I woke up with sunshine burning into my eyes. What a nice way to wake up.

I groaned, rolling all over the messy silken bed while diving underneath the pillows and duvet. It was still too early to wake up, and his own mind was still yearning for an extra minute of sleep.

My hands roamed through the covers, feeling the soft, smooth, and warm bouncy feeling of the comforter. This bed was great. Wide, not too soft, and always remain warm despite the cold lick of night.

"A-Anthony,"

I squeezed my hands, feeling more of the warm, soft sensations of the bed covers. I scrunched my eyebrows. My bed was never this warm, or this… bouncy. Squeezing a bit more times, I was certain that what I'm grasping aren't bed covers at all. The soft moaning voice should have given it away.

"Anthony!"

I yawned, opened my eyes, and quickly realized that I was groping someone else's titties. Quickly taking my hands away, I rose from the bed and turned my face downwards with embarrassment.

"I'm… sorry?" I muttered, genuinely bad and a tad bit confused by what I just did.

"No. It's alright, please. It's okay," A low, mousy, and embarrassed voice came from the other side of the bed Hesitant at first, I eventually raised my head and looked at whom the woman I was sleeping with was.

She was a freckled, shy blonde-haired thing. Her blue eyes greeted me with an embarrassed and flushed expression. My gaze moved south, revealing the blessed enormous amounts of her assets. It seems that she noticed my downwards and lustful gaze when she suddenly pulled forth the covers and emitted a small squeal, her face a little red faced.

My head was still a bit fuzzy from the alcohol I took last night, but I can already remember what had transpired for me to end up in the bed of this lovely lady, albeit a little vaguely. I was originally hanging out at a bar last night, drinking away with some other people, until the girl before me caught my eye. She was hesitant at first, but after a few drinks and a bit of my manly charisma, she eventually agreed to invite me to her home. We had a lot of fun that night, and I manage to learn quite a few things about her.

She was named Mari Anne Herren. Yes, that Herren. That one white supremacist incestuous family cult that, in the story. Rune, Othalla, and Viktor were originally part of. I did ask her if she had any other family members currently living with her, and told me that it was only her and a cousin named Tammi, living under their uncle Aaron.

Yep, she's Othalla alright. I just slept with an E88 cape. Fucking awesome. Alec's gonna love hearing about this next time we meet.

We stared awkwardly at each other for a couple of minutes before we got up and get redressed in our clothes. I asked her if she's up for a drink, but she just refused and told me to leave before her uncle

gets home. She even rushed out of her room while dragging my house and pushed me out of the back door. Though not before I left her with a kiss on the hand and my number saved on her phone, promising to visit her for another good time. That sent her into a stuttering mess.

Once she waved me goodbye, I discreetly went around her house and got on my motorcycle. It was a fancy thing, a second-handed Honda CBX 1000. Bought it with all my money and hard work at a motor shop downtown. Might as well use the things I would never use, such as a trust fund for College. What's the point of a higher education when the world's inevitably fucked in two years anyways?

I started my bike and gingerly maneuvered it out of the spot I locked in. Once unchained, I started the engine and rode off to the streets.

While riding through the neighbourhood, I noticed how much more "clean" it was compared to our area. Decently maintained homes, clear lawns and walkways, and no fucking potholes. You have no idea how many times I fell through one of those monstrosities.

It was also more peaceful, I thought. Quieter too. Probably because it was a high-end rich community that's part of the main patrol route of the Protectorate, as well as the neighbourhood in which New Wave lives. Speaking of, I should probably visit the hospital later on.

I took a decision to take a shortcut and passed through Lord's Market. The shops and little stalls scattered everywhere were something I quite enjoy. It shows how, despite the current dire state of the world, the people still strive and survive to the best of their abilities.

I slowed down and parked on the side of one of the dozen parked food trucks, making sure to activate the anti-theft mode by hitting a hidden button under the bike's handle. Satisfied, I pulled out my wallet and waited in line.

It was a small hot dog truck, quite obscure yet authentic in my opinion. They are usually my go-to place for convenient early meals whenever I didn't have enough time to eat at home. Yeah, breakfast hot dogs, who knew they were good?

My turn was up, and I ordered a Carolina-style chili hot dog with relish and mustard on top. The first time I ordered it, the guys who served the hot dogs were weirded out by my request, but after a few returns, they just ignored it and assume it was my personal taste. Which is false, everything is better with relish and mustard on top.

I finished the last bite of my meal with a deep gulp of water and sighed. It was delicious, though needs more relish.

I returned to my bike and unlocked the chains. I rode on top, and just as I was going to ignite the engine, my phone rang. Taking it out, I saw that it was Brian who called me. Odd, he usually calls later than noon. I shrugged and put it aside as one of his infinite exceptions.

"Yellow?" I greeted.

"Hey, Anthony? Where the hell did you go? You just left me back at the bar last night! You didn't even text me," Brian said through the other side of the phone. While not outright yelling, his tone indicates he's not on good terms to me at the moment.

