CHAPTER FIVE: One Step Forward


Biological Weapons Storage Facility, Location Undisclosed, 20XX

"Rise 'n shine, mutt!" Shocking cold. Water splashed across my nude body, chained with thick, heavy lengths of Tinkered metal to concrete, a muzzle across my face. "You're going hunting." A lever is pulled, releasing most of the chains. A long pole with a hoop is set around my neck, spikes within tearing at my skin as I'm pulled from the wall. Two guards with large rifles aimed at my head stand behind a third man, the Warden. I'm led from my cell, past the other Weapons. They aren't as useful as me, aren't treated as well. My legs stumble from disuse, and the needles dig dangerously into my throat, leaving marks to join the rest of the scars. "Hurry th' fuck up!" A mild shock runs through my body; I pretend it hurts worse than it does so they don't increase the voltage again.

Down the hall, past the stares of other Mutts. Into the cargo elevator. My chains are reconnected to a bolt on the floor. Up, up the hundred subterranean floors. I'm allowed to move again once the lift stops. More halls, twisting and turning now. Large bay doors mark the facility entrance, their ten tons of weight screeching open before us. Outside, a desert. It's night, but I can see fine. See the armored vehicles, the soldiers making rounds. There's a woman standing in the fenced yard, in front of a larger truck. Black tie, wearing sunglasses, hands behind her back. Utterly emotionless.

"Weapon Platform Fatal Tiger. You are to be deployed to Ellisburg. The convoy will take you to the outer walls, and you are to infiltrate the city, find Nilbog, and kill him. You have four hours from start before an artillery strike is called in. You are acceptable collateral." Without another word, she enters the passenger door to the freighter truck. My handler for the night. The rear door to the truck is raised, and I'm led inside, chained once more. I feel the suspension fight against my weight as I test my bonds.

Ellisburg, then. Goblin Town. I'd overheard how Nilbog was expanding his army once more, creatures more monstrous than myself. But not stronger, no. Nilbog would be bunkered down, likely deep in the cave system beneath the city he'd claimed as his own. I'm to be the needle to lance the boil, the artillery strike to clean up any mess. The truck starts up, and I curl up on the floor, huddling my tail for warmth.


Hours later, I'm released from the truck into predawn light, eyes adjusting quickly to the sight of massive concrete walls studded with watchtowers, spotlights sweeping both sides. On the opposite side is a constant thrum of noise, the baying of a large crowd at a festival. I'm led to an open elevator bolted to the wall, chained once more to the base as it slowly rises up the steep concrete face. Men in fatigues part nervously before me as my handler goes to find whoever's in charge. Again, I'm released from my chains, this time the harness and muzzle are released as well. Soldiers surround me, guns trained on me as I'm led to the edge of the wall to look down on the city below.

It's an orgy of lust and violence. Creatures openly fucking in large groups, occasionally being pulled back by a larger monster to be used, eaten or beaten. Fights are cheered on around fire barrels, off-colored blood staining every available surface. Cooking fires are propped up on corners, with the occasional spit-roast rotating above them holding the leg of some other creature. I could smell the rotting meat, body fluids and excrement from hundreds of feet above. My handler returns, looping her arm around my waist, as high as she can reach. I repress the urge to tear it off; it won't end well for me. "Monsters, huh," she comments, still emotionless. "You'll fit right in, I bet. Probably won't even notice you're here. Sic 'em, girl!" She shoved me off the wall, and I'm left to free-fall into the city.

At first, I was just another part of the chaos. I looked more human than most here, but the violence I waded into the crowds with wasn't unusual to my surroundings. Biting and clawing, ripping off any limb that came too close, shoving my way over the smaller creatures, I was but one more monster indulging in excess. However, eventually I'd killed too many to be ignored, and the determination with which I made my way to the city center made my goal clear. Soon enough, the crowd I'd found myself surrounded with was focused solely on me, the screaming of the crowd reaching a higher pitch of alarm and fury.

