation where a collapse was too unstable to risk earth manipulation.

"Maybe not, but it looks like we're going to need your help again." He said, gesturing into the distance. They were approaching another one of the trails that had been thrown off when the ABB ambushed Apeiron. The exotic effects had stretched through the Docks like nothing Manpower had ever seen before. It wasn't like the aftereffects of some bomb or blaster power, it was like the area had been infused with some crazy effect that persisted well past the attack that instigated it.

Normally 'mysterious tinker accident' would be more than enough reason to abandon the area completely until the PRT could completely clear it. Unfortunately, both the scale of the area affected and the state of the rest of the city made that impractical. At least for the duration of the recovery efforts they would have to deal with the aftermath of Apeiron's battle with the ABB.

This particular example was one of the less dramatic ones. Each trail was only about as wide as a single lane of a street but extended a massive distance from the container yard where Apeiron had been injured. Each trail covered blocks, stretching most of the width of the North Docks and even extending into the train yards and Boat Graveyard.

The nature of the effects varied wildly. Some were incredibly destructive, like the trail of molten rock that had cut a path north east towards the boat graveyard before vanishing into the bay in a bubbling mess. Others were as mild as an unseasonable temperature shift.

They were approaching one of the less destructive expressions, but one that was still a serious obstacle. Or would have been, if not for Gully. The family had reached the edge of the effect and what cautious relief and optimism that their rescue had managed to instill was quickly draining away.

A ravine running through the city would do that. A line about twelve feet across stretching as far as could be seen had just dropped away. It wasn't like a crack had opened, more like a section of the ground had been pressed down twenty or thirty feet into the earth. You could see the point where the sidewalk and asphalt had been split, and just make out where it continued at the bottom of the urban canyon. There were points where water was pouring out from broken lines, but other than that it was an incredibly clean act of destruction.

The pattern was repeated along the length of the effect. Buildings, sidewalks, or street, it was all dropped by whatever had caused the effect. The entire thing seemed stable, and Gully mostly confirmed that, but it was still a significant barrier to recovery efforts.

The girl in question tried to hide a smile as she lifted her shovel and stepped forward. With a theatrical flair she raised the tool and struck the edge of the gap. There was a faint rumbling as the earth began to shift. The edges on each side began to warp and stretch until they met in the center, fusing together.

The combined structure looked more solid than either of the walls of the depression. Gully hadn't filled in the entire gap, but instead constructed something of a small bridge, complete with a structural arch supporting it. She kneeled down and ran a hand over the material before standing to stride across as the family watched.

It was a strong message about the stability of the construction, and Gully wasn't the least bit hesitant in her movements. Neil suspected she had some kind of sense of the ground around her, some kind of supporting thinker power. They were fairly common and even he had a certain sense of his electromagnetic field.

Between Gully's confidence and his reassuring presence, the family hurried across the gap towards the section of the city that still had power and light. Neil followed after them, marveling at the scale of the trench that had been carved through the city.

Miraculously these hadn't been as dangerous as they could have been, at least not the ones that were directed towards the city. Even so, he had to wonder what the damage was. Even with relatively harmless effects, the sheer number of them and the distance they covered meant some people must have gotten hurt, to say nothing of the damage done.

Still, it felt dishonest to focus on that. Bakuda's attacks had been a nightmare, particularly when the true potential of them was revealed. He and Gully had worked with a full team of PRT agents to contain the mix of three bombs that somehow propagated veins of high temperature crystal across the surface of anything that came into contact with it. That had been twenty minutes of tearing up streets to try to stop it from triggering a firestorm, and that kind of experience wasn't unique to them.

It reminded him of the people who wanted to focus on the collateral damage Apeiron had caused during his first public appearance. Given what he was fighting and his actions in the aftermath most people were content trying to bury the story rather than start a serious investigation. Yes, some of the death and injury of the night could be traced to Apeiron, but that didn't come close to what would have happened without him.

You just needed to look up to see that.

The sky over the bay extending to the Atlantic was still painted with warped cloud formations that framed some kind of high-altitude light effect, something like an aura. It was the highly visible aftereffects of whatever had taken Lung out of the fight.

Manpower didn't know what Apeiron had done to Lung. His phone was already fried at that point and the rescue workers he'd spoken with didn't have any certain answers. What he did know was that nobody in the city would have been able to stop Lung at that size. Possibly nobody in the country.

If Director Piggot had declared an S-class emergency the moment the situation was out of hand then maybe, just maybe they could have managed things without needing Apeiron to save their asses. And Neil was in no doubt of that. He had been working in this city for more than 20 years. He had seen things, fought the worst Brockton Bay could offer. He knew when a fight was beyond what they could hope to counter.

He still didn't know why there hadn't been a stronger response. Once that video went out the sirens should have been sounded, people evacuated, and help called in. Real help. Contractually mandated S-class responders, not this volunteer help from whoever could spare the time.

Looking at Gully walking with the now much more engaged family he regretted that sentiment. They had only gotten a trickle of help from other departments, but that help, help like Gully, had made a world of difference.

Or help like Mike. He had never expected to see his brother-in-law turn up to assist the city. In better circumstances he would have been thrilled to have him back. Members of the Brockton Bay Brigade on the streets again, just like they used to.

But no, this wasn't some happy reunion. Mike had been on his way before things went to hell to try to do what he could for Amy. The Uncle who lived halfway across the country was more concerned about his niece than the Uncle who lived two streets over.

Mike had flown in and was greeted by disasters both personal and professional. When he finally saw the man, it had been a shock. Mostly because he actually came across as an adult rather than his wife's kid brother. The amount Mike had changed after he left the city only seemed to drive home how much the rest of them had stagnated. And what changes they could claim seemed to be anything but positive.

The warmth of active streetlights was opening up ahead of them, signaling the end of the anti-electronics field. Rescue workers had set up along that band, between where the intensity of the effect could damage electronics and where it actually became possible to get a signal through. It created something of a soft border around the effect, almost like a no man's land for the recovery effort. A place where things were still functional, but everyone was cut off from the rest of the world.

From the disordered response it was clear the city's agencies had no idea how to deal with something like this. With resources pressed to the limit they couldn't afford to lose vehicles and equipment inside the deadening effect. They mainly floated around the safe area marked by active electronics and did what they could for people who were evacuating or the teams that moved deeper into the blackout area.

They counted as both categories and were met by a pair of paramedics who quickly took the family for an examination. It was a good thing too, seeing as when they reached the point where they had light being provided by more than Gully's tinker phone the true state of the people they were escorting became apparent.

No serious injuries were present, obviously nothing that would have stopped them from walking or anything that would have been apparent in the dark. That said they had been in a collapsed house, and the results of that were clear. Scrapes, bruises, and torn clothes covered the family of three. Few on the younger girl and more on the teenage boy. Neil wondered if the older sibling had stepped in to try to protect his sister, or if it was just a coincidence, a consequence of how things played out.

Neil watched the ambulance drive the family away, either to a hospital or shelter, he didn't get the details. Just a quick thanks from the paramedics before they hurried them off. In the old days they would have gotten the details. They would have followed up, not just on their medical condition, but everything they could. Probably would have helped recover what they could from the house, looked into finding them a new place, and kept track of how they were managing in the aftermath.

That was when they were the Brockton Bay Brigade, not New Wave. The difference in the name said more than most people knew. Nowadays the Brockton Bay Brigade was just a bit of cape trivia, a detail of New Wave's past. Never something of its own, just a transitional state. The holding pattern of New Wave before they were ready to launch the New Wave movement.

Neil never saw it like that. He had always seen the Brigade as his team. It was something he and Sarah planned out personally. A way to help a city that was spinning out of control, to make a difference in people's lives. He had liked that aspect of their work, been passionate about the team, and felt connected to it in a way he never really connected to the New Wave movement.

There was a good reason why Sarah had taken over command when they launched New Wave. Neil wouldn't have been able to manage that kind of work, that kind of scale. Sarah could. She always looked to the future, to bigger things.

She was always like that. He'd known her nearly as long as he'd been a cape. They'd run into each other when he was recovering from his trigger and Sarah was getting therapy for a riding injury. She'd already been a cape for more than a year, been planning out what she wanted to do with her powers while he was trying to figure out what the hell had happened to him.

His wife, with her flight, laser blasts and force fields, soaring through the sky like an angel, while he had the most boring combination of brute powers possible. He had wondered if that was based on their trigger. The absolute nightmare she and Carol had gone through when they were still children, compared to his comparatively mundane situation.

No criminal conspiracy, kidnapping, or ransom plot. Just a thirteen-year-old boy who got into a bad situation and was cornered by someone who you would never want to be cornered by. It always felt like he had nothing to complain about, not compared to what Sarah and Carol endured, but when he though back to it, remembered those blows, the helplessness, the injuries piling up, the pain so bad he could barely think and the realization that he wasn't going to get out of there. That the man wasn't going to stop, that there was nothing he could do…

He put the thoughts out of his head. They were reaching the end of the last block and entering the area where signals would work again. The effect that blocked communications wasn't like a light switch. It trended down, blocking less of the signal the further you got. Apparently, it depended on the strength of your transmitter. Cell phones would be at zero bars if they were anywhere close to the blackout area and only slowly started to pick up signals at the very edge of the larger effect. Larger radios worked better, and those in police cars and emergency vehicles could push closer into the zone without being completely cut off.

People were learning about the effect as they tried to find ways of working around it. Pure field experimentation and jury-rigged solutions, including some spools of cable that were being run hundreds of yards, allowing forward command stations to stay in touch with the rest of the city.

As they approached he noticed Gully glancing down at something in her hand. "What have you got there?" He asked.

The girl shifted nervously, then slowly extended her palm. "There was something about those elemental lanes that didn't feel right. Not all of them, but some I could kind of detect something was off. I mean, more so than just tearing up the city." She admitted. "When I built that bridge I was able to pull some of it out of the earth.

Neil's eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward, but there was only a tiny pile of gray dust in the girl's hand. At his questioning look she continued.

"I think there might be similar stuff in the other effects, but with my power I was able to pick this out. I wanted to talk to someone before I said anything, but I think it's some kind of reactive material."

Neil tensed. "Is it dangerous?"

Gully looked uncertain. "I don't know. I've never seen or felt something like this before. If what I was picking up is right it was spread through the whole trench. It's probably what dragged down the earth like that." She shook her head. "I don't know what else it could mean." The dust on her palm shifted slightly. "I can affect it with my power like earth, but I know it's not earth. It's something else."

