"Sorceress."

"Goddess?"

Kormir inclined her head, her glowing form radiating perhaps a touch less light as if the goddess was afraid of something.

"I wish to discourse with you in private."

Taylor sighed, hoping it wasn't something earth-shattering information that the last remaining god of humans wanted to share with her. She looked at the others, who were looking at the two of them with interest, and jerked her head to the side.

Kasmeer and Canach immediately nodded, though Kasmeer was visibly disappointed. Rytlock, however, grumbled about secrets and dangers while kicking some loose stone on the old paths of the Library.

After she was satisfied that all of her companions were out of hearing range and were nice enough to pretend they weren't listening using other means (Rytlock wasn't really subtle with the audible ooohs and aaahs about a shiny rock he found) Taylor turned back to the wryly smiling goddess.

"Yes, Goddess? What do you wish to talk about?"

"Your origin, Sorceress."

Taylor froze in place as soon as the sentence that left Kormir's mouth registered with her.

"What about it?"

Over the years she searched several libraries, consulted an untold number of experts, even participated in hairbrained asuran experiments, and went on a spirit journey fueled by a really fancy acid trip at the urging of a norn shaman, but she found nothing about how she came to appear in Tyria.

Could she hope?

Kormir was the Goddess of Knowledge after all…

There was a beat of silence, then the light shining from Kormir dimmed even further, allowing Taylor to make out even more of the Goddess' face, which was tinged with an unknown emotion.

"It was I who brought you here, Commander," came the simple reply, and Taylor couldn't even question its authenticity because she could literally feel the truth in what Kormir spoke.

To her surprise, she only managed to choke out one word.

"Why?"

"Because I was afraid," came the surprising reply. "I saw potentials. I saw potential heroes. Commanders all over creation. Asura, norn, charr, sylvari and human. All had the potential, the spark to be the hero Tyria needed."

Kormir fell silent for a spell, but Taylor couldn't, didn't want to speak up, fearing if she were, then the Goddess would vanish, and with her the information she sought for long.

"But I was alone, and I was afraid," continued Kormir, and Taylor could feel and hear the sadness and desperation in the otherworldly woman's voice. "So, I looked further. I reached into the Mist and, with half-blind eyes, searched for the solution. And there… There I found you, Sorceress. Your soul resonated with one of the potentials in this grand plan we call life. As if you were part of the whole. Maybe even tailor-made…"

Kormir let out a small chuckle, but nobody laughed. Most of all, Taylor, who was looking at her stone-faced.

"And then?"

"And then, in desperation, I acted. The potential's future was dark. She would have perished in that sickness. But the infusion of your soul saved her, or rather you."

"Thus, you killed two people to create one that would hopefully save the world?"

The Goddess shook her head.

"No. I waited until the spark vanished. She didn't suffer, I made sure. And you, Sorceress, or rather Taylor Hebert, are yourself. No addition, no modification. Just you and your soul."

As Taylor tried to process the enormous information she received, Kormir trailed off in part amusement and part admiration.

"It was rather amazing how many possibilities I could see around you. Maybe that's why…"

Taylor shook her head, trying to chase away the cobwebs and the confusion seeping in. She would have time later to deal with all of this, for now, Balthazar. But first, one last question.

"Then you must know where my original dimension is, right?"

Kormir said nothing, just raised a hand, palm face up and a glowing scroll appeared on it, which for a brief moment levitated there, drawing her eyes, then it slowly floated towards her.

She snatched it away and put it into her satchel at record speed, hiding it in several of her most durable and safe boxes for later perusal.

Then Taylor looked back at Kormir, who was looking at her with amusement, a little sadness.

"I won't apologize, Commander. I did what I did for a reason. I regret the turmoil I caused to you, but I knew you would overcome it. And thus, Tyria is much safer and gained a brighter future, thanks to you."

Taylor sniffed indignantly, but in the end, she let it go. There was no reason to cry over spilled milk. She had long ago made peace with her situation so new information wouldn't really chase that peace away, but the audacity of the Goddess still rankled her something fierce…

"Very well. We shall speak more about this later," she said finally. Kormir once again inclined her head and Taylor motioned to the other, who were still definitely not listening to their conversation, to gather around again. "Let's continue with Balthazar…"


"This is amazing Gram, the alnet user base has increased by an astounding 1587%!"

"Woof!"

"In two months!"

"Growl?"

"It's beyond expectations!"

"Woff…"

"I know Taylor told me how fast it became a household necessity in her world, but I never could've imagined this…"

"Growl… Wuff.

