Taylor stood on top of the ancient temple scarred both by nature, Kralkatorrik, the fighting going around them, and most importantly, the seemingly alive flames burning almost everywhere. Only a small, surprisingly uncharred patch of the building was free of them.
As she watched for a moment the swirling flames, plasma, and visible magic around them, Taylor concluded that she really had the shittiest luck.
Her armor and clothing were in tatters, she was bleeding from several smaller wounds, and she didn't even want to know from where the gunk came on her left knee.
Opposite of her, standing tall and proud, was Balthazar, the second of the Six, the God of War, Fire, and Challenge resplendent in his black and red armor, small flames escaping randomly from the gaps between the pieces.
His face was lit with an arrogant sneer, while his eyes were literally alight with fury as he beheld Taylor.
She let out a breath, then steeled herself. Straightening up, ignoring the tiredness, and continuously circulating magic inside and around herself to prevent instant combustion from not only the sheer heat that the storm of magic and plasma was putting out but also Balthazar's aura, she stepped forward and raised her sword, pointing it at the god.
"Balthazar, stop this at once!"
The furious god looked at her, seemingly taking her measure. Then his sneer deepened. Taylor doubted an ordinary human could convey so much contempt with a single sneer.
"So, the Commander of the Dragon's Watch, Hero of Tyra, now stands alone against the god of war, armed with nothing but a sword." He chuckled, but there was nothing happy about it. Taylor could see that random fires lit up around them, filled with sinister energy, seemingly moving in synchrony with the angry god. "And the foolish belief that you've just accomplished something!"
Taylor could feel the magic under her skin thrum, and even deeper, in a recess of her soul and magic, a seed of magic also began to hum with a cheery, but serious song as if in response to Balthazar's presence. It took Taylor a few seconds to realize what was happening and why, but in the end, she was left with a smirk.
Pointing at Balthazar, reading her magic for the inevitable battle before her, she called out to him.
"I've stopped you from destroying Tyria, that's 'something'!"
The reply came immediately with a dismissing wave from the God of Fire.
"You've stopped nothing, Sorceress. I am the God of War. My plans are infinite, and one small defeat is nothing before me! Even now, my Warbeast has weakened Kralkatorrik. Only a few more steps and victory… Will. Be. Mine!"
"Then I guess we are not finished here!" exclaimed Taylor and her grip on her sword tightened, and she could feel her magic just under her skin, ready to do her bidding.
There was a few seconds of silence, as Balthazar seemingly mulled over her words, but then he suddenly grinned, and unsheathed his giant greatsword, while Taylor could feel the heat increase around them, and could see the other layer of the temple began simply melt from the sheer heat Balthazar was putting out.
"Indeed, not, little Sorceress." He took up a stance, raising his sword high, with a bloodthirsty grin on his face. "Ready yourself!"
For a moment, they stood across from each other, neither moving, the only sound around the cacophony of the storm of plasma, then one lone simple spark was ejected from the storm between them.
They watched as the spark fell, their eyes tracking the fast-moving fire magic as it descended towards the almost glowing ground.
Then it reached the ground and for a second it hung there as if hesitating, then it vanished, absorbed by the ground.
And then…
Fire.
My Champion…
You have accomplished so much, united the races of Tyria, defeated enemies so strong it is almost impossible to believe and created miracles with magic that astound all. Yet, some of the harshest tests are still before you…
You hold something great inside you…
Be it by your own actions, or those of Fate or the Mist, you have become something more, something different…
Yet at the same time, you are still my Champion…
You are like fertile soil, with a seed hidden deep beneath…
It is up to your action how that seed will germinate and become part of the ever-growing forest of life…
Taylor, my Champion, you are not alone, none is alone if they have friends…
Never be afraid to seek help…
It is not your duty to help everybody…
But I know you, just as you know me. And I know no matter what you do, I will be proud of you and will be proud to call you my Champion.
- Words said by Aurene, Dragon of Crystal and Light, to Taylor 'Vaporblade' Hebert, witnessed by no one
Amy shambled into the reception of Brockton Bay General, once again cursing that her power couldn't affect her and that nobody had yet invented a faster-acting coffee. At least one misbegotten Tinker should have worked on it… But no… everybody only wants doom lasers, then for her to put their hand back.
She sighed, walked around somebody not important talking to her, and once again lamented how un-awesome her life was. Despite being Saturday, she was in the hospital, instead of staying home having fun (though what fun, she didn't really know) or going out (she had no idea with whom), and Amy was on her way to heal a bunch of people.