Large, quadrupedal lumps of flesh on rooftops spotted me, and spat out lances of bone. I weaved through them, letting the projectiles pin less agile creatures around me, while others shattered against my body. A few found my more tender areas where they lodged deep into me, but the bleeding would staunch soon enough. Insectile fliers swooped overhead, vomiting some toxic mess below them, uncaring as it landed on the unwashed masses surrounding me. The sound and smell of sizzling, burnt flesh was everywhere as the apparently acidic mixture worked its way through the horde. I felt it on my scalp and face, clumps of hair and skin falling away. My right eye went dark, and I felt momentarily unbalanced before unfurling the sensory organs along my spine. Obese, squat manlings darted around me, screaming in pain as their too-long arms streamed behind them. I dropped to my hands and feet for the added mobility and sprinted along, tail whipping through the necks of the nearest enemies. A larger ogre-like monster approaching myself in size went to tackle me to the floor, launching his prodigious mass into the sky. I leapt up to meet him, maw wide open to catch his head between my jaws. I wrenched my body to the side to tear it off, and spat out the foul meat before crushing more of the smaller goblins beneath my feet upon landing, and dashed onward.

For every dozen I killed, another hundred monsters charged into the fray. Two miles into the city, I carved a bloody path to the mouth of a massive hole dug into the ground. The sun had risen higher into the sky, glinting off sweaty flesh, hard chitin and broken glass all around me. I'd been forced to slow down as my own injuries accumulated, outpacing my ability to heal them. Making my way through the never-ending army, I caught sight of massive, four-legged spider-like creatures patrolling the edge of the cavern entrance, each leg larger and thicker than my body. Cannon-like organs attached below their abdomens twisted to point at me, and blasted out a thick white substance with the intensity of a fire hydrant. I was too exhausted to properly dodge, and a large clump of the material caught my leg, instantly adhering it to the ground. Immobilized, I was dogpiled by the horde, creatures both large and small latching onto me to drag me downwards.

More of the white stuff was sprayed liberally across my arms and legs, binding me tightly as I was dragged deeper into the cavern by ogres. The sun was blocked from sight by sweaty bodies, fatty and muscular and gaunt all at once. Deeper into the dark I was dragged until entering a larger ampitheatre, my own blood marking the bath I was taken along. The largest of the ogres threw some of the smaller creatures off of me before positioning himself over my trapped body. I was already nude; there was no defense between he- it was certainly and painfully obviously a he- and I. I knew his intentions, I'd seen plenty of it from the wall. He placed a large hand around my throat, pressing my body into the ground as I writhed to do something, anything to kill this monster or myself. I needn't have worried though, because just then I felt the thrum through the ground of the beginning of the artillery strike. Never had I been so grateful to be acceptable collateral as I was when the first wave of explosions washed over me, boiling the flesh from my bones.


Brockton Bay, February 2011

I shuddered awake, clutching my tail closer to my body as the last memories of the nightmare seeped out of my consciousness. "Good morning, mum," came the quiet chirp my watch. "You had a nightmare. If you'd like to talk about it, I can download a therapy suite." Always helpful, she was. I rolled over to peek at Amy, who was still fast asleep judging by the snores. I'd never told her how badly she snored; that way, I could always tell when she faked sleeping. Frankie blearily blinked up at me with his cyclopean eye from between my cleavage, and I shrugged the cozy slimeball off into my hand.

"No thanks, Sheila," I mumbled back, making my way quietly out of bed and along to the bathroom. Why Gizmo had set the VI to only respond to Sheila, I had no idea. "It wasn't anything new." An understanding hmm answered me. I winced at the clack of my nails on the linoleum as I closed the bathroom door behind me, peeling off my sweat-soaked pajamas. I hopped into the shower, remembering to keep the temperature down after Amy scolded me for wasting all of it for the past few days. You can't even feel the difference any more! she'd said. Maybe I can't, but cold showers just aren't human. Then again, I'd been looking less human every day.

"I've identified multiple developments in your body over the night, would you like a detailed report?" I could feel some additional weight here and there, some subtle changes in how my body moved, but Sheila's reports had a way of helping me come to terms with my body beyond just noticing differences.

"Yes, please," I replied, and a small blue hologram floated above the watch face, a ten-inch representation of my body with certain areas highlighted in red. Mostly internal changes today, then.