"It's safe to work with? You can still affect it?" He asked.

"Yeah. Actually, it's easier than it should be. Feels almost energized."

Neil definitely didn't like the sound of the word 'energized', but he trusted her judgement on this. The lights were growing brighter and more electronics were becoming evident. People were actually speaking to the outside world through larger radios mounted in vehicles.

Of course, some people didn't need that level of infrastructure to stay in contact, as evidenced by a tone from Gully's phone, playing a portion of some pop song Neil vaguely remembered getting excessive radio play last summer. The girl quickly stowed the dust and answered the call, then moved the phone as a video sprang to life on the screen.

"Hey girl! I knew I could count on you. Thanks for bringing back that sweet, sweet data for me." The video showed a round faced girl with a half mask and brightly colored costume. She had vibrantly colored hair that was styled to frame her face, including bangs that swept down across the top of the girl's mask.

Gully smiled widely at the phone, then quickly adjusted her expression when her eyes flicked to the small portion of the screen showing the view from the front facing camera.

"I should still be thanking you." Gully replied. "I don't know how you managed to build something that held up in that mess, but it's been a lifesaver."

"What can I say?" The girl answered, flipping a lock of hair back. "I guess I'm just awesome like that."

Gully quickly angled the phone to include him in the shot. "Oh, this is Manpower. I told you I was working with him? Manpower, this is Facetime, the tinker who built my phone. She's from my team in San Diego."

"It's nice to meet you." He greeted the Ward.

"Back at you, Manpower. Big fan. Sorry to hear about the… uh, everything?" A bit of the tinker's enthusiasm petered out and the girl scrambled to refocus on another topic.

It took effort for Neil to keep his face straight, just giving a slight nod. This mess, this godforsaken disaster would have been bad enough with just New Wave, just the family having to deal with it. Instead, the transcripts from Amy's interview had been scattered to the winds. It seemed everyone even vaguely connected with the Protectorate or PRT had full access. Even Mike had read them, and he was just a Protectorate affiliated police contractor.

Sections of the documents had even leaked outside official channels, but at least in an unofficial and unconfirmed state. That was enough to keep them out of major publications, though there were plenty of speculation pieces and commentary on what 'could' be happening in the family and the team.

It was the part of being a cape that he hated the most. The celebrity soap opera bullshit. He didn't like it when it happened to other people, so at least he could say he wasn't being hypocritical to take issue with the circus that resulted when his own mistakes were dragged into the light.

Fortunately, Facetime quickly redirected the conversation back to Gully. "You don't know what this data is going to mean. Something like half the tinkers in the Protectorate and a few independents are online right now trying to figure out WTF is going on in that city. I mean, people knew about that city, but nobody really KNEW about that city, get me?"

Gully nodded like it was the most obvious statement in the world, but Neil bristled slightly. Yeah, Brockton had a high cape population, and several prominent gangs, but he hadn't realized the kind of reputation they had built up in the wider community. It hadn't really set in until the incidents of the past week had pushed the city onto the national stage, and the sheer amount of chaos contained in those seven days hadn't done their reputation any favors.

"Any idea why your phone didn't burn out?" Gully asked.

"Have a few theories. I tried out some new solid-state applications for that device. Really compact, and probably naturally shielded it. Of course, Photonobit is all over the chat saying it's thanks to her chips and nothing else."

"Computer tinker from Texas." Gully explained to him. "She makes 3D computer chips, sells the extras to a lot of other Protectorate branches and Ward teams."

"And is probably trying to leverage my hard work to pump demand. Not like she needs to, with the way everyone…" Facetime trailed off as Gully gave her a look that suggested this wasn't the first time the tinker had launched into a near rant over that topic. "Uh, anyway, completely F-ing fascinating stuff out there. I'm just jury-rigging detection here, but it looks like charged particles locked in a stable arrangement. Wild stuff."

"Do you know how long they'll last? Or any way to get rid of them?" Manpower asked hopefully. The tinker on the screen just shook her head.

"Sorry, no clue. This is crazy new stuff. Like, research paper level. TBH all of Apeiron's stuff is like that. Can't tell you how something works if we don't know what we're looking at." Neil slumped as that faint ray of hope withered away, then glanced up as the tinker called to him. "Hey, your powers are electromagnetic, right? Did you pick up anything while you were out there? Like, sense or notice things working differently?"

He shook his head grimly. "Sorry, I didn't notice anything. Why do you ask?"

The girl's face lit up. "Okay, you didn't see this from me, but there have been some interactions with other heroes. Cleared for tinker analysis only." She paused. "Actually, you did hear this from me. As an EM parahuman I'm requesting your insight as part of my investigation."

Before Neil could agree a video started playing. It showed Assault and Battery in one of their familiar formations. Neil could recognize the format as one of the PRT field cameras, meaning observation of capes in action. From the look of things they were within a block or so of the blackout zone. Battery's suit was glowing as she built up charge, then she launched herself forward.

And ran smack into a suddenly appearing lattice of sparks, hanging in midair. It was like she had launched herself directly into an invisible wall, complete with a comedic position as she splattered against it. If Battery wasn't effectively invincible when charged he'd be worried about injuries. As it stood the only thing that looked to be hurt was her pride.

That sentiment was reinforced when the video replayed, this time with Looney Tune sound effects spliced into it. Then another version highlighting Assault's stunned reaction to the event.

"Uh, no. Nothing like that." He answered, understanding why the Protectorate would be keen to keep something like that off of PHO.

The girl looked a little disappointed, but nodded. "There's also this one. Less entertaining, but still weird."

The video showed Dauntless landing just outside the blackout area. His normally glowing equipment was sparking, but sparking persistently. It was less like normal electric discharge and more like they had been covered in glowing lint. Trying to clear the effect just pushed it from one piece of equipment to another. The hero moving within ten feet of an emergency worker caused every strand of the woman's hair to begin floating in the air, which made Dauntless quickly retreat. He spent the rest of the video on efforts to ground the sparks using lampposts and fire hydrants.

"Sorry, I haven't seen anything like that." He called on his power, feeling the energy bloom around him. The titanic force that permeated every cell of his body, but always just manifested as a set of tiny sparks across his skin. He frowned as he focused on the sensation. "Maybe something. Like the air felt heavier when I used my power, but I'm not sure." He'd felt greasy since the effect went up, but had attributed that mostly to the fact that he was swimming in sweat after nearly an hour of frantic scrambling against the ABB rather than any power interaction.

That wasn't him. He had never been that good at finding creative uses for his power. As strong as something like control of a powerful electromagnetic field should be, the miniscule range had kept it from ever being that impressive. It basically concentrated into a barrier on its own, and the strength was an extension of that. Beyond the little sparking light show that he broke out for demonstrations there wasn't much he could do. Just function as a bog-standard brute.

It wasn't until he had seen that video of Mark that he realized exactly how bad he'd been about pushing his power. He wondered if Mark had always been able to pull off that kind of effect and had restrained himself, or if the shock of the news, of Neil's confession, had driven him into a new direction with his powers.

It wasn't a comforting idea. Upon seeing exactly what he was capable of there were few people in the city who would want to face Flashbang when he took the gloves off, and unlike them Neil actually had a reason to be the target of Mark's aggression. He wondered if this was some strategy on Flashbang's part, a way of showing Neil exactly what he was capable of before calling him out. It didn't seem in character for the man, but neither did taking on entire gangs by himself.

Flashbang had been holding back, or New Wave had been holding him back. It was something that had made a national circuit, another of those jokes about how terrifying and ridiculous Brockton Bay was. It was like people were treating them as a theme park or reality show instead of a real place with real people trying to deal with insanity.

That insanity had been part of the joke. See this video of a walking artillery barrage? He's a minor member of an independent team in Brockton Bay, because the city is just like that. Oh, and that mass of persistent explosions? His cape name is Flashbang.

That was the real joke, the reason it spread like wildfire. Easily circulated memes, a joke about capes with names that badly undersold their powers, or joke names for major capes that would do the same. Gif of Mark tearing up a street captioned with the word 'Flashbang' followed by any gif of a major cape moment, captioned with a joke name.

The most popular one was a compilation of the Triumvirate. Alexandria punching a villain brute through a building, Legend unleashing a storm of lasers, and Eidolon wielding a massive array of strange abilities. The images were captioned 'Fly Punch', 'Light Show', and 'Three Powers'.

If it weren't for everything else that was happening the meme probably would have spread even further. As it stood, it was impressive enough that it had managed to stand out from the mess around Apeiron, the ABB, and Uber and Leet.

The California tinker wasn't the least bit deterred by his lack of insight. "It's crazy, crazy stuff. Persistent electrical field to the point of being destructive, plus dispersion of visual light and infrared. Everything suggests it's something airborne, but no evidence of contaminants in the area. Effect hasn't shifted an inch since it was established. It's like he just plonked down some new kind of energy field, or something involving subatomic particles. Really, it looks more like a large scale, high level shaker effect, which would be crazy coming from a tinker, but…"

"Power tinker." Gully added. "You think that's right? That's how Apeiron works?"

"No way to tell." The other girl responded. "Maybe? I mean, he seems to know his stuff in that department, but he's not really lacking in any field, so I don't think we've exactly cracked the case just yet. I mean, just his website is proof enough of that. Damn thing's a F-ing work of art, and not like his 'usual' works of art."

The video on Gully's phone shifted to a mess composed of diagrams, computer code, and snapshots of the website in question that Neil doubted anyone less than a tinker would be able to follow. The way Gully's eyes glazed over at the site suggested he was right, and that this wasn't the first time she had been subjected to a barrage of such information.

"Uh, sure." The big girl offered lamely.

"I know, right?" The video of the other girl returned, and she started to gush over the technical concepts in play. "Just look at that coding. No bloat at all. It's like something from the dark ages when they had to budget for punch card holes, only scaled way up past anything we've got online today. There are tinkers with dedicated software specializations that aren't working at this level."

"Right…" Gully added, but Neil could see the significance of her statements.

He hadn't been immersed in the reactions to the two broadcasts, but a lot of people were embracing the 'power tinker' idea like it explained everything. Maybe it did, at least from a broad perspective, but even so it didn't provide any concrete limits on what Apeiron could do. That was the real reason people scrambled to understand a tinker's specialization. Not just because of the insight into what they could produce in the future, but because it gave a level of assurance over what they wouldn't need to deal with, what they could expect a tinker's work to focus on and be limited to.

