Many thanks to BeaconHill and GlassGirlCeci for betareading.

"Ta—Mairë!" Aegis floated down towards me as Sophia and I exited the building. His mask was stretched by his wide smile. "All of the Empire out here have surr…" He trailed off, staring into my face. I wasn't even sure what my expression was. "What's up?" He looked between me and Sophia. "What…" Then he looked behind us, and fell silent.

Emma stepped out of the Medhall Building. Her head was bowed, and her matted red hair fell in a curtain hiding her face from view. Sophia had bound her hands wordlessly, and wordlessly we had led her down the elevator. The only communication had been a few glances between Sophia and me.

I took a deep breath and forced myself back into the present. "Aegis," I said. "Kaiser is in a tinkertech helicopter on the roof. Get him out and bring him down here; he may need medical attention.

"Is he unconscious?" Aegis asked, wrenching his gaze from Emma and looking back at me.

"Or dead," I said evenly. "I'll explain later." Once I understand. I looked around for other heroes and found Miss Militia talking with one of the PRT troopers. "Miss Militia!" I called, heading over. Sophia and Emma followed.

She turned to me, started to smile, and then froze when she saw Emma. "…Yes, Mairë?"

I pointed at Emma behind her. "Can you get someone to take her to base?"

Miss Militia blinked once. "Yes, I can handle that. What are you going to do?"

I looked at Sophia. She looked at me. "We need a few minutes to talk," I said, turning back to Miss Militia. "We'll make our way back to base after that. We can talk to her then."

Emma shifted behind me, but I didn't look at her. I couldn't. Not yet. In front of me, Miss Militia just nodded. "Very well. Should the PRT leave you a van?"

I looked at Sophia. She shook her head. "It's only, what, a mile to the PRT building?" she asked. "Let the troops get some sleep. We'll walk back."

Miss Militia nodded again. "All right. Feel free to call if you need a ride, or any other assistance."

"Of course," I said, turning away. Sophia followed me as I strode off into the night, past the troopers loading defeated-looking gangbangers into vans, past the questioning gazes of the other heroes we passed, past the awed stares and fearful mutterings.

Once we had passed by most of the activity, I sighed and spoke. "Dragon?"

"Yes?" Dragon's voice was soft and gentler than I could remember hearing it in a long time as it came in through my earpiece.

"We're going to need some privacy."

"Of course, Taylor. I'll only look in if I hear my name, and I'll alert you if anyone comes your way."

"Thank you." My aimless walking had led us to the edge of one of the few parks which dotted downtown Brockton Bay. It was only a block in size, but on that block was a grassy hillock dotted with trees. A few picnic tables clustered in the center, near the top of the hill, and a few benches were spaced around the outside perimeter of the green. Meandering sidewalks and earthen paths wandered here and there among the grass and shrubbery.

I walked over to the nearest bench and fell into it, pulling my helmet off before resting my hands on my knees and staring out to the East. I could see the faint twinkling of the boardwalk's lights reflected on the water of the bay in a gap between the buildings.

Sophia sat down beside me, her mask falling to the ground and her hood dropping to her shoulders. Her hands clutched one another as she gazed down into her lap. On an impulse, I reached out and slipped my hand between hers, gripping gently. She squeezed back.

For a few minutes we just sat there, staring out over the city and the water as the sounds of the PRT cleanup slowly began to die down.

"We did it." Sophia broke the silence at last. "The Empire is gone. The last gang in Brockton Bay, and they're just… gone."

"It hasn't really sunk in yet, for me," I admitted. "There's so much else… swirling around in my head right now."

Sophia laughed hoarsely. "Yeah, me too." She leaned back against the bench, her head lolling back so that her green eyes reflected the stars above. "God. What a fucking day."

My lips twisted. "What an hour. Damn the day."

She chuckled again, looking at me sidelong. Her hands squeezed mine again. The stars glittered in her eyes. "So… we agree on what happened up there, right?"

I nodded. "Emma…" I could barely find the words. "She just betrayed the Empire. Tried to kill Kaiser. Prevented his escape. Tried to stop you from getting caught in her trap."

"To be fair, we'd have caught him without her help," she said. Then she grimaced. "Shit. I mean, things were never simple, with her. I made her trigger. I'm not blameless here. But…"

"…But she joined the Nazis," I finished for her. "You have every right to cut her away. After everything she's done? She joined the Empire, she almost killed you four nights ago—"

"She let me go." Sophia looked back up at the sky. "I can't believe I didn't see it then. Maybe I didn't want to. But she deliberately opened that path for me to teleport out. I'm certain of it, looking back."

