It was always just a little bit of a visceral gut punch to see Contessa outside of Cauldron's base. Intellectually, Alexandria knew that was completely absurd, since Contessa was rarely there in the first place, and was probably only present for the meeting, just like Alexandria. It was just that usually, her efforts with the larger world meant that her operations and Alexandria's rarely interacted.
As it was, Alexandria did not expect to see Contessa here, and that was foreboding. She turned, floating in place, acknowledging Contessa in a simple motion, a nod of her head. Hero, encased in his golden armor, that made him look so much like a mechanical Scion, turned as well.
A grin of surprise flickered over his face for a moment. Not a true smile of greeting, but more of the smile someone makes when they spot another person that they know in a crowded venue.
Contessa did not return the smile, her expression looked carved of stone, not a single iota of her hair shifted in the noon breeze. Alexandria wondered to herself, whether it was she that emulated Contessa or Contessa that saw fit to imitate her?
Hero's grin of familiarity faded away into a grim grimace as Contessa made her way toward him. The only other cape within the interior of the perimeter gazed forward, not even noticing her, her heels, her steps, falling at exactly the right time to match his thundering pulse.
Contessa gave a rote smile, one of a select number, Alexandria noted, this one she had seen twice before. It was a comforting smile, it would be comforting if Alexandria hadn't that exact smile before. As it was, it was just uncanny. Like looking at an alien. Contessa was running a path, and that, over anything else, made Alexandria uncomfortable.
Their quarry wasn't even supposed to be that dangerous, certainly not enough to justify all four of the most powerful capes in the world, bar Scion. Even then, Scion wasn't really a cape, was he?
It was overkill, and Alexandria had said so herself, but the brute had proven exceptionally elusive. Their usual methods of surveillance and destruction had failed. If Alexandria was more suspicious she would even deign to believe that the brute had insider knowledge of how they operated. Still, the brute's continued elusiveness and brutality had ensured that they were called in. This was supposed to be a routine operation. Go in, subdue or remove, and then back to business.
Contessa was the wrench in all that, if she was there, it was way more serious, way more important. Contessa's fingers made a little gesture, and Hero frowned, his brow furrowing. He clicked a device on his belt, and a shimmering golden shield appeared. Contessa's lips moved, but Alexandria could not hear her. She turned her attention away, back to the perimeter.
Eidolon and Legend were supposed to be leading the brute right into their trap, the hammer to their anvil. It was a solid plan, one that they had used before when faced with some truly abhorrent characters. Her durability was unmatched, it would be child's play to pin the brute they were hunting down.
She heard the moment the barrier was dropped, and she half turned her head, looking back as Contessas stepped away from Hero, who was ashen-faced.
"You sure?" He asked Contessa.
Contessa half-cocked her head, as if in question, before answering, "Absolutely. It needs to be done."
Hero frowned, Alexandria spared just a moment to watch Hero. To watch his pale pallor and the sweat upon his brow. In that instant, she realized that she had never seen Hero rattled ever before.
"I guess this is the day I live up to my namesake?" He said suddenly, more to himself than to her, but all the while looking up at her where she floated semi-serenely.
The cape in front of her half-turned, hand flying toward her ear, even as a garbled message cut through the silence. They had a half-second and then a black and white blur was within their group. Blood sloughed off a humanoid form like rain over a windshield.
There was a face, locked in a rictus of rage, and all Alexandria could think was that she recognized that face. It was William Manton's daughter, but she was dead.
The cape in front of her moved forward, red panes of energy forming out of the air, they sputtered and hissed as the brute went right through the cutting blades as if they were so much air.
Where were Legend and Eidolon? Why hadn't they called ahead?
Alexandria didn't even spare a nano-second longer to let those thoughts whirr around inside her head. Instead, she leaped forward, the air cracking from her passage. Her hands stretched out to grab what the news had taken to calling the Siberian, and hold her down. Already she was thinking of the next step, she would need to get back in touch with Manton, let him know his daughter was still alive…
Pain. Her fingers closed around iron-strong arms. It was as if, she was a child again faced with a schoolyard bully two years above her, she didn't have the strength. Her, the strongest woman in the entire world, did not possess enough strength. It wasn't even a contest, her fingers slid over black and white, the hold broken effortlessly. It wasn't even a technique that broke it, just sheer brute strength.