There was a near certainty that Apeiron could do something that had some impact on parahumans or their powers. That idea was in play since Saturday night and had only gained confidence since then. But that clearly wasn't all the tinker could do. Unless you stretched the definition of 'powers' to encompass so many fields that the origin of that technology ceased to matter.

There was an alert sound from Gully's phone and the tinker looked to the side. "Hold up, we've got something."

"What?" Gully asked as Neil leaned in. It was odd not following the conversation by looking down, over someone's shoulder or head. He actually needed to lean around Gully rather than just look over her. He imagined she had the same problem, though was less likely to find people of comparable height, even in the cape scene.

"Site updates are live again." She said with overflowing excitement. "Apeiron's back at it. New information, even from inside the blackout zone."

"He can scan through that?" Manpower asked in concern. His feelings were still mixed on the aftermath. There was no question that Apeiron had saved the city from that ABB, and probably three times over. That made it awkward to level complaints against the aftereffects of his technology, particularly those that had come from damage or injury.

However, none of that changed the reality of what they were dealing with. A fifth of the city was either blacked out or cut off by said blackout. Trails of exotic power effects provided barriers and hazards through the North Docks. The persistent EMP field was one of the most frightening effects he could imagine, particularly if it was ever intentionally deployed. The idea that Apeiron could do so without even impeding himself was beyond frightening. It was the kind of thing that made any conflict a measure of absolute last resort.

"Sort of, but probably not?" Facetime replied. The ambiguity of the response was enough to keep Neil from immediately sinking into relief. "Updates are coming in, but piecemeal. Seriously good data, but loaded one thing at a time, not like from a city-wide scan."

The tinker shifted the display again, showing Apeiron's map of the city, now mostly concentrated on the North Docks. The ABB attacks that had pushed out further had been dealt with relatively swiftly, leaving most of the damage and injuries centered more towards their territory.

He remembered hearing some of the PRT teams talking about it, about what a relief it was that the rest of the city had been spared. That was technically true, but there was an attitude behind it that rubbed Neil the wrong way. Kind of a dismissal of the problems that hit half the city. He'd heard it before. Odd comments at fundraisers or when dealing with the more affluent side of the city. The general attitude that leveling the Docks would count as a lateral move at worse or urban renewal at best.

It was another disconnect, another way he felt separated from his own city, his own team, his own family. Sarah was more comfortable with that kind of thing. She knew how to deal with it, contextualize it, knew not to take it personally. He didn't. Years of bumbling through meet and greets that he never fully adjusted to probably contributed more to the 'dumb brute' image he had been saddled with than any element of his power.

It went back beyond the differences between New Wave and the Brigade. Beyond their leadership styles, or ideas for the future. Right from the start they were from different places. Sarah's family, well, they wouldn't consider themselves rich, but they moved at the edge of those circles. Within arm's reach of serious money.

From an outside perspective it was rich enough. The saying went something like rich enough to do anything, but not rich enough to do nothing. Rich enough to be in physiotherapy for a horse-riding injury rather than just getting worked over in an alley.

People didn't really get that dynamic. They saw the size difference, the fact that they had powers and didn't understand how things could be. How intimidating a slip of a girl could be. Sarah had been all confidence and determination right from the start. She'd had her powers for years, she understood them, and had plans for her future. She'd been through something he could only imagine, and had connections, experience, and support that he could only dream of. He'd gotten swept up in that, and it felt like he'd barely had control of his life from the moment he met her.

He pulled himself out of his musings and focused on the information Facetime was presenting. It won't do lamenting how overlooked half the city was while ignoring them to focus on his own issues.

The map showed a clear outline of the blackout zone, as well as trails for each of the elemental effects stretching out from the coast. They were individually colored, and the tinker was able to draw up information from them.

"These were filled in at the start of the update. No information on what caused them, but there's a full breakdown of each effect and any dangers associated with them. Like, a serious breakdown. I think this stuff is actually better than what you get from an OSHA sheet." She explained. "He's also done it for a bunch of the bomb effects that are still in play, but the really important part is this."

They watched as red icons started appearing on the map. Tiny figures of people being filled in across the blackout area. The tinker manipulated the site and one of the icons was expanded, displaying a block of information. Manpower quickly skimmed it. Physical description. Precise location. Medical status. Priority level.

"He's flagging casualties?" He asked.

"Exactly. Not all at once, there's kind of a progression." Manpower could see it. The trail moving through the area, filling in information of those injured in the conflict. Information that included precise directions and data on if and how the people in question were trapped.

"This is…" He couldn't even finish the sentence. This was beyond massive. It turned what would have been a near impossible search for survivors into merely a complicated retrieval operation.

Gully leaned forward, her eyes shining. "That means he's out there, right?" She pointed at the trail of information that had been filled in. "He's moving through the area, finding people? He's alright?"

There was a conflicted look on Facetime's face. "Not sure. No way to tell. Something's out there, but it might not be Apeiron. Could be a drone, robot, or something else."

It was the truth. There was no way to know what was out there. It could be Apeiron or one of the robots he seemed to be able to build so easily. From everything they had seen Apeiron should be able to heal the reported injuries as easily as breathing, but that wasn't happening. It was another mystery. How did his healing work, and what did it cost? It was easy to assume it was like Amy's, just a few minutes of contact to fix anything, but tinkers were complicated. From all reports he hadn't even taken contracts for medical work, regardless of the offers made. And from experience with Amy, he knew how excessive those offers could get.

That last point was probably related to the current PRT stance on Apeiron. The situation with Amy was a mess, but the only consensus seemed to be that whatever her condition, it was unlikely to be Apeiron's doing. It still wasn't enough to remove concerns and change policies, not with the city under the amount of stress it had seen over the past week. It made sense that the tinker would want to avoid any repeats of the witch hunt that his meeting with Amy had caused.

That thought brought back flashes of everything he'd been trying to work though, to ignore enough that he could stay on task. He felt doubly guilty for it, both for his actions and their impact on the family and team, and how the mess he caused had distracted Amy.

If Amy wasn't mastered by Apeiron, and signs were pointing against that, then what the hell had happened? Something had triggered master concerns, meaning either Amy had been exposed to something else without them noticing or she was in such a severe state that she was able to give a false positive to a master examination.

Both possibilities lead to the same conclusion. They had been negligent. If that hadn't been apparent enough from how things had played out Mike had driven it home. He would never have kept the truth about Amy's father from her for so long if he knew how much it had been bothering her. But he hadn't known. He hadn't looked. Things had been bad enough between him and Sarah that he was barely able to connect with Crystal and Eric. Checking up on Carol's family… it was beyond him, even without the complications of their history.

He pushed those thoughts away. There would be enough time for that later. Lord knew he had no shortages of things to blame himself for, but that wouldn't help things now. They had a list of people who needed help. That was the important thing. The question of how it had been generated, the motives of the person behind it, or any of his own problems with the situation didn't matter. Not when some of those icons were flashing and marked as critical.

He shook his head clear and turned to Gully. "We need to talk to the rescue workers. They may know where to go but getting there is another matter. They'll need all the help they can get."

The girl nodded slowly. "Yeah." She turned to the screen. "He's right. I need to get back out there."

"Got it girl. You go play architect with that power of yours. Show Brockton what San Diego can do." Gully shifted bashfully at the praise. Even through the proportions of her body he could recognize the expression. "I'll start on that data, see if I can find anything to help. I'll get the rest of the tinkers in on this too. They're desperate enough for information after dissecting that broadcast down to the last frame." The girl smiled. "Maybe I'll let Photonobit know you were the one to grab it for me. Get your name out there some more."

"Don't worry about it." Gully said quickly but sounded slightly conflicted. If Neil had to guess he would say she liked recognition but hated attention. It was something he could understand. "But thanks for your help. I'll keep the phone on the next time I'm in there, obviously."

"You're the best. Look after yourself. Manpower, good to meet you. Catch you later."

The call cut off and Gully quickly stowed the phone. She looked around at the various clusters of flashing lights and emergency vehicles. Barriers had been set up marking the end of the confirmed 'safe area', the point where radio communications were useless. The dead cars and dark street lights further down the street provided enough confirmation of the start of the danger area that no markings were necessary.

"Uh, where should we go next?" She asked. "Normally I'd go with the PRT, but this is search and rescue, right? Are they coordinating, or is that on another department?"

At this point Neil had no idea, but he was careful to keep that from Gully. He hadn't missed how much more comfortable she had been shadowing a local hero than trying to deal with things on her own. In truth he wasn't the best person for that role, not now and not in general, but he wasn't going to damage the limited confidence she had been able to build up in the disaster.

There were individual clusters for each of the agencies working in the area. It was probably a sign of just how badly the attack had thrown things off, and the overall lack of coordination between departments. That could be a nightmare in the best circumstances. Facing a coordinated bombing spree, attacks that blocked road access, multiple impassable trails cut through the city, and a blackout zone that you couldn't even drive through was so far from the 'best circumstances' that it practically on another continent.

"Fire and rescue services would probably be the best for this kind of work." He stated with as much confidence as he could manage. It wasn't a bad guess, and there was a decently large cluster in the area.

He led her towards the group consisting of a spectrum of members of the fire service, from administration to volunteers. It looked like every resource that could be spared was out in the field. It didn't take long for them to be spotted and a lieutenant from one of the companies rushed out to meet them.

"Manpower! It's good to see you." There was no hint of recognition regarding the current situation with his family. It seemed that the crisis was enough to temporarily take precedence over that bit of gossip.

"Glad to be able to help, lieutenant. This is Gully, one of the emergency volunteers. She's joining us from San Diego." He gestured to the girl behind him who carefully watched the man's reaction.

"Nice to meet you, and glad to have you in the city. I heard about some of your work tonight. It's a godsend to have you here now." The man quickly gestured towards a table that had been set up around a laptop and pair of tablets. "You've seen the development with the map?"

Manpower nodded. "Locations of casualties and medical information."

A space was cleared for them around the table, quite a lot of space, though likely just respect for the presence of capes rather than their size in particular. "Not just that. Damage reports are being filled in. It's not automatic, but it's enough to plot routes that we could take in and get those people out."

