A/N:

This story is just a fun little side project to work on while I rewrite my current stories and do college work. A fun little SI romp through Worm, as a non-combatant build for shits and giggles. Don't expect incredibly serious and dark themes from this story, but don't expect pure crack either. Hopefully I can achieve a happy medium between the two. This chapter will be a short prologue, more of a teaser than anything, to see how people like the idea.

Anyway, let's get into this! The CYOA build will be posted at the end of this chapter.

DISCLAIMER: I used to own Worm, but then a giant magical space whale ate all my proof and some guy calling himself Wildbow stole my idea and wrote a much better story from it. Scout's honor.

{BROCKTON BAY MEMORIAL HOSPITAL}

{APRIL 10, 2011}

{AMY DALLON, "PANACEA"}

None of us quite knew what to think of the parahuman that waltzed through the doors like he owned the place. His outfit was… strange, little more than a white robe with weird golden embroidering, and his lack of a mask was almost unnoticeable next to the massive white wings jutting out from his back in typical "angel" fashion. Glowing designs covered his body like tattoos, leaving only his face uncovered, and both the designs and his eyes glowed the same beautiful gold. If he was a Case 53, he was surprisingly human. His skin was bronzed, more than a simple tan but still debatably Caucasian in appearance. Long white hair hung down past his shoulders, ending around his lower back. His teeth were a pearly white, almost unnaturally clean in appearance, and his skin seemed perfectly smooth, with no body hair other than his eyebrows and eyelashes.

What surprised the staff and I even more than his appearance, however, was when he walked up to the main doctor and held out his hand. "Greetings, Doctor Graham. I am Johnathan Weaver, though my colleagues refer to me as 'Seraph'. I am here to help."

His voice was a chorus of bells and gospel music, hiding a small amount of amusement beneath the almost literal voice of an angel. If the Simurgh's Scream was the screech of a fallen angel, Seraph's voice was that of God's messenger. I considered myself an atheist, or at least agnostic, but even I couldn't help but make these parallels. Maybe a Master effect, like Canary's? It had to be, not even the third Endbringer could emulate an angel so well.

I was shaken from my thoughts by Doctor Graham's response. "Ah, yes, um… I'm afraid I'll have to ask what your powers are, and if you have the paperwork required for parahuman healing as stated by the NEPEA Act Amendment 47-D-"

Seraph simply reached into his robe, withdrawing a large stack of official-looking papers with a playful smile on his face. "I believe this should cover all of the legal liabilities. If you have any questions, give Director Piggot a call; she can vouch for me. As for powers… well, I'm a bit of a mixed bag, it seems. The wings I have aren't just for show; I can fly under my own power, though it uses physical muscles and so can get tiring after a while. I also have incredibly powerful regeneration, and the ability to transfer wounds and ailments from others to myself. From cancer to comas, I can heal them of it, and then my regeneration will take care of it."

The smile on his face grew when he saw our shocked reactions, but who could blame us? He had the ability to cure anything that I could, taking it onto himself before he regenerated it! "Wait… wouldn't that still hurt you?"

It was only when his smile turned to me that I realized I had been the one to ask. "Why yes, it does. I feel every pain that whoever I heal has felt, all in a single moment. But, with a power such as mine, what is a little momentary pain compared to someone slowly dying, in agony all the time? If I am the only being who can heal the mind, with no side effects besides those that I myself feel, then why would I not? I believe that you yourself understand what I mean, Panacea."

The strange thing was, I did. Seraph was dealing with the same debate I did every day, just a bit differently, although there was no way he could know how right he was. I knew what I could do without my rules, and I was scared of it, so I didn't do brains, didn't do more than baseline human. Seraph didn't have to worry about going too far, but he knew that for every person he healed, he felt all their wounds, all of their pain, all at once. For me, healing cancer was as simple as rearranging a few cells to attack malformed ones and monitoring them to make sure nothing went wrong. For Seraph though, healing cancer was as simple as choosing to do it, but he knew that he would feel every bit of the person's months or even years of pain as their body broke down, all at once.

"… It all looks good to me," Doctor Graham said, flipping through the files, "Though I think I'll call Director Piggot just to make sure. Would you mind waiting here until I'm finished?"

"Of course, Doctor," Seraph bowed his head in acceptance, before turning back to me, "I'll just talk with Panacea until you're done, if that's alright with her."

"That's fine," the words of acceptance left my mouth before I could really think on them. Another healer, one just as powerful as myself, who also didn't wear a mask of any kind? I had so many questions to ask, and the perfect opportunity to ask them.

I led the way to the closest staff room, a former storage room that was converted into a break room around the time I started coming here more often. We both took a seat at the table, and he declined my offer of a drink from the fridge.

"So, uh… what did you want to talk about Seraph?"

He smiled again, that "I know something you don't" smile that seemed to come so easily to him. "My questions can wait, as it seems your own are quite pressing. What would you like to know?"

