Assault was silent. Emily counted her blessings.

Of course, Assault was silent because he couldn't talk, his stifled giggles filling the room as they watched the video playing on the screen.

Part of it had been filmed from across the street, showing a house, normal enough, and then showing screaming men and women, fleeing the house as what looked like animated furniture attacked them.

Then the camera turned down, revealing Hookwolf getting out of a truck, starting at the mess before he transformed and charged into the house. There was crashing, cursing, and then half of a totally destroyed chair went flying out one window…

Before the entire house exploded as Hookwolf went flying back and hit the car, covered in what appeared to be pasta of some kind.

Emily paused the recording. "Although the camera doesn't show Glory Girl leaving, I have been told by Brandish that she returned home in good condition, and is currently grounded for a week." Emily glanced over at one person in particular. "It's odd how we didn't see her leaving the house, although the individual filming could have cut that part out."

Claire Nunez was looking anywhere but at Emily.

"Now," Emily continued. "PHO had several other segments loaded, evidently from some of the Empire's guards who were filming a poker game on the inside when the… event occurred. Who put them on PHO remains unknown, but it's possibly another faction that is seeking to embarrass Hookwolf."

The next several scenes were chaotic, showing men with guns and clubs, some of them trying to attack Glory Girl, some of them trying to fight off the furniture that was attacking them. Assault's snickers got louder at the scene of a tattooed soldier, screaming hysterically as what looked like an overstuffed leather chair attacked him.

"None of these shots however, show when Glory Girl left, or how, as most of the individuals with the cameras quickly found themselves…" The camera suddenly panned up, to see a couch, rearing like a striking snake, a hysterical scream cutting off abruptly along with the video. "…otherwise occupied."

"So, tinker or shaker?" Dauntless asked, ignoring Assault. "A tinker would have needed time to get in there first…"

"Not always," Armsmaster said from his screen. "Remote drones could have been infiltrated into the house first. Did Glory Girl state if she had made contact with a Tinker?"

"No. According to her, she was on patrol and "just happened" across the house when the event occurred." Emily once again glanced at Jim and Claire. "She had been off to meet with Trollhunter and Shadowdancer, but they… missed each other."

"And then there's the Undersiders' involvement." Miss Militia said. "Unless we want to believe that they were telling the truth about 'someone asking them to take in the animals'."

Emily snorted. The Undersiders had rolled up to several of the Bay's humane centers and handed out dogs and cats, most of them missing pets. It had been worth a five minute segment on the news, and a spate of comments about how they really weren't that bad, maybe even misguided vigilantes.

Probably because Tattletale had arranged, without Hellhound in tow, to show up with Grue at a shelter that was just opening for the day and had a school tour group waiting.

Velocity shrugged. "Sure, they probably had ulterior motives, but honestly, 'not liking people's pets being torn to shreds' isn't exactly a belief that is real rare, especially given one of their members."

"Agreed," Emily said. "In the aftermath of having to surrender Rune, I do not believe the Empire will strike back for this, so long as our unknown parahumans refrain," she let her eyes sweep out over the audience, pausing at Jim and Claire, "from further demonstrations."

Jim twiddled his thumbs.

"A lot of E88 members, especially the 'upper class' ones," Battery made finger quotes, "don't like dog fighting, so I can't imagine they're overly upset at this."

"Agreed," Emily said. The E88 was an umbrella organization for racists of every stripe and Hookwolf's gang often antagonized the more 'civilized' groups. As far as Emily was concerned, they could all die in a fire.

"So, our objectives are to speak to any unknown parahumans who might have been involved in this, while also providing assistance in continuing to suppress Hookwolf's operations." She shrugged. "We took something of a PR hit here for missing the house, but it's not unrecoverable, and we can work it to our advantage."

Finally, Emily glanced over at the screen Armsmaster was looking out of. "And how is the project progressing?"

"Merlin has successfully disrupted several Grey Boy bubbles." There was a sudden silence in the room, even Assault growing serious. "We're working on various ways to disrupt the memories of the recovered to assist with their trauma, including hiring Cranial. Merlin believes that his… magic, can be modified so that I can duplicate its effects. His assistance has been invaluable, his bedside manner…" Armsmaster sighed and a recording sounded.

"Yes, yes, you've been freed, kindly cease blubbering, young lady."

"Can use some work," the hero finished.

And when Armsmaster says that… Emily shook her head. It didn't matter. Jackass or saint, Merlin was now one of the most valuable capes around for that ability alone, easily valuable enough to indulge his quirks.

"If Merlin is correct, we should have a mechanism finished in the next few weeks, whereupon we can return to the Bay."

"And we will look forward to that." Emily looked around. "Now, dismissed and—" Assault raised his hand. "No."

"But—"

"Assault, you can view the Benny Hill cut of the house video in your free time. Dismissed. Shadowdancer, Trollhunter, Velocity, I'd like to speak to you after the meeting."

Oh, boy, Jim thought. The original plan had been to stay quiet, and nobody would have known.

But he hadn't expected everything to blow up, including the house, and then have a video appear on PHO. None of them had even had a camera!