He looked over the screens. They had been updated with descriptions of blocked roads, active bomb effects, or other obstructions. "That's a lot to deal with."

The man nodded. "Might be too much in some cases, but with you here…"

Manpower understood. "We can help clear the route. Get your men in."

"And the trucks." One of the volunteers added.

Neil raised an eyebrow in surprise. The man indicated behind him. "Anything modern burns out in there, but some stuff still works. Older diesels seem to be the most reliable. No lights, but it'll be better than trying to move injured people by hand."

"We put out a request through the volunteer departments and anyone they could call in." The lieutenant explained. "Even some of the older engines are able to operate in that mess. Everyone's chipping in. Even the Dockworkers and Teamsters are out doing what they can."

The man sounded somewhat proud of that, but also a little concerned. It was an admirable showing of disaster response, but also an indication of how badly things had gone. It was also a potential liability. That many people trying to act, would want to act. They would be tripping over each other before long just due to the communication issues.

"So, you need us to clear the roads?" He asked. It would really be Gully with him maybe shifting a chunk of debris here and there, but it was clear the girl was more comfortable with him acting as the social contact for this kind of stuff. He just hoped she could get the credit she deserved after things settled down.

"That's right. We're working with medical services, transporting paramedics to the high-risk cases." The lieutenant explained, then pointed to the flashing red marks on the map. "PRT sent out a message. They're dispatching to those in critical condition."

"After they take the time to confirm the data is accurate." The other man added. "But we need to start moving now."

There was a sharp edge to the man's tone, and Neil could see slight nods of agreement on some of the gathered rescue workers. He knew the look and could understand it. The Protectorate, PRT, in fact every hero group in the city had been doing a terrible job of containing the week-long disaster that led to this night. Cracks were showing and people were becoming disillusioned with the system. Not enough to direct any ire at him or turn down help, but he had the sense that the grandeur of Brockton's cape community wouldn't be the same in the wake of this night, no matter what the heroes managed to accomplish.

He followed their gaze across an empty parking lot to where a few PRT vans had assembled. Armored agents in full gear milled around, occasionally checking equipment inside one of the vans. They pulled back from a huddled conference of their own and Neil felt his heart stop.

Three white uniforms, splashed with purple, red, and blue. Across the distance Lady Photon, Sarah, looked up and locked eyes with him.

If this was a movie, they would probably have rushed to each other. Declared their love and how happy they were that the other was safe. Just embrace the moment and forget all the pain that had driven them apart. The years that had eroded their relationship. The building distance until they were sleeping in different bedrooms, only avoiding separation for the sake of the team. The horrible betrayal that lurked at the start of their marriage that had been dragged into the light. The pain, the neglect, the sense of separation that happened no matter what they tried.

Of course, it didn't happen. It wasn't some movie, it was life. He was secretly grateful for the distance, the separation that kept him from seeing the full depth of pain on his wife's face. Even from across the gap he could practically feel the hurt and pain radiating off her.

Sarah gave him one last look before she shot into the air. Not the elegant liftoff she usually did, with waves to people on the ground and a bit of a lightshow for effect. Straight up like a rocket until she was a speck in the sky, then a sharp turn to jet into the distance. Eric and Crystal were left standing awkwardly with the PRT agents, looking conflicted. They exchanged some quick words before Eric launched after his mother at his more sedate speed and Crystal lifted off the ground, floating slowly towards their group.

The mood amongst the rescue workers had completely changed. Before it had been weary, but with a hopeful edge. The city was out of the active threat it had seen for the past week, at least as far as any of them could tell. It had reached a point where they could do something about it, they could help. Sure, they were facing catastrophic damage, mystery tinker effects, still active bomb blasts, and whatever the hell had been emitted from Apeiron's injuries or damaged technology, but they had come together, they had rallied, and they were going to make a difference. They were Brocktonites and they weren't going to let this beat them.

The resilience of the average citizen in the face of civic disaster wasn't quite as pronounced as their reaction to collapsing family dynamics. A second hand awkwardness had passed through the group with most of those present making a point to avoid looking at either Manpower, Laserdream, or the departing forms of Lady Photon or Shielder.

At least they had the decency to avoid commenting on it.

"Why don't you take some time to go over the route with Gully? She'll be doing the real heavy lifting here. I'll give you some space." There was a slight pause before the lieutenant took the excuse and pulled the California Ward towards the table, going over the various obstructions that Apeiron had highlighted on his miraculous data system. The rest of the workers pointedly ignored Manpower, allowing him to slip away and move to meet his daughter halfway between the fire service and PRT teams.

Crystal moved slowly forward as she floated towards him, glowing faint red in the dark of the city. That feeling of oddness, of looking up instead of down to speak to people, it didn't escape him that it happened most often with his own family. When the scale of his growth spurts became apparent, the amount his power had affected his teenage development, he had jokingly thought that it was some poetic attempt to keep up with Sarah, to reach her level.

That was less of a joke after Crystal and Eric got their powers. He was already lagging behind the rest of the team. It hadn't been that bad when Mike and Jess were with them. Back then Sarah was the only flyer. She had to work around the limits of the rest of the team. Overwatch, scouting, and generally moving at a pace he could manage.

Then they lost Jess, and essentially lost Mike as well. Sarah started pushing harder, working for more aggressive strategies, faster responses. Carol could hit ridiculous speeds in her breaker state, so for a while that was the plan. The sisters taking point while he and Mark did their best to keep up.

Then Crystal triggered and keeping up wasn't even a possibility. Then Vicky and Eric followed her. Suddenly more than half of New Wave could fly. He and Mark were barely figured into the new tactics being developed for the team. Mark had made jokes about whether they should start carrying towels and juice boxes as part of their equipment loadout.

Dark humor, and probably a warning sign. Neil had known Mark had problems from the start. He hadn't known how bad they were until Carol confided in him. It was another failure, another strike against him. He should have done something about it. But he didn't.

He hadn't stepped up back when he only had a hint that something was wrong, back when he was the team leader. He barely felt that he deserved the position and wasn't confident enough to raise that kind of concern. When he found out exactly what Mark was dealing with, he hadn't done anything. How could he? What, was he supposed to offer support to the man he betrayed based on information he received while in bed with Carol?

He wondered if the guilt over everything was why he'd been so happy to hand the reins to Sarah. Giving up his dreams of what the team could be in order to avoid responsibility for what it had become under his guidance. It wasn't like he knew what would actually make a difference in a situation like that. Beyond encouraging the man to get outside help, and maybe offer some understanding, what could he do?

It wasn't like anyone else had stepped up either. Mark's depression was an open secret in the family, just like the state of his own marriage. With how bad things had been between him and Sarah he wondered if there would even be a reaction when the truth came out about that mistake.

That stupid, stupid mistake. What defense could he even offer with respect to something like that? None. There was no defense. Nothing he could say that would even begin to excuse what he'd done.

Young and stupid? He wasn't that young, and he had never been the impulsive type. He'd been cautious to the point of being meticulous. Most brutes were. When you were surrounded by people who could pop with a single careless swing it tended to instill a sense of caution, even in villains.

Was he supposed to blame the stress of the situation? The entire team was in the same boat. Trying to make their way in a cape scene that was still being defined. Saving up for the New Wave initiative while also being active heroes and holding down their own careers. Pressure of command? That just made it worse. He was supposed to be responsible for the team, and he had abused that trust.

Looking back, it just seemed to have happened. He didn't have the insight or self-awareness to pinpoint the moment where things had gone too far. He was feeling disconnected from Sarah, Carol was feeling disconnected from Mark. Flashbang was having more bad days, missing patrols. Lady Photon was pushing harder, covering more of the city in solo patrols, leaving them on the ground, together. Lightstar and Fleur only had eyes for each other, kids in love and being insufferably sweet whenever they got the chance.

There was no secret cause, no inciting incident. They had the opportunity, and Neil wasn't strong enough not to take it. You could call it a mistake, or an accident, but that would suggest it was a one-off, an outlier that they recognized couldn't happen again.

It did happen again. Even after Crystal was born. Even when everyone was planning their future, talking about where the team and their families would go. It wasn't until Vicky was born that Neil broke it off. And he had hated himself ever since.

That uncertainty weighed on him. It ate away at him, hollowing him out over the years until he felt like a cardboard shell brought out for press events and to distract villains during infrequent dust ups. Carol had dismissed his concerns. She wouldn't even entertain the possibility. But Vicky looked so much like Crystal. He worried about what that could mean, what might happen when she got her powers.

When she triggered, he confronted Carol again. Once more, she wouldn't hear it. In her world it wasn't even a possibility. It was like it didn't matter, like the question of if he was Vicky's father instead of Mark was completely irrelevant. And to Carol it was. She didn't care. Vicky was her daughter, and as far as the woman was concerned nothing else mattered.

He should have confessed everything right there. Just laid it out and let the team deal with it. It would have been better than dragging them down during a city-wide crisis. Instead, he was responsible for New Wave falling apart at the worst time possible.

Hearing about Apeiron's accusations, it had seemed like a way out. There was no point in running or hiding anymore. It was on an official record. It was going to be looked at by PRT analysts, and probably Protectorate thinkers. He and Sarah were practically separated and one step away from divorce. The least he could do, after all this time, was spare her the uncertainty and give her the courtesy of hearing from him, rather than some government data cruncher.

Stupidly, he thought she wouldn't care. He thought it would be just one more piece of evidence of how horrible their relationship was. Another note in the collapse of their marriage, just a step towards the point where she could somehow spin a separation without damaging New Wave's public image.

He was wrong. Horribly wrong. The hurt, the pain on her face when she listened to his confession, it opened up old wounds, pain of the early days of their time together, teenagers trying to make things work, figure out where things were going. He had forgotten about that time in their lives, but Sarah hadn't. He was shocked at how much she cared, how much those early days meant to her.

That was it. He suspected if he had announced some dalliance, some recent infidelity, taking place after their marriage was in shambles she wouldn't have cared, or not nearly as much as she did about this. But the fact that it happened years ago, when they were still happy, when they were still trying to make things work, that cut her deep.

And then there was the rest of that fucking transcript. The one tiny ray of light in the entire mess was Amy's confirmation of Vicky's parentage. He'd had no idea that she could read someone's DNA at a touch, at least not well enough to judge paternity. Just another thing about his family he'd been blind to. But she could tell, and she confirmed it. Vicky was Mark's daughter, not his. That should have been a relief, and it would have been, if not for Apeiron's follow-up statement.

