Chapter Twelve

"So, who are you and what brought this about?"

The girl didn't flail. Nor did she struggle or writhe in my arms. But she was scared. Her eyes jumped from the door to the mirror. Her body trembled ever so slightly. Her breaths were erratic.

"I am going to remove my hand. You will not attempt to get help." I lowered my chin to imply a pointed look without a visible expression.

Her focus turned to the approximate position of my eyes; she nodded with a stiff jerk.

I released her jaw from my fingers, skin momentarily sticking. Her face was faintly marked with red lines. Likely because of too much strength on my part.

She took in a large amount of air through her lips as though she were deprived of air. Shuddering, she exhaled. "I-I'm Emma. And I w-want you to help me."

Emma… That sounded familiar. She had red hair, was conventionally attractive, and was named Emma.

Oh, it was that girl.

"Uh huh. And why would I 'help' you?"

"Because… because-" The red haired girl was having difficulty answering. Someone clearly didn't think ahead. I held back a sigh.

"Never mind. Let's say, hypothetically, that I decided to help you. What is it that I'd do for you in the first place?"

Knocking the topic back into a familiar ground for the girl, Emma schooled her emotions the best she could. "To make me stronger."

Waiting patiently, I said nothing. The girl inhaled deeply again and her chest cavity expanded with it. Emma's heartbeat began to slow down to a normal tempo.

"I've seen your work, everybody has." Emboldened by my silence, the girl stood straighter. "People have gone on and on about what your power is, or how you'd match up against heroes. It's all so stupid. And unlike them, I noticed what's truly important."

She paused to catch her breath. It wasn't easy making a speech while restrained.

"Both the Pit and the Maddening had tons of powered people show up after the fact. Sof- a friend told me that parahumans come about because of something called Trigger events. You caused a lot of them to happen so easily—with you, I could be strong."

I raised my free hand to massage my forehead, only to remember I was wearing a mask. Opting to rub the back of my head, I worked over her thought process.

"That's an… interesting postulation." I initially believed she was doing this off of a dare or something equally adolescent. It was surprising to be wrong and I certainly welcomed it.

Loosening my grip on the girl, I untangled myself from her. "Are your parents home?"

Emma's mouth hung in bafflement. She tentatively hugged herself as though she wasn't sure what to do next.

"Yeah, but they should be sleeping. Dad's been pulling all-nighters all week and Mom doesn't get up till 7."

Dusting myself off, I slowly turned the door handle. "Then we should have no trouble getting out. It wouldn't hurt to grab some breakfast after all."

— — —

Brockton Bay was okay, all things considered. According to what I remembered, the Boardwalk was one of the nicer places. It was busy with tourists and was clean of most trash.

Out at the bay, you could easily spot the Rig. It sat there like an immovable fortress of steel and heroism; its transparent forcefield gently bending the light that traveled through it.

Turning 180 degrees from the sea would grant the sight of Downtown. Skyscrapers touched the sky like pillars of wealth and density. While not on par with New York, there was a certain populated atmosphere to the city.

The salty air filled my lungs as I guided my newest acquaintance into a sandwich shop. The bells hung on the door rang out.

We sat down at a two seat table and ordered shortly after.

Emma squirmed in her seat as we waited. She bit the inside of her lip, trying and failing to hide her discomfort. Glancing up, she studied my naked face.

Leaning on the table, I rested my chin on my palm. "Something the matter?"

"Uh- no!" The red haired girl scrambled to suppress her embarrassment. "I didn't think you'd unmask. Or that you'd be so…"

Coughing into her hand, Emma muttered 'never mind'.

The conversation died off, allowing me to plunge back into my musings. The girl had brought up some interesting facts earlier. It was previously unknown to me that people were triggering as a result of my actions. Something I should've noticed sooner, but maybe I was too preoccupied.

That wasn't an immediate concern. Dealing with the girl in front of me would have to come first. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with her.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask. Why do you want to be strong?"