"She also broke your ribs," I pointed out.

"Yeah." Sophia let go of my hands to rub her face exhaustedly. "What the fuck? Like, what the actual fuck? What the hell was going through her head? I thought I was supposed to be good at insight, but somehow I've just… blocked out Emma. I guess I've let myself be blind to her. God, and just when I was starting to, I don't know, feel good about myself."

I put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She shifted in my grip to find a more comfortable position, and ended up resting her head on my pauldron. "You should feel good about yourself," I assured her firmly. "I don't know what's up with Emma either, but she's not innocent in this. Whatever this is."

"I'm not saying she is," Sophia said quietly. "I'm saying that I'm supposed to be a hero, and just because she's done some things wrong doesn't make me right in abandoning her."

I bit my lip. On some level, I had done the same thing, hadn't I? No. I'm quite finished orienting my life around Emma. That was my step forward. Wasn't that what I'd said to Sophia, all those weeks ago? I had just been Annatar, then, the cape with strange powers and a sense of purpose but no idea from whence that sense had come. It had been a self-righteous, proud statement, made without any serious thought by a self-righteous, proud person.

But then again… "It's not that simple, I don't think," I said, petting her shoulder with my thumb. "Look at Purity. If we separate ourselves from this, look at it impartially—how is Emma's situation different from her? She threw herself wholeheartedly into evil. Certainly, there were extenuating circumstances. There always are—nothing in this world is born evil. Before whatever happened, before Emma turned away from the Empire, she wouldn't have been any more suitable to walk this road with us than Purity was. We are, in some part, responsible for what she has become—but that doesn't mean we should take on all of the responsibility, and nor does it mean she should be absolved freely, any more than Purity should be just because she was manipulated by Kaiser."

Sophia bit her lip. "I… it takes some mental gymnastics, doesn't it? Separating the guilt I feel from some sort of, I don't know, abstract justice. Is it even right to make that distinction?"

I opened my mouth to respond, and then realized I didn't know.

Sophia didn't press for an answer. "What do we do?" she asked quietly. "Where do we go from here?"

I shrugged helplessly. "We offered Purity help if she would only turn against the Empire and help us bring them down. Emma just did exactly that without ever being offered. Don't we owe her what we promised Purity?"

"Can we even give it to her?" Sophia asked, and her voice caught. "I don't know how you did it, Taylor. You looked at me, at the person who had made your life hell, at the person who made you trigger, and you somehow found it in you to befriend me, to forgive me. Emma hasn't done half that much to me—she beat me up once, she joined a gang which has done more—but I made her trigger, not the other way around. And in spite of all that, I don't know if I can do for her what you did for me. I don't know if I can put it aside."

"Do you really think I was so much of a saint?" I asked wryly. "Sophia, the only reason I was so ready to work with you was because, underneath the charisma and buried beneath the amnesia, I was still Sauron. I was manipulative, calculating, and ready to use anyone and anything to achieve my ends. I would have used you and cast you aside. You are so, so much better now than I was then." I sighed. "I don't know how much we'll be able to do with Emma. Personally, I mean. So much has changed—in me, in you, in her. We're not the same people we were when we all attended Winslow together."

"It's so strange that it was only a few months ago." Sophia sighed, her body relaxing into mine.

"It really is," I agreed, smiling down at her. "But even if we can't find it in ourselves, in our weakness, to extend our hands to Emma—at the very least, we can make sure the PRT as an organization does so. At the very least, she deserves our impersonal help getting through the storm on her horizon. Even if we can do no more, we can do that much."

"Yeah," Sophia said, almost a sigh. "Yeah, I can do that. And… and I guess we should talk to her at least once, right? Try to… to understand. To figure it all out."

I nodded. "We can do it in the morning…" I began.

"No." Sophia pulled away from me and stood up. "I put Emma on the backburner for months. Look where that got us. No. She deserves our focus, our attention, our respect. For at least one night."

I smiled up at her. The moonlight glistened in her hair as she stood over me, and for a moment she seemed to brighten the street more than my armor ever had. "Okay," I said, standing up as well. "Let's go, then. But…" I added, poking her gently on the shoulder, "…you look dead on your feet. Care for some coffee first? My treat."

She laughed, a sudden, bright sound, and as she looked back at me her eyes were sparkling. "Sure," she said, reaching down to pick up her mask. "Coffee first. Then Emma."

Emma had been set up in a proper conference room. Despite our silence when we brought her out of the building, Dragon or Piggot must have figured out some of what had happened. There was a large, polished table in the center of the oval room, surrounded by comfortable armchairs. Emma sat in none of these. She stood facing the large windows overlooking the East, staring out over the dark waters of the Bay and the glimmering lights of the boardwalk.

