Silens Umbra

Chapter Co-Authored by Bms111

— O —

2–3–11, Thur. PRTHQ, Colin's Lab. Afternoon.

I woke up to the muffled sounds of two voices, one of them clipped and snappish, and the other one softer, with an electronical undercurrent to it. Colin and Dragon? What were they talking about?

It was barely a week since I told Dragon about Sophia, but that hasn't lessened my apathy for the Wards, as much as she and Colin reassured me that he and Dragon were investigating. I honestly spent the majority of my time reading, or sleeping when I didn't feel particularly good, even if my sleep schedule was a complete disaster and the act itself didn't recharge me as it should – I almost always woke up with barely any energy left.

I groaned and rolled around, my hammock following me and attaching itself to new handholds almost as an afterthought and without my input. I stopped just above Colin, not bothering to look at what he had been doing. I was tired even after turning in early and waking up late, my stomach was kicking me in the abdomen, demanding food, and I was generally feeling extremely miserable after sleeping. I really, really didn't want to deal with anything today.

"No, I don't think the Director will. Not until…'' At that, Colin looked at me, and I could see some of his muscles untensing, even if he still seemed pretty highly strung up. "Hello Taylor," chirped Dragon, and I couldn't help but wince at her volume. She seemed to notice and brought it down a notch or two. "How did you sleep?"

I smacked my lips, my mouth dry and my head slightly pounding behind my eyes. I did not want to have to talk so soon after waking up, when my brain still felt as if each thought was moving through specially thick honey. "Bad," I entoned. "Hungry…"

"I didn't mean to wake you," told me Colin, this time turning around and craning his neck upwards. I lowered myself so he didn't catch a crick on his neck or something, and so he could talk to me without raising his voice, my brain pulsing with a weak throb at each sound even slightly higher than my current tolerable threshold – which at the moment was anything louder than 'deafening silence'. I was still a boneless mass of exhaustion, so the only thing I did was maintain eye contact. "But," he hesitated, "the Director has ordered that you go through power testing, and…" he fell silent, as did I.

She wasn't going to do anything about Sophia, was she? I… I didn't want to think about it, like I didn't want to think about the bl ood in my cl aw –

I shut my eyes, shoving down the memory into a tiny little corner labelled 'never, ever' and promptly tried extremely hard to forget about it. I'll probably deal with it… later, when I'm better. I didn't need, didn't want to break down in front of Colin. I would have plenty of time to do that once I was alone. The thought of crying in front of him bothered me for some reason. I didn't like it.

"The director," I muttered. "Sophia. Won't do anything about her, huh?"

Colin ground his teeth subtly, then closed his eyes, and exhaled. Frustrated, I'd say. Extremely so. "Yes, she will, but she is… being difficult about it. I think that going through power testing will smooth things somewhat, if slightly." He stopped, his tone acquired a more clipped quality. "She also 'recommended' more social contact with your fellow Wards–"

I couldn't help the hiss that escaped me, from my own body and my power alike. Even if it was short lived due to clamping down on the reaction as quickly as I could, I still felt some of the handlebars I was perched on rattle slightly.

Colin frowned, but I could tell it wasn't being directed at me. "That's what I thought." He exhaled, then turned towards Dragon. He seemed conflicted, shifting weight from foot to foot, until Dragon smiled at him, then at me.

"Don't worry, I will be keeping an eye," blared out of the speakers, Dragon's voice booming softly from all around the workshop.

I wanted to protest and say that I didn't need a minder or someone to watch me over, but, if I was being honest, it felt… nice, having someone looking for me. It was conflicting. I didn't like it, nor dealing with it, much less just after waking up, so I didn't.

Colin passed me and grabbed only his helmet, leaving basically the entirety of his armor behind in one of the biggest racks. He motioned at me and approached the door, already inputting the code.

Oh. Right, the door. I would have to walk again, now that was early in the afternoon and everyone was out and about. I, well, I didn't like it. Hanging around the ceiling gave me a position to observe everything from a distance – a layer of separation, of security. Being bound again to only the floor didn't appeal to me in the slightest, and if I had to be sincere, it scared me. I didn't want to meet people at the same level, not again. I was tall among my peers for my age, sure. But the only good that ever did for me was make me a bigger target, easier to find.