"I'll start with the minor developments then, mum. Your height has reached 195 centimetres- that is, six feet four inches. My current models cannot predict your eventual maximum height yet. Your weight is-" I slapped the watch face before it could continue. "-my apologies. Your musculoskeletal system has seen continued improvement. Without testing, best estimates indicate a 150% increase over peak human performance." I'd noticed the hard outline of muscles beneath my skin becoming more defined over the past few days, although I wasn't sure how much of that was actually muscle versus the bone plating I'd been growing. As though following my trail of thought, Sheila continued, "The subdermal armor miss Amelia first noticed has reached 30% total body coverage, concentrated upon your upper torso, forearms, and thighs. Current thickness is 1.5 centimetres, with an average density at 230% that of the human skull. Your tail has reached a length of 80 centimetres, and I've identified a series of bone spurs along the length." I ran a finger along the long, sinuous limb, feeling how it tapered from as thick as my wrist to as slender as a pinkie, and noticed the spurs she'd mentioned. Spaced evenly along the latter half, they laid flat along the skin unless I flexed to raise them, and were sharp enough to cut my finger when pressed against it.

"As you can see, however, the majority of identified developments are internal. Your brain activity continues to rise, and I no longer have any suitable scale to compare it to. Roughly, you may expect an easier time multitasking, reacting to stimuli, and a general increase in mental acuity. So far as scans can tell, you no longer operate on a hormone system, instead operating on a combination of electric impulses and an unidentified thermal regulation system. Current models suggest a massive increase in reaction speed and precision, along with an immunity to a wide variety of drugs and poisons targeting the hormonal system. Furthermore, your cellular structure has continued to evolve into an uncategorized structure of more uniform, undifferentiated cells capable of adapting spontaneously to a wide variety of tasks. While such is outside of my programmed expertise, possible applications include the development of a healing factor and limited shapeshifting. I've identified a natural ability to generate, amplify and direct electric currents and thermal energy as well. While your brain continues to house the vast majority of your nervous system, each individual cell may function as a sort of neuron, totally eliminating any delay between stimulus and response."

That actually sounded pretty great, although I'd probably be flinching a lot if I couldn't get a handle on reacting to every little thing instantaneously. Also... taser cells? It sounded like I had taser cells. I concentrated on my hand for a moment, picturing the energy stored within and between every cell. There! I felt an itch beneath my skin, growing and pulsing along my arm, down every cord of muscle, right up to my brain. It felt like my skin was going to peel off, and there were flashes of blue and red between and along my veins. The thrumming built up and up, before I saw a wide arc of blue leap off my palm- straight up the water pouring down my body, and into the faucet with a loud POP! Immediately, the wall behind the spigot was flash-burned black, and the loud beep-beep-beep of a fire alarm sounded.

"Waaagh!" came the startled, suddenly awake cry of Amy, bolting out of bed with a scream and into the kitchen, presumably for the fire extinguisher. Smoke and steam was wafting through the bathroom from the now-disabled shower, and Frankie stared up at me from the sink counter with a wide, confused eye. I heard Amy run up to the bathroom door before pausing, and the door was torn off its hinges by a cluster of thorny vines. There stood my savior, potted plant in one hand and fire extinguisher in the other, panicked eyes meeting my own embarrassed ones. Her head darted this way and that, looking for whatever blaze threatened our lives, before she caught sight of the blackened wall and my still-sparking blue hand. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Please tell me it's an invisible fire and I wasn't woken up for nothing!" she seethed.

"It's an invisible fire and you weren't woken up for nothing...?" I cautiously replied. That plant was looking dangerous in her hand.

"Actually, miss Amelia, your sister is now an electrokinetic. Unfortunately, she realized this in the presence of running water." Amy and I both glared daggers at my watch, both for different reasons. I begain thudding the traitorous band of metal against the tiled walls. "This is a violation of my warranty-"

Amy depressed the nozzle on the fire extinguisher, spraying my still-soaking body with white foam. "Let me fucking sleep in for once!" she screeched (elegantly, if anybody asked).

Sheila, who lacked the basic human ability to read the mood, piped up, "Actually, miss Amelia, you achieved a full eleven hours of sleep. As a medical device, I'm concerned-" I resumed thudding the watch against the tile from beneath the foam.

