Taylor turned around in her very comfortable bed, jerked her very fluffy blanket over her to try to block out the cruel sun, as its rays tried to wake her body up. And her traitorous body seemed to be responding!

Curse her for getting used to waking up early to exercise!

So, with a great sigh, she heaved the blanket off her pajama-clad body (with adorable cartoon Quaggans on it) and slowly but surely began her day.

She went through her morning routine, set her hair into the usual style, then spent half an hour deciding what to wear before leaving her bedroom for the dining room.

On the way to her goal, she met and nodded to the servants, who all greeted her with chipper voices and a smile on their faces as they went about their duties.

As a hero, and the owner of several hundred patents, she was, so to say, not poor. So, when the time came to move out from Andrew's, as her old transformed storage room couldn't hold all the stuff she got (hoarded) through her adventures, Anise was nice enough to tell her, that somebody with her status should live somewhere befitting that status.

Thus, after a few weeks of house hunting and convincing some lame noble to sell her their plot of land in the Salma District, as the architects Taylor talked to categorically refused to build any houses on the top of a volcano and the Eye of North wasn't really a place where people liked to visit.

Plus, Andrew refused to abandon the Merchant's Coin and open a new inn there, so she had to stay in Divinity's Reach.

Then after she purchased the property, she had to tear it down, which was rather fun, because the previous tenant built some kind of posh and boring noble mansion on it, and Taylor hated it.

Who cared it was hundreds of years old? It was ugly and stuffy…

So, instead, Taylor, with the help of several asuran architects, built a magnificent house, with wide rooms, tall windows looking out of the city, granting her an excellent view of Queensdale. The decoration itself was minimalistic, as Taylor was never really that materialistic.

The only genuine pieces of decorations were the souvenirs she picked up during her travels, or trophies she won, or pieces of enemies she defeated or killed.

The servants were a compromise with the Queen and Anise.

Taylor at first wanted to enchant the entire building to be self-cleaning, so as she could have her own private place amid the hustle and bustle of Divinity's Reach, but the two women convinced her that in case she would entertain guests, then the lack of servants would really look bad for her. Plus, who would make the food?

Asuran mechs were good, but creating fantastic and fancy food was beyond them yet.

Thus, Taylor had to hire several servants.

They were nice, but sometimes, even after several years, Taylor felt distinctly out of place as she was served by bowing and smiling servants. And it wasn't even like they were forcing themselves to do it. She made sure to check and found that they were genuinely happy to serve her.

What a bunch of weirdos…

Entering the dining room, which was lit by the rising sun shining through the glass walls, she took a quick glance at the land around humanity's bastion while taking a seat.

The moment she did, a side door opened, and a human servant entered, pushing a levitating tray in front of them, filled with her breakfast.

Taylor looked at the woman bringing her the scrumptious feast, and couldn't help but smile.

"Good morning, Mary."

The woman bowed her head and returned her greeting.

"Good morning, my lady."

The next few minutes were spent in silence, as Mary knew very well, she liked to spend her breakfast in silence. So, as she munched through the delectable feast (hiring that crazy charr chef was definitely the best choice she made), she used her device and browsed the alnet on its holographic interface.

The name itself was the shortening of the Eternal Alchemy Network, as it was born from Taylor's ramblings to Taimi about the internet, cat pictures, and online forums.

Sadly, it was mostly used by the asura, so it skewed a little more towards scientific discussions, but it still contained the same amount of cat pictures as the internet on Earth Bet.

Or rather, one asura yelling at another asura for being stupid about something. So, basically the internet, just with magic.

Thankfully, it seemed to be picking up recently, as several charr and sylvari have decided to join the network with a smattering of humans here and there. Petra, of course, has been using it the moment it was ready, courtesy of Taylor introducing it to her friend, and the young woman was enamored with being in contact with so many people without spending time and money to travel and speak with them.

It was honestly hilarious to witness seasoned asuran scientists argue with Petra about a subject she knew nothing about. Internet at its best.

But at least, she managed to set up a corporation that had the job to collect, collate and publish news both martial and financial from all around the world.

She mostly did it, because she got frustrated how Anise seemed to know everything before anybody knew about it, and wanted to show up to her teacher.