She blinked. "Huh?"

Not wanting to repeat myself, I raised my eyebrows. It took the girl a second, but she answered.

"So I… wont be weak." Emma struggled to get the words out. She made an admirable effort to continue. Or maybe she felt threatened by me. Either or.

"Being strong is good. You get it, right? To go around knowing that everyone is beneath you. To have that power over your surroundings. That's why you caused those disasters. To show the world that you can't be messed with anymore."

I had to stop and think. She was making too many assumptions, likely projecting.

Before I could respond, our food arrived. I ordered a sandwich with too much meat and not enough greens. Not that I was concerned about a balanced breakfast. It felt a bit repetitive, as I had a similar meal for lunch on Monday, but I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous today.

"Not sure where you got that conclusion from, but no, that's not the case. Lording my power over others for the sake of intimidation alone is a waste of energy."

The girl's face scrunched together as she parsed my statement. "That's not what I meant- like, when there's someone weaker than you, it's frustrating to see them not push back. If they can't improve, then it's up to us to show them their place."

"Well, by that logic, since most people are weaker than me… Oh, I see where you're getting at. Yeah, I don't take satisfaction out of destroying cities just because no one there can defeat me."

Shaking her head, the girl frowned with a sigh of frustration.

"No, no. You're misunderstanding. I'll- ah!" She cut herself off in surprise, spotting something outside. Standing up, Emma stepped out from the table. "Come on, I'll show you what I mean."

"Wait!" And she was already at the door. I removed my coat and hung it on the seat. Last thing I needed was to be accused of dine and dashing when I hadn't even finished my food yet.

Following her out, I found the red head with her arms crossed and wearing a pleased grin. She was standing in front of another girl, blocking her from moving. The new girl was Caucasian, tall, wore glasses—it became very clear who that was.

"Hey Taylor, fancy seeing you out here." Emma's tone was filled to the brim with sarcastic energy. Impressive, but it came across as childish to my ears.

The now named Taylor pursed her lips. She seemed out of breath and her clothes were vaguely like that of a tracksuit. The runner was going to respond, but I interjected myself into the conversation.

"Emma, I don't have time for your little game. Get back inside before they take away our plates."

Hearing her name for the first time today, the red head's attention was immediately brought to me. Her fists were clenched as she stared defiantly. "But you have to see what I mean! You'll understand, I know it."

Taylor was getting ready to speak up again, but I ignored her. "And I don't care. I forgot to grab dinner last night, so there's no way I'm missing breakfast."

"But-"

"Strong, weak. Continue this, and you won't be anything."

Despite, or perhaps due to my unwavering and level command, the girl finally relented. I didn't drag her in, but I certainly wanted to, leaving Taylor to her own devices.

The rest of lunch was spent in relative silence.

Finishing my meal, I wiped my mouth clean with a napkin. "Alright. Before I go, I want to ask this."

I paused for dramatic effect.

"Does killing ants make you feel good?"

Emma glanced side to side, like she was searching for the trick to my question. "No…?"

"Then I'm sure that you'd say the same thing when it comes to harassing ants. What's the point, after all? But if an ant were to knock on your door and seek assistance, it would make you curious, no?" I stood up and pushed my chair in.

The shop had a bathroom—and likely a mirror as well. "Well, don't take that too literally. I'm just trying to get my point across."

I was only a couple steps away from my way out of the city when the girl spoke up once more.

"Wait." I looked over my shoulder. "If I wanted to talk to you again, should I repeat that whole… thing?"

"Ah, no need. Just email me at morganking2021 . Way easier that way."

With that, I stepped through the bathroom and left.

— — —

Walking into the living room, I found three of the seven Travelers in varying degrees of alarm. Sundancer was pacing back and forth; Genesis shivered in her wheelchair with her eyes shut; and Ballistic tapped his fingers against his waist while staring at the ceiling.

Cherie played with her hair, leaning on the doorway. "Hey, Morgan. We have a small problem."