Apparently, the hospital has arranged a group of people to gather for Saturday, thus eliminating the problem of them overcrowding the hospital with their presence. They were, of course, not random people, but people who were due for her healing, with cancers, tumors, and all sorts of dreadful illnesses she didn't really care about.
She walked up to the desk in the middle of the lobby and said her greeting to the eternally chipper receptionist nurse.
"That was a grunt, Amy, not a greeting," came the chiding reply from the nurse, accompanied with a smile. "But good morning to you too!"
She might have mumbled something that could have been taken as a proper greeting, but honestly, who really cared?
The nurse, J-something, continued ignoring her general foul mood.
"You are up on the third floor. You start with the children's ward, then…"
Her speech was, however, interrupted by a commotion from the entrance. Amy looked up, hoping that it would be something that could liven her day up at least a little, but what she saw was so much more.
At the entrance came one of the doctors she knew, Dr. Larsen, in all of his Nordic glory, wide shoulders and blonde hair and a beard that said to rival Armsmaster's. He was also fawning over somebody, while the people who braved the ER this early were gawking or exclaiming around them.
That somebody was Weaver.
Recognizing the Protectorate's latest hero and PR disaster, she took in the woman, as she ignored Larsen flirting with her (he never flirted with her like that).
Weaver had her unnaturally silver hair up in an elegant bun, wearing a simple mask that did nothing to hide her shockingly green eyes. She was also wearing a fusion between lab coat and jacket, and Amy, even from a distance, could see that it was made from some kind of material that was incredibly high-quality, and as the other parahuman turned slightly to answer the too handsome doctors question Amy could see that there was a red cross added to the sleeves sparking with ethereal red light.
Under it, Weaver was wearing a simple button-up black shirt, and a criminally short white, flowing skirt that accentuated her elegant legs.
Amy watched as they walked into the hospital proper, and as Weaver weaved to the few people present so early, with a blinding smile, they headed for the receptionist. And her.
Staring at the woman, and wondering why the hell she was present, Amy waited until they approached the receptionist's desk.
"Good morning Clara!" exclaimed Dr. Larsen with a booming voice, greeting the receptionist, who returned the greeting with equal cheerfulness. Amy sometimes wondered if somebody spiked the water supply with something in the hospital. There was no way that was genuine… Dr. Larson then turned towards her and gave her a nod. "And good morning to you too, Panacea!"
"Morning…" mumbled Amy, her eyes never leaving Weaver (and her legs).
"Who is this, Dr. Larson?" asked Clara, preempting Amy, who was also rather curious.
Dr. Larson smiled bashfully, then gestured towards the parahuman, who still hadn't said a word to them. The rude bitch.
"Ahh, as you may know, this is Weaver. She is here to join Panacea to heal people!"
Weaver nodded at them and then spoke up with a calm voice. Amy couldn't help but notice how calming and reassuring her voice was. Almost as if it was perfect for a hospital.
"Yes, hello to all. The Protectorate deemed me certified to handle patients and Brockton Bay General was nice enough to allow me to test the waters."
The bitch. Now Amy knew why they bundled people together for a Saturday healing. They wanted her present to make sure if Weaver fucked up something, then she was there to un-fuck it.
"I'm looking forward to working with you, Panacea!"
Broken out of her not-so-friendly thoughts, she looked up at the tall woman, taking all of her in, and then she spoke up, trying to hide her frustration. "Yeah, me t-too."
Weaver gave her a smile in reply, then turned towards Larson, leaving Amy alone with her blushing and cursing herself for stuttering.
"Where to Dr. Larson?"
"First you need a card to access the building!" spoke up Clara, who also immediately began typing away at her computer, while Amy watched along, trying not to curse, and wanting very much go somewhere where she could be alone and scream for a few hours.
A minute later, the receptionist handed over a card on a lanyard that Weaver hung over her neck gracefully. Then the handsome duo said goodbye to Clara and to her and began walking towards the lifts, continuing their flirting.
She was broken out of her thoughts by a poke. Startled, Amy looked up, only to meet Clara's grinning face.
"Nice view, eh?"
"What?"
"Don't worry honey, nobody is going to judge you for looking. Because damn, girl…"
"I wasn't looking!"
