You would assume that I wouldn't have much trouble falling asleep, with how tired I am. But then, we make a lot of assumptions about the way things should be, don't we? I know I do. Did. Assuming that my bullies would get tired of me and move on. Assuming the teachers, the faculty at Winslow, would actually do their jobs.

Assuming having powers would fix things. Assuming that being a hero would finally prove to be my way out, and that being a hero actually meant something more than...than whatever the hell Armsmaster and Shadow Stalker made it.

Assuming that Victoria would bother to stay, once she knew just how much I'd been hiding.

It just keeps circling in my head over and over again, all of it, and it refuses to leave me be. I've been lying in bed for most of the day now. And while I know I must have slept, at some point, it's been anything but restful.

Dad got home hours ago, and judging from the noises from downstairs, he must be getting ready for dinner...

I take a deep breath, as I hear him creaking up the stairs. And when my door opens, let it out easily. Just like when he came in to check on me earlier, I pretend to be asleep. Just like before, he seems to believe it. Just like before, he hesitates for a few seconds before slipping away again.

Another problem for the ever growing pile.

I should go down there. Talk to him. Eat. My stomach feels like it's twisting in on itself, but I know part of it is just...hunger. Not surprising, considering I haven't eaten since last night. And the healing yesterday had to have taken it out of me.

But on the other hand, the idea of going down and pretending everything is fine seems exhausting. And I'm not sure how I'd explain my hand. The swelling isn't too obvious, but the bruises are. He would absolutely notice, and I doubt he'd react well.

I'm not in any kind of state to deal with that right now. So I'm not even going to pretend to try.

I stare at the ceiling, and listen. Plates clattering. Ice in a glass. The TV turns on. Sounds like a news channel. The predictable drone of it offers a decent distraction for a few minutes. But only that.

Which…

Dammit.

I slip out of bed, wince at the stiffness that's settled into my joints. Some careful (quiet) stretching works out the worst of it. I only bump my injured hand a couple of times. It's sad, but I think I'm starting to adjust to those little jolts of pain that come with it...maybe not a good thing. I'll have to get it looked at, at some point, but right now I'll just...do something else.

What else do I have to do?

I linger in front of my bookshelf, for a minute or two, but move on when I realize I'm just staring blankly at the books' spines. I guess I'm not up for reading, either. Studying is the next best thing to pointless, right now...TV isn't an option, and I probably wouldn't bother on a good day. Which leaves…

It doesn't leave much, does it?

I move to my closet. Digging through the pile of old clothes in the back corner is more difficult than expected, with only one hand. But I manage to retrieve my things with minimal effort, toss it all on my bed.

Including the Charms. And the Runes.

They're so light. That still gets me. Just holding one like this, I almost feel like I'm going to break it if I'm not careful.

'Gather them, and you will reap great rewards.'

I don't feel very rewarded. I'm not even sure what 'reward' would be worth people dying for these things. But I keep deciding they're worth keeping, don't I?

I turn the Rune, frown at the designs burnt into it. The dark black of the Outsider's 'Mark'. The carvings, sharp, radiating lines and circles. Symbols that seem like they should be familiar. Again, I'm reminded of faded drawings, old maps…

I set it down, and trace the ridges. The Tinker, the…'bonecarver', he must have put a lot of work into these things. Why? Why so much effort if he couldn't even use them until he had my blood? There had to have been a reason; some kind of motivation.

Why blood? Why bone? These powers, the connections between them…

Connections. Our powers are connected, even if only distantly. He makes these Charms, and the Runes, the mirror. I use them, and my blood can make them work.

I can sense them.

...it's better than spending a sleepless night in my room.

xxxxxxxxxx

"In this city, when someone walks into your store, in costume, and doesn't immediately start shooting the place up or demanding protection money, you don't question it. When they actually pay for their things, you smile and say 'thank you'."

That's my lesson for the night from the old man working the counter at this little late-night shop. The bitterness in his voice as he told me that sticks with me, as I wander the rooftops looking for a place to eat. Another reminder of the way things have been. Because obviously that was what my night needed.

On another note, the cheap breakfast-bars and off-brand energy drink I picked up don't actually do anything to settle my stomach. But I feel less hungry, and it does help with the headache that's been slowly building since I left home. Which is something, at least. Hopefully the aspirin will help a little more, once it kicks in.

With food out of the way and the cool, night wind clearing the worst of the fatigue from my head, I can work out how to approach this. Not that...there's not a lot of 'working out' involved, I guess. I've only really got the one theory.

My left hand is already bare, given the trouble I had trying to get the glove on earlier. And it already hurts like hell, so using the thin cardboard from the box my food had come in to open a cut across my knuckles barely registers. A sting, if that.

It gives me what I need; a little bit a blood, to smear over the Rune I'd brought with me.

[tArgETinG?]