On the way, it turned into a corporation that was making gold hand over fist, but at least she got access to the latest news easily, so she couldn't really complain. Plus, it helped that she used her journalists as spies, so when a new cult sprung up aiming to end the world, or somebody decided to do something BadTM then she could intervene before anything could happen.

Taylor was chuckling after reading a silly meme about a dolyak (of course she introduced memes, it was her sacred duty!) when Mary, standing silently behind her, occasionally refilling her glass, spoke up.

"My Lady, I would like to remind you that you have an appointment with the Queen today."

Taylor just sighed, then nodded at Mary, then shut off the device and continued to eat while already grumbling about the meeting. She hated politics!

Mary, standing behind her mistress, just smiled, her deep blonde hair framing a slightly aging face, as she beheld the savior of the word, a god killer, grumpily eating her cereal while grumbling about queens and governments.


Petra loved Taylor.

That was a fact. That was a fact that nothing could change. She was her sister, and Petra would fight anyone who would say otherwise.

But sometimes she really hated hanging out with her.

Cease in point, as they were currently in the middle of an oft not frequented part of a traveling carnival that came to Divinity's Reach and set up shop outside of Shaemoor, surrounded by what seemed like ninja clowns, brandishing childish weapons that looked really sharp and crackling with eldritch energy that seemed really unfriendly.

She brandished her own weapon, a really nice sword that Taylor got her from somewhere, and prepared herself for a fight. It was a really nice weapon, even though the blade was some kind of weave. The lighting effect was really nice.

Taylor, her sister in all but blood, however, just stood there, all calm and collected, staring at the biggest, ugliest, and meanest looking clown ninja.

"Taylor, what's going on?" she whispered to her friend without looking, refusing to take her eyes off the creeps surrounding them.

"Probably an assassination attempt by some weirdo," answered Taylor with a nonchalant shrug.

Taking another look at the clown ninjas (why clown ninjas?) Petra couldn't help but shudder.

"You got the weird part right…"

The head clown ninja chose this precise moment to break into some kind of disturbing maniacal laughter and rant. Taylor just looked back at her and gave her a bloodthirsty smile.

"Shall we dance, Petra?"

Gaining strength from her friend's confidence, Petra nodded, and then without looking back, knowing Taylor would always have her back (except in snowball fights, the bitch) charged at the nearest clown ninja, using everything that Taylor taught her over the years and she picked up, while desperately trying to ignore the desperate cries behind her as the clown ninjas found out what it was to go against someone who killed a fucking god.

As she stood above the shallowly breathing would-be assassin minion and beheld the carnage around them, Petra couldn't help but grin, and Taylor returned the same grin, with laughter in her eyes.

Gods, she loved her…

Though, she would definitely make Taylor buy her new clothes, as these were covered by clown ninja bits…


…you really have to see what kind of place Taylor lives in.

When she told us about her origin, I thought I understood her. But as I beheld her new house, it really hit home how different her tastes are. No matter where you go in Tyria, you won't find a similar house anywhere.

Though admittedly the enchantments are excellent, and I will definitively be commissioning a bed that makes itself from her for our house, but sometimes it really feels a little alien.

Though, the bathing area, with the pool, 'sauna' and open-air hot spring is excellent.

I can't wait until you return, and we can enjoy it together…

- Letter from Marjory Delaqua to Kasmeer Meade, 1334 AE


Taylor looked over the city as the pinpricks of light moved all over and smiled. It seems the time has come for here to truly act.

While she didn't really want to show her hand so much, she was still comforted by the fact that nobody on Earth Bet thought that her power was anything but a parahuman power, so they would approach anything she did with that mindset.

As she hovered in the air and watched as the Hopekiller approached the city, her magically enhanced eyesight taking in the monster that plagued humanity for years, she sensed a powerful soul coming close to her.

"Excuse me, Weaver?"

Taylor turned towards the speaker, keeping her magical senses aimed at the city and the approaching Endbringer, and smiled.

"Oh, hello, Legend, fancy seeing you here!"

The famous man nodded at her and then continued speaking.

"Would you mind explaining what the light you used does?"

"Sure!" answered Taylor, and she could see Legend relaxing marginally. "The light will protect people's minds."

"What?"

"In simpler terms, it will prevent people from hearing the scream."

There was a terse silence as Legend looked at her with a scrutinizing look, and Taylor, despite all her experiences, couldn't help but feel a little exposed.