She ignored the suggestive wink that the nurse sent her way and began swiftly walking away, head held high, and definitively not blushing. As she turned the corner, she still heard Clara's last words…
"Sure you weren't…"
Missy loved her new hammer. And she was pretty sure her hammer loved her too. Not that it talked, but after seeing Weaver in action, she was pretty sure that the hammer was somehow magical. The only question was how to convince it (or maybe even Weaver) to show her the genuine stuff?
And even though she got benched for a week for that fight, she still saw one of the most badass fights ever, so she was happy. She learned a lot of stuff; she was getting better and better with her new hammer, and now, finally, Missy was out on the streets. Granted, it was a routine patrol, but she was allowed to take her hammer with her so everything was alright in the world.
Dean who?
Next to her hovered Aegis, focusing on his job, with a serious look on his face, while Gallant walked next to her, watching for an ambush or something. Missy wasn't sure, as his helmet covered his handsome face fully.
They were around halfway done with their patrol and were about to turn around and walk the route backward when they heard a familiar noise of somebody breaking into somewhere they shouldn't. Aegis, as always, was on the ball, speaking into his communicator.
"Overwatch, this is Aegis. We heard a noise that indicates robbery in action." The moment he finished, a very family whine of alarm sounded in the distance from the same direction they heard the noise.
"This is Overwatch. Copy you, Aegis. You are cleared to check it out. Report immediately who is doing it," came the very calming voice of Overwatch in all of their earpieces, not just in Aegis' in response. The man had taken over the monitor duty for almost everybody, granting them a reprieve from boring monitor duty. There was even a rumor he was related to Weaver, but Missy couldn't really see it.
Weaver was beautiful, badass, and gave her a super-duper hammer of destruction, while Overwatch was kinda old and somewhat boring. She liked the man; he was always friendly, but she just couldn't see the two of them being related…
"Roger that, Overwatch. Aegis out." He turned towards them and gave them a nod. "All right, Vista. Get us close!"
Missy gave him a smile, and a determined nod, then concentrated and the world obeyed.
Suddenly the space in front of them distorted, and instead of the sidewalk they have been using, there was the edge of the roof of a nearby building in front of them. The few people who were around them gawked at the phenomena, some even holding their heads in confusion, but Gallant and Aegis moved forward long used to seeing Vista twist space into a pretzel at the drop of the hat.
The next second they found themselves on top of a residential building, then space twisted once again. They took another step (Aegis floated the cheater), and soon they were looking down the street from where noises were coming from.
In the middle of the street was a stereotypical electronics store and they could hear the whine of the alarm and a few crashes originating from it.
Aegis made a motion with his hand, she nodded and once again violated space in a non-consensual manner. She wasn't really clear on what that meant, but she heard Assault once call it that, and it was an impressive-sounding phrase, so she made use of it.
Soon, they were watching from their perch as Circus, the infamous independent villain was ransacking the electronics store grabbing everything in sight and showing it into her pocket space.
"Overwatch, this is Aegis. It seems Circus is responsible for the break-in. Permission to engage?"
There was a moment of silence and Missy almost feared that they would be once again delegated to spectators when the communicator came alive and Overwatch's calm tone came through.
"Permission granted, Aegis. Backup is already on his way."
"Copy that. Aegis out!"
They looked at each other hearing that, and Missy watched as Aegis nodded at them with grim determination, while she responded with the biggest grin she could muster.
Finally, it was time for her hammer to debut!
It will be awesome!
"Let's do this as we learned guys…" said Aegis, and Missy forced herself to refocus her attention and nod in agreement.
"Vista, you will go in, Gallant, you will cover her and I will flank Circus. Okay?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Missy, not believing her luck.
"Understood," answered Gallant with a calm tone.
"Good luck then," said Aegis, and immediately flew off, presumably to get into position to flank their dastardly enemy.
Missy waited for a second, then once again did her thing with space, this time while wiggling her ears (she finally managed to learn last week how to do it) and then they were standing in front of the store. Surreptitiously taking a glance at the people hiding around the street, all their cameras directed them, she straightened out and stepped forward.
"Attention, Circus. Come out with your hands held high and surrender yourself!" she called out in her most confident voice. "You are surrounded, so there is nowhere for you to run!"
The sounds and movement ceased in the store the moment she began speaking, and the moment she finished, several fireballs were flying in their direction.
