Many thanks to BeaconHill and GlassGirlCeci for betareading.

Crystalline 11.1

"We need to start by making a perimeter," Armsmaster was saying as the door opened. "Whatever this cape's powers are, she's clearly dangerous. Containment should be our first priority until we have more information."

I slipped into the meeting room, shutting the door quietly behind me. Piggot, Dragon, Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and Aegis were standing around the table. Piggot and Dragon were glaring at each other, and Armsmaster was standing between them, clearly trying to mediate.

"We'd know more now if you had kept a better eye on Coil," growled Piggot. "The fact that we know next to nothing about a cape he was keeping in his base is ridiculous."

"We've been a bit busy," Dragon sniped back. "And it's not as though we know nothing. We know it's the Travelers' mysterious teammate, we know her powers are difficult to control, and we know she's dangerous."

"But without any idea what those powers are, how are we supposed to make any kind of plan?" Piggot barked. "I thought you—"

"Annatar!" Aegis straightened as he noticed me, standing by the door. I noticed that I was hunched over and forced myself to straighten. "You're back!"

I swallowed, trying to force a weak smile on my face. "For some value of 'back'," I said. "Who raised the alarm?"

"Fume," Aegis answered. "Apparently he got a call from Tattletale."

"Last we'd heard, Faultline's crew had left the Bay, and Tattletale had gone with them," said Armsmaster. "What's she doing contacting a former teammate now? How did she even get his contact information?"

"Warning him about this, apparently," said Aegis. "And I asked him how she got in touch with him; he responded with, and I quote, 'It's Tattletale.'"

Piggot made a low, frustrated sound in the back of her throat. "And he just decided to trip the S-Class alarm on the word of a supervillain," she muttered. "Clearly we've been a bit lax in his training. Can we trust her? Can we trust Fume? This is a lot of hearsay we're working with, here."

"There's definitely something making trouble downtown," said Dragon. "I haven't been able to get it on camera yet, but a couple of security cameras have been destroyed and a couple of my microphones have picked up sound. Gunfire and screaming."

"Has anyone gone to wake up Coil yet?" I asked, looking at Dragon. "We know he was keeping this mysterious teammate as leverage over the Travelers. He might be able to tell us more about her."

"He's not coherent," said Dragon with a grimace. "I was hoping you'd have a way around that."

"I can try," I said. "In the meantime, someone should try to get in touch with the Travelers."

"I agree," said Armsmaster with a nod. "And, as I said before, a containment perimeter should be our first priority."

"I'll get Renick on that," Piggot said. "Dragon, you said you hadn't gotten this cape on camera yet. That means we will soon?"

"I'm working on it," said Dragon. "I have drones flying in now. Some Protectorate thinkers are helping. We should have more information soon."

"Good," said Piggot, rubbing her eyes. "Fuck, I need sleep. First Nilbog, then"—she waved a hand vaguely in the direction of Armsmaster—"your people, and now this."

"No rest for the wicked." It took me a moment to realize that it was I who had spoken. "Let's get this done. With any luck, this will turn out to be simple."

With the memory of Narsil's shards fresh in my minds eye, I knew I wasn't that lucky.

Coil was curled in the corner of his cell, his back arched almost painfully as he knelt, apelike, on all fours. He faced the wall, but I saw him twitch as I stepped into the cell block.

I swallowed the flare of rage, as I had been for weeks. Thief he might be, but he remained useful. "Coil," I said, my voice perfectly calm.

He twitched. His head rotated to look at me, his bloodshot eyes almost bulging out of his head. His dark skin was washed-out and clammy; a sickly, splotchy tan where it once was a healthy warm brown.

"They took it," he muttered, his voice low and hoarse. "They took the Ring." He met my eyes, and there was madness and frenzy there. "They took it," he hissed. "Where is it?"

"In safe hands," said I, and hoped it was true. Sophia had taken it, I knew, and I hoped she hadn't forgotten it somewhere as she nearly had Cenya.

…That thought hurt. It hurt badly. I set it aside for now.

"Coil," I said, commanding. "The Traveler you were keeping safe, the teammate that was your leverage—she has escaped."

"Escaped?" he asked, his voice distracted, harried. "Escaped? Gone? Left me—it's gone, gone, gone…"

"The Traveler," I said sharply. "She escaped. How?"