"How do you do it?"

The smile on his face turned to a confused frown. "I'm… not sure I follow."

I took a moment to search for the words I wanted to say, instead of blurting it out like I did a moment ago. "How… how do you go around healing people, knowing what it'll do to you? I mean, for me it's almost easy, but for you… I can't imagine feeling every broken bone, every lost limb, or every bit of cancer I've fixed before, but you have to feel them all… but you keep going. Why?"

Seraph smiled, a truly radiant smile this time, not just his amused smirk. "Well, I could answer that in a few different ways. I could give the propaganda answer, about how being a hero is worth it all or whatever. I could downplay the pain I feel, or play up the humility aspect, about how much more all of humanity combined is worth compared to me. But the real answer? It's because I've been through it all before. I've been on the other end of the equation, and I know just how much it hurts to go on day after day, in so much pain that you can barely stand. I've seen family go through the same thing, watched as they smiled even as their bodies broke down around them. And on top of all that… I've seen the way that the world itself is hurting. The Endbringers are an obvious example, but nowhere near the only one. Look at this city around us, at the villains who are running free just because of the Endbringer Truce, because the PRT is afraid to crack down too hard in fear of the consequences, without seeing the long-term consequences of playing nice. I see all of this, and I know that I can help. However small my contribution may be, I know that I can help this world heal, I can help the world's people heal. And that, my young friend, is the difference in being a hero, and a Hero."

"And… which am I?" I couldn't help but ask. After a speech like that, after such a heartfelt explanation, what else could I say?

His smile widened, and he reached over to lay a hand on my shoulder. "You, Amelia Claire Lavere, are both, and neither. You do such great acts of healing, such miracles, but you do not do it because of your own will. Instead, you do it because you feel that you must, because if you do not, you fear you will be a bad person. After all, with the ability to heal any ailment, including genetic defects and brain damage with a single touch, to not spend all of your time healing would not be very heroic… or so you believe. The truth is Panacea, I do not heal because I must, because someone told me to. I heal because I truly, in my heart, believe this to be the best way for me to fix this world. But I also know that I cannot do everything, cannot be everywhere, for I am but one man in a world of billions. Over a hundred thousand people die every day, and of all of those, I can heal maybe half. If I focused only on the dying, without sleeping, eating, or resting my mind from the pain I feel, I might be able to heal fifty thousand a day. But what about those who die before I can reach them? What of those who have felt so much pain that my mind cannot handle the strain? What of those who refuse my healing, for their own reasons or desires? A life of only healing is not sustainable, Panacea. Even in the Bible, Jesus Christ, the son of God himself, did not spend all of his time healing the sick. Arguably the most holy man in history, depending on your belief, and yet he spent more time teaching than he did healing.

"Know this, Panacea, Amy Dallon: if you take away nothing else from my speech, understand that so long as you do what you believe to be right, you will live a life of happiness. If you do what others believe to be right, you may feel happy at times, but you will always wonder if it was truly your decision to do what you have done. Soldiers who commit atrocities were only following orders, after all."

Before I could ask him what he meant by "Amelia Claire Lavere", or how he knew what I could really do, or even how the hell he knew my biggest fear, Doctor Graham came in and gave Seraph the all clear for him to start healing. With a nod in my direction and another massive smile on his face, the angelic parahuman rose from his chair and followed the doctor out of the room without another word.

It was several minutes later before my mind calmed down enough to realize I was no longer as tired as I was before Seraph and I had talked.

A/N:

Name:

Jonathan (John) Weaver

Alias:

Seraph

Age:

25

Scenario:

Gestation (+15, +15)

Path:

Conspirator (Vials now have Second Trigger powers)

Origin:

Drop-In (+3, +3) (18, 18)

Identity:

No Identity (+2, +0) (20, 18)

Costume:

Thematic (-3, -0) (17, 18)

Skills:

First Aid (-3, -0) (14, 18)

Martial Arts (-4, -0) (10, 18)

Stealth (-3, -0) (7, 18)

Hacking (-1, -0) (6, 18)

Banter (-1, -0) (5, 18)

Shard:

Dead Shard (+0, +3) (5, 21)

Perks:

Cauldron Vial (x7) (-14, -0) (-9, 21)

Flaws:

Case 53 (x2) (+0, +2) (-9, 23)

Slaughterhouse 9 (+4, +2) (-5, 25)

Endbringer Target (+3, +4) (-2, 29)

Humble Beginnings (+5, +5) (3, 34)

Worst Day Ever (x3) (+6, +3) (9, 37)

Gifts:

Metaknowledge

Powers:

Surgery (-0, -7) (9, 30)

Regeneration (-0, -10) (9, 20)

Path Specific:

Resurrection (-0, -20) (9, 0)

Door Me (-2, -0) (7, 0)

Undercover (-3, -0) (4, 0)

Garden of Eden (-4, -0) (0, 0)