Emotional connection. According to the tinker, that was how powers transferred, not genetics, but because of some significant link between the two people. Theories had been thrown around on that point, but the man had stated it with absolute certainty. It was easy to believe he knew what he was talking about, and even more so as time went on.

In Neil's opinion, that was what did it. Sarah was strong. She was the strongest person he knew. He couldn't imagine anything being too much for that woman, but everyone had their limits, and apparently this was hers. The idea that Neil had cared more about his tryst with Carol, her sister, and their potential illegitimate daughter, than he did about his own children. That was the point too far. That was what broke her. That was what led to the fight that sent him out of their house and what may have damaged New Wave beyond repair.

It was stupid, infuriatingly stupid, but he couldn't explain it. His time with Carol had been a mistake, not some hidden love that surpassed his feelings for his wife. Vicky hadn't been his secret favorite child; she had been a source of unending misery. If you wanted to say he had more of an emotional connection to Vicky then he couldn't deny that, but it wasn't out of affection. It was out of fear.

The uncertainty of the girl's existence had wormed his way into his mind and set up residence there. Worried about what it could mean, what it might mean, what he had done to Sarah, to Mark, to Vicky, all blameless but paying for his mistakes.

Vicky had gotten his powers, and Sarah hated him for it. He hated himself. He hated that his mistakes had caused that confusion, just as they had caused so much of the disaster the city was weathering. More than anything he hated what he had cost his own children.

Looking up at Crystal hanging in the air above the parking lot it came streaming back to him. It was his fault. He had been so obsessed over his mistakes, so worried about Vicky that he had cost his own children their chance at power. And at safety.

Crystal was a brilliant cape, one of the best young heroes in the city, probably the east coast, though he'd admit fatherly pride coloring his judgement in that. But she was vulnerable. He worried about her. Every time she took to the air, he thought about what could happen to her. She had a variation of her mother's powers. Stronger lasers and faster flight but weaker force fields. Much weaker.

Most people didn't realize how weak, and New Wave wasn't about to enlighten them. Crystal's fields couldn't stand up to the pressure of her using them as a springboard. The chance of them stopping a bullet was negligible. The armored panels in the girl's costume would only do so much. One lucky hit and it would be over for his little girl.

Eric has the opposite problem. He was fourteen now, and wanted to make a name for himself, fight villains and take risks. But he was slow in the air, his lasers were weak, and there was only so much he could do with his forcefields. He empathized with the boy complaining about getting to a fight after things were already over, with nothing to do but contain criminals that other people had caught.

If he had been a better father, a better person, then maybe his kids would have been better off. Nobody could really say how things would have gone, but anything, any hint of his power would have been an improvement. Crystal would have been protected as she flung herself into danger. Eric would be able to take action instead of just sitting on the sidelines playing protector.

He was particularly worried about that. Defensive capes with nothing else to offer tended to be pushed to defend against stronger and stronger effects, until they reached their limit. If you're a blaster or striker and your power isn't strong enough your target walks it off. If you're a mover and your power isn't strong enough you arrive too late, or the bad guy escapes. If you're a brute or force field user and your power isn't strong enough, you die.

That was the real price of his mistake. Not the team, not his marriage, not the stability of the city. It was his children's future, traded away through nothing but weakness on his part.

He realized he was still walking, still moving towards his daughter. Had all of that, nearly two decades of pent-up shame, regret, and failure, all played through his mind in the time it took to cross a parking lot? Or was he intentionally dragging this out. A grown man afraid to face his teenage daughter.

Clearly it was more the latter than the former. Crystal could fly fast enough to leave Vicky in her dust as she was floating forward by inches. He didn't know if he had matched her pace without realizing it, or she had matched his, but either way it was clear that neither of them was particularly looking forward to this conversation.

Finally, they reached the unspokenly agreed upon midway point. Neil stood and looked up at his daughter, floating maybe fifteen feet above the ground. He simultaneously wanted to tell her everything he could, and to avoid the conversation entirely. He wanted to apologize, to find out how she and Eric were doing, to check on Sarah. He wanted to offer reassurances he couldn't back up and to somehow try to make up for the mess he had caused.

But he couldn't. Those things would be difficult to say in the best of situations. This wasn't the place, and it wasn't the time. He had been half inside his head the entire evening, and that wasn't right. The city didn't care about his personal problems, only how his mistakes impacted it. He tried to clear the mess of emotions and clouds of thoughts choking his brain and looked up at his daughter.

Crystal looked tired. He knew he wasn't much better, but he felt awful about what she had been going through. It was another reminder of how far the mess had spread and who was paying for it. Sarah was a mess, and he wasn't welcome in the house. Of course, it would fall on Crystal to be the rock holding everyone together.

"Hi Crystal." He called up. He didn't want to, but that was the point. He had ignored his mistakes for years and they had only built to a crisis point. Maybe taking action, making an effort would make things worse, but so would sitting back and doing nothing. He had to try.

Crystal stared down like she wanted to open up with her lasers at the power level they didn't let the public know about. For a moment he was afraid she might, and a self-pitying part of himself welcomed the idea. Fortunately, Crystal was better than that. She schooled her expression and dropped down to a few feet above his eyeline. Enough to glare down without impeding conversation.

"Hi Dad." She looked like she wanted to say more and was almost visibly swallowing her words. She glanced at the fading blue and purple lights of her brother and mother flying off into the night and sighed. "It's good to see you out tonight. The city needs all the help it can get."

She was talking business. A safe topic, as far as they went. He nodded. It was probably better to stick with that. Anything emotionally heated right now could cost recovery time for someone who didn't have it. "I chipped in with the general efforts when the attack started. Did some light recovery work after the blackout set in. Looks like there's a coordinated recovery effort being put together. I'm going to do what I can to help out with that."

His daughter nodded in understanding, and he reflected on how strange it was to be trying to figure out his role in a disaster. Sarah had been micromanaging the team for so long, basically since the moment they had announced the New Wave initiative. There was never a question of where they were supposed to be or what they were supposed to be doing. He hadn't needed to find his own way, not since the Brigade was finished.

It had been comforting as well as slightly smothering. That had been part of the dread. New Wave had been such a big part of his life for so long, and Sarah had been there even longer, longer than anything else. From the start of his life as a cape she'd been part of it. He couldn't imagine being a hero, being Manpower without Sarah there.

But he knew it was going to end. They were drifting apart even without the affair coming to light. Now he was exactly where he was afraid he would end up, running around at street level trying to figure out how to make a difference and hoping he wasn't messing anything up.

"The Protectorate put out a call. They need anyone who can fly into the blackout area. I… I set it up for Mom and Eric." She sounded almost embarrassed about that. It would have been unbelievably presumptuous by the normal operations of the team, but right now he was just grateful someone was looking out for the family. He hated that it had to be Crystal, but at the same time he was proud of her for it. He was proud of her for a lot of things.

A slight smile crept onto his face, and his daughter immediately noticed it. "What?" She pressed.

He looked up and smiled a bit wider. "I heard about your run in with Apeiron on Monday."

His daughter cringed and wrapped her arms around herself. "God, don't remind me."

"I heard you did well." He offered encouragingly.

She shook her head. "It was stupid. I was angry and scared out of my mind. I should never have done that warning shot. I mean, what he could have done…"

The unsteadiness in her voice brought back all of his concerns about her safety. He did his best not to show that to his little girl. She might be floating over him, but the way she was nearly shaking she could have been five years old again and telling him about a nightmare she just had.

"No, you read the situation right and made a good call." He assured her. He wasn't sure about that himself but doubting it wouldn't do any good now. "Apeiron doesn't strike out randomly." He didn't miss the irony of making that statement while standing next to a giant parahuman disaster area apparently created at random, by Apeiron. Well, Apeiron's injuries. The part about him not intentionally striking out at random still held. "You made a sensible call, kept your distance, and got closer to a diplomatic exchange than anyone else in the city. I'm proud of you for that."

Crystal relaxed slightly and dropped to the level of his eyeline. "It's… good to see you Dad." She chewed her lip slightly before continuing. "Things with Mom, they aren't good. I don't know what's going to happen, but… you know."

Neil nodded. "I do. Thank you for everything you're doing, for your mom and brother. It means a lot."

She snorted. "Not like they've been holding classes this week. I've got the time." The mirth quickly died, and she shook her head before looking around. "This, it's a bad one, isn't it? Even by Brockton's standards."

He caught the reference to 'Brockton's Standards', but let it pass. "Yeah, this is up there. I'd say the last time it was this bad was when you had the Teeth, the Empire, Marquis and the Slaughterhouse Nine all going at it."

Crystal's eyes widened. "I remember that. Not well, but… God, that was a mess."

"You were five at the time. It was probably the worst thing we faced outside the Boston Games." They had done everything they could to shelter the kids from that nightmare, but everybody living in the city remembered those days. Just like they would remember these. He steeled himself as he looked around. "The city made it through that. It'll pull through now."

His daughter relaxed slightly at his reassurance, then glanced over at the group of rescue workers, and the form of Gully towering over them. "Who are you working with? That woman over there?"

"That's Gully. Ward from California, part of the relief forces." Though apparently not officially. "I ended up as a sort of liaison for her. She's a shaker with earth control powers."

Crystal brightened slightly at that. "God, do we ever need that now."

"Trust me, I know. I've seen the damage." He assured her.

"It's even worse from the air, if you can believe that. You've seen Apeiron's map." Neil nodded. "It's worse in person. Even outside of the blackout zone." She glanced over to the darkened area of the city. "That's where you're headed?"

"That's right." He indicated towards the group of firefighters and emergency workers. "They're planning out the recoveries. I'll be working with Gully to clear routes for access. Probably be digging people out after that. No idea how long we'll be at it, but at least we know where to go."

He could see the conflicted agreement in his daughter's eyes. Whether they liked it or not, they were leaning on Apeiron for this. He knew, or could at least try to convince himself, that there was probably no malice in the tinker's statements, the ones that triggered everything. When he was alone with just his thoughts it was easier. He could blame himself. With Crystal, when he could see the impact those statements had on his daughter, his family… Well, it made him want to find someone to blame.