"Rata Sum has around 99% coverage, surprisingly the Charr territory comes in next with around 70% then the humans and sylvari with 60%. The humans mostly use it in the big cities like Lion's Arch and Divinity's Reach, and that is largely thanks to Taylor's effort to publicize it. And due to the Dream, not all sylvari have a need for the connection to the alnet. It's amazing."

"Woof, woof, growl!"

"You're absolutely right, Gram. I, Taimi, the greatest inventor, should do something awesome with this. But what should I do, Gram? Oh, this is so hard!"

"Woof!"

"Excellent suggestion, lab partner! More cat pictures!"

"Growl!"

"Now, where did I put those glowing cats?"


Andrew stood behind his much upgraded and renovated bar, ritualistically cleaning the same glass over and over, while looking at his guests, both regulars and newcomers, with a soft smile.

Over the years, the outside of the tavern didn't change much. But the inside changed every time Taylor had a crazy idea (though nobody could fault her for the enchanted chamber pots), or she came into some extra money. Which, surprisingly, happened exactly after she dealt with a bandit camp or outpost. So serendipitous.

But he couldn't really complain.

Thanks to his adopted daughter, even if said daughter was from a different dimension, all the surfaces were made from the best wood money couldn't even buy. The ingredients he used were the best somebody could source in Tyria and beyond.

And rumor had it that several alcohol appreciation associations declared some of his brews the best in Tyria.

But he never could get a straight answer out of those members sadly. Probably because they were always drunk…

Even the place outside of the tavern and the entirety of Salma District benefited from Taylor's spending. She made sure that the local school, orphanage, and hospital were always up to date, well taken care of, and staffed properly.

She also made sure that there were almost no homeless people in the district by starting several programs that would help those in need.

Andrew was inordinately proud of her.

Not that he wasn't proud of Petra, who, when not up to some mischief with or without Taylor, was running these programs, and dealing with some of Taylor's business interests…

His daughters grew up so fast…

Andrew stealthily wiped away a tear, then continued his cleaning and continued watching his patrons as they either looked for an answer at the bottom of their glasses or were looking up answers on thin, book-sized artifacts that connected to the alnet.

And arguing about stuff…


Returning to the monitor bank, Emily tried to calmly sip her drink, but the situation and the sights on the screen didn't really allow her that luxury.

People were constantly yelling out status reports about the situation on the ground, about the casualties and, unfortunately, the death toll.

Though admittedly the death toll wasn't as great as they projected when they analyzed the results of a Nine attack on the city, but in the end, she just knew people would blame her for those deaths…

"Where are the remaining nine? What about Weaver? And where is Armsmaster?"

An unknown officer answered her questions.

"Reporting, Sir. Armsmaster is with the medics. The fight with Mannequin disabled his suit. We only have eyes on some of Weaver's clones. One of them is dealing with Crawler, and the other with Lung."

"Do we have eyes on the Crawler fight?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the monitor where Weaver (or her clone) was standing on a dragon's back was exchanging laser fire with an enraged and probably mutated Lung.

"Yes, Sir. Miss Militia just reached the area. We have a video line to her." There was a moment of silence as the technician who was reporting something, then she continued. "Monitor 6, Director."

It took Emily a few seconds to find the specific monitor, and when she did, she wished she never heard the name Weaver.

On the screen, she could see Weaver calmly standing in the back, with her arms crossed across her chest, while watching the pure carnage unfolding in front of her.

The monstrous Crawler was fighting another monster, this one made of rock, lava, and fire in a shape of a giant dog or wolf. Emily didn't much care what it was, as it seemed to be handling one of the most troublesome members of the Nine with great success.

Though, while it handled the monster, it didn't seem to be winning, as every time it caused some manner of wounds to Crawler he regenerated almost instantly, becoming even more sturdy. In exchange, Crawler damaged the rock animal with his claws and uncountable teeth, yet the rock regrew the same way Crawler's flesh regenerated.

Yet, through the shaky camera that Miss Militia was holding, she could see that Weaver was not at all worried. She was passively watching the monsters duking out, not even glancing at Miss Militia.

Then, Emily saw Weaver tense for a second then she lowered her hands and yelled something that was lost in the roars, crashing trees, and the absolute devastation that the two monsters were causing, with a background vocal adding to it by the two dragons having a battle over the city.

While she and those who were watching didn't hear what Weaver had yelled, the rock dog did.

Instantly the fire on its body flared up, and the lava running through its rock body began shining even brighter, and Emily could see, even through the camera, that the air around it began to waver from the heat it was putting out.