She looked at our reflections in the glass as we entered. Her eyes were hooded with dark circles, evidence of many sleepless nights and stressful days. All three of us were out of costume, and the scene felt oddly nostalgic, as though we were just three Winslow students with a bad history meeting to reminisce.

None of us spoke as I closed to door and sat down in a chair by the table. Sophia sat beside me. Emma seemed frozen to the spot.

"…Emma?" I said, and the name, so unfamiliar in my throat, now, caught on my tongue. "Do you want to sit down?"

That seemed to jolt her into action. She turned jerkily and sat in a chair opposite us. Her teeth worried her lower lip. After a pause, she spoke.

"You have questions," she said quietly. "I'll… I'll do my best to answer them. That's the only reason I'm still here."

Beside me, Sophia tensed. I glanced over at her. She was staring down Emma with an intense light in her eyes. "I've been blind to you for a long time," she said quietly. "But not now. First question—what's that supposed to mean?"

Emma twitched. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. Fuck no." Sophia was practically shaking. I put my hand on hers, startled, but before I could say anything, she burst out. "You're not. Not after tonight. No, no, fuck no!"

Emma shrank back into her seat. "Sophia!" I exclaimed. "What is—"

"She's planning to kill herself!" Sophia growled, leaning forward as though trying to resist the urge to leap across the table. "She's planning to tell us what we want to know and then jump through those fucking windows. What the fuck—" She cut herself off, breathing heavily.

I turned to Emma. I didn't know what my expression looked like. "…Is it true?"

"Yes." Emma didn't even hesitate. "I'm… sorry if that makes you uncomfortable."

"Un-fucking-comfortable?" Sophia barked. "It… I…" she struggled for words.

I took over with the only question that seemed apt. "…Why?"

Emma blinked at me uncomprehendingly for a moment. "I'm not you two," she said at last. "I'm not strong, or brave, or motivated. I survive by preying on the weak, flattering the strong, and hiding from the truth. I can't do those things anymore, and I'm not strong enough to change."

"Oh, fuck you!" Sophia had found her voice. I started, staring at her aghast. "You think that putting us on a pedestal gives you an excuse to take the easy way out, and leave us to pick up all the pieces?"

Emma flinched, stuttering. "I… I don't—"

Sophia grimaced, putting her face in her hands. "Sorry," she said, her voice hoarse. She stood up. "Taylor, I'm going to step outside. I'm not helping."

"Please don't go," I said. Her eyes met mine. "I won't stop you," I told her, gazing into the green. "But—please."

She bit her lip and slowly sat back down. "Okay," she said, exhaling. Then she turned back to Emma. "Sorry. I shouldn't have… freaked out, I guess."

Emma didn't answer. None of us spoke for a moment. "Emma," I said at last. "Can… can you listen to one thing I have to say, and use your power, and try to believe me?"

She looked me in the eye, waiting.

"I don't want you to die," I said, enunciating clearly. "I don't think you deserve to die."

She swallowed thickly. "It's not about that," she said hoarsely. "It's that I—the world is a hostile place to me now. I can't look at anything anymore without feeling as though my very existence has somehow made it worse. Even when I tried to do something right for once, help you take down the Empire, I couldn't even get it right. I almost got Sophia killed. I am a net negative to this world, Taylor. And I want to make it a better world, if I can."

Sophia was taking soft, shuddering breaths beside me. I reached to her under the table and squeezed her knee comfortingly. I thought I saw Emma's eyes flicker, but I didn't pull away. "What really happened, four nights ago, when you and Rune fought Sophia?" I asked quietly.

"Sophia found the right words," Emma said. A tiny, strained smile twisted her lips. "I thought that was your power. But she found the right words to make me face the truth."

Sophia put a hand over her eyes. "And apparently, even when I find the right words, I make people want to die," she said, wry humor in her voice. "Nice. Great hero work, there."

"No—Sophia, this was my fault," Emma said sharply, her eyes flicking to Sophia. "You… you made mistakes, sure. But my choices were mine." She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I was a fucking Nazi," she said, and the disgust thickened her voice like syrup. "And it wasn't—I really started to live the part. I stopped going into shops with black cashiers. I wouldn't sit next to black people in the cafeteria. I watched four of—of my people—put a guy's teeth on a curb and stomp on his head because someone claimed he'd taken their daughter to a synagogue. And I didn't stop them. I didn't say a word. That's fucked up. I'm fucked up.