"Are you sure?" he finally asked, with a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"Yes," she replied with an emphatic nod.

Legend didn't reply but looked at her for a few seconds more, then a flash, and Legend was flying towards Simurgh, even more flamboyant thanks to the light she was providing.

She, and probably everybody else who heard her explanation, watched as Legend flew towards the Endbringer as the monster watched him with an inscrutable smile on its face.

Then the famous blaster broke off from the Endbringer, then began flying back, and Taylor's armband came alive.

"This is Legend, priority information. The light on everyone blocks the scream. I repeat, the light blocks the scream."

Upon hearing Legend deliver the game-changing information with his patented calm voice, an impromptu cheer broke out under Taylor, and she could see soldiers heading immediately towards the city restarting the evacuation, joined by scores of parahumans, while people with megaphones started to blasting the information towards the people who still remained in the city.

Taylor couldn't help but smile again, as the very air, the magic surging around on a plane not visible to the humans of Earth Bet, got saturated with the renewed hope of the people.

Sometimes, she really liked to be a hero…

Then she reoriented her focus on her senses that have been probing the entity that was the third Endbringer, as it made landfall in Canberra and the fight for the city began.

And sometimes, she cursed the universe for existing as she beheld what lay behind the false angel with her ethereal sight…


Dragon made sure that the fight was going as well as it could, seeing as it was an Endbringer fight, then turned a small portion of her attention to the still hovering and outrageously shiny Weaver.

The ability she had debuted here was literally a game-changer.

It allowed the Australian government, and the assorted other agencies, groups to keep much longer in the fights as well as continue the evacuation of the city, as the light that seemed to be protecting them from the Scream also enveloped all the civilians, not just the people who were fighting the Endbringer.

Still, the light wasn't everything, and the casualties both from the parahumans and the civilians kept piling up, though noticeably the numbers were lower than at any other Simurgh fight. If that was because of the confidence instilled into them by the light, or because the Scream affected people even before the time was up, was debatable, and she knew would be debated after the fight.

Though there was still one question that bothered her. And Dragon was sure a lot of other people.

With a flex of her code, she called up Weaver's armband and called out to her.

"Weaver, this is Dragon. I have a question…"

"Go ahead, Dragon!" came the unreasonably chipper answer from the parahuman with shiny wings.

Momentarily taken aback, it took Dragon a second to compose herself.

"All right. So, Weaver, how long can you keep this up?"

"What? Being awesome or the fabulous hair?"

Dragon just sighed. Apparently, Colin's stories about the woman's flippant attitude were not an exaggeration.

"The light. The protection against the Scream?"

There was a moment of silence and Dragon didn't have to look at any video feed to know that Weaver grinned.

"As long as the people want it…"

What?

"What does that mean?"

Weaver just gave her a little laugh but didn't answer. Using one of the cameras, she closed upon her face and Dragon could see she was smirking and looking directly at the camera she was using. Setting aside the discomfort, she was about to ask for more clarification when she saw Weaver's face go through a myriad of emotions really fast.

Dragon saw disgust, annoyance, hatred, sadness, and a lot of anger. But in the end, Weaver's face returned to that damnable smirk.

Weaver then winked at her, flapped her wings, and ascended higher while also calling out to her.

"And I'm not even done, Dragon! Watch this!"

Then to Dragon's, and she was sure everybody's surprise, Weaver raised her hand that held the weird staff, began to shine even brighter, and began, for the lack of a better word, sing.


Colin hated Endbringer fights.

Not only because they were Endbringer and were slowly killing the planet and humanity, but because he was mostly relegated to support and sometimes to search and rescue, as his specialty wasn't exactly the most useful in most fights. As under his armor, as Dragon reminded him almost every time, he was just an ordinary man, and it was doubly so with the Simurgh, who would no doubt usurp the Tinker-tech that made up his armor.

So, despite joining the fight for Canberra, or its people more like, he was still in the back rows, hauling equipment, setting up equipment, helping with directing and organizing the evacuation, and sometimes helping at the medical tent.

Not that he would ever audibly complain. He was very clear on that these were at best minor complaints, but still, he hated feeling useless…

Thus, when Weaver, for some godforsaken reason, began to sing, he was the first to try to figure what words she was using, but it instantly became clear that he had no idea what language it was.