We both advanced strangely unimpeded towards what I knew was the cafeteria, my midnight escapades making the path to it felt well traveled. But, now there was a strangeness to it that unsettled me. Every time I had taken these same hallways it had been in the complete silence of the deep night or very early morning, never in the afternoon, never with so much light.

Then, I knew what was unsettling me. It was the noise. The hustle and bustle of human bodies moving around there and that way, the muffled roar of a cacophony of voices that made itself known more blatantly with each step of my bare feet on cold linoleum. I propped myself up on my power, vantablack material hugging my form while arms of the same material elevated me, even if only by a foot and change, the tik tip tik tip tap of my power's clawed appendages creating a known rhythm that eased my anxiety, if slightly. I was really starting to hate the floor and the feeling of vulnerability it infected me with.

Colin noticed when I stopped a couple of steps behind him, no longer hearing the sharp taps of my power on the floor. He turned towards me, mouth opened, and promptly closed when he saw me looking at the entrance of the cafeteria, only acknowledging him with a flick of my eyes.

Something must have shown in my expression, because his face softened. He looked at me in silence for a moment longer, and I was starting to worry that I would have to get inside that room regardless of what I wanted.

"Do you want me to get you something?"

My head snapped towards him, and I slowly nodded, my attention still not leaving the door. "Whatever, I– I mean, whatever, get anything. Just," I backed off slowly from the door, searching from places where I could cocoon myself. There were none. "Please." My voice was softer than I would've liked.

He didn't waste time chatting for which I was grateful, and opened the door, quickly slipping inside. I still flinched when the wall of noise hit me, even if indirectly, my arms and back bristling with spikes of hardened bone, breaching the sea of black that was my power and staying there, the collar that had formed when I had had my first discussion with Dragon a week ago reforming anew, like a cursed facemask.

"Taylor?" I heard from behind me, the tiny ripples of a propulsed drone, as silent as it was, reaching my skin and making it tingle. I turned around, still held aloft by my power, no thought whatsoever of coming back down crossing my mind. There was a small drone, almost half the size of my head floating behind me, a small screen that held Dragon's form facing me. "Are you okay?" She asked softly.

I tried to get the bones back inside me, to stop bristling in the face of so much noise, but I couldn't, the only thing I accomplished was making them recede for half a second before they surfaced once again, this time even longer than before. "I'm, no, no I'm," a deep breath. "Noise. Hate it." I flinched harder when I saw someone open the door, and relaxed slightly when I saw that it was Colin, holding a paper bag and a bottle of water. He paused when he noticed how tense I was, my teeth moving this way and that, small mouths forming and vanishing slowly with little click clacks, then he continued walking, this time definitely faster than before.

I started following him out of pure reflex, my hands tip tapping across the floor. I felt like a particularly skittish spider. It was Dragon the one that explained, her drone moving ahead of me and keeping pace without a problem. "The power testing facility is empty right now. You can eat in peace there."

Oh, that made me relax a bit more, the bone receding a couple of inches into my ski– power, my power. That I had to remind myself… should have unsettled me, but it didn't. Another thing to think about, later. Later sounded good.

We made it into the second to last underground floor on stairs alone, and then we turned around, and I was faced with– "No." The word fled my lips before I could have a say in it, more pouring forwards. "I'm– I'm not. Not going there. No. No." I pointed a shaky finger towards the elevator, once again its opened doors resembled more jaws than simple metal to me.

Colin grimaced, sucking in air between his teeth as if in surprise, and Dragon frowned, alternating to look between me and the steel deathtrap.

"Isn't, that, shouldn't there be another entrance?"

"Yes… yes there should be. Give me a moment."

Colin did something with his helmet, and I couldn't help but have my eyes glued to the thing in front of me, only looking away when Colin snapped his fingers. "Yes, there is another entrance at the other side of the building, no elevator. I'm… sorry for forgetting, Taylor." He sounded genuinely apologetic, and that was a far, far cry from his usual neutral tone.