Amy had dropped to her knees, pitifully moaning. "Just for once, a peaceful morning! I'll give up my life of crime, change my ways! Just make it stop, God!" Immediately abandoning her newfound faith, she pointed an accusing finger at me. "It's you! You have some insidious Shaker power which curses mornings! You're a toxic influence on this household!"

Sheila, who badly needed a mute function, chirped out, "Actually, miss Amelia, she's venomous, as of this morning! You see, the difference is-" Warranty be damned, I wanted to break this watch now.


My breakfast was cold bacon and untoasted toast with a glass of water, while Amy had made herself blueberry pancakes with whipped cream and orange juice. My stomach rumbled at the beautiful stack of sugary, syrupy goodness. At my heartbroken expression, she viciously muttered, "You're an electrokinetic, Taylor, cook it yourself! Maybe burn the house down while you're at it!" Suffice it to say, I'd woken the wrong villain. The shower and wall repair would be coming out of my share of the Marche's monthly check, and apparently out of my breakfast rations as well. I knew she'd more or less let it go after a cup of coffee, though.

True to fashion, one coffee mug later and Amy was back to business. "Your costume should be ready today. I figure you can pick it up yourself since you know where it is?" I nodded behind my own cup of tea. "Mmh. When you get back, I was thinking we'd have a meeting about what our plan is with you and Lisa. The other gangs won't take our expansion quietly." I'd been wondering what she intended to do about it, but it was good to know Amy had a plan. With over a dozen capes in the Empire and two in the ABB, the Marche occupied a comfortable middle ground in terms of cape power. However, we had far more public support on account of not being racist murderers or sex traffickers. While the Protectorate would likely always win in terms of PR, the Marche wasn't afraid to get dirty protecting our community. We were like an incredibly violent, super-powered neighborhood watch, but with drugs and hookers. Well-paid, protected and willing hookers, mind. While the "heroes" paraded down the city reminding everybody that Nazis were bad, Amy and her followers, both parahuman and mundane, would be the ones to actually demonstrate what happened to racists and bigots in our city. Specifically, they got chicken pox and busted windows.

"Kaiser's going to want some assurance we won't expand our territory as well, and Lung's going to want to know if we found anybody worth fighting. And no, that's not an invitation to give him exactly that. Not yet, at least," she said with a wink. Ever since she gave him E.D. for a month, Lung had stayed clear of the Marche. Not out of fear, but because we didn't fight fair, and thus weren't worth fighting. If he knew about me, the rage dragon would likely hunt me down and imprison me until I was strong enough to be a challenge. "More on that later, though. You aren't ready for a fight, and I need to fix that. I figure Adam will be the most help there; Rachel would never let you use puppies for target practice, and he's the only one of us who can actually keep up with you. Maybe Lisa knows a few tricks, I'll have to ask."

"I might be one of you ne'er-do-wells officially now, but there's no way in hell I'll be kicking puppies any time soon. Adam, though; I can definitely hit Adam," I smirked. Amy hid her giggle behind her cup. "I figured I'd just whack people really hard with that magic stick from Gizmo, really," I admitted. Amy's giggle dropped and she put on her 'serious face'.

"Taylor, you're a Brute. You whack somebody hard enough and they'll be shitting out their own ribs." Oh. Oh god, where's the brain bleach? "Gross-sounding, yeah, but serious. There's only one para healer in the city, and she's with the Empire. People won't just 'get better' when you hurt them. Break a wrist or a rib, sure, but... Sheila, how strong is Taylor right now, exactly?"

"Approximately 150% greater than peak human capability, miss Amelia."

Amy looked thoughtful for a second. "Is that male or female peak?"

"Based off world records, which are predominantly set by males."

She nodded at that, but looked even more concerned, really. "And there you have it. We're getting you training on how not to permanently maim somebody. Thinking more on it, I don't think Adam's the best long-term idea. You're shaping up to be a heavy hitter, you need better training than any of us can give you. I'll put out some feelers for cape help, but in the mean time there's a self-defense studio downtown, not in anybody's territory, either. The owner plays by the rules, and I can negotiate some one-on-one lessons." The way she said it made it clear this was a done deal. Well, I knew better than to argue with the Teen Tyrant. Amy wrote down the address for me.