Alexandria knew at that moment she had made a mistake. She had spent so long as the apex predator. So long as the pinnacle, that she had failed to account for the idea that one day someone would come around that could beat her. Sure, she had paid attention and even lip service to the theory that all parahumans operated under a rock-paper-scissors world. However, for some reason, she had held onto the belief that somehow she and the other successes Cauldron made were different. That destiny had desired for them to be the greatest there ever was.
In some ways, in a poetic way, it was her own perfect technique that broke. If she had been less rigid, less exact she could've pulled back. Not committed entirely to the grapple. But she hadn't instead she had acted with exact precision, just like she always had, ever since she gained this new genesis.
For all her speed, she was not fast enough to stop what followed. Power effects broke around the two of them like rain, red blades, golden energy, twining vines, all was naught to their bodies. She could stare, for one glacial moment into the eyes of William Manton's daughter, marked in black and white. For the first time in her second life, Alexandria froze. Then in one impossibly quick moment, black and white monochrome fingers filled her vision.
Then she knew pain. Her vision went dark and she could feel fingers inside her skull, sliding against the impossibly dense gristle that had just been her eye. This was a true pain, not the deadened nerve stimuli that she had suffered under for so long. It was like the pain from her life before, as she lay wracked with spasms and consumed by agony so long ago.
At that moment, she wasn't Alexandria, instead, she was Rebecca. A scared little girl, gasping for any chance to escape a world of pain. With her good eye, stretched wide in panic, she could see the grinning leer as the Siberian held her fast with one hand while the other lifted a mass of red to a grin of black and white teeth.
Then Hero was there, golden energy breaking around them both. A crackling golden blade, a hazy energy mist obscuring it bit into the Siberian's side, for just a moment the Siberian jolted and then turned. Hero struck again, the blade disintegrating on contact with the Siberian. Manton's daughter might have hissed, or maybe it was just air escaping from in between Alexandria's own lips.
Alexandria smashed into the ground, the Siberian releasing her, and Alexandria realized that she was flailing like a mad animal, a keening noise of pain coming from her throat. The Siberian turned and bisected Hero in one smooth motion. Force-fields, tinker-tech ceramic and metal alloy failed alike with a shriek. She could spot just a moment of green, Hero's eyes locked on hers, at the acceptance in those eyes.
The Siberian's hand entered on its upwards strike right below Hero's groin, curving a path of annihilation straight up, right through his torso to exit his shoulder blade, right alongside his neck. Hero blinked, his lips curved into a reassuring half-smile, a bead of sweat along his brow and then he died.
There was a flash of green, she could hear someone screaming. Never before had she lost such control over her own body, let her emotions consume her to such an extent.
Eidolon was by her side as the green faded, they were away from the Siberian. Blue sky overhead and red blood upon the ground. A park, the town's only park.
Eidolon kneeled over Hero's body, a half frenzied mantra spilling from his lips, "A healing power, please! A healing power, damn you!"
Hero was dead.
"Alexandria could still hear his last words, echoing in her head forevermore, "This is the day I live up to my namesake?"
That was right. Hero had died for Alexandria.
That had been then. Long ago in the twilight of her youth. In the here and now, she had walked through death and winter. Hell and high water.
"Here's a coat," Dresden said, tossing her a leather overcoat with a red paint stain down the back. She cast a skeptical frown over it, and Dresden grinned, amused, "All I got, Lexy."
She snapped it open and slipped it on, sparing a moment to fasten the buttons. She ignored the fact that Dresden had to wrench his gaze away as the illusion, the veil, finally failed, dissipating into motes of dust.
She felt melancholy all of a sudden and couldn't quite pinpoint why.
"Hey," A voice spoke from the hallway, a man dressed in a suit standing in the doorway of the consulting firm, "Hey, Lady, you all right?"
"I am perfectly fine," she said and it was even true.
Alexandria's gaze swiveled toward his as she floated into the hallway. The overcoat was a little long on her. If she tried to walk, its back would brush the ground. As it was she was forced to float. As it was, she was sure she looked like a beryozka dancer, floating while walking, even if she was actually floating.
The consultant took one look at the hallway, at her, at Dresden following behind her, the ruined door, and snorted. He turned around, shaking his head and closed his door behind him.
"Ah," Dresden said, "The elevator is kind of finicky, we should take the stairs."
He nodded to himself, continuing to speak "Yes, the stairs are a great idea, we should take them."
Alexandria raised an eyebrow, "I'm aware the elevator is under repair, how do you think I got up here, flying?"
Of course, left out was the fact she totally would've done that if she knew where his office actually was.