"Escaped? No, no," he mumbled, shaking his head and clutching at his temples with sweaty palms. "No, set loose. Yes. Loose."

My face fell. "What did you do?"

"They came," he growled. His head snapped up. "They took it. You let them take it! You betrayed me!"

"You stole the Ring from me," I reminded him, my control over my expression failing as my lips twisted into a furious scowl. "Debts must be paid, in the end."

He hissed, catlike, spittle spraying from his gaping mouth. "Lies, lies, all lies! I served you! I swore on the Ring! Well, I have no Ring now! I—" he froze, his jaw slackening, and then leaned back on his heels and let out a terrible choked cry of anguish. "It's gone!" he screamed.

I stared at him. "You expect my pity?" I asked through gritted teeth. "My mercy? You did this to yourself. I could have taken it from you weeks ago. This was your doing."

Coil fell back against the wall, his hands frantically scrabbling one against the other as though trying to pick away at his own fingernails.

"Who is she?" I pressed. "What did you set loose on my city?"

He bared his teeth at me. "Go away," he hissed. "I swore on the Ring. The Ring you—"

Almost unbidden, my power flared. "Answer me, you insolent speck," I growled, my voice resonant with the familiar, deep tones of the reborn Lord of Mordor. "What have you unleashed on my city?"

He shrank back into the corner, his eyes wide and fearful. In them flickered reflected firelight. "Her name is Noelle," he whispered. "No cape name. She—she can consume people, and clone them, create copies, but wrong, backwards, with their powers, like evil twins, she was their leader, bad vial, wanted me to heal her, she—"

"Stop babbling," I commanded. He fell silent immediately. "How durable is she?"

He whimpered. "Very," he mumbled. "They thought she was turning into an Endbringer."

"Thank you," I said. I allowed my power to slip away, and as I diminished, I came back to myself. Before I knew it, I had taken a step back, my eyes widening in horror.

Coil had turned away from me, his hands rubbing at his face as he sat shrunken, pressing himself into a small corner of his cell. He was shaking. So was I.

It was so easy. So easy to slip down into that abyss where I had languished for so long. So easy to allow myself to use the means to which I had become accustomed.

The ends justify the means. Only, sometimes there were better ways.

Coil sat shrunken before me, shaking. Bile rose up in me in disgust, but whether it was for this ugly, twisted thing before me, or for the callous waste and cruelty of its creator, I couldn't say.

Without another word, I turned and left the cell.

"They wanted him to heal her?" Armsmaster said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what he said," I confirmed. "I assume that's how he kept them in his employ."

"It adds up," Dragon said. "We knew he had some sort of leverage on them, especially Trickster. This fits."

It was just the three of us, this time, Dragon, Armsmaster, and I, meeting in the same room as before. Armsmaster seemed to be trying to catch Dragon's eye, and she seemed determined to look anywhere but at him.

"Who was contacting the Travelers?" I asked.

"The Director," said Armsmaster. "With any luck, we'll hear back from her soon."

"I don't like relying on luck," Dragon said in clipped tones. "We need to decide on a response. It sounds like Coil wasn't exactly coherent."

"No, but I gathered some," I said. "Durable enough that her teammates thought she was an Endbringer, capable of making evil clones of capes, and of "consuming" people—whatever that means. Not sure what to do with that. Any idea for threat level?"

"That part is out of our hands," said Dragon, sounding annoyed. "I just heard from Alexandria. They've declared Noelle an A-class threat and code-named her 'Echidna.' Eidolon is on his way. He'll be here as soon as he finishes a few things up."

I blinked once. "Eidolon?" I asked, my voice even. "Whose brilliant idea was that?"

"His, apparently."

I cast my eyes skyward. "Of course it was," I said.

"Do we even know how her cloning ability works?" Armsmaster asked. "If it's a blaster power…"

"It isn't." The voice emerged from the far corner of the room. Even as it spoke, a swirling vortex of greenish light appeared, growing out from a pinprick. Out of the whirling power stepped Eidolon, his eyes glowing under his hood, and the light faded behind him. "It's a striker power," he said. "And I can make myself immune anyway."

"You've tested that?" I asked.

He hesitated.