Crystal probably felt the same way. Apeiron was just the person who had set off the first domino. It was easy to assume he knew about the chain of events he was setting into motion, but there were limits to that. There was a point where the state of the city, the shortsightedness of its officers, took over. Apeiron may have set off the first domino, but he didn't build the array of precariously balanced relationships and wasn't maintaining the chaos.

It stung that they were relying on the person who started this for help, but it was the best option they had. Better than what they ever would have managed even with the full team on hand and a focused PRT. He had been wallowing long enough.

The sound of a diesel engine starting confirmed his stance. Personal problems could wait. He wasn't going to fix anything here. That would take time and effort. From Crystal he got the sense she understood.

"Dad, be careful out there." She asked. "It's a mess, and it's still dangerous."

"You too sweetie." He replied.

She smiled at him and blinked with moist eyes. "I need to get back to Mom and Eric. Goodbye Dad. I love you."

"Love you too." He called back as she waved and rose into the night. A tension he hadn't even noticed lifted from his shoulder as she went. That imagined nightmare of burned bridged, hateful insults, and unbridled scorn vanished. Maybe it was just for the duration of the current crisis, but his daughter didn't hate him. She could talk with him. She was looking after the family. It was enough to give him hope that he might find a way though this mess, both in terms of the attacks and his own mistakes.

His steps felt lighter when he returned to the group, all of whom were pointedly not looking at him. At this point he didn't care. After all, wasn't that what they had signed up for when they committed to the New Wave movement? Public identities meant public accountability. They hadn't gone into it with the intention of having their personal lives on public display, but that was essentially what had happened. Only instead of showing the truth of themselves it just added extra layers of masks, more veils between them and the people they were supposed to be accountable to.

It was no wonder the movement never picked up momentum. Anyone who looked could tell how artificial their front was. You got more honesty out of a reality show. Being personally accountable for your mistakes had only caused them to make sure none of their mistakes saw the light of day. It was no wonder that the city had been eager to stare when the cracks started to show.

He put some confidence into his step as he closed on the group. Not the rehearsed press conference confidence he had trained himself to exude. The kind he felt when he was first starting out, when nobody knew what this cape thing would turn into and the world was new and uncertain. That was where he was headed, and a new uncertain future for the city and whatever became of the team. Might as well get used to it and do what he could to help it along.

"Sorry about that. How's the planning coming along? We all set to head out?" He asked with as much energy as he could muster. The lieutenant took a moment to process things before quickly nodding.

"We've gone over everything with Gully, all that's left is to load up." He indicated to the vehicles behind him. "We're splitting out people who know the area since GPS is going to be useless for several reasons. Also have someone running off hardcopies of Apeiron's map from every copy shop in the area. It's the best we can manage."

"I know the area pretty well, if you need help navigating." It was true. Two decades of cape work and regular patrols had given him a knowledge of the roads of the city that rivaled veteran cab drivers.

"That'll be a big help." The lieutenant replied. "We've got you and Gully riding with Drew Rogers." He indicated to a thirty something man standing next to a pickup that was somehow both more modern and decidedly older than the vehicles around it. The Ford Ranger looked to be from the late 80s which put it decades ahead of most of the other vehicles able to operate in the blackout zone, but somehow it seemed to have twice as many years on it. It was a truck with city miles, but somehow carried them well. Despite its age and obvious it looked reliable, exceptionally so.

"Yeah." The lieutenant responded, seeing his expression. "Know how it looks, but the man says it runs like a dream. Probably the fastest and most maneuverable vehicle we have on hand, and should be reliable. He was caught in the middle of the docks when the blackout went up and all he lost was his lights and radio."

"Lucky man." Neil muttered as he was led towards his driver.

"Don't I know it." Drew assured him. "Manpower, it's an honor to meet you. I swear, this thing's been my good luck charm. We won't let you down."

The man's earnestness was infectious and Neil smiled back at him. "Good to hear it."

Drew nodded enthusiastically. "I've got things set up in the back for your friend. Do you want to ride with her, or up front?"

He glanced at Gully who was self consciously trying to shift onto the bed of the truck without overly depressing the rear suspension. "I'm good in the back. You have the route?" He asked.

The man nodded again. "Know this area pretty well, and have a printout." He lifted a glow stick and cracked it. "They're handing out these party favors for lighting." The man grinned. "Someone suggested we ride in with oil lanterns and the fire fighter nearly had a conniption."

Neil returned the grin and accepted and offered glow stick. "Well Drew, I guess we're in your hands."

"I won't let you down." He assured them. The man moved into the cab and Manpower climbed into the truck bed across from Gully.

The Ward looked and smiled. "You've got a really good relationship with the people of this city. It's really impressive to see."

Neil could only shrug. "Mostly inertia at this point. We've been a fixture in the city for years. They know what to expect from us."

It took him a second to realize he had spoken in the plural and given a stock answer, like he would have when talking about New Wave. Except that wasn't the case anymore. He had to get used to standing on his own, without the team. Gully picked up on the slip, but decided not to comment. The engine of the truck revved and Drew slid open the rear window of the cab.

"You guys ready to roll out?" The man called back.

Neil looked over at Gully and saw her optimistic smile. Whatever was waiting in the dark, there were people who needed help, and they could make a difference.

"Yeah." He answered. "We are."

Addendum Marissa

Marissa sat at the cold steel table in the cavernous room. It was bigger than what the Travelers usually had to make do with, but there was no comfort in that fact. Coil had stepped in and perfectly addressed all the little concerns and complications they normally needed to deal with when setting up in a new city.

It should have been a relief, but it wasn't. It was unnerving. It would have been unnerving with just how prepared he had been for them. With everything else that had happened it took the situation to a new level. Like a Twilight Zone episode combined with an awkward family reunion.

Despite the size of the room she felt claustrophobic, like the walls were pressing in. That was probably because she knew how deep underground they actually were. She didn't like the thought of what her powers could do in enclosed spaces, and inside a complex like this she didn't even want to risk using them. That was the infuriating paradox of her abilities. Immense power with limited control. Even with years of practice she could barely have a presence on the field without being an immediate and lethal threat to everyone present.

She tried to distract herself by checking on the room's other occupant. Jess sat at the table across from her, her wheelchair locked in place while she sketched in one of her notebooks. The auburn-haired girl claimed it was a tactical measure, preparation for their next fight. The book, like so many others, was filling up with monsters, demons, and various half ethereal forms. Options ready for her to use when the situation called for it.

Except they weren't, or wouldn't be. Marissa envied the versatility of Jess's power compared to her own, but she knew that versatility never really got to see the light of day. At least not nearly as much as the girl would have wanted. There was always a concern about over specializing and ending up useless in the field. In addition, the more complicated forms, the ones with exotic abilities, burned through Jess's reserves more quickly than simpler, straightforward forms.

She could create anything she could imagine, but spent most of her time in some variation of a strong and tough beast-like creature in order to cover holes in the rest of the team's skillset. It was like they were back in their gaming club, only now locked into their character classes. The only one with potential to get out of their permanent DPS, utility, or tank role was Jess, and she was consistently forced to play tank thanks to their lack of defensive powers.

Particularly after they lost Cody.

She forced down a wave of emotion that came roiling to the surface. It wasn't the time to get caught up in that. Not right after they had gotten out of that situation. Boston, it had been bad. They were at the end of their rope when they arrived, barely being able to manage Noelle's condition anymore. Even if the meeting with Accord hadn't turned into a disaster it might have been the last time they could have safely relocated.

Each city, each place they set up had been more difficult, more desperate. New York had been hard, and she still didn't know the details about why they had to leave so suddenly. Krouse had been taking on more and more responsibility as Noelle got worse, but he didn't have the leadership or amenable personality that came naturally to her oldest friend. There was always a cruel edge to his actions. It could be reassuring if he had your back, if he was directing it at someone else, but it was horrible to deal with directly. That was probably what made it so hard for Cody to cope with him.

She wondered about that, if there had been something in New York, something that happened with Cody, Krouse, and Noelle. Something that made it so they had to leave in the middle of the night, abandoning the base they had set up, the supplies they badly needed, all without a clear or satisfactory explanation. Something that drove Cody to attack Noelle. That sent Marissa running for help, and almost dying to Accord?

She didn't like it, but she hadn't liked most of her life since they arrived on this Earth. She didn't like following Krouse's lead on things she was intensely uncertain about. She didn't like betting on such a new and uncertain cape. She didn't like that he was their only chance, both to save Noelle and get back home.

And she didn't like this place. Both this base and this city. Even if it was their best hope, after all the things they'd done, all the battles they'd fought and damage they'd caused, all the sacrifices, she didn't like this. Most of all she didn't like how, no matter how they felt on the matter, they were all willing to accept it.

That was the biggest thing. She didn't like that she was willing to accept it. That she knew she could accept it, live with it. She felt uncomfortable in the cavernous space of Coil's villain base, but it was better than camping out in run down truck stop motels, hiding Noelle in a U-Haul while taking shifts to try to keep her calm. Constantly being mistaken for a runaway or prostitute if she had to go out alone, knowing she couldn't use her power to defend herself if something happened, not unless she wanted to reduce the attacker to ashes and completely expose the group.

She had thought she was better than that. That they all were. That they would be able to get through this together, support each other. That was before two years on the road, before the little frustrations between team members bloomed to intolerable assaults on your senses that you could never escape from. Before the jobs became more dangerous and shifted from morally gray to something just shy of the worst villainy possible.

And that was where they were going. She could tell from how Krouse had been behaving, little comments meant to soften the idea, restating difficulties of logistics and the kind of mercenary work they were able to find. Maybe if things had gone well with Accord, if they had come out of it at a profit rather than needing to pay off her interruption, then maybe they could have stayed afloat for a few more months.

But that hadn't happened, and their options were limited. It made Coil's offer much simpler. Krouse didn't even need to spell it out for them. Either they accept and get everything taken care of and receive a potential lifeline on both returning home and saving Noelle, or they'd need to become a lot less picky about their work.

That meant going after hard targets, or taking much more violent missions. That meant she would be on the front lines. Their heavy hitter, finally needing to step up and cut loose.

She didn't want that. She didn't want to have to live with being that kind of person, with doing that kind of thing. She also knew that she would be one to take point and the one to attract the attention for the new direction of the team. That when the Protectorate and gangs started breaking out the big guns they would be pointed at her.

So, she had chosen. And when they arrived Coil showed them how he was so certain he would be able to help them. That little girl, drugged and forced to comply, a caged thinker, like you hear rumors about but hope to never see.