Trying to act as if she wasn't surprised, she molded the local space in such a way that the fireballs impacted the street next to them harmlessly. According to Weaver, sometimes acting as if you had the upper hand was enough to defeat your enemy. Something about presentation…
Circus apparently used the fireballs as a distraction (not that it worked) and smashed through one of the windows advertising ancient VHS devices. Sadly for her (or was it a he?), her escape route was blocked by a hail of beams, courtesy of Gallant.
It was a tactic suggested by Weaver during their lessons. According to her, nobody liked beams of light heading for their faces. So Gallant, instead of concentrating on hitting somebody, should just saturate an area with his beams, thus corralling their target into the desired location or direction.
And seeing how Circus skidded to a halt, facing a veritable storm of beams of light, Missy once again declared Weaver the best.
The villain turned towards them, and despite the colorful dress they were wearing (this time blue and green) Missy could see that he was rather angry. So, with a grin, she called out once again.
"Hey, Circus, why don't you surrender?"
The villain just scoffed but didn't rise to the bait. Disappointed that they wouldn't get some nice banter, Missy watched as they tried a few more times escape using very impressive acrobatic skills, trying to evade Gallant's beams, but thanks to her making space suddenly self-contained and Gallant laying down a truly awe-inspiring suppressing fire the villain dressed like a clown couldn't make it far.
Seeing the futility of her actions, Circus once again turned towards them and called out, almost growling.
"Let me go… or I…"
"Or you what?" called Missy back, inwardly happy that both Gallant and Aegis were letting her have the limelight.
Circus just growled again, then made a motion with their hand and a giant yellow sledgehammer appeared in their hands, streamers fluttering in the wind.
"Or I will make you!"
"Oh, goodie! Fight it is!"
Missy summoned her own hammer, and studiously ignored Gallant's groan from next to her.
For the next few minutes, the watchers could only see violence and hear maniacal laughter…
Vicky sat down next to her boyfriend, settled her popcorn, took a sip of her drink, then turned towards Dean. She was rather surprised to see the faraway look on his face.
She reached out with a hand and put it on his shoulder.
"What's wrong Dean?"
That immediately broke him out of whatever daydream he was having and turned to look at her with an apologetic look. He reached up and patted her hand, then spoke up.
"It's Vista… she is getting scary…"
Vicky couldn't help but giggle.
She leaned towards her boyfriend, half-hugging him and patting him on the back.
"Oh, Dean. Don't worry, I will protect you from the pocket-sized Cthulhu!"
He gave her a sardonic grin but returned the hug. Then they broke apart and settled in their seats as the light dimmed, and the giant movie screen came alive. Though still made sure to lay her head on her boyfriend's nice shoulder.
"You weren't there, Vicky…" murmured Dean, shaking off his probable flashback, giving her a charming grin, then reaching for his popcorn…
Taylor turned another page of the book she was reading, as she watched her father out of the corner of her eye as he entered the house and hang his coat.
"Welcome home, Dad!"
"Thank you, honey," he replied while taking off his shoes.
"Food is on the table, made sure it's still warm."
"Thank you, Taylor."
A few minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen table eating a delicious dinner that Taylor literally magicked together.
"This is delicious, Taylor, but what is it?" asked her father as held eyed the bite on his fork.
Taylor swallowed the portion she was eating, then answered.
"Cilantro Lime Sous-Vide steak made from Reef Drake meat."
Watching her father choke on a bite of steak was rather funny.
"Excuse me, are you saying we are eating dragon meat?"
Taylor snorted and made a dismissive hand gesture.
"Bah, of course not. Drake's have as much in common with dragons as a hammer with a plank of wood."
Danny was visibly disappointed.
They continued to eat in silence, savoring the excellent food. Then, when they were almost finished, Taylor spoke up.
"I think I'm going to take a few days off."
Danny raised an eyebrow, but he didn't stop eating. Taylor couldn't blame him. Reef drake was exceptionally tasty.
"Whatever for?"
"I have a few things to take care of," answered Taylor, giving him the best mysterious smile she had learned from Anise.
Danny just sighed.
Taylor walked forward in complete darkness, ignoring said darkness, clad in her favorite hoodie, slurping the soda she bought on the way here. She navigated around in the darkness until finally reaching her goal.
As she watched her targets, she couldn't help but reflect on her stay on Earth Bet.
Originally, she intended to quickly check up on his father, see if he was alive and if yes, take him back to her true home, and then forget about Earth Bet altogether. And when her father told her that barely any time has passed during her adventures in Tyria, she decided to have some fun.
See the sights, get some new books to read and a few to take back for Taimi and the others, while also getting some souvenirs and maybe a few foods she had missed.