"Great," I said, sighing. "I suppose it's useless to tell you to stay away?"

"Yes," he said.

"Fine," I shook my head. "Just… stay back, don't touch her, and don't do anything stupid."

His eyes narrowed slightly under his hood. There was a moment of tense silence before he sighed. "Your city, your rules," he said.

"We may not even need to fight her," Dragon said suddenly. "Coil was supposed to heal her, right? Fix the damage her powers had done?"

"That was the idea, yes," I said.

"Panacea might be able to do that," Dragon suggested.

"I doubt it will work," said Eidolon warningly. "Panacea can't heal monster capes, Case 53s. She generally can't undo changes made by a person's powers."

"You would know," I acknowledged. Bad vial, Coil had said. "But have you tested it since she received Nenya?"

There was a pause. "I admit we haven't," Eidolon said.

"Then it's worth a shot," I said.

There was, of course, one cape who could manipulate powers, who might be able to sever the bond between Noelle and the creature that had latched to her. But I doubted that now was a good time to bring up more of my abilities, with Armsmaster mere feet from me. Still, if all else failed, it was an option.

"In spite of the striker power?" Armsmaster asked. "I've fought Panacea once already this week. I don't really want to do it again."

"We can handle her if it comes to it," I said. "Panacea's powerful—far more powerful than she was a few weeks ago—but she's just one person. If we're careful, we can keep the situation under control."

"We also don't know how Echidna's power will interact with your Rings," Eidolon said. "Best-case, they make the bearers immune to her power. Worst-case, the clones come out with copies of the Rings."

"That one isn't possible," I said firmly. "No child of Ung—no power could make a Ring of Power like that."

"Yours did," Armsmaster pointed out.

"Not the same," I said, waving a hand. "Trust me on this."

"Bit low on trust at the moment," sighed Armsmaster, standing up. "But at least we all seem to be on the same side. I'm in favor of at least letting Panacea try. I think we can handle it if things go south."

"This isn't a democracy," Dragon said, narrowing her eyes at him before looking to me. "Annatar?"

I swallowed, stepping back. Sophia's bloodied form against the wall flashed into my memory. "I… really don't want to be in command," I said hesitantly. "Um. Can we be a democracy?"

"I'm in favor," Eidolon said immediately.

"So am I," I said relieved. "Then, should we tell Piggot to make an offer to the Travelers, if she's managed to make contact?"

"Already done," said Dragon, unmoving. "I have a suit there."

"Thank you," I said, smiling at her.

"Don't thank me yet," she said. "They want to talk to you, apparently. I'll wire the call to this room."

I nodded. There was a pause, and then, through the room's speakers, "Annatar." It was a masculine voice, adult, but still young.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"Trickster." There was a pause. "Noelle is here, too."

"I hear you have an offer for me." The voice was deep, but still feminine and recognizably human.

"We do," I said. "Have you heard of Panacea?"

"Your healer." Her voice was thick with something unrecognizable.

"She wouldn't like that designation," I admitted, "but yes. We're willing to ask her to try to heal you—make you human again."

"Can she?" Echidna—no, Noelle—asked. "It's almost too hard to believe…"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Like I said, we're willing to try."

"I appreciate it. What do you want from me in exchange?"

"That you surrender to our custody," said Armsmaster immediately. "That you not harm anyone else, and come quietly, whether the attempt to heal you works or not."

"Out of the question," said Trickster flatly. "Once Noelle is healed, we're going. We won't make trouble, but I haven't gone through all this just to see her thrown in jail."

"You can have the cell next to hers," Armsmaster replied grimly.

"We accept," said Noelle before Trickster could reply.

"Noelle—" Trickster's voice was both pleading and frustrated, but she interrupted him.

"We accept," she repeated, a low growl underlying the words. "Bring Panacea to heal me, and I'll stand down. Fine."

"Where are you?" I asked. "It's probably best if you not move. We'll come to you."

"Um." Noelle hesitated, audibly relaxing. "Not sure. It's a big square? Like a plaza?"

"Keene Park," said Trickster. "And Annatar? You pull one over on us like you did Coil, we're going to have a real problem."

I swallowed a thousand angry or dismissive responses. Now wasn't the time. "Everything's above-board here," I reassured him. "You have my word. We'll be there soon."