Nothing happens, of course. But then, nothing happened with those mirrors, either. Not until I brought my powers into the mix. So that's what I do next, as I clutch the Rune in my bruised and bleeding hand.

[QuErYing]

I feel it, then. Like an electric current running up my arm. Only it's more than just a buzz, more than twitching muscles and humming bones. It's an impression of...potential? And the feeling of cold metal. The sound of an old dollar bill. Which is…

Really weird, actually. But not actually useful to me. So I keep pushing my power into the Rune, try to focus past my headache (which is already getting worse) and the way that humming feeling is starting to actually vibrate enough to be visible. The whole point of this is to find other Runes. Because I know that that's something I can do. I've done it before, so I can do it again. Especially with this thing to help me…

I know…

[LoCatIONs? eValuATing.]

The Rune starts glow with a familiar not-light, and I swallow nervously as it starts to...sing. A distant, rushing sort of sound. Wind through creaking boards. Waves on bare metal…

[acTivATion. CoNNectiOns EsTAbliShed.]

I flinch, violently, as the Rune cracks down the middle, and just barely drop it before it starts to burn. It never hits the ground, though. By the time it should have, the wind has blown the ash away. Not even the metal fixtures are left.

And I…

For a second, I just have to stare, because...did I just break the damn thing? Destroy it? I was so sure...but if I'd made a mistake, if I'd screwed something up, then...did I just waste my chance to make up for…I feel bile, rising in my throat, close my eyes as I try to breathe.

But before I can fall too far into self-incrimination, I realize that that song...isn't quite gone. And neither is the buzzing in my hand. I open my eyes again, flex my fingers as gingerly as possible. When I turn...the feeling shifts to adjust.

One, that way. Two more, that way. A fourth, a fifth...even more, in that direction, enough faint noise overlapping that I can't put a number to it.

Runes?

This isn't like before. I was half expecting that, if this did work, it would be...a daze, a pull that I couldn't ignore. This? It's...directed. Almost focused.

Is it because I used the Rune? Or just because I'm the one that's 'reaching out'? Either way, I've found what I needed.

Maybe. I guess I don't know whether they are Runes yet. And there's really only one way to find out.

The group of possibly-Runes is off in the direction of the Trainyards. Since I could probably expect the Tinker to be stockpiling the damn things, that's a good lead...but maybe not where I should go right now.

No, I'll start with one of the ones that's isolated. As far away from the others as possible.

I guess I'm headed for the Docks.

xxxxxxxxxx

The building that I'm eventually drawn to isn't anything special; an old tenement, all stained brick and crumbling mortar. Circling it a couple of times is enough to get a better idea of the Rune's exact location. Jumping off the roof gets me the right floor.

So I put myself inside.

The fluorescent lighting overhead is only half-functional, and what is powered flickers sporadically. The hall is filthy, what has to be years of neglect clinging to almost every surface.

There's an open doorway ahead. An empty frame, not an 'open' door...I enhance my vision, just to check, but that particular room is empty, right now. It also looks like most of the people on this floor are asleep. So I guess I don't need to be too concerned with stealth.

The buzzing in my hand only gets worse, as I move down the hall. And the noise is clear enough to be distracting, now...it takes all of thirty seconds to find the right apartment. Nobody inside, the door doesn't budge, but neither of those things are important.

I focus, picture empty space just past the door-

-and move. Just in time for my vision to go out and leave me in complete darkness.

"Great." I sigh, start forward...and stop again a second later, planting a hand against the wall as I gag. What the hell is that smell?

I swallow, cough, gag again. Regain control, and finally blink away the darkness so I can actually investigate.

It's not a difficult 'investigation'. The bloated, maggot-eaten body slumped in front of the makeshift altar is kind of hard to miss, after all.

"Fuck." A corpse. Of course it's a corpse. With buzzing flies and a rotting stink, sitting right in front of the Rune I'd come to find.

I close my eyes, breathe through my mouth, and try not to...to overthink. Because there's nothing I can do about a dead body. The most I'd be able to do is call it in, and even then only if I'd thought to bring my phone with me. But of course I hadn't, so I couldn't…

"Fuck." Okay. I need to get out of here. Immediately. Which means getting what I came here for.

I open my eyes, take another deep breath, and force myself forward. I cross the distance in maybe four steps, edge around the body, ignore the flies as they buzz around me. It gets a little easier to do, as the Rune gets louder and more insistent. For a moment, as I'm reaching down to grab it, it feels like the rest of the world is drowned out in rushing sound and electric sensation...and then it all drops away at once, leaving me feeling like I've gone deaf, and numb.

And oh god I think I touched it. I flinch away, or try to, but that only sends it flopping to the floor with a wet squelch. The smell gets about twenty times worse, and I barely remember to take the Rune with me as I-

-teleport to the rooftop. My stomach churns, my breathing goes shallow, and I claw my mask off without hesitation.