Then her father turned out to be a parahuman, and when she examined him when he was asleep, it became clear that her stay on Earth Bet wouldn't be that easy.
First of all, the fact that her father was a parahuman, and somehow had something connected to his brain would more than likely prevent him from leaving the dimension proper, at least without dying, and she didn't really want that.
So, Taylor needed more information. She needed to examine more parahumans to see if she could find something that would allow her to uncouple the connection from her father's brain. Thus 'convincing' her father to join the Protectorate.
Which worked out pretty well.
Her father got some rewarding work, and she could have fun with the heroes and assorted staff present, while also getting a bevy of information about the powers.
Thanks to her goal of returning to her original dimension, she was well-versed in the dimensional magics and sciences (even if the science part sometimes made her head hurt), so it was child's play to spot the dimensional tethers clinging to every parahuman.
It was another story examining them as they were expectantly small and efficient and, most of all, secure. And with her luck, the moment she tried to force open the connection, some manner of being would more than likely pick a fight with her. So, she had to act stealthily…
A few spars here, a training exercise there, and maybe a few lessons to the Wards, and she was steadily building up information that she was happily transmitting to Taimi, who expressed that she was profoundly bored. And something about Garm's fur…
Examining the electronic records of the Protectorate and PRT yielded little to nothing to her disappointment (Taimi was way better than their security), aside from a few dozens of moles, and a few interesting leads.
One of them was slated for termination for later, as according to their plans, they weren't ready to act, and Taylor didn't want to cause 'too much' commotion by taking out somebody willy-nilly. As much as she complained to her father and Taimi, and Gorrik, Logan, Anise… Taylor knew here she didn't hold the same authority as back in Tyria.
The other lead that garnered her interest led to her current location. And as she watched her targets, she calmly took another sip of her drink, while humming appreciatively at the taste. They just didn't make artificial favors like this back in Tyria.
Taylor wasn't the best at Divination, as proved by her disastrous grades back at the Academy, but even she could cobble together a few visions here and there.
And on Earth Bet, where there were no eons of magic muddling the sight, and even the presence of Mist was negligible, those visions become much more useful than the ones that prevented her from eating spoiled food back on Tyria.
So, when she cast her rather limited sight towards the future of Earth Bet (she had long ago given up divining her own future, as it was so chaotic and unpredictable that even the best seers in the best-case scenario just threw up when attempting it) what she saw shook her to the core.
Destruction on a level she hasn't seen since the Elder Dragons decided to throw a hissy fit…
And as much as Taylor liked Tyria and disdained Earth Bet, she didn't want to know she could have prevented its destruction.
So, she temporarily put aside her plans to return to Tyria (even if it meant she would miss the Crystal Desert Rally) and began to take action to prevent the future she saw.
And the first step was taking care of the individuals she was observing.
Taylor took another sip, still in complete darkness, then within a blink, vanished from sight.
Nobody heard the screams.
Following the crumbs, she reappeared in a weird room.
It was clinical, with metal walls and a clean design, yet it looked lived in. There was a simple bed, a nightstand, a wardrobe, and a desk with reams of paper on it.
Taylor spent a few minutes looking around, checking out the papers, then with a sigh, she squared her shoulders and stepped into a corner, and began waiting. She didn't really know much about her target, but she had time to wait.
Five minutes later, she was playing sandstorm on her device.
It took her target almost several hours to return to their room, and Taylor couldn't be happier as she beheld the man. He had a balding head, short, curly brown hair, and a rather mundane appearance.
Taylor waited until the man closed the door behind him to cast a spell that would isolate them from the outside, then cleared her throat.
The man whirled around immediately, his flabby hands raised ineffectively to protect himself.
"Who…"
But he couldn't finish whatever he wanted to say as Taylor raised a hand and released a small pulse of plasma that burned through instantly the man's head, taking out his Corona and Gemma with pinpoint accuracy.
The man stood there for a few more seconds, eyes wide, mouth open, then, like a marionette when its strings were cut, he collapsed, slowly filling the room with the smell of burned skin. Taylor took in her handiwork, then used a few spells to make sure that the man was really dead, and after she was satisfied, she once again vanished from sight.
Not caring about the stare from several rooms over from a rather young-looking girl.
Emily sat at her desk, inwardly marveling at how comfortable it was after she was healed, while at the same time cursing Weaver for daring to heal her. Seriously, if she weren't that powerful, Emily would have long ago made sure to transfer the woman to Antarctica or somewhere equally unpleasant.