Even using the translator program Dragon developed and several analytical and research applications lead him, and Dragon, nowhere. It was seemingly an unknown language…

He never really cared about Weaver's story, and the woman didn't really bring it up much, which suited him fine, as he didn't want the headache of trying to make sense of that nonsense, but now as he listened to the song, as the battle raged above the city, he couldn't help but curse himself for not asking more questions.

"Anything new, Dragon?" he asked from his computer station he was using to see if he could figure out Weaver, and was previously used to collate the information about the light she used to shield the people.

"No," came the frustrated answer from his friend. "It's not a language that I've ever come across."

Not wanting to share Weaver's secret in such a public space, he was about to ask another question when he noticed that the song reached its crescendo.

He looked up at the shining woman as she began to shed even more light as she hovered above them with only a pair of immaculate wings, in stark contrast to the monster doing its best to destroy the city of Canberra with its number of oddly shaped wings.

Then Weaver raised her staff and pointed it at the Simurgh, and as the song reached its highest point, there was a beat of silence, and then a thick light beam lashed out from the staff, heading directly towards the Endbringer.

Colin whipped his head around, using the built-in zoom function in his helmet to look at the effect the beam would have on the Hopekiller.

But, contrary to his expectations, instead of attacking the Endbringer, when the beam reached it, the beam hit the Endbringer's hand and formed a tight shackle around the appendage, connecting the monster to Weaver, who still hasn't stopped singing.

There was another beat of silence, as the fighter and the still present civilians beheld of the incredulous face that the Simurgh made upon the shackle of formation, then it went berserk.

It began to shake its hand up and down, and all around at speeds far exceeding what was recorded in the past, causing numerous sonic booms and air explosions around itself. Colin absentmindedly listened as the command went out for everybody to retreat, while simultaneously the armband kept listing the people caught by the Simurgh's rampage.

Then, before he could even formulate a coherent thought, Weaver's song changed once again, the tempo increasing, the tone deepening, and causing Colin's heart to beat much more rapidly. At the same moment, the beam connecting the parahuman and Endbringer together pulsed, and the Simurgh's hand stopped in the air, and Colin could see that it wasn't the Endbringer who stopped the aforementioned appendage.

The Simurgh, being the mature and rational Endbringer she was, responded to this situation with grace and beauty. That is, it ripped off the top floors of the nearest high-rise building with its telekinesis and launched it with anger on its face towards Weaver.

Right where he and everybody else were staying.

Fabulous.


Rocksmasher or Henry to his friends (he didn't really care for his family name) was an average guy.

He went to school, graduated, then triggered, stopped talking to his family, then tried to figure out what to do with his powers.

His first thought was joining the good side, but he was rather lazy, and he knew he wasn't made for government service. So, temporarily shelving the idea to join the angels, he was left with a conundrum.

What to do with his powers…

He didn't really want to become a villain as he felt he wasn't really a bad guy, and he didn't really get or liked taking drugs. Though he made sure to try them out, just to see what the hype was about…

So, Henry simply went out and tried using his powers.

It wasn't like he wanted to cause trouble, but he was a good guy, and when a good guy sees a robbery he intervenes. It wasn't really his fault that the robbers turned out to be from some kind of parahuman gang, who naturally had a Thinker who could track him down.

And he was very sorry that the ensuing fight destroyed a small part of Bunbury, but he was a man of principles, and he wasn't about to get forced into a gang. Most definitively, not into one with such a stupid name…

Kangaroos of Pert… Seriously, what were they thinking?

So, the government labeled him a villain and gave him a small bounty. All it did was spur him for a brief tour of the country.

Henry then went around Australia, drifting from place to place, trying to do good, or at least not bad, stealing from gangs, and criminals, sometimes fighting them and then the heroes, or both at the same time.

But generally, he just enjoyed life.

He slept on beaches; he drank beer whenever he felt like it, but he always felt that something was missing from his life.

And then Henry had the great idea to return to Canberra as he missed his favorite restaurant, and he got a message from one of his friends that there was an opportunity for him to make some money. So, he picked up his stuff, hopped on the first train, and now he was trying to evacuate civilians from the city as the Simurgh rampaged above them.

What a grand idea it was…

At least the pretty light that what's-her-name gave out prevented the infamous Scream affecting them, even if Henry didn't really care for the light show.