We finished our meals, and I hugged Amy bye before setting out on my errands.


Hopefully she's in a better mood today, I thought, as I walked up to the door of the Dollhouse. I pulled my scarf higher over the bridge of my nose. Today there was a small crowd of children and their respective guardians crowded around the building, watching Parian's latest skit. She was giving stuffed unicorn rides to the younger girls, while a larger gorilla allowed itself to be used like a swing set. I waved from the back of the crowd, and the doll-girl took a few more pictures with the children before directing the parents to various displays to be helped by other employees before greeting me. "H-hey, uh, Vanguard! If you'll just follow me, please?" She gestured deeper into the store, beyond the prying eyes of shoppers and workers alike. I nodded, and followed her into her private workshop.

On the other side of the door, after closing it, she stopped me, wringing her hands with her head bowed. "About the other day, I, uh, wanted to-"

"Please don't apologize," I interrupted with a raised hand. "I don't expect everybody to agree with my lifestyle, and maybe I was too up-front with it, but-"

"Wait, what?" She reverse-interrupted. "Oh. OH! Oh my god, you think I'm a homophobe?!" I wasn't sure where she was going with this, but... I nodded, my confusion apparent. She raised her hand to cover her mouth, but it was useless in hiding her laugh. "Ahahahaha! Oh God, it probably did look that way, huh? I was worried you hated me, but.." Okay, now I really was confused. "Dude, I'm gay."

Oh. Ohhhhh. "So you..."

"Overreacted at hearing there's a really pretty cape in town who likes women and isn't a Nazi? Yeppp," she popped her p's. "Pretty sure Rune's gay, but not my, or any sane woman's, type. You, on the other hand..." Aaaaand there's my blush.

"Slow down there, doll-girl," as I put my hands up for distance between us. "It takes more than pretty clothes and nice words to get me out of my pants." Even if they're really pretty clothes... The girl deflated a bit before me and clutched her hands closer to her chest, and I felt a bit like I'd just kicked a puppy. "Anyways, ah, costume? I've been really looking forward to seeing your work." She quickly perked back up, and pulled up a heavy-looking plastic case from beneath a table strewn with sketches and fabrics. With a hmmph! of effort, she plopped it down on the table and popped the lid, revealing an absolute masterpiece.

"You didn't have any colors picked out, and really what the fuck who does that, so I took the liberty of choosing them out for you." The little fashionista buried deep inside me cried at the criticism, but I couldn't complain at the results. The ensemble was a mix of deep blues and lighter cloudy grays, with black lace along the hem and burnished silver metal. She'd carried through on her promise of improved footwear, with shiny sabatons built into the shin guards, and there were leather soles with holes cut out for my toes. "The fabric isn't really Tinkertech, despite how the PRT classifies me, but it is well-made and high-quality material, which can probably stop your average knife. The metal, on the other hand, was done by Adamant down south. It's rated for armor-piercing rounds, but I'd personally suggest just not getting shot at, especially since it's not covering any vitals. Also, the fabric needs to be hand-washed!" She passed me a little list with laundry instructions, which came with very handy advice on removing blood and wine stains.

I ran an admiring hand along the fabric, amazed at how soft yet durable it felt beneath my fingers. Parian stood there quietly, waiting for a reaction. "I love it." The words didn't feel adequate at all. "I- really, thank you. It's perfect." I could feel her proud smile from beneath her mask. "Can I try it on?"

"Oh, of course! Here, let me show you to the changing room." I followed her behind a ceiling-high shoe display, and there was a curtained-off small room with a mirror. "Feel free to leave in your costume, I can give you a bag for your other clothes." She stood there patiently.

"Uhm, thanks... Parian?"

"Yes?" Her innocent blink was palpable.

"May I have some privacy?"

"O-oh! Of course!" I tried not to notice her vague disappointment, but it was a losing battle. "I'll be just outside, then."

"And facing the other direction, and not peeking through the curtain?" I pointedly looked at the short, semi-transparent fabric.