She took up one of the newspapers her secretary deliver her every day, and she never had time to read, but now that Emily didn't have to deal with medical issues while she was not working, she wanted to indulge once again in reading a newspaper.
She opened the paper, and with a content sigh leaned back in her new non-medical and very ergonomic chair courtesy of Armsmaster as an apology for participating in that farce. Emily suspected Dragon put the man up to it, as Armsmaster would have never thought of it on his own. For once, she couldn't really complain. The chair was like a slice of heaven…
She began to read, hoping to enjoy some idle gossip until the inevitable tsunami of issues that Brockton Bay seemed to mired in reared their ugly heads, only to sit up in surprise as she beheld one article.
"Dragonslayers captured!
The infamous terrorist group was apprehended yesterday because of an anonymous tip…"
Emily immediately stopped reading, threw the newspaper on the desk, and began clicking on her computer. After a few seconds, she beheld the calendar for the parahuman's assignments. On it, visible the vacation time Weaver requested.
She looked at the newspaper, then back at her screen a few times, while contemplating how likely it was that her newest headache was the cause.
Granted, she didn't know if Weaver was friendly with Dragon, thus if she had some motivation for capturing the famous Tinker's enemy, but Weaver did spend a lot of time with Armsmaster tinkering. And he was friends with Dragon…
Emily leaned back, closed her eyes, and took a few calming breaths.
It wasn't like there was concrete evidence that Weaver was responsible. And it wasn't like it was worth looking into it…
She had enough headaches in Brockton Bay. There was no need to invite foreign trouble too.
So with a deep sigh, mood thoroughly ruined, Emily balled up the offensive newspaper and threw it into the trash bin, smirking when it went in without touching the rim and began her workday.
The faster she forgot her current thoughts, the better…
"This is the place?"
"Yeah… Not much, but she loves it."
Sophia snorted as she beheld the house that was little better than a dilapidated shack and continued her observation.
"Did you see her?"
Emma, sitting next to her in one of the gardens in an abandoned plot with an excellent view of the Hebert house, answered while handing her a binocular.
"No, only her dad coming home from work… He looked happy!"
Sophia looked at the house for a few seconds, then turned towards Emma with a smirk.
"Then how about we change that?"
Emma's eye lit up with interest, and she leaned closer, wanting to hear Sophia's plan.
"What were you thinking?"
"Well, first I need to get one of my stashes, then…
Sneaking out of Winslow was child's play, especially with Emma and Madison covering for her. So, Sophia quickly phased through several walls that she knew contained no electricity and one she removed the cables from, making an effective escape route from the school that only she knew about.
Then raced through the streets, hiding in shadows and wearing a disposable costume, not wanting to be caught by any of the millions of parahuman watchers in the city who had nothing better to do than to catalog the comings and goings of parahumans. Though it was rather useful to plan her extra patrols, for now, she wanted to stay hidden.
Reaching one of her hidden stashes, prepared well in advance, she retrieved a small bag from between two walls, a place inaccessible to anyone but to her thanks to her powers. She opened the bag to make sure everything was still in place, counted the little white baggies with a smirk and giggle, then closed the bag, put it into her backpack, and she was once again on her way.
It only took her around half an hour of running and phasing through various buildings to reach the part of the city where Hebert lived. Looking around in disgust (even the area where she lived was weak), she began her trek towards the house.
As she approached her target, she suddenly noticed that the wind seemed to be picking up, ruffling her clothing. She simply made a note to have an umbrella with her when she left school, then continued towards the house.
Carefully, and silently, she phased through fences and bushes and other assorted things that could be found in gardens. She sneered at the people living there; they were really pathetic. Her house wouldn't this easy to be infiltrated. Shivering at the wind that seemed to carry the February chill, she phased through the last fence and found herself in the Hebert's garden.
Following Emma's direction, she approached the door, phased through the door, and began heading for Taylor's room.
Opening the door, Sophia beheld the most boring and pathetic room she has ever seen, and she once agreed to attend a sleepover at one of Emma's lackeys…
There was no decoration, nothing worth any kind of money. Snorting at how pathetic Taylor was, she took off her backpack and pulled out the prepared bag. Before she opened it, she pulled out some disposable gloves, put them on, then opened the bag and slowly pulled out a white baggy.