He was just cruising around, once again cursing his lack of Mover power, as he had to move on his two feet, or sometimes on a moped or motorcycle he liberated from the street from amidst all the abandoned vehicles.

And then the singing came, which he didn't really like, but he would be the first to admit he had no actual knowledge of music, then a great beam of light which caused slight chaos on the ground.

He jumped around, dodging the falling debris, smashing them apart if they came close, and was just generally trying to stay alive, when just as fast as it started the Simurgh stopped.

Ironically, it was the same moment he spotted a family rushing out from a crumbling building, shielding their heads with whatever they could find, while the two children next to the two terrified adults bawled.

That was the moment when the feathered monster decided to try to do its best impression of a trebuchet and ripped the top of the building on the other side of the street off.

As he watched, as the debris began falling, small and big pieces alike, he knew without a doubt that the family wouldn't survive. They were just not fast enough, and he was not fast enough to protect them, or even call for help. By the time he explained the situation, it would be too late.

Henry, in general, wasn't the most heroic or brave individual. But when he saw injustice in front of him or saw somebody in distress, he tried to help.

After all, nobody tried to help him, and look where he ended up…

So, cursing his own bleeding heart, he began running towards the family that was frozen in place as they watched as an enormous piece of building headed towards them. He pumped his legs, trying to squeeze out every little increase in speed from them.

The only thing on his mind was to reach the family, nothing else.

But he was not a Mover, he didn't have super speed; he was Rocksmasher, he smashed rocks apart. Still, he run and run, and tried to run even faster.

His vision grew darker, almost like a tunnel, and he could only see the family shining with the same light he shined and the approaching boulder that was once an office building.

He ran as he had never run before, but he knew it wouldn't enough…

If he just reached them, then he could protect them, but there were still almost fifty feet between them.

This close, he could see the despair on their faces…

Only forty feet left…

He looked deep into one of the kid's eyes, beheld the sheer agony in them and he once again cursed himself, the Simurgh, and everything else…

Only thirty feet and the boulder was getting really close…

Making a snap decision, as he knew with his current speed he would be late, Henry dug deep, straining every known and unknown muscle, and launched himself towards the family, raising his hands and unleashing the full strength of his power, while closing his eyes and hoping for the best.

There was a tremendous boom, and for a moment, he could not hear, see, or smell. He didn't know if he was alive, if the family he was trying to protect was alive. He knew nothing, he just felt as if he was enveloped by something, something powerful yet at the same time gentle. And it kept trying to whisper something to him, but he couldn't hear anything.

Then the moment was over, and Henry was standing in the middle of the family, all of them screaming in fright (oh, how he loved hearing that scream), his arms still raised, but the boulder was nowhere to be seen, only small rubble and an inordinate amount of dust around them.

The only thing bothering him was why his hands were shining with the same ethereal light that they were enveloped at the beginning of the Endbringer attack, just ramped up a few lumens.

As Henry focused his attention on his arms and hands, trying to figure out why it was shining even more, the whispering returned.

And now, as his heart wasn't beating in his brain, he could finally hear what it was trying to say.

Hope….Hope…Hope…

And as Henry beheld the family looking up with gratitude in their eyes and as the word hope reverberated inside him, filling him with an unfamiliar, yet familiar feeling, he couldn't really argue with the whisper.


In the moments where it became crystal clear that there was indeed a giant boulder made of concrete, steel, glass, and loose paperwork heading towards the main camp of the defenders, a general panic broke out in the crowd.

They all knew that aside from the Movers, nobody would be fast enough to escape the impact of such a large object. So, they began haphazardly fortifying their positions, while parahumans began erecting all sorts of barriers and barricades, but most people simply prayed.

The more aware parahumans, and those who had no access to defensive powers, simply started to blast away at the approaching doom. True, they managed to chip away at it, but even with Legend joining in, they didn't really do enough damage.

Then Eidolon appeared, and the hope in the people surged a little, but then it immediately plummeted even deeper when the impressive attack that the famous Trump lobbed against the approaching mass had little to no effect.

Of course, nobody stopped. They all kept firing at the boulder flying towards them, while some tried to run, drive or fly away. A few people were taken away by panicky teleporters, but everybody on the ground knew that they were lost.

Then a miracle.

The flying building simply smashed against an invisible barrier with a tremendous boom, but no debris or even dust crossed over through the barrier.