I retch. Shake. Drop the rune to press my hand against my face; the leather of my glove feels cooler than it should, but it helps. A couple of deep breaths later, I don't even feel like I'm going to throw up anymore...but dammit, what the fuck?

Another Rune, and another fucking horrible experience to go with it. It's not enough that these things are made out of people, but now…I bend down to pick it up again, turn it over a couple of times. It's not 'singing' anymore, not humming or vibrating. Just a creepy piece of carved bone...that I don't want to be looking at anymore.

I shove it in a coat pocket, pick up my mask, and turn toward the next distant hum.

Downtown.

xxxxxxxxxx

I don't have to backtrack too far before I realize I need to adjust my course. Skirting along the blurry 'edge' between the Docks and Downtown takes no effort, especially when I'm not actively looking for trouble. Before long I'm perched on the edge of a building, looking over a construction site across the street.

It's dark, quiet; the only people on the site are the half-dozen night watchmen walking the fences in pairs. I consider them, for a little while, but it doesn't feel like any of them are carrying it. So eventually, I stand, step off the building-

-and onto an exposed I-beam on the same level.

The Rune's below me, somewhere. Narrows things down a bit.

Moving through the skeleton of the building is an interesting experience, on its own. Plenty of places to stop, easy ways down that doesn't just involve jumping. I pause, at every level, to recover and check that I'm on the right track. By the time I reach the far corner of the building, I'm right above it.

When I hit the dirt and still feel it below...I'm not sure what to do, about it.

"Okay…" Dirt. More dirt. Concrete. There are a few areas that are dug down another story, but nothing that would lead any further toward the Rune. It also gives me the distinct impression that it's even further down than that, which is...what does that mean? Who would bury something like that twenty feet down?

I head up again, do another circuit of the construction site to see if I'm missing anything. Then I do it again, with my vision enhanced.

Still nothing. And since I'm not about to start digging for this thing, sticking around isn't worth the time.

I move back to my perch across the street, brush myself down...I could check some of the others. But I've already confirmed that this feeling is guiding me to the Runes, and I know I'm not going to zone out the second I get close to them. So there's no real point in waiting.

I'll go to the Trainyards, and I'll find the Tinker's newest hideout.

After that...I'll just have to play things by ear.

xxxxxxxxxx

It's an old warehouse, of course. I don't know why I would have expected anything else.

Another thing I didn't expect was the guard sitting just inside the main door. Or the armed man on the roof. It makes snooping more difficult, having to work around actual people watching.

I'd wonder when the hell this guy picked up henchmen, but that's not actually important. What is important is that the Tinker now has guys with guns.

Luckily, I'll only have to deal with one of them, if I want to get inside. Considering he's just sitting there, it shouldn't be hard to do.

I appear by the wall nearest the door, edging along out of sight of the man on the rooftop. Nobody else watching me, no signs of other occupants, so I stop by the door and pull out a baton. Take a second to expand it quietly.

This would probably be easier with those tranquilizers I took, but...I'll just have to make do. It shouldn't be that hard. I've done this before, after all.

Right.

I take a deep breath, and a second to prepare myself. I'm going to have to make this quick.

I grip the baton in my good hand, square off, and raise my arm-

-before bringing it down on the man in the chair.

It catches the rifle in his hands, but he doesn't lose his grip. A moment later, his leg comes up, and a heavy boot bends my knee the wrong way.

Pain. The gun comes up. A flash of light-

And my back hits the brick, coat bunching up as I slide down to the sidewalk.

Oww.

Okay, so. Not so quick, or easy. I swallow, shiver at the phantom pains, and consider my options. Obviously, this guy isn't just kicking back and passing the time. He reacted way too quickly for that. Were they expecting trouble? Expecting me? The ABB had managed to counter me once they realized I was teleporting, thanks to their familiarity with Oni Lee. If the Tinker told these guys about me…

Well, it's not like teleportation is my only trick.

I move to push myself to my feet (and bite down a sharp curse as I try to use my bad hand to do it), manage to get up and shuffle back a few steps. Away from the door. Because this wall isn't that thick. So there's nothing stopping me from just...summoning a swarm of rats on the other side.

Power rushes out of me, and I smile, despite myself. And a few moments later, I take control.

It isn't as dark inside as I was expecting. The rats can't make out much in the way of detail, but they can definitely see the light. Hear a steady rumbling noise that sounds like an idling engine. Smell something sharp and chemical, something that makes them think food...and they can tell that there's something breathing on the other side of the partition they're milling behind.

That would be the guard.

Above me, at the same time, I identify a group of mosquitoes being drawn to a beacon of heat in the cool night. That's the other guard...and I should probably be ready to deal with him too, shouldn't I? That's...that's probably smart. Flies and mosquitoes were enough of a distraction for Oni Lee, and there are plenty of those in my range. They'll work here just as well.