"I, just, let's just go. I don't–" I didn't finish my phrase, just pointedly looked at the thing that I swore was just waiting for a moment to drag me in and suffocate and pressure and grindpastescrubb loodbug–

I felt a hand set itself gently onto my face, covering my eyes but without touching my face, hovering just at enough distance to cover my view and snapping me out of my downward spiral, another hand gently setting itself on my shoulder and turning me around, the hand at my eyes leaving then. It had felt… strange, calloused and worn but with layers of skin perfectly placed that spoke of repeated work. Colin was looking at me, his helmet beneath his arm. He kept his distance but wasn't distant, still at arms reach but not invasive. My breath was still coming down from its windup when I felt that I had enough air to talk to him and not pass out. "Thank, thank you. I," I fell silent, significantly more drained than when I woke up. I was ready to end the day and it almost hasn't even started.

He nodded, and started walking once again.

The rest of the way was accompanied by only the sound of Dragon's drone and the tip tik tip I made when I properly walked, the skittering sound already familiar enough to calm me.

We were coming out of a set of stairs into what felt like one massive room when Colin started talking almost absentmindedly. "I already requested a pair of transfers from outside the Bay. I felt the need to tell you because your reaction back there was… concerning." He turned to look at me, "I want you to, at least, try to get to know them. They're both good kids from what I heard, and I'll keep an eye out for the other Wards and Aegis."

The manner in which he said the last name, clipped and short, made me think that he had done something to truly piss off Colin. What, I didn't know, but I didn't care much. I had my own problems.

Colin gave me the paper bag, and inside I found a pair of wrapped chicken sandwiches that didn't last all that long, gone in what felt like the blink of an eye. The bottle of water felt a somewhat similar fate, and in no time I was standing in the middle of a painted circle in the floor, what looked like a strange machine similar to a boxing robot in front of me.

We – well, I – proceeded to run through a battery of mostly boring tests. Grip strength, punch strength, blocking limit, how much I could stretch my limbs, how flexible they were, if their strength varied if stretched, durability of my bones – Colin actually denied that to some of the technicians that had gotten here while I ate, their distance and general feel of not being overly interested in chatting with me helping me keep social anxiety at bay.

The techs introduced themselves. Words were said. I paid attention. Sort of. They were like the Director, they just kept talking.

"Alright," one of them said, "we know you have a Mover rating, so we're going to test that." Various panels slid out of the ceiling and walls, giving me support points from where I could jump from one another. I felt a small smile forming on my face, as this promised more fun.

"When you hear the sound, complete the circuit as quickly as possible."

I felt my power slid around me and cover me completely leaving nothing but my eyes exposed to the world. "Woah, that's new," I heard one of the technicians, and most of them started to scramble around their notes.

"How did you do that?" Asked another.

"I, just, I wanted to go fast, and…" I gestured to myself, shrugging. I flexed a little, and felt various arms grow out of my back, helping me keep balance and move around without touching the floor.

"Well, it just seems like some kind of protection, so it should be fine, we'll poke at it later." At that, Colin glared at the technician, who murmured something, then pressed a button.

The lights flashed, once, twice, thrice, and then the alarm sounded, low pitched and loud and deep to a point that was almost painful, and I couldn't help but stagger the first step, my arms covering my ears, even if they were already seemingly protected with my second skin. I shook my head, and jumped towards the first platform, the second jump coming easier now, the third I managed to adjust my posture slightly, catapulting easier. Then the next, and the next, and the next, the jumping and adjusting becoming second nature by the time I landed once again on the padded floor.

"Mmh, forty seconds, I'd say that that's a… mover three? Maybe two. Slow, but it's something…" he continued to ramble and talk, and I felt a spark of anger, of wounded… something, in my chest.

"Again," I snapped, more to my own surprise than anything else. He looked up from his glasses, and I caught a raised eyebrow.

"Well, if you think you can do better…"

The dismissal in his tone made that spark burn, and I had to suppress a hiss.

The lights flashed again, and I completed the circuit once more, having anticipated the blaring horn and jumped just in time. I finished faster than before, but I wasn't satisfied, not at all.

"Well, that's a minor improvem–"

"Again!"

He looked up once again, his brow furrowed into a frown. "Now, we don't have all day–"

This time I did hiss at him, loud and sharp. It made everyone but Colin flinch. " Again."

He obliged, and I completed it much faster this time. I still wasn't satisfied. I wanted to go faster, to be better, to… I don't know. The ember inside of me sparked and crackled and demanded release, so I did the circuit again, and again, my results stalling at the last attempt.