And the way Director Piggot had looked at them… She knows. Jim took a breath. He remembered Blinky's wisdom.

"Some Trolls, Master Jim can smell fear. So be brave and let the fear not touch your face."

"Will that help, Blinky?"

"No, but you won't look as bad at the funeral."

As everyone else filed out, Director Piggot looked down at her paperwork. "I see that you are now rated as a Tinker 5, Shadowdancer."

"I-yes," Claire said.

"With a note that your specialty appears to be very flexible and linked with your other powers."

"Yes, Director."

"That will be very useful, but remember to be wise in how you use it," Director Piggot said as she consulted her papers. She looked up at the three. "But I find that I need your help. We have some new PRT troopers that have yet to undergo their training for Master/Stranger screening. I was thinking that you two could help me."

She's not talking about this—"Yes!" Jim said.

"Excellent. Velocity can explain things to you on the way to the test chambers."

That wasn't so bad.

"It shouldn't take more than four hours."

Okay, I take that back.

On the way to the cells, Velocity glanced at Jim and Claire. "When I was in the service, we ran into a problem. Someone did something screamingly wrong, at least officially. But it was for a good reason and most importantly it played out well. But the brass can't let on that they know, and most importantly, the people who did it can't ever tell anyone else who weren't there what they did. Not their friends, not their coworkers. Because if the brass hears about it in a way they can't ignore unless it comes from oh, some criminals whose claims could be discounted, they'd have to take action."

Jim gulped. Message received.

"But there's another problem." Velocity continued. "Even if it played out well, you don't want it to become something you do casually, so the brass has to come up with an unofficial… not punishment, but way to ensure that if something comes up again, you pause a moment and think, 'is it really that important?' 'Is it really worth what might happen?'"

"I understand," Claire said. Jim nodded.

"Good!" Velocity said. "I always like telling stories that have nothing to do with what is going on here." He gestured to the two doors on each side, with a group of PRT troopers waiting. "Now, you're both playing the role of heroes who may have been Mastered, so they'll be running the entire run of non-invasive tests. It'll be… interesting."

And a few moments later, Jim found himself in a cell, a screen facing him. Well, at least I'll get to talk to someone—

"Beginning Training Exercise 01." The voice was computer-generated, all emotion leeched from it. "Please state your name."

"James Lake, Jr." There was a pause.

"Stress indicators within nominal levels. Please state a false name."

"Um… Steve Palchuck."

As the boring, boring drill continued, Jim thought about what Velocity had said, about whether or not it was worth it.

The Samoyed had once had two ears. Now one was gone entirely torn off, the white fur matted with clotted blood and pus. When Jim reached in to lift the cage, it attacked, snarling as it tried to bite through his finger.

It didn't even dent his skin.

"Hey guy, it's okay," Jim said in a soft voice. The dog did nothing for a moment, before a shudder went through its body and with a soft whine, it released Jim's finger, sniffing and then licking it.

Worth it?

Yeah. Totally.

"We've got to fucking strike back!"

"At who, Brad?" Max asked.

"The fucking Undersiders and Glory Bitch!"

"You mean the gang that were given the animals, and the member of New Wave?" Max raised his eyebrows. "We've dodged a bullet with Rune, I don't feel like running into another one."

"Nobody gives a shit about the Undersiders."

Max shook his head, and touched the remote, showing a van driving up to the central animal shelter, Grue and Tattletale leaping out and dropping off cages for the stunned workers, to the actual applause and cheers of some of the students.

"Maybe not next week, but this week, they're darlings." He looked at Brad. "And not a single power used, other than Glory Girl's, is one we know of. The closest anyone can come to animating furniture is Parian and she couldn't have done this, and we know where she was."

"So we're just going to let it go?"

"Unless the cape hits us again? For now, yes. They have the PR high ground, and we don't know how powerful they are."

"Fuck." Brad glared, tossed back his brandy. "I need a way to blood the fighters."

"Very well, but Brad?"

"What?"

"This could easily become the kind of cause that the sheep get around—I want you to restrict your… gathering activities to feral animals right now. They're far less photogenic and you can always say they'd be put down anyway."

"Shit," Brad shook his had. "Fine. Also, I'm going to kill whoever it was that put the cell phone footage online."

"I have Victor looking into it." With that, Max dismissed Brad, the big man swearing under his breath as he walked out.

Victor will be happy about Brad's setback. Victor loved to bring up Hitler's animal rights record, and the one time Brad had invited him and Othala to a fight, they'd left early, Othala turning positively green at the sight.

And they aren't the only ones. Still, he needed to keep Brad in line, and Brad's thugs enjoyed their hobbies. But that didn't mean he couldn't tweak him, now and then, remind him that he wasn't independent of the Empire.

Max turned the monitor on and clicked the forum link.

"My, a dub of the 1812 overture? Much more dignified then Benny Hill." he smiled and opened the file. "A pity Victor will never be able to find out who obtained that footage." He chuckled. "A pity indeed…"

So we come to an end of the Lighthearted Trollhunters style arc.

Now it's time for some Worm...