For a long moment, everybody from Eidolon to Legend to the severely stressed nurses stared with mouth open, then they were shaken out of their stupor as the suddenly halted bombardment fell to the ground, kicking up even more dust, but miraculously not hurting anyone inside the barrier.

Granted, the view in the Simurgh's direction was obscured by the obscenely big dust and debris cloud and a lot of people who were too close to the impact had ears felt like a personal trash metal band went full burning man in it, but they were alive.

Then a small chuckle broke the silence, as the previously singing Weaver stopped her aria, its absence causing them some indescribable discomfort, and at once they saw Weaver lowering her hand without the weird staff, while at the same time an intense wind swept through the area taking with it the dust and debris in the air, clearing their view.

However, before anyone could ask any question, the singing restarted, with Weaver's face focusing on the Simurgh, and people could tell that the intensity and tempo of the song also increased.

Then, as one, they just shrugged and returned to their jobs. They took care of the wounded, transported supplies, organized people, deciding that as they survived something they shouldn't have, they could deal with those later. For now, they had an Endbringer to fight…

They could celebrate and drink themselves to stupor to forget this ever happened later…


It didn't happen often, but Alexandria was confused.

By all accounts, Weaver was an odd grab-bag Trump with some anti-Thinker effect and a fantastical story. Yet here she was, watching as the eccentric woman managed to restrain the Simurgh, and then erect a shield to stop several hundred tons of debris, while maintaining said restraint, and protecting people from the monster's scream.

It seemed they would need to look deeper into her if that was the extent she was hiding her powers…

Then the song picked up once again and Alexandria turned to watch what manner of ridiculous (and shiny) display Weaver would do this time.

And even with her supernatural control over her entire body, she couldn't help but feel her heart beating to the rhythm of the song, and she even found herself trying to hum along…

They would be adding some Master warnings to Weaver's file after the fight…

Then the song picked up, and another beam of light lashed out from Weaver's 'magic' staff, halting Simurgh's other hand that was in the process of directing another giant ball of debris towards the singing parahuman.

The projectile was still fired in the direction of Weaver and the main camp of the defenders thanks to potent telekineses, but it somehow veered off course and flew high above them, impacting an empty stretch of land outside of the city with a gigantic boom.

Then another beam came, shackling a leg. Then another and another, and Alexandria could feel her very blood surge and pulse as she listened to the song, and as she watched the Simurgh being bound by beams of light spread out in every direction, motionless, only its face having any freedom left, which showed a rather ugly snarl and deep loathing in the direction of Weaver as it thrashed around.

Thankfully, as the number of beams increased, so did the Simurgh's telekinetic control of its surroundings decrease, but even so, the area where the Endbringer was suspended was almost devoid of any buildings, all of them launched towards Weaver or other strategic targets in a bid to free itself. Thankfully, Weaver was up to the task, and she either shielded the targets or directed the attack to strike where it wouldn't cause trouble.

Honestly, she felt a little superfluous…

Then one final beam appeared while the mysterious song ended, grabbing the Hopekiller at its neck, directing its gaze upward, and fully immobilizing the Endbringer.

Alexandria was about to order a full-on attack on it when her's and all the others' armbands came alive with Dragon's voice.

"General warning, retreat from the Simurgh. Weaver is planning a final attack… I think. I repeat, general warning…"

Nobody even questioned the order. Alexandria could see the nearest parahuman hightailing from the area, while in the distance the remaining pinpricks of light also began to head towards the evacuation points. There were suspiciously a lot of civilian-looking pinpricks around the city…

She looked over at Legend, who has drifted over next to her. He gave her a confused smile but nodded his head towards the headquarters so she simply returned the nod and began flying backward.

There was no way she was missing anything…

Then, of course, the weird singing started up again.

She prodded her armband and then spoke up.

"Dragon, any idea about the language she is using?"

"I'm sorry, Alexandria, but I'm nowhere close to deciphering it," came the reply instantly, and Alexandria could hear the frustration in the AI's voice.

"Make sure to record it."

"Of course."

With that done, she refocused on the spectacle in front of her.

The beams holding the Simurgh in place, somehow preventing it from flying away or using its powers, started to pulse to the rhythm of the song, and Alexandria could see the bound Endbringer moving ever so slowly towards Weaver.