"Yo, what's up B. Sorry about that, someone, uh… invited me," I cheekily replied, now feeling bad about leaving my friend alone, "I kinda got thrashed last night, and don't really remember about anything… at all,"

"... We'll talk about this later," Brian said, finality in his voice. I subconsciously nodded, later not realizing that he cannot see the gesture of my head.

"Okay. So… what did you call me for? The last time you called me this early was when Alec broke into your house," I replied, recalling that time I paid Alec to infiltrate his house to steal his helmet for me. He did manage to deliver the helmet to me, it was only when he was returning it that he got caught.

Brian grunted, "Don't remind me about it. I still hadn't forgiven him for that. He even had the audacity to give his number to my sister, the bastard," I heard Brian sigh, then spoke again to me.

"Lisa called me to call you to let you know that she will call you and to let you know to answer the received call," He blurted out, managing to avoid getting his tongue twisted.

… What? "What?"

"Yeah, she told me to tell you that exact phrase. Had to write that down, and even then I have to practice that without sounding like a blabbering idiot," Brian said, seemingly more amused than anything.

"Wow. That's a huge fucking waste of time. How long did you have to try until you got it right?" I asked. While it was impressive that he did that, it was still incredibly dumb.

"Five minutes. 24 times. I got my other phone and recorded it. What you heard earlier was a recording," He said proudly.

I whistled, "Clever,"

"I know. Anyways, I only called you to notify you that Lisa's going to call you later. She said it's something important and that you can't decline. I need to go. See you soon,"

Tsk, "Fine. I'll call her. Later," And with that, I hang up.

I wonder what got Lisa so riled up that she ordered Brian to bother me this early. I thought of the timeline. It was a rough and messy thing, growing up from being an adult, then to a child, then back to an adult definitely does not do good for your metaknowledge. Or mental health in general.

Canon start was still way too early. Taylor's debut has probably been butterflied away thanks to my actions, and the Simurgh still hadn't mindfucked Canberra yet at the moment. So it was probably something before canon. It's not the Ruby Dreams heist, that's in two weeks.

I was still confused, but I put it aside for the meantime, thinking back to the personal philosophy I made up when I was ten. While metaknowledge was useful, "I mustn't rely on it for everything, for my existence makes everything uncertain". It was also at that age in which I realized that since the canon was fucked anyways due to my existence, I might as well interfere to change things for the better.

Dismissing the whole situation for later, I ignited my bike and headed off for home.

The ride took less than ten minutes before my bike was parked in front of an old shabby, patchwork, yet homely estate of the Hebert family. When I read bout the broken steps of the house, I simply ignored them as some minor inconvenience that Taylor could fix using a few nails and planks. But when it was the fifth time I fell through that broken death trap, I decided to cancel off half of my grade eleven summer plans in order to do some maintenance to our home.

What once was an old, rundown, and bland house. With its front porch cracked and its walls unpainted, it was now replaced by a much more improved one. The new front porch was replaced with high-quality planks, and the old turquoise paint was replaced with a brand-new red-hot coat. Dad even sobered up for once and decided to re-tile the roof alongside me, It was fun spending time with my dad again after so long. Taylor was in her depression phase at that time, so was unable to participate, though she did eventually smile after looking at the final product of our hard work.

Speaking of, I saw my little sister sitting at the kitchen table fixing some cereal for herself. I walked up behind her and sneaked in quietly with purpose.

"BOO!"

"AHHHHH!"

Taylor predictably got spooked and spilled some of the milk she was holding directly into my face. I was pretty sure she automatically thrust the milk carton into my direction. Nice reflexes sis, but in my opinion, a punch in the face is definitely better than being splashed in any kind of liquid, aside from water and… certain other fluids.

"Ah, What the fuck!? A-Anthony?! Why the hell did you do that!?" She turned to me, growling and angry. Oh boy, an angry Taylor is a bad Taylor.

Wiping some milk off my face, I raise my index finger and backed away a few step, "Now hold on a second sis. Calm down for a moment, I need to wipe the spunk you squirted off my face,"

I didn't see her expression but based on her tone, I knew she had a disgusted face when she spoke again, "What the fuck! Stop being so weird, It's five in the morning, and your already acting like a creep,"

I did eventually see her face and began chuckling. She growled, but just ignored me and demanded me to clean the spill I made. After I was done cleaning up, we settled down at the table with her breakfast made. While Taylor has her cereal, I merely grabbed a single apple from the fridge.

We sat there, silent. Awkwardly eating our food while gingerly ignoring any probe for a conversation. It was understandable, but I thought Taylor better than this.

"So. How has been your school, Taylor?" I asked, breaking in for a conversation. Taylor looked up, then just looked for a couple more seconds. I raised my eyebrow and made a go-on with it gesture.

While hesitant, Taylor eventually opened up, "It was great," she said.

"... That's it? Nothing else?" I frowned and leaned back in my chair, "C'mon Taylor, you can tell me. How are your grades, you're not failing, are you?"