The spark turned into an inferno of wounded pride and heat, and I felt… something, pushing out of my back, spikes of bone that weren't actually teeth, but seemed more like hollowed tubes. I gasped, feeling around the air entering them in massive quantities, and I couldn't help but smile, a thing full of teeth and anticipation.

"Again."

This time I felt the air pushing out of my back, my form blurring between platforms in bursts of concentrated air that impulsed me as if I were a jet, each landfall making the platforms creak and squeal with each step and subsequent impulse, a manic laugh slipping from my parted lips.

I touched down earlier than I anticipated, and the lead technician stammered in my direction. "F-Five seconds"

I grinned, the burning heat in my torso turning from unpleasantly painful to soothingly warm. I liked that feeling.

The guy with the glasses coughed, and spoke loud enough to make himself clear across the distance. "Alright, last test. Can you suppress your power?"

My smile immediately fell. Suppress my power? No, "no, I. I. No. No, I don't, not I'm not." I sucked in a breath. "Don't feel safe."

Some of them hummed and took more notes. "Can you try anyway? We were told to ask," said one. One at the back babbled on something about procedure. "Didn't the Director ask for this?" murmurs another. I wasn't listening in the slightest.

I didn't like it, at all. The thought of leaving myself defenceless, completely bare for the world to attack and do as it pleased sent my breathing quickly growing rapid. I looked at Colin and Dragon for assistance, and I noticed that he had straightened from where he had been sitting, while she got her drone closer. "If you're feeling discomfort of any kind, Taylor, immediately stop and tell me, okay? This isn't something designed to hurt you, just to help you explore this… new part of yourself. Relax, and try. If it doesn't work, nothing happens. It is what it is."

I nodded, still feeling jittery and slightly short of breath, and made the mental effort of pushing back against my arms, my teeth. Some of it sank and disappeared, but not all of it. There were still a couple of appendages, and the facemask made of teeth still hadn't sunk in, as much as I pushed. I kept trying anyway, but as much as I wanted I just couldn't dismiss it like I had that time with Lisa. At that moment I felt… open, secured. Now I didn't, a good dozen-and-change pairs of eyes looking at me directly. My bones tried to break the surface constantly, reacting under the perceived threat, and I could start to feel my temples pulsing in pain the harder and harder I pushed and pushed and pushed .

It all felt wrong and nothing felt right, and it only made the roiling, writhing feeling within my skin even worse, wanting to burst, to break free and protect me and keep me safe safe safe safe-

I had failed the test. Not only did I fail to do what the test asked of me, but I forgot to stop, to tell them, to say something if I didn't feel safe.

And I should have said something. Colin had done nothing but stay with me for the last ten days, attending to my flimsy whim of practically living with him because he had been the only one to show me some kindness apart from Lisa. He had tended to me in the waking days after I lost everything, I, I should have trusted in him – and I do! But, it was hard to remember that I had someone in my corner for the first time in… a lot of time. Dragon, too, had been nothing but accommodating, giving me some of her time, the most important Tinker in the world talking with me, Taylor, an unimportant fifteen year old. It seemed surreal, it should be, but it wasn't.

I felt the darkness all around me, and I wondered for a second who had turned off the lights when I noticed that the darkness wasn't just black, but pure void. I had – oh, those were voices outside… I, when had I cocooned myself? I didn't remember…

Slowly, methodically, my head emerged from my power, taking in the situation as in depth as I could and immediately noticing Colin some three steps away from me. Once again at arms reach, but not distant nor invasive. Dragon's drone was hovering around him, and its camera lens and screen turned in my direction the moment I started to get out.

I, I hadn't wanted to worry them, and now that made something heavy sit on my chest and pull my eyes towards the floor. I shrugged, letting out a lame "...sorry…" that didn't start to convey what I wanted to say, but at least it was something.

Colin exhaled, then nodded. His tone sounded strangely relieved. "It isn't your fault."

Dragon – her drone, in this case – bobbed up and down, smiling at me. The chatter from the technicians didn't even register as anything more than white noise. "We now know at least that you can't force it down if you don't feel safe, which is quite important. But please, Taylor," her tone acquired a soft undercurrent that made guilt pulse in my chest. "Next time talk to us if it's something you don't feel comfortable doing." She seems to think for a moment, before continuing. "One of my closest friends has a similar… condition to you. Are you familiar with Narwhal?"