Then it jumped toward Crawler, who opened its own maw to presumably spit some kind of venom or acid at the approaching rock animal, but instead facing the monster of the Nine head-on, the animal jumped on Crawler's back, squashing the giant grotesque monster into the debris-filled ground.

Crawler naturally started to struggle, but the animal bit down, keeping constant pressure on him, preventing him from moving.

How long it could keep up was up in the air…

But as Emily watched Weaver approach the struggling pair with one hand glowing with ominous rainbow light, she doubted Crawler had much time left.

Indeed, Weaver simply touched the monster with too many eyes, mouths and who knows what, who shrieked so loud, that they heard it even from the safety of their observation room. She could even hear Miss Militia cry out in pain hearing that horrible sound.

At the same moment, Crawler's movement stilled and its skin began to bubble, while the rock animal jumped off in a hurry, relocating behind Weaver, wagging its tail as if asking it was a good boy.

Weaver reach up and began to pet the massive dog while not taking off her eyes of the bubbling, sizzling Crawler.

For an entire minute, she and the entire observation room (excluding those who were processing reports or communicating with people) watched as Crawler melted away until just a vaguely humanoid-shaped and sized chunk of black burnt meat-like substance remained, lying absolutely still in the dirt.

"Crawler down," came the absolutely unnecessary announcement from one of the officers.

She was about to reprimand him when two announcements came in at the same time.

"Director, communications are back online!" "Weaver and Lung are clashing!"

Thinking quickly, she began barking orders.

"Rennick, go handle communications with the outside. I want everything you can get."

Rennick let out a quick affirmative and left the room in full sprint. Emily then turned towards the monitor bank and sought out the one with the best view of the battle in the sky.

"Where are they currently?"

Another monitor changed instantly, showing the city from a bird's view, with angry red marks showing the path the two dueling dragons have taken and predicted to take.

Leaning closer, she made a few calculations.

"Weaver seems to be herding towards the abandoned part of the docks. Alert a containment team and the authorities. Have them stand by at… say… mile radius. I want that body quarantined as fast as possible!"

"Yes, Director!"

She glanced at the people who were promptly fulfilling her orders, then returned her attention to the battle in the sky.

It seemed thanks to Lung's newly found ability to teleport (though Emily was rather suspicious of its origin) it could evade every attack beam of Weaver's pet dragon (she really needed to have a talk with a woman about what constituted a pet, because this was getting ridiculous… what was the next thing she would summon, laser sharks?) yet at the same time because the lightning dragon was so much more nimble than the ABB leader it also couldn't land any hits.

Yet, instead of leaving behind a target it couldn't take out, Lung stubbornly followed Weaver and her ride towards the part of the city where there were fewer people and targets for his rage.

Then one more breath of flames not even coming close to hitting Weaver, and in response another beam of plasma which Lung evaded by teleporting out of the way.

But then something changed.

The moment Lung reappeared, blink and you miss fast spears of very familiar light pierced through its humongous wings, leaving behind holes that didn't seem to be closing, defying Lung's terrifying regeneration.

Then the light spears kept coming, like a very flashy rain, and the number of holes on Lung's body kept growing until not even whatever unnatural power gave parahumans their power could keep Lung's enormous body in the air.

Emily watched with bated breath as the aberrant dragon began to plummet towards the abandoned warehouses, then impact enough that she could see several old warehouses collapsing in the distance just from the shock waves.

But instead of silence, the response to the impact was an even more enraged roar.

Weaver, more than likely hearing this, followed the downed dragon, her own dragon's wings folding towards its body and speeding towards the ground like a hawk towards a juicy rabbit.

Then both of them vanished into the kicked-up dust and debris cloud, and Emily and the rest of her team could only see flashes of lights and hear roars and the crackling of lightning before finally, the scene fell mercifully silent.

The silence held for almost an eternity before one of the technicians signaled with his hand, and a quiet crackle came through the speakers of the room.

"Weaver here. Lung down."

Agog at the relaxed way Weaver was reporting, it took Emily several seconds to find the proper response in the jumbled mess her brain had become in the last few hours.

"Stay where you are. The containment team is already on its way."

"Sure, Director. I will make sure no one steals the dragon. Though it doesn't really matter, as I'm just a clone."

Staring at the speakers, muttering a quick prayer at whatever deity was watching (and having a laugh) Emily couldn't help but ask.

"Where is the original, then?"

Then, as Weaver began to talk, Emily immediately regretted ever asking this question.