"I walked this road of my own accord, and this is where it ends. No one forced me here. No one dragged me unwilling. I did these things. I betrayed Taylor. I started bullying her. I came up with the locker. I wouldn't let go when you tried to stop me. I joined the Empire. I beat you half to death in that alley. I almost killed you tonight. All those horrible things—" something caught in her throat, and she glanced at me. "Those things of darkness, I acknowledge mine."

My family had read The Tempest, once, while Emma was over. I could still remember my mother's voice intoning Prospero's monologues. But before I could speak, Sophia's hand fell and her eyes darted up to Emma. "That's not a tragedy, Emma."

I blinked.

"No one dies at the end of The Tempest," Sophia said evenly. "Prospero forgave his brother. Ariel is freed. Caliban is given back his island."

"…I didn't know you read Shakespeare," Emma said quietly.

"I didn't, before," Sophia said. "But how many fucking times do you think I've gone through The Tempest by now? Me?" She took a deep breath, and in a soft, melancholy voice intoned: "'The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, the sole drift of my purpose doth extend not a frown further.'"

Emma and I stared at her. She flushed minutely under the attention. "Emma," she murmured. "I was the one who watched you get attacked in that alley. I was the one who planted that stupid fucking survivors/victims mindset in your head. I was the one who thought Taylor looked weak. I was the one who actually shoved her into that locker. I was the one who made you trigger." She looked at me, then back at Emma. "I believe that our mistakes don't define us. I have to, after everything I've done."

"We all do," I said, smiling gently at her before looking at Emma. "We've all done things we regret," I said. "Some of which are so overwhelming that, if we allow them to, they will drown us. But that isn't… it's wrong, Emma. It's not improving anything. There is so much more you can do, if you're truly penitent."

Penitent. The word rang like fire in my head. It certainly wasn't the first time I'd spoken it, but looking at Emma, an idea suddenly popped into my brain, fully formed.

But Emma was shaking her head. "Penitence involves trying to right your wrongs," she said quietly. "I'm not that strong. I don't think I can face what I've done long enough to try to right it."

"You think I didn't think the same, when I first started to realize what I was?" Sophia asked.

"You've always been stronger than me. More driven." Emma smiled sadly at her. "I am sorry, Sophia."

"What if you had help?"

They both turned to look at me. I was staring at Emma.

"What if you had help?" I asked again. "What if you weren't alone on the road to redemption?"

Emma shrank back. "Like—like you two?" Her lips twisted. "I'm sorry, but you two are so wrapped up in all of it. I don't think—"

"Us, but not just us. Fume used to be a villain. One of his teammates may be joining us soon. Genesis and Sundancer used to be villains. There will be more." There would. That was how the Song worked, after all. The theme always came to a close, in the end.

"What, like a support group?" Sophia snorted "Reformed Assholes Anonymous?"

But Emma was studying me, and there was something in her eyes. I felt the tendrils of her power reaching out for me, and I reached out to meet them. I bared myself before Oracle's eyes. "The Penitent," I said quietly. "Supporting one another on the long, painful climb out of the dark and into the light."

I saw them flash before my eyes, Nine glittering Rings of Power, and I knew Emma saw them too by the way her eyes widened.

"Therapy first," I said. "I made that mistake once already. They're a balm, not a cure, and a wound so treated can fester. But the people, the group—that could help. Couldn't it?"

Emma was trembling. "It… I…" She took a deep breath. "It… might. I could… I could try."

"Are you sure about this, Taylor?" Sophia asked, staring at me.

I turned to her, the smile already spreading across my lips. I opened my mouth to speak but Emma cut me off.

"You have to join us," she said.

I stopped. Slowly, my head turned to her. My smile slipped from my face. "Emma—"

"You're on this road, too," she said. "You're leading the troupe on this road. You can't do that if you're standing apart."

"The One Ring was meant to rule," I murmured. "It's not… it's not the penitent type."

"It's a part of you," Emma said, and there was a tenderness in her voice. "You decide what it is. I can see that inside you, now, clear as day. If you're to be the guide to the Penitent, then you need a light to lead by."

I stared at her. I swallowed.

"For what it's worth, Taylor," Sophia interjected, "I think you can do this. I trust you."

I looked at her. I looked at Emma. I looked back at Sophia. And, at long, long last, I recited the completed verse.

"Three Rings for the Sentinels, honest and true.
Seven for the Wards, in their city of sin.
Nine for the Penitent, forged anew.
One for the Ring-Maker, to find light within,
On the shores where the rising Sun shines through.

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to guide them;
One Ring to bring them all from out the Dark which hides them
On the shores where the rising Sun shines through."

End Arc 13: Radiant