She didn't know exactly what kind of drug was in it, but she took it off a merchant dealer, so it was probably 127% illegal.
But before she could move to open it, she felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder.
"Hello, Sophia…"
On instinct, she attempted to phase and flee, but to her horror, her power didn't seem to respond. So, trying to fight down her instinct to lash out, she carefully turned her head and looked at the person who seemed to be holding her.
To her surprise, it was an adult, with rather familiar hair.
"Weaver?" she whispered at the realization. Then she inspected the woman, and she felt herself go numb from the shock. "Taylor?"
"Hello again, Sophia," answered Taylor with a sad smile on her face. "Good night, Sophia."
And then Sophia knew no more.
Taylor watched as Sophia's body lay on the ground, the bags of drugs next to her, dropped there in her fright, and sighed.
"Was that necessary?"
She glanced at her father as he stepped up next to her and shook her head.
"Not really, but I wanted to give them a chance."
Danny placed a hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture, but said nothing more.
For a minute, both of them watched the sleeping girl on her floor, then finally, Taylor gave up and sighed.
"I better call the Director, before she starts to wonder where her star Ward has gone…"
Alexandria felt the teleportation go off, then the next second she beheld the skyline of Canberra.
While her face betrayed nothing, inwardly she just sighed.
One more city…
How many more to come?
She began walking towards the command tent set up by the locals, intent on figuring out what they knew about the Simurgh and her target when she heard a commotion behind her. Whirling around, she beheld a peculiar portal. They were nothing like Doormaker's portals or any other portal she ever saw.
It was practically a swirling mass of rainbow mist, in a shape of a circle.
Curious about who would use such a portal, she stayed put and watched, joined by the throngs of capes reading for the fight.
To her mild surprise, the first to step through was Armsmaster from Brockton Bay. The next was Miss Militia, then Velocity. She wondered for a second about where Brockton Bay got a portal cape when the question answered itself as Weaver herself stepped through the portal, clad in her ridiculous costume that seemed to be on fire and frozen over at the same time.
When Weaver first appeared, she, of course, got the transcript of her interview. So, even if she didn't believe a word of what she had read, she forwarded the data to Contessa to see if it was true.
And when the fedora-wearing woman came back saying that she couldn't find anything about her, she became more interested. Of course, when Contessa declared that the woman was a blind spot, that interest grew to an even higher level.
But as the woman seemed to be content in staying in Brockton Bay, they couldn't really deal with her, as the experiment was still ongoing, no matter how curious she was about her power.
In the end, they all agreed, unless the woman decided to leave the city, they would be content for now to let her be. They already got all the information about her from the Protectorate, so there was no need to go the extra mile for now.
And if what she was seeing from the Tinker reports, it was already paying dividends.
If the power sources Weaver and Armsmaster put together passed the tests, then it would change a lot of things.
Alexandria watched as Weaver waved a hand, and the portal vanished. Then the woman looked curiously around, and as Alexandria watched the other woman, their eyes met and a little stare-off started.
While Alexandria thought herself to be rather strong-willed, and confident herself, as she looked into Weaver's rather intense eyes, she couldn't help but feel that she was standing in front of a predator much, much bigger than herself. The moment the realization ran through her mind, an entirely new aura enveloped her, seemingly originating from Weaver, their eye contact still unbroken, and the surrounding people obvious to it.
It was majesty. It was honor. It was power.
She felt her entire being judged and weighted by an invisible judge, and she knew at the moment that Weaver was beyond anything they ever met. As if the woman was more present in existence than everybody else; as if her entire presence was keeping reality in check while at the same time altering it continuously.
Then it vanished, leaving Alexandria gasping for breath, and looking into the eyes of a bemused Taylor Hebert.
Then, to everyone's surprise, suddenly a set of giant rainbow-colored wing materialized on Weaver's back, and still looking into her eyes, ignoring the gasp and exclamations around her, the woman flapped her wings and rose into the air, while at the same time beginning to glow in an ethereal white light while her wings shed rainbow-colored mist.
Still shaken by her experience, Alexandria simply watched as Weaver rose above the crowd, who were watching her, then a simple staff appeared in her hand.
She waved it, and suddenly everyone, every parahuman, soldier, and as she turned around and beheld the city, every human in Canberra and around it began glowing in ethereal white light.
Then her armband beeped, and Dragon's calm voice came through it, and through every other armband, causing the gawking crowd to freeze in place.
"Simurgh approaching. ETA 2 minutes."