She had hoped that someone would speak up, say something about the situation. If not in front of Coil then at least afterwards. Make a point or take a stance that she could noncommittally agree with, not enough to have to offer an alternative, but enough to show that she wasn't happy with this. That she wasn't the kind of person who was okay with a child being tortured if it meant they could get what they wanted.

But they hadn't said anything. Not about Coil's 'Pet'. No, they were busy. New city, new base, new responsibilities. Needed to get settled, get the lay of the land, research local capes, get up to speed on Coil's procedures, and make sure Noelle was adjusting properly.

They'd been trying to distract themselves, to avoid thinking about things. At least that's what she hoped they were doing. Luke was getting on with Coil's mercenary soldiers, Oliver was as unreadable as ever, and Krouse seemed genuinely happy at their opportunity. Of course, to the rest of them she had probably seemed perfectly content as well. Any excuse to distract themselves from the problem.

Then the ABB attack had started, and they didn't need to look for distractions. They had been presented with the mother of all of them.

"Mars?" Marissa looked up at Jess. "You alright?"

She realized too late that she had been staring blankly into the surface of the table. Any attempts to look like she was content with the situation were a lost cause. Fortunately, they had more than enough to talk about without needing to discuss the little girl in the hospital gown. Prophecies of hope delivered from the mouth of an abused child…

She let out a slow breath. "It's this whole situation. I mean, I don't know how to deal with it."

Jess nodded and Mars wondered if the girl was agreeing with that assessment of the afternoon's events, or their situation in general.

"It's a big shake up." Jess said, making the understatement of the century. "What was shown out there, Lung's death, the damage to the city, it's going to have a huge impact. At least we got set up ahead of time."

Marissa tried to place the other girl's meaning. "You think it will be easier for us because of this?" She asked.

The wheelchair bound girl just shrugged. "Easier than if we had to move Noelle through that disaster, or through what the city will be like over the next couple of days. Afterwards, who knows? The ABB's been knocked down, and nobody can say what things are going to look like in the aftermath."

It was logical, clinical, and about as far from how Marissa felt about the situation as you could possibly get. Jess had always been prone to getting caught up in her own little world. For her gaming was entirely about escapism, something Mars could understand, if for different reasons. Her power had taken what was a personality quirk and turned it into something Marissa was legitimately concerned about.

Jess already lived with barriers that made it harder to keep up with the rest of the group. The vial she had gotten hadn't provided any of the purported healing effects, but it had let the girl walk. And swim, and fly, and a hundred other things. Now getting caught up in her own mind wasn't just a character quirk, it was a necessity of the mechanics of her superpower.

If they were in a better place then maybe someone would have spoken to her, done something, made efforts to keep the girl grounded. She suspected Oliver tried, but Jess wasn't comfortable around the boy. At least not anymore. Oliver's powers made him intimidating and uncomfortable to deal with for entirely different reasons than Noelle. So despite the good he tried to do he was mostly left to manage things on his own. Besides, Noelle took up most of his time, and no one wanted to distract from that.

So they just left the potential issue of Jess's detachment, and would continue to leave it. Jess was looking at city wide devastation on the scale of an Endbringer attack, something they had far too much personal experience with, and commenting like it was the latest episode of some weekly teen drama like Broken Hills. Like fundamental shifts in the power structure of the city, if not the country, were just upcoming plot points for her to watch.

Probably because that's what she'd be doing. Watching. Most of her time awake was just for the sake of building charge. When was the last time she had actually gone out to do something with the rest of the team, or just because she enjoyed it? Basic forms let her stretch her charge, meaning if she was careful she could spend most of her time with her power activated. Jess was living more in her projections than her own body. It was no wonder she was detached.

"You're okay with that? Being part of the power struggle in the city?" Mars asked.

Jess glanced down at her sketchbook again. "I guess? I mean, we knew what we were signing up for. We were already taking sides. This is just going to be fighting over scraps rather than being part of the main event."

Marissa didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't know if Jess was more detached than she thought, or had a better grasp on the situation than she did. Instead, she fell into silence and let the other girl draw her monsters.

It probably would have been easier if she could actually DO something. Paradoxically she both wanted nothing to do with the current situation and was desperate to take any action. Everyone else had found some way to occupy themselves, but she was left floundering. All the things she would normally be rushing to manage upon arrival in a new city were already taken care of by Coil. In most places down time was a precious and rare treasure, but not here. It wasn't like she could take the evening off and go see the city. They were confined for their own safety as much as anything else.

Krouse had offered to deploy the team when the attack had started, but Coil had held them back. Apparently there were anti-thinker effects in play that meant he couldn't guarantee their safety. Guarantee. That was the important part of his statement. The implication was that he would normally be able to guarantee their safety. The stronger implication was that he could also guarantee their lack of safety if he so chose.

So instead they had sat and watched as the insanity of Brockton Bay played out before them, and did so on a level beyond anything they could have prepared themselves for. Everyone's take away was different, but the central theme was clear. This city was a madhouse, and they were stuck in the middle of it.

A metallic tapping drew her attention to the door of the room. Marissa spotted Krouse in his full costume, leaning against the metal frame and rapped his knuckles against the steel surface.

"Team meeting in the main conference room. Coil's doing a full brief on the situation."

Her gratitude for the distraction almost was enough to override her dread at having to deal with the villain mastermind again. Desperately she hoped the girl wouldn't be there, that maybe she could have a break from thinking about what they had gotten themselves entangled with.

She grabbed her helmet and nodded, heading for the door. Their identities, such as they were, were already open to Coil, but if Krouse was in full costume then this was a serious meeting. Appearance mattered, and having someone casually attired when everyone else was in full battle dress would work against them. If they had more time, or weren't actually staying with the villain in question then Jess would probably have made a projection to send in her place.

The girl followed behind her and Krouse, easily managing a speed from her wheelchair that always surprised Marissa. Moving through the halls it did impress her how a supervillain lair was more wheelchair accessible than ninety percent of the places they had stayed over the past two years. It was another one of those things that spoke to how well-prepared Coil was, but that worked against any comfort that would normally bring.

Luke and Oliver were already seated when they arrived. Jess wheeled her chair to an open spot at the table while Krouse took his place in the middle. As Marissa slid into her seat, she saw a display screen on the wall flicker on, showing an image of Noelle's upper body.

Her oldest friend looked like her oldest friend. That is, with the limits of the framing and a few other small changes from her usual appearance she looked like she might have just finished one of their gaming matches. Maybe it was that her hair had finally been washed, or the new clothes that had been provided, but that wouldn't cover the complete change, the feeling that she was seeing a different person from the one she had helped load into the truck back in Boston.

Hope. Noelle was hopeful. How long had it been since she had seen that on her friend's face? How long since it had been seen on any of their faces. It was encouraging, heartening, and almost made her forget that they were here to help conquer a city and facilitate the torture of a little girl.

At least the girl wasn't present, thankfully.

Looking around she could see everyone else had picked up on Noelle's mood and was brightening up. For her it was another one of those things, things that should be positive, but really just exposed a deeper problem. That problem being that nobody in the group had anywhere near as strong a connection with each other as they did with Noelle. Even after two years of fighting side by side Noelle was still the center of the social circle. That was the one thing that had held while everything had crumbled.

Part of her thought it had always been like that and she had never noticed. She never thought that until after crossing over to Earth Bet, and even then she didn't start thinking that right away. Not until she had to spend months on end with the rest of the group.

Krouse was working to keep them together, on task and motivated. He had a lot of speeches about how they needed to stick it out, be there for each other and never abandon anyone. That sentiment had died with Cody, but she couldn't complain. Literally couldn't, not when her life was the alternative.

Krouse acted like the strength of their friendship would carry them through, but Marissa had realized the truth long ago. There was no friendship between them. She wasn't sure if there ever had been. Sure, there was cooperation, trust, and some level of comfort with each other, but not friendship.

The relationships in the group, at least the ones that held, hadn't been a web. They had been spokes on a wheel. Spokes that lead to Noelle. Those were the ones that had held. She had nothing in common with Luke, Jess, Krouse, Oliver, or Cody. Thinking about their situation she would probably never have spent time with them outside of the team. Noelle had brought each of them in and been the center of everything.

She wondered if that was why things were so bad after she broke up with Cody. Noelle was friends with everyone. After they broke up Cody was 'friends' with Noelle. He had no connections to the rest of the team that didn't go through her. He was left on a team where nobody had any connection to him, and all the drama of the relationship had been blamed squarely on his actions. Really, he seemed to be sticking around out of spite more than any affection for the group.

In her dark moments it had seemed intentional. Like the team had been managed incredibly carefully. That Noelle had put the dynamic in place, either intentionally, or because she thought she was doing something good, recruiting people who needed her. Every one of them was isolated in their own way, unlikely to have fallbacks or other options. Everyone was essentially 'saved' by being invited to the group. She had to admit, Noelle was good at that. She could make you feel included, valuable, and appreciated. After a lifetime of dealing with the uber example of a stage mother it was a relief for Marissa to experience that.

None of them could measure up. Well, almost none of them. She glanced over at Luke, possibly the only exception, the one who had tried to step up, reach out, and support others. He had hosted games, checked on team members, and tried to be there when he was needed. That was his background, team sports. It came naturally, just not as naturally as it had for Noelle.

That dark part of her wondered if that was why Noelle had recruited him, to have someone to hold up the team for her. It was horrible thinking that about your friend, someone you had known your entire life, but came with the situation they were in. Their team didn't come together naturally, Noelle had assembled it, and at times it seemed she had done so with a level of purpose and direction, conscious or not, that kept a group of people who would never be friends working as a functional unit.

Until things started falling apart, until they had to function without Noelle. Then the cracks started to show. Everyone pulling in different directions for different reasons. The threat of their situation, the pressure of what would happen to them kept them pressed together, but that would only hold for so long.

That was how she knew it wasn't Noelle. The problem wasn't her friend secretly pulling together a group of isolated people out of some kind of narcissism or egocentric behavior. The problem was them. You only had to look at how they had worn themselves down over the past two years. Those thoughts, the moments when she wanted to doubt Noelle, or question Krause, or find some way, any way out of this nightmare, they were moments of weakness. Moments of damage. Evidence of the real danger looming over all of them.

The Simurgh.