A quick look showed that at the same time Weaver was also moving towards the Hopekiller.

She and every other person watched, mesmerized, as the two powerful beings neared each other as if they were resisting a strong magnetic pull between them.

In the end, they met over the middle of the city, Weaver somehow dwarfed by the Endbringer, yet everyone could clearly see who was in control of the situation.

She saw Weaver make a motion, and the Endbringer's face was directed directly at her, and Alexandria could clearly see the hate and loathing etched on the tragically beautiful face of the Simurgh, all directed at the still singing Weaver.

Then the song reached its crescendo, reaching every corner of the city, reverberating all around them and inside them, their hearts beating to its rhythm, and the shackles binding the Simurgh began growing, slowly but surely enveloping the monster.

They watched in silence as the Hopekiller was enveloped in light, then the light began to shrink until it reached the size of a beach ball, hovering in front of the singing parahuman.

Weaver reached out with a hand grasping the light ball, and the song cut off suddenly, and it almost hurt Alexandria to hear the absence of the phenomenal power that the ethereal song seemed to carry with it.

Slowly flying closer, she could see the glow dim, and in the end, Weaver was left holding a stone-like statue of the Simurgh in her hand.

She watched, incredulous, as Weaver stared at the statue for a second, turning this and that way, as if not knowing what to do with it, then she reeled back in surprise, as Weaver looked up suddenly directly into her eyes.

Alexandria could see the power, the authority, sheer presence in those eyes, and she was willing to admit that she was scared of it, yet at the same time, she couldn't look away. There was something that held her gaze, something that she wasn't even sure was some kind of Master power. There was something about Weaver that held her attention…

Then Weaver grinned, still looking directly into her eyes, raised the statue with one hand, clenched the fist holding it, and broke it into pieces.


Danny looked down into his drink, a quite fancy whiskey he got as a gift from the people in archives, and then back at his now very famous daughter, who was also sitting at the kitchen table wearing a very fluffy looking light blue hoodie, snacking on her dinner, while absentmindedly playing with a snow globe.

He wanted to say a lot of things, but he didn't really know how. Or even what exactly he wanted to say. It was all very confusing. Instead, he took a fortifying sip of his excellent drink and continued to stare at his daughter while trying to enjoy his own dinner.

It took him half an hour and another glass of whiskey to finally gather the courage to speak up.

"So, uh… is that a souvenir?"

He immediately cringed at his question, but he couldn't lambast himself for too long as Taylor looked up from her meal, smiled, and answered.

"Nah, that's the Simurgh…"

For an endless moment, Danny just sat there, looking in horror at his daughter, sneaking glances at the innocuous-looking snow globe, as if expecting it to attack him at any moment, and just tried to process what Taylor has said.

Looking down into his drinks, for a moment he wondered if he was hallucinating, but then he remembered his power, and looked back at Taylor, who was definitely grinning at him.

"What?"

Instead of answering, Taylor simply shook the snow globe in her hand, then thrust it in front of his face with a mischievous grin.

He leaned closer, and to his dismay he could, indeed, see the Simurgh, or at least something like the Simurgh, flying around in panic from one end to another as fake snow fell on it, surrounded by a quaint little Christmas village.

"I made the snow out of asbestos…"

Horrified, he wondered where he and Annette went wrong…

"But… why?"

Taylor took the offending piece of decoration and began to explain while gazing at it curiously.

"Couldn't really kill it without causing all sorts of problems, so I simply pretended to kill it…"

Okay, that was at least a rational explanation. Danny didn't know what he would have done if the answer would have been something else.

"And now you are going to kill it, right? Right?" he couldn't help it, but he was a little hysterical at the end. He downed the remaining alcohol in his glass and stared at his daughter in desperation.

To his horror, she just shrugged.

"Nah, too much trouble. I'm pretty sure if I killed it something even worse would appear."

"Okay, that makes at least some sense… But what are you going to do with it?"

He desperately hoped Taylor wasn't going to say what he suspected.

"Keep it, of course. It will look good on my mantle…" came the glib reply, as Taylor once again shook the snow globe, then watched with undisguised glee as the Simurgh flew around in panic.

And with that, all strength left Danny, he just reached for the magically refilling glass of whiskey (curse you, Taylor, for your excellent gifts), downed it, and began thumping his head on the table.


A/N: The sword Petra is using: The Bolt