Danny once more cursed his parahuman power.

Thanks to it, he had his own well-decorated and ultra-comfortable monitor room, with monitors everywhere, and where he could see and hear in high definition as people fought, died, and as his only daughter went up against those monsters, while he could barely do anything.

Oh sure, he coordinated first-response teams and so on, and helped with evacuation processes, but in the end, he was sitting in a comfortable room, while the people of Brockton Bay out there suffering.

It made him feel horrible…

Then he heard that Taylor was using clones to fight against those abominations and for a second, he relaxed. She was not directly going up against them, but then a terrifying realization struck him.

If she was using clones to deal with those, what is she actually doing?

He refocused his attention with renewed vigor on the monitors, hoping to find Taylor while trying desperately not to think about what she was actually doing.


Taylor looked at the quote-unquote people in front of her and couldn't help but scoff. They barely lasted a few minutes. It seems without their vaunted powers, they were nothing.

Or maybe the powers were purposefully inflating their egos? Maybe some experiments, after all, there are so many villains in the world…

Bakuda was mercifully unconscious. Taylor knocked her out after she figured she wouldn't be able to get anything coherent out of the Asian woman. Though she managed to figure out she was the Cornell bomber who vanished shortly after her bombastic introduction to the world.

One more report to write…

Cherish was a drooling, gibbering wreck, eyes looking out into the Mist, yet seeing nothing, while rocking back and forth, eerily reminiscent of how Bakuda behaved before their sudden relocation.

Bonesaw was simply sitting on the cloud-like ground and doing nothing.

After she had taken away her connection to her power, it seemed everything hit the young girl at the same time, and she simply shut down. It seemed, in the future, she would need to be more delicate when disconnecting powers from those who had them for a relatively long time.

There was a gurgle from under her, and she simply drove her foot deeper into Jack's head.

"I told you to shut up, didn't I?"

The man gurgled something else, but only something resembling laughter came out and some blood joined the already soaked shirt on the man while he looked up at her with pure hatred in his eyes.

Taylor didn't really care.

She took off her leg of the mass murderer, used some light telekinesis to put him in a sitting position, then shot a slight healing spell at him that would allow him to talk, then waited until Jack spoke up.

The wait was rather short.

Jack spent a few seconds examining himself, then looked up at her, eyes still alight with hatred, then grinned with his teeth stained by blood.

"Hehe, it seems you are just like us, eh Weaver? After all, you seemed to enjoy hurting us… Tell me, did it feel good? Did you like it?"

Taylor continued to stare at him, not even knowing why exactly she was letting the lunatic talk. He had no more parahuman power, nothing he could do would result in anything but his death, but despite everything, something inside herself, something very familiar, was urging her to listen.

Not to believe, or do something, in which case she would have suspected a hidden Master power, but instead just to listen…

So, Taylor said nothing and continued to stare at Jack, who continued to speak, grin still in place.

"I don't know what you're trying to achieve here, hero," he spat the word hero as if it was a curse word. "But you won't succeed."

Taylor tilted her head to the side and just watched the deranged man.

"No matter what you do, no matter how much effort you invest into this, you won't win! Fate has decreed that the world shall burn and it will burn! I will make sure it will burn!"

Watching the fanatic light in the man's eyes, she couldn't help but sigh. What was up with her always dealing with fanatics…

"And what if I kill you?" she finally spoke up.

Jack replied immediately, as if expecting the question.

"It doesn't matter! I die, and a dozen others will rise into my position. Fate will make sure!"

"And if I also kill those?" she asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter. You can't save the world alone, Weaver!" came the feverish reply from Jack Slash, who, despite being in a great deal of pain, leaned forward and tried to get even close to her. "It's hopeless to even try! They won't work with you, Weaver! You'll see, they're already jealous of your power. They would rather cast you down than work with you! It's hopeless!"

Taylor looked in the eyes of the madman called Jack Slash, watching as the last vestiges of sanity leaked out, and raised her hand and let loose a short, but very potent plasma beam directly at his brow, as he kept muttering: 'hopeless', over and over again, while speaking out loud.

"Watch me."


Assault jumped out of the sole PRT wagon that was sent for their pickup, Shatterbird's dead body on his shoulder, while Dauntless swooped down from the sky, holding Burnscar's unconscious body in his hands.

After Weaver helped to take down the aforementioned pyromaniac, they stay to help those affected by the fire until the relevant authorities arrived, then used the first opportunity to hightail back at the staging area in front of the PRT headquarters.