I nodded after a moment. Tall, forcefield-y, one horn… Dragon smiled at me, wider this time. "Well, I'll try to arrange a meeting between you two, but for the moment I think we're done for the day with testing." She tilted the last word, her drone turning to face Colin, and he nodded. I felt relief flood me. I didn't want to be here anymore, I wanted to be back in my corner, with my ceiling, my books, and Colin working in the background, Dragon chatting his ear off.

I followed them both towards the area where the technicians were still writing notes and muttering to each other, when I caught a line said somewhat louder. It was a more young looking one, lots of smooth skin, no balding… he was looking at a paper while he muttered.

"It's a shame that she wasn't raised to trust authority. How's she supposed to feel safe here?"

I stopped cold, pausing mid stride. I felt myself twitch. Draw a shaky breath.

Colin stepped in front of me, facing outwards. He seemed tense, before another Tech, a few years the senior of the one who had spoken, looked up.

"Simmons." He said.

The younger glanced in his direction. "Hmm? Yeah, 'sup, Frank?"

"Just," the one called 'Frank' sighed and pinched his nose, "just shut the hell up, Simmons."

I resumed walking, hearing the sound of Colin close behind me a few seconds later. My strides were mechanical, tense, snappish. Step, step, step, step. One foot in front of the other. Don't think, don't do anything. Just walk.

Before the doors sealed behind us, I heard a voice speak,

"You couldn't even be bothered to read up on the trigger points of the unstable fucking Brute, Simmons?"

This time around, I was the one leading Colin toward his workshop, the taps of my second skin's fingers restless against the floor, each hand akin to the leg of a spider, long and articulated, at the end of it four fingers skittering around the floor, always tip-tapping. Tip tip tik tap. This time around it wasn't as soothing. I wanted to be back in the workshop, to hang around my little corner and forget everything existed, even if only for a few hours.

Mercifully, the trip was devoid of surprises, and I got to the door first. I punched in today's code – yes, today's – and entered the workshop, immediately jumping towards my spot. Colin followed suit, striding towards the table with unfinished projects, the tension seemingly leaving his shoulders with each step closer to his tools.

…I was tired, exhausted, even, but sleep wouldn't take me into its arms just yet. Which was weird, since I should be able to, and annoying, because I wanted to forget I existed for a few hours. Sleep was just death being shy, after all.

…or so said Mom, a long time ago.

I didn't want to think about it, or about her, or about anything at all, so I lowered myself from the ceiling, and started passing tools to Colin, already familiar enough to know which he would ask. The repetition of handing him things had become rote at this point. A routine, something I was comfortable with and could do almost with my eyes closed.

Tool, tool, piece, tool… my eyes were starting to droop. I grabbed another piece, a small metallic thing, and felt it around. It was imperfect, weird, striated in a way I didn't like. I left it on the table, and grabbed another one that felt okay, giving it to Colin.

— C —

I looked on, a strange sense of pulling that I successfully identified as confusion tugging at my chest as Taylor dropped the nearest of the available parts that I asked she provide, and grabbed another copy, running her fingers through it, and passing it to me with a yawn. Her eyes started to droop, and I caught her nodding off. Apparently, this confirmed that routine helped her with sleeping. Notes for later.

She pulled herself to the ceiling, her body still largely limp, her projection cradling her dozing body to the corner of my workshop I had ceded to her. I heard her mutter a half-hearted 'good night', and I found myself answering in kind, even if it wasn't even 4 P.M yet. I knew how much of a mess her sleep schedule was, which grated me even if only slightly, but I let her be. No reason to put more pressure on her unnecessarily.

I pulled to the side the piece she had discarded, curious about it despite myself. "Why do you think she didn't like this one?" I quietly asked my friend of many years, partner in Tinkering and current lifesaver whenever Taylor was concerned.

"I don't know," she spoke just as softly, Taylor's breathing evening out above me, signs that she was starting to get pulled into sleep. She could be quite the heavy sleeper if she wanted to, as a dropped tool due to a sudden bout of clumsiness some days ago had corroborated. "Maybe you should analyze it? I do remember Taylor touching everything she could of the workshop that one time. She seemed… entranced, with whatever she saw."