While I'm gathering them up, my rats are moving, a couple splitting off from the main group to 'scout' ahead. Only a few feet ahead, they find the edge of the partition, more light...and the dark blob over there is definitely the guard.

Annoying. If I could put a little more distance between him and the rats, I'd have a much better angle for their approach. As it is, it looks like there's a lot of open space they'd have to cover just to get around. Either way, they'll be spotted, so it'll probably just be better to rush him.

And since there's no time like the present…

Two dozen rats aren't particularly quiet, when they're charging across a bare floor. He notices before they can cover more than half the distance, but before he can actually react, I've got the lead rats jumping him and immediately doing everything in their power to attach themselves.

His gun goes off, before the rest of the swarm can reach him and force him to drop it. Above me, I feel the second guard turn...and I probably should have waited until I had enough bugs gathered to actually do something more than annoy him.

...shit.

Well, at least he's on the roof. Even if he knew exactly where I was, it would take him too long to reach me. The guy inside, on the other hand, is very nearly disabled; stumbling, flailing, trying to throw my rats off as they scratch and bite. Trying to reach his weapon as they drag it across the floor.

When I appear behind him, he doesn't have a chance to react. I don't give him one, either, rats digging hard as I swing my baton into the back of his leg. When he drops to his knees, I push forward, throwing myself against him and driving him to the floor.

I'm standing again a moment later, on his other side, and when he tries to push himself up, I kick him in the head.

...which isn't...that's not 'being more careful', is it?

I call off my rats, as he hits the floor...and I would have stopped to check on him, if it weren't for the fact that the guy on the roof was moving toward what I think is a fire escape, despite the sparse swarm of flying bugs I gather to delay him. I should probably deal with him sooner than later...this time I'll be more careful.

Yeah.

My rats won't last much longer, but I don't really need them to; the ones closest to me move, leaping and scurrying to cling to my coat. And then, before the guy on the roof can start making his way down-

-I appear above him, dropping a few feet before catching myself with my arms around his neck. Between the added weight and my momentum, he loses his balance entirely, cursing sharply as he stumbles forward…

Over the edge of the building.

I cut our fall as short as possible, teleporting us almost directly to the pavement in the alley below. I still hear something crack as we land, and when I roll away from the guy he gives a breathless, pained cry.

I...obviously need to work on 'careful'. Fuck.

My rats vanish, before I can consider making use of them. I lose control of my bugs a few moments later. I briefly consider calling up some more, but...no point, now.

The guy groans as I turn him over, grits his teeth against another noise of pain as I yank his rifle away from him. I move to throw it in the nearest dumpster, eye him for a second...it doesn't look like he's going anywhere. And I don't really intend to stick around.

I turn away-

-and step past his friend inside.

I've got a lair to wreck, after all.

The Runes draw my attention first, of course. While that little scuffle had been pretty distracting, now that it was over...being this close to so many of them is electric. A few more steps toward the chorus of them almost makes me feel like my teeth should be rattling.

It's a lock-box. One of those big, fire-safe ones. But the lock doesn't actually stand up very well to my baton, and before long I'm prying it open. With every Rune I pull out, the sound, the sensation, declines, until finally all that's left are the ones still in the distance.

They seem almost unreal, spread out on the floor in front of me. Like some kind of macabre jewelry-stand display. Sixteen Runes. Sixteen. How many people-?

I don't have enough room in my pockets, but I can string the rest on a belt. I can't do anything about what was done to make them, but I can make sure that the Tinker can't use them for anything. And now that I've got them...

Well, I see plenty of tools, in here. Work tables. Half-built things. Notes, scattered papers. There's a generator chugging away in a far corner of the building, blocked off by another set of partitions; I guess that's how he's lighting the place.

No sign that he's actually staying here, not like the last place. Which means this is some kind of, what? Dedicated workshop? Between that and the henches, it seems like he's moving up…

There are a couple of Charms, in another blocked-off area. Sitting on a work table...beside some of the bones used to make them. Those are practically whole. Yellowed.

Specks of blood crush the table's surface. Drops trail across the floor, toward a suspiciously clean set of saws. And a chest freezer, humming quietly in the corner of the 'room'.

I don't really need to look inside to guess what I'd find. I do anyway.

I don't appreciate being right.

Nothing I can do about it. It's way too late for that.

What I can do is tuck the charms away with the rest of the things I'm leaving with. Take a hammer to the Tinker's work. Break his tools. Use some of the gas set aside for the generator to turn his notes into a miniature bonfire. Spread it a little further to set what's left of his workshop on fire, too.

The guard that had been watching the door has a phone, on him. It's locked, but can still make emergency calls. So I report the fire, as I teleport him into the alleyway with his friend.

Then...then I run.