"Yes, of course." Her disappointment was almost a physical force at this point. I had to wonder if she did this to all the pretty girls who came in here. I waited until she made good on her word and left the room before getting undressed, as quickly as I could.

Despite my caution, I had no warning before the curtain was once again pulled back in a rush. "Oh-one-last-thing-I-forgot-to... ah..." Parian went cross-eyed as she saw the spined tail poised directly in front of her face. Her eyes followed the bead of clear liquid that formed on one spine in particular as it built up and dripped on the floor. "...your receipt, miss," she said in a quiet voice. As soon as I'd taken the offered slip of paper, she scrambled out of the small room, tripping over the incline into a rack of coats. She scrambled off the floor and careened through the mess of coats as she made her escape.


Parian watched the taller girl with her head bowed, dressed in her new costume which covered her scarlet-red face, quickly walk out of the building and kept her hands bunched up in her lap. As soon as Vanguard had left the building, Parian dropped her head onto the desk with a cry. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She threw her hands atop her head to hide from the world. Nobody else was in the store to see the pathetic display, as she'd closed early. I just had to perv out! I could've died! Oh, but that thrill of danger... Parian pondered her young maiden's heart, still beating quickly at the impromptu encounter. Her mind flashed back to the sight- beautiful, pale skin, smooth as velvet; hips no mannequin could ever be built to imitate; the longest legs she'd ever seen, even if the feet were of questionable design; and then... that deadly limb, poised to penetrate her so very deeply, dumping its fatal load within her willing flesh- "What's wrong with meee!" Her cry went unanswered.


As I left the building, the cry of "What's wrong with meee!" came out behind me. That girl has issues.

I made my way through the sparsely populated section of the Boardwalks around the Dollhouse to the nearest bus stop, where I got some odd looks from people. An older woman with her daughter looked scared, like she wanted to be anywhere else but near me, while others looked excited to see a parahuman in costume right in front of them. I saw a few cellphones being taken out and pointed in my direction, and pretended not to notice. I'd probably be on PHO within the hour, and shipped with Mouse Protector within another hour if I knew the internet at all. A young boy hopped off his father's lap and tottered over to me, pulling on the hem of my skirt.

"Hi!" He chirped up at me, beaming in the guileless way only the very young can. "What's your super power? Can you fly? I wanna fly when I get super powers! Ooh, or, or shoot lightning!" A part of me hurt seeing him so happy over powers. I was just like you, not long ago. If only he knew what he'd have to go through to have his dreams come true. My gaze was drawn to the boy's dad. He was a tall, slender man with a balding head and a kind smile, and I imagined how his son would react to losing him. How he'd sit in silence, waiting for him to move again, for him to say "Gotcha!", to show it was all just a joke, it was all okay. He might sit there for hours.

"Hey, you okay? Are you sad 'cause you can't shoot lightning? I'm sorry!" He frowned up at me, big puppy eyes watering.

"Yeah, sorry, buddy. I just got so jealous!" I sniffed to myself, wondering when I'd started crying, and gave him my best smile. It's not his fault he doesn't know. "Wish I could shoot lightning. Or laser eyes!" He giggled along with me. "But I can't do that. I'm fast and strong, though!"

"Oh, you're a Brute! I wish they'd let Brutes play baseball. That would be soooo cool! Like, like Assault could pitch and then Alexandria would be like shwoooo! Home Run!" The boy pantomimed a big swing, and swung so hard he spun himself off his feet. I shot a smile to his dad, who was still looking at his son like he was the most precious thing in the world, and I couldn't help but agree.

"Ooh, maybe Miss Militia could shoot the ball out of a cannon?" I joked. His eyes lit up in wonder at the image, and I felt my heart lighten, just a little bit.

He and I kept talking, with the boy's father laughing right along with us, up until the bus arrived. I felt vaguely disappointed that he never asked for my autograph. As we both got up to board, the father touched my shoulder.

"Thanks for talking to Tyler, miss," he said with a sad smile. "He really latched onto you like a barnacle, huh?" I chuckled along with him at the apt description. "You look a little like his mother, you know. Same nose, and tall like her." I wasn't sure how to respond to that. "I'm glad you took the time to entertain him. City needs more capes like you. Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Daniel. Daniel Hebert."