I hummed, and got up from my seat, intent on putting the offending piece under the microscope even if I was leaving another project half finished. I could always come back, but the curiosity at the moment was stronger.

Keyword, intent, because that was when a doorbell rang alongside my silent alarm, the one that alerted me that someone wanted to see me. From the camera in my helmet, I could already see Ethan outside with a little MP3 in hand, playing said doorbell. I grit my teeth, a flicker of something sharp in my chest, this time harder to catalogue and slot into one little mental box. I hated that.

Dragon opened the door for me, and Ethan strode in as if he owned the place, his mere presence already irritating me to a high enough degree that I could almost feel my cortisol rising on it's own.

"Heya Armsie!"

Dragon, give me patience.

"What, exactly, do you want Assault?" I couldn't help the clipped, snappish tone of my words, even if I modulated them downwards once I saw Taylor stir. She was a heavy sleeper, but she wasn't dead.

"Oh, nothing much you see, I was just organising this little Fish Fry, and I was thinking that you could come. Most of us are going anyway, and it's not like you get oooooutand what is this?" He asked rhetorically, turning towards the corner where he had mounted a small shelf for Taylor's books and little knick knacks she had taken up here and there, like that strange hairband with eyes. Ethan stepped forward and looked upwards, and I could feel my stress levels reaching peaks I didn't know existed, then those previously recently stabilised levels of stress broke once again when Ethan did the worst possible thing, he started talking in a tone that was reminiscent of the old Nat Geo documentaries.

I hated it instantly.

"Here you can see the Protectorate-employed Tinker, holed up in the safety of his lair. To defend himself from perilous dangers such as 'social interaction', he had entered a cohabitation state with the one known as the ' Arthropods Custos'. She keeps annoyances away, and he takes care of her in her stead."

" Ethan," I snapped, more forcefully this time. "Give her spac–"

"Well, he takes care of her probably because he's the only one who could put up with babysitter-slash-warden duty for the crazy chick, twenty hours a day–"

HSSS!

Ethan, you absolute buffoon. She had been sleeping! Colin had to suppress the urge that told him to go get his halberd and tase the living daylights out of the complete idiot he had for a co-worker, who had the audacity to laugh when he noticed that Taylor was hissing at him, angry and cutting and so very much territorial after being awoken all of a sudden by someone she absolutely did not expect to see there in a perceived – and correct, in this case – invasion of her safe place. The worst part of all of it, was the fact that Hannah had chosen exactly that moment to walk in too, hearing only the hiss and Ethan's laughter.

I was grinding my teeth hard enough that I would be surprised if by the end of the day I didn't need replacements. Taylor already was on edge, the power testing and general experiences of the day not helping in the slightest with her mood or disposition towards people, which already was quite poor.

"What is happening here?" Asked Hannah with a frown, eyeing Taylor, a hand on the hip where her power rested in the form of a sidearm. It made me bristle.

"Nothing," I snapped. Then pointedly looked at Ethan, cutting him before he could have more of his own foot for dinner. "Out. Now." I didn't leave room for argument, the vein I could feel pulsing on my neck probably doing more of the talking than I ever could.

Good.

"Jeez man, okay, no need to get like that, I'm leaving, I'm leaving…"

Taylor's stare followed the back of Ethan's neck, fixated to it like a pair of emerald headlights in the starless night that her power resembled. The poor idiot didn't know how close he had come to getting skewed. By me or Taylor, I didn't know.

My gaze slid to Hannah, who still was looking at Taylor. She better had another reason that wasn't a Fish Fry to interrupt both her sleeping and my Tinkering.

"Can you please come down? I need to talk to you." Her tone wasn't cold, but her frown was still fixated there.

" No," she snapped, clearly distressed by the experience of almost getting her corner invaded, some of her free limbs twitching in unison. That wasn't good.

Hannah made the motion to get closer, but I managed to pin her in place with just grabbing her shoulder. Hannah's stare was questioning, but I didn't yield. "Just talk, then leave. I have work to do."

It wasn't even a lie.