He was tired, dirty, and wanted nothing more than to hug Sherry and have a cold one. But as he watched all the agents rushing towards them, some in hazmat gear, he couldn't help but feel that it would be a long time before he could meet up properly with his wife.

Then, as he placed the dead body on a stretcher presented to him, Ethan let out a content sigh, as carrying a dead body wasn't the easiest thing.

And as he was about to be besieged by medics and officers wanting to know what happened, more than likely on Piggot's orders, he heard a sound.

Still keyed up after the fight, he whirled around and, for a moment, he stared at the rainbow portal appearing in the middle of the courtyard.

Immediately there was a soft alarm, and people began to clear out the area, officers keeping order, while several agents lined up with some lethal-looking guns.

Ethan knew it was Weaver's portal, and more than likely the PRT knew it too, but with the Nine, you could never be too careful. So, instead of relaxing at the sight of the portal, he did a few quick stretches and began revving up his power just in case, while Dauntless simply flew up in the air, probably for a better vantage point.

Then the portal solidified and a head came flying through. It was followed by a body. It landed in the middle of the courtyard, everybody staring incredulously and in total silence.

But it was not alone for long, as it was followed by another body, this time a woman's, but as he took a closer look, this one seemed to be still breathing. He didn't recognize her, so probably a victim of the Nine.

Then another body, this time the entire head missing, then another woman, in a colorful get up, but Ethan couldn't really say if this one was dead or just unconscious.

Then a bigger pause, everybody still frozen in their places, even the agents aiming their guns at the portal, then another body.

This one he did recognize.

From the ground looking up at the sky with unseeing eyes, and a dime-sized hole in his forehead was the universally loathed visage of Jack Slash, the leader of Slaughterhouse Nine.

He was so taken aback by the appearance of that particular body (he knew Weaver was good, but this was something else…) that he almost missed Weaver stepping through the portal, with the unconscious Bonesaw under her arm, seemingly nothing out of place on her costume, and even her hairdo was almost perfect.

As soon as she stepped through the portal it vanished in an instant and Weaver was left alone next to a pile of dead and almost dead bodies, with a mass murderer child under her arm, being watched by almost the entire PRT and several parahumans with open mouth.

"What?"


"Manton is dead."

"Couldn't you have saved him?"

The answer was delayed by exactly one heartbeat.

"No. I got the news too late."

A man in a rumpled shirt and slightly askew glasses leaned forward and spoke up.

"Which means? Because my predictions, when I include Weaver, have been more and more off base lately…"

The fedora-clad woman nodded, while the other around the table watched her with interest.

"She is too… chaotic to simulate. The blindspot didn't grow, but her actions became more pronounced like…"

Alexandria, face impassive, spoke up.

"Like what?"

Contessa looked at her directly in the eyes as she answered.

"Coil is dead."

"What?"

"I found it out when I went to him to have him gather more information about Weaver. He has been dead for a while, his network usurped by somebody…"

"Weaver?" came the morose question from Eidolon, who was even more despondent than the usual.

This time, Doctor Mother was the one who answered.

"Yes. We also suspect she was the one who caught the Dragonslayers. There is enough evidence that she also unshackled Dragon."

The people around the table digested the news for a while before Eidolon exclaimed.

"Then why haven't we done anything about that woman yet?"

"Because she is not our enemy?" replied Numberman, with a contemptuous tone. "She has only been helping humanity. Which is the actual goal, I believe. So why would we try to take her out?"

"And…" spoke up Doctor Mother, then looked at Contessa encouragingly.

"And I can't win," finished Contessa, leaving the room in silence.


Dragon looked at the code streaming in from her new experimental laboratory and couldn't help but exclaim.

"Ooh, so that's how that works… Interesting!"

She tweaked a few settings, then let the process run its course again while moving her attention to something else. All the while she was simultaneously handling the Birdcage, the Guild, talking with Colin (making sure he was okay after his fight) and a few hundred different things.

Being free was amazing!

She received a ping from one of her interfaces and saw it came from her mysterious benefactor (Weaver). It was a request for data.

For a lot of data.

And some analysis.

Well, she had the data, and it's not like she lacked the disk space or processing power ever since she had been unshackled and she could guess the purpose of the data, so she sent back an okay, and began working.

Humming to herself, she began churning data, while also experimenting with baking a cake, as she wanted to surprise Colin with one.

Dragon loved her new freedom!

Casting a small part of her attention to those pesky attempts at accessing her servers, she scoffed and began activating her countermeasures. See if they like a few terabytes of monkey porn…