That was the one fact that they could never get away from. The plans, the influence, it was something they would have to live with for the rest of their lives. Krause had said it best. The Simurgh dragged people down, split them apart. The only way they could be sure to beat her was to stick together. To trust each other. To make sure they trusted and supported each other to the end.

Sometimes she forgot that. Sometimes she wanted to see the worst in her friends, in Krause, even in Noelle, but she couldn't let that happen. Not when they were so close, had gone through so much. She couldn't let her weakness be their downfall. None of them could.

That was probably why nobody spoke up, or questioned what was happening to the girl. This was the end of the line for them. There was no easy out, no second chance. If this didn't work out the team would be done. The Simurgh would have won. Once they were found out that would be it for all of them. It wasn't a question of making a bad choice. They had no choice at all.

She looked around the room and wondered if the rest of the team was having the same thoughts. She doubted Jess was, with how her detachment had gotten worse. With Krouse she couldn't tell if his encouragement was an act or if he still genuinely believed in his earlier convictions. Regardless, he certainly was committed to following through on this.

She remembered how Luke had been the pillar, the best part of the group. But that had changed. Maybe it was the Simurgh, but she wondered: maybe it was his power. His was exclusively destructive just like hers, and he'd had to take that point position she was terrified of being forced into. Or maybe it was just the months of mild villainy and itinerant lifestyle catching up with him. Either way he had closed off. The boy had nothing left to give the team. At this point he was nearly as isolated as Oliver.

Oliver. She could still just barely see the Oliver she used to know, buried under the effect of years of his power rebuilding his body and mind. Well, part of his mind. Oliver was smart. That was one of the more frightening things about his transformation. Gradual shifts in his face, height, and build were fine. You saw more extreme expressions from the most minor changer powers. It was different when you realized what was happening to your friend's brain.

Oliver already looked like he walked off the cover of a magazine, and that made it hard enough to approach him. He had taken to keeping Noelle company, something that probably did more harm than good in the long run. Noelle was trapped in a body mutating into a heinous monstrous form while dealing with Oliver's constant slide towards perfection. Add the fact that it was the second half of her vial that did it, the obvious connection that anyone could see, and it was easy to see why Noelle's bad days were getting worse.

She'd like to think that Oliver didn't realize what was happening, but if you managed to push past his reserved nature and talk to him for five minutes the second level of uncanniness set in. It quickly became clear exactly how much his powers had affected him.

Oliver didn't forget anything, not anymore. If his memory wasn't photographic it was damn close. He could handle mental calculations the likes of which you only saw in crazy Japanese contests. He had perfect time sense, at least down to the hundredth of a second. And all those were just the most obvious alterations, the ones that stood out.

Really talking to him revealed the truth. It was like getting a chance to talk to a master of a field. Those sudden profound insights, how he could describe a complicated concept in a way that made perfect sense, being able to instantly assess all the details of a situation and instantly come up with an effective solution.

It was profound, powerful, and should have been the team's most valuable asset. But all that power was buried under who Oliver used to be. That hadn't changed, and that was holding him back.

She understood. She had met his mother once, and could recognize the signs. Like her own situation, but somehow worse. No ballet career to focus on, just the overwhelming narcissistic personality of a smothering parent. Oliver hadn't gotten over that. Honestly, she hadn't either. Their life since arriving on this planet hadn't been the best situation for personal growth.

It was frustrating dealing with Oliver. He had a serious power, but was happy to be nothing more than the team's gopher. Or maybe he wasn't happy, maybe he had just accepted that as his lot in life. He could be terrifying if he actually leveraged his powers, but he never would, because he was as broken as any of them. As damaged.

More of the Simurgh's work on display.

She quickly banished that thought. Dwelling on that fact never went anywhere good. She gave Oliver one last glance before turning back to the team. She wasn't sure, but it looked like he had changed shape again. The process was slow, so it was hard to tell, but he was definitely bulkier than he had been. Taller too.

No question as to why. Oliver changed form based on whatever he thought was the best shape, the most impressive way to look. With what they had watched earlier tonight it was easy to guess what the inspiration for a tall and muscular form would be.

At that thought the side door of the conference room opened and Coil strode in. The act was sudden and dramatic, made worse by the stark appearance of the man's costume. Skin tight black fabric with a stark white snake, appropriately, coiling around it. That would have been striking enough without the other aspects of the man's appearance.

He was tall. Probably not excessively tall, but it was the proportions of the man that exaggerated that aspect of his appearance. He was thin. So thin that the shape of ribs could be seen through the material of his costume. Every bone was on display, from elbows to collarbone to the shape of each individual knuckle. Coil had taken a prominent aspect of his appearance and decided to exaggerate it rather than downplay it.

The effect worked. It was unnerving. That was visible on Jess and Oliver, and made Marissa grateful the rest of them had decided to come in masks. This might have been an informational briefing, and might be from an employer and ally, but she knew how these kinds of power plays could add up. Really, the only way he could have come across as more unsettling is if he brought out the girl again. Thankfully, there was no sign of her, and Marissa was secretly grateful for that.

"Thank you for coming." The man spoke in an oily voice. "This has been a busy day, and will in all likelihood prove to be a busy night." She wondered if that was a jab at the fact that they were sitting around at his beck and call rather than actually driving the situation. "That said, I felt it would be prudent to call this meeting in the interest of keeping you informed and providing certain assurances."

"Apeiron, right?" Noelle asked through her video link. "Do you know what happened to him after the fight?"

Coil nodded. "My information sources on him are somewhat limited, though still much more extensive than any other group in the city. I have confirmed that he is indeed alive, though there was not considerable doubt to that point. That said, he is currently indisposed."

"How are you sure?" Ballistic asked. "We've seen the reports. There's been no sighting or mention since the man vanished."

Rather than be annoyed at the interruption Coil almost seemed amused. "I have a group in my employ with certain connections to Apeiron. Contact has been made and certain owed obligations have been called in regarding the recovery effort."

"You mean the Undersiders? You have the Undersiders working for you?" Luke asked.

Coil turned and grinned beneath his mask. The fabric was thin and tight enough that Marissa could see his teeth though the stretched material. "I have connections and contracts with many groups. I trust you can understand the value of exercising discretion in revealing details in such matters. After all, your affiliation and the details of your arrangement have been treated with similar care."

Marissa was impressed. It was effective confirmation and implied threat all at once. Of course, Krouse only saw the confirmation. It was understandable. The Undersiders' link with Apeiron had made them nearly as sought after as the tinker himself. The only ones with a proven and reliable connection, and Coil effectively promised he could leverage it.

"Can you arrange a meeting? How soon can we speak with him?" Trickster asked eagerly while glancing at Noelle's screen.

Coil shifted his stance and spoke in a voice like oiled silk. "That will likely take some time. The aftermath of today's conflict will be considerable, and my sources, both internal and external, indicate it will be at least a few days before any overtures can be made. Additionally, contact will need to be handled carefully, given the intermediaries involved, but rest assured I will fulfill my commitments."

The news was a relief to everyone involved. Surprisingly, even Jess seemed engaged. Mars couldn't blame her. At least three of the leads they'd followed to try to help Noelle and had to abandon when they proved to be dead ends could have made some difference in Jess's condition. They were just too risky, expensive, or time intensive for the group to commit. The first time it happened Jess had been bitter. The second time she had been despondent. The third time she had basically retreated into herself, entering a horrible period of detachment that she never fully recovered from.

If Apeiron could fix Noelle he could heal Jess. He might even be able to get them home.

"He can do it, right?" Krouse said, voicing her thoughts. "I know what that girl said, but you're sure he can really help?" He added, voicing the thoughts she was trying not to have.

The thin crime lord nodded, but took on a more serious stance. "Of that there is no doubt, but there are aspects of this situation that I should warn you about." The excitement settled and Coil continued. "Apeiron is extremely powerful, but the man is not stable."

"No, really?" Luke exclaimed. Thankfully Coil ignored him.

"Despite the attention he has received, sudden and explosive growth in tinker abilities are not unheard of. They just tend to end dramatically before the tinker themselves receives any notoriety." The man's tone was chilling.

"What do you mean 'end'?" Krouse asked, leaning forward.

"There is a classification of tinkers known as a Mad Scientist." He paused to watch their reaction. "As I'm sure you can guess, this is a rather severe situation. Mad Scientists trade stability for rapid progress, often working levels ahead of other tinkers at the expense of some restraint."

"And that's Apeiron?" Their interim leader asked.

Coil nodded. "It was the predominant theory prior to today's events, but has essentially been confirmed. By all estimations Apeiron is working on an accelerated pace at the expense of some level of stability in either his creations or himself. Either are clear possibilities given how he defeated Lung."

"So where does that leave us?" Krouse questioned. "If he's getting worse, what's going to happen? Will he even be able to help Noelle?"

"Rest assured, the promises I made stand fast." The man spoke calmly. "The primary opposition to my methods of providing assurances has been dealt with. Given the trend Apeiron is on he may become less stable, but in all likelihood will also increase in capacity as time goes on."

"How can you be so sure?" She could tell Krouse was trying to sound restrained, but she could hear the tension in his voice.

In contrast Coil sounded completely confident as he replied. "That is the secret to mad scientists. There is always a pattern to their behavior, a method to their madness. Apeiron has held to all of his agreements religiously, and well beyond the bounds of what could be reasonably be expected. His commitment to the Undersiders is absolute, and he has demonstrated similar devotion to other contracts. If you are able to secure an agreement with the man he will see it through." Coil smiled through his mask again. "I can assure you of that."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Luke broke in. "I mean, half the people in the city are probably trying the same thing."

"I have resources and connections not available to that half of the city." Coil answered with mirth in his voice. "I will provide you with the opportunity and support needed to secure a commitment, at the appropriate time. Until then you will need to trust my guidance."

And with that they were done, and Coil knew it. Their marching orders couldn't be clearer, follow his commands and get the only chance at salvation you could hope for. A chance at that brass ring that everyone had been chasing since the first display showing what Apeiron was capable of.

Looking around she could tell, they were in. They were committed, devoted to this for the long haul. The end of the line, the last real chance, the opportunity to prove they could pull through, could beat the Simurgh. For that they could push past. They could serve as Coil's enforcers. They could even tolerate what was happening to that little girl.

For the end of the road, to finally get out of this nightmare, they could tolerate anything. They would have to.