I dropped my hand, and Hannah started talking, even if she seemed unhappy for the need to crane her neck upwards, her tone getting sour by the word. She talked about how Taylor had a visit with the PR department scheduled for tomorrow that was obligatory in its nature, along with how she needed to have more contact with the rest of the Wards. Hannah wisely changed topic when Taylor's bones started breaking the surface and stayed there, giving her quite the menacing look, she didn't hiss, but I felt that it had been a close thing. I felt a flicker of something between warm and hot pass through my chest at seeing how Hannah's power reacted to that by escalating slightly. Hannah finished by informing Taylor that she had another meeting with her Youth Guard representative just after her PR meeting, and that she should make sure that she isn't late to either.

Why a trooper couldn't have done this, or sent the info via a message to my system, escaped me completely. Emily, most likely. Some kind of petty power play.

Hannah stopped talking, but then took another breath. "Apart from all of that, I'm going to tell you now and save you the pain of having the PR team tell you this; stop using your power to walk, and stop hissing at people!"

I wanted to scream in frustration. Just for a little moment. A rare occurrence, but one that has been getting more common lately. It wasn't that hard to understand her.

Taylor bristled at that and fanned out, the spines of bone alongside her entire second skin vibrating and getting larger.

"Out." I intoned, tone flat as a board. "You've said your piece already and I'm busy."

Hannah turned to look at me, slightly taken aback, then looked at Taylor, before nodding and turning towards the door.

Finally, finally, silence once again.

For some time, the silence lasted. It shifted, changed from something looming over us both, into something more natural, something that all of them were more accustomed to. Comfortable.

"Taylor?" Sounded the voice of Dragon in a speaker near Taylor's spot, a little screen installed there some days ago flickering to life. "Are you okay?"

Taylor sighed, then flopped over bonelessly, staring at the ceiling merely two feet above her. "No, I'm." She exhaled in frustration, apparently not finding words. I could relate to that. "I don't… them. I don't like. I," she sighed forcefully once again, and fell silent.

"It's okay," I head Dragon say, and I could see Taylor relax a smidgen more.

I approached the microscope anew, breaking the silence once again. "You'll… learn, to live with PR. They are irritating, yes, but…" I fell silent once again, searching for the correct words and their order. "I could – will – teach you some tricks to deal with them."

It was some minutes of complete silence, Taylor still awake and rolling slightly around, Dragon checking on her and the piece of metal Taylor had discarded earlier, and me analyzing said piece. Then, Taylor spoke, slowly and haltingly. Both Dragon and I turned to look at her.

"I don't. Don't, like, uh, talking." She was nervous saying that, even I could see it. She acted like she expected to be berated for the opinion. Her eyes widened a moment later, two large emeralds framed by black. "To them! I don't like talking to them! You're-" she choked on her words. "You're... easier," she mumbled. "Better." Then, she fell silent again, and something tugged at my chest. Another emotion I couldn't identify. Plenty of those, these days.

Dragon smiled once again, bigger than the ones she had given previously. "I – we, understand, Taylor. Don't worry."

I nodded, letting out a hum of agreement and… I do not know. I pressed my lips together, and got back to work.

It was only minutes later that Taylor's breathing evened out once again, out like a light and completely wiped out. A look at Dragon's monitor gave me the reassurance that I needed in the form of a nod. I still spoke softly, careful to not wake her up. "What do you think?"

Dragon hummed, an appreciative look had taken to her face while she read the report of the analysis. "She felt the microfractures with nothing but her touch alone, while half asleep and exhausted. I think this merits a change to her file, and that it clearly explains her aversion to anything but minimal clothing." She scrunched her nose slightly. "I… can't imagine what it has to feel like, to feel every thread individually and all at once like she must."

I grimaced. "I can't picture that being anything but unpleasant at the best of times, and painful at worst."

Dragon shot me a worried look. "You don't think they will try to get her into a costume tomorrow, do you?"

I straightened in my chair, another hot tugging in my torso. "Absolutely not. She already has one integrated with her power, and it's just a matter of actualising her file." Now that I thought about it, what she had beneath her power was, very likely, not tailored to someone of her needs.

Well, I hummed to myself, the budget for the Wards was there for a reason, and I had access to it. Ordering a set of Tinkertech fabric to be made and delivered as soon as possible was absolutely within the bounds of the purpose and means. The budget was rarely touched anyway.

I frowned. Perhaps I should take another look at the rest of the Wards. Search for similar needs.

The thing I couldn't understand was why Dragon was acting so proud of me all of a sudden.