She scrunched her face, and downed a gulp of hot cocoa, "No. Schools fine. It's just, something I don't want to talk about at home,"

"... Okay. How about friends? You did manage to made new friends, right?" I asked.

She paused for a bit, but after a while, her lips managed to arch slightly upwards, "Yes. I did get new friends. They are… great. Definitely way better than any of my previous "friends","

I smiled, satisfied with the progress of her new life. And the fruits of my sacrifice.

It was just a week after Taylor was supposed to be to return to her previous school, Winslow, that I decided to act. I decided to reach out to someone that has the power and connections to take Taylor out of Winslow, and serve justice to her perpetrators. Particularly, Coil.

I didn't really reach out to Coil per se, but I did reach out to Tattletale through some proxies online. She and I conversed about my problem and about what she can do for me, and decided to meet up in order to cement our agreement. The expression on Brian's face when he realized their new potential recruit was his long time best and childhood friend was priceless.

Tattletale was in her usual smug and know it all persona. But that shitty vulpine grin quickly got smacked off her face when she realized she cannot read me with her power. At all. Courtesy of my PTSD. That stands for Personal Thinker Scrambling Device, by the way. Not the mental disorder.

The talk went… okay, for a better word. Tattletale was grouse and irritated that she cannot read me with her power. Brian was awkwardly staring at me while anxiously walking around, which made Bitch annoyed that he's acting like a dog. Regent was there, just chilling. He was a pretty cool dude.

I was eventually contacted by the Boss, aka Coil. He did his bond villain schpiel, acting all mysterious and shit while we talked. We negotiated about my demands, and about what he can do for me if I provide my services to him. We eventually settled on an agreement, employing me as part of the Undersiders. He seemed particularly pleased to himself, he did just manage to get a Tinker in his employ.

Taylor went to the living room after we cleared the kitchen, while I still stayed seated at the table.

"Hey Tay," I blurted out to the room, getting a hum response, "Where'd dad go? Already at work?"

"Yeah. Left just before you got here," she answered.

"Hm. Alright then," I paused, then continued, "Did you finally decided about what gear you want?"

She was silent, until her muted voice came through the kitchen entrance, barely audible, "No. Not yet," She said, "I still can't decide what kind of device I want for my Debut,"

"Well, don't think about it much. It's only been a week since you asked me to build you some equipment. No need to rush it," I reassured her, which got me a silent okay. It seems that she still needs a lot more work to heal her trauma, but with time and effort, all things can be mended.

Taylor calls me to signal that she's ready and all dressed up for school. I pulled the chair and got up, checking the house two times for anything that I might have forgotten. With that all done, I accompanied Taylor to my bike and turned its anti-theft mode off.

Taylor put on the safety helmet she grabbed earlier on the door cabinet. I bought it for her so that I won't get arrested for taking a minor for a ride without proper safety. She didn't like it though, always complaining to me about how uncomfortable and unnecessary it is.

With her on board, I started the engine and rode through our run down neighbourhood once again. There were noticeably more people than earlier. People running in the sidewalks, salary men walking to the bus stop, and children walking to school, probably Winslow judging by their clothing and body Language.

We exited the rundown area and passed a transition to a more noticeably better-kept community. The transition really was obvious, the road that was once cracked and full of holes was now replaced by a smooth and clean paved one, seemingly brand new. The rundown and low-class houses are gone, taking their places are elegant and clean white houses with trimmed lawns and clean sidewalks. It was something straight out of a dystopian novel.

It took five or so minutes before we arrived at Arcadia. The school, compared to Winslow, was a literal Night and Day difference. Well organized and evenly spaced parking lot containing numerous brand cars. Trees and foliage around the perimeter gave out a fresh and clean feeling that seems absent anywhere else in Brockton Bay. They even have their very own Gym, Swimming pool, and Soccer field. How much fancy can you get?

I stopped at a reasonably far enough location from the main Arcadia building, and let Taylor dismount. Taylor thanked me and waved me off goodbye. I also said my goodbye, but not before letting her know to call me if anything ever comes up, and she needs a knight in shining armour to protect her.

She rolled her eyes about my concern. She did mouth off something that I can't hear and gave a small thumbs-up before she turned and walked away. I just shook my head, perplexed by her weird way of showing her familial affection. I can never understand women, especially teenage girls.

Taylor entered the main building. Minutes passed, and as more and more students passed me by, I pondered what and ever should I go next. The team meeting is not until tomorrow, and my Tinker

schedule is on hold until Taylor or Lisa made up their minds on what they wanted out of me. I swear, these two girls will be the death of me.

A person caught my eye in the sea of faceless adolescents. A girl, mousy at first glance. Auburn brown hair and freckles plotted throughout her face. She was rather forgettable, but to me, I can easily recognize her a mile away. And it also seems that she, too, can recognize me a mile away, judging by that angry glare she's burning directly into my eyes. Amy fucking Dallon. Great, now for a quick getaway. I take back what I said about Arcadia, this place is terrible, and I need to get out of here ASAP.

Scratch my earlier sentiment. I swear these three girls will be the death of me.