Claire frowned as she looked at the letter Taylor had written. She was in a bad mood, given that Jim was at the hospital, giving interviews. He was a lot less nervous with the press when she was there… which was why Armsmaster had suggested she not be there.

"Interacting with the press is a duty of all Protectorate capes," the man had told her, and even though Jim wasn't… not completely, part of the Protectorate, he was getting the treatment.

It's Piggot. She's taking revenge for all the extra paperwork. Or maybe it's Merlin, using her to piss me off.

And it's working.

"Little Death…" Claire frowned. "And Great Death that drives it away…"

"Little Death is another term for orgasm," Taylor said. "But I doubt that's what he meant."

"Yeah." Claire had an itchy sensation, that something very important was being said. "Crazy Cape?"

"I…" Taylor looked to the side, her face uncomfortable, which when translated from Taylor-look meant "I'm having a meltdown". "I don't know. He felt different. Could he be another being from your world?"

"He didn't say he was…" Claire stared at the paper. "The skies are silent. All those dreams, those billion, billion worlds are dead and gone. Something came for 'em, plucked 'em from the vine, and now the otherworld is thin and quiet. Before the hole opened between our realms, it was all I could do to manifest a whisper…"

A cold wind softly blew off the bay. Claire pulled her jacket close to her. "I…" She fell silent. "I don't know."

"How would a Loa know about other worlds?"

"Crazy cape like Myriddian?"

"Trollhunter!" Claire glanced up at the TV playing on the diner's patio. "The fact that the Asian population has another criminal cape, so soon after Lung, do you think that reflects on the Protectorate's effectiveness?"

Jim looked down, took a deep breath. "No." He shook his head. "First of all, Onna-Bugeisha was attacked first by Uber and Leet's gang—"

"But the violen—" Jim raised his hand and cut the man off.

"The Protectorate has concerns about her activities, it is true and it is our hope that she will come in to speak with us soon. Onna-Bugeisha, um, if you are listening, understand that this is not an attempt to arrest you. But that situation could have very easily ended in tragedy, and not simply for Uber and Leet's forces, all of which are expected to make a full recovery."

Then Dauntless stepped up and started talking about new Protectorate patrols in the affected region, including Trollhunter and Shadowdancer focusing on the various areas most under threat, which incidentally happened to be Asian.

"Why not just bring…"

"Another Asian cape in? It would be seen as pandering and even an Asian cape would still be an outsider."

"We've only been here a few months!"

"You've stopped Lung, made it plain you're willing to die to protect the Bay, and…" Taylor's lips quirked minutely. "Wave at people. Why do you think they put Jim up there?"

To make him miserable? Claire thought. Jim was great one on one, or with a team, but that kind of public speaking… Well, it brought back memories of standing in front of Usurna.

"Because Armsmaster has laryngitis or is locked in his lab again?" That was unfair. Armsmaster liked Jim, as much as he liked anyone not named Dragon.

"He inspires loyalty. You both do."

"Jim, sure."

"Both of you, but you don't need training in public speaking. He does, and you have to be able to speak like that before you become a leader in the Protectorate. PR." Taylor stared at the TV, the wind ruffling her curly hair. "I bet they're already thinking about some place where you and Jim can be put once you turn 18, maybe second in command for a mid-level team to get you experience, before they put you in charge of your own team."

What? Claire shook her head. "We're probably going home," when Merlin gets off his tail, "And even if not, we'd be 18! They want us to lead at eighteen?"

Taylor didn't say anything for a moment. "Becoming a parahuman… Fucks people up. Some people rise above it, some don't. But it doesn't choose for leadership, or being able to inspire people, at least not without a master power." She glanced at Claire. "You and Jim would make great leaders, and even if you go home… Well, you're friendly figures. It's a win-win."

"Leaders…" Claire frowned. "Fine. Got your work suit?"

"Near here…why?"

"We need to talk to Merlin." Claire grinned. "Take a tour."

"A tour?" Taylor suddenly looked taken aback.

"Sure. Get autographs, lots of useless foam toys, maybe a standy of Armsmaster…" she paused. "Reassure Clockblocker that you are not a spirit of bugs, vengeance, and justice, sent to punish the unrighteous of the Bay."

"Why would he worry?"

"According to him, there are no righteous people in the Bay. In a past life, he thinks he was Ghengis Khan."

"Maybe I shouldn't reassure him then," Taylor said.

"Just don't terrify him too much," Claire said. "And watch out for Vista."

"Why?"

"Because she's done the math. One or two more women on the team and we have a majority for the movie night votes, compared to the guys."

"That bad?"

"Let's just say that I like action and horror as much as the next girl, but a Romcom isn't, contrary to what Kid Win says: Tinkertech acid for the eyes."

Taylor snorted, and Claire saw the definite start of a smile on her face, quickly smoothed out. Then she nodded. "We probably should talk to Merlin about what I was told… and maybe after that, a quick tour."

Claire grinned. "I think you'll like it."

I had to choose what I would wear. My uniform, yes. I'd take the armor inserts out, to look less aggressive… As well as not give any observers too close of a look at my tools.

Claire and Jim were very nice people… but sometimes I worried that they might be too trusting. I'd keep the batons. They knew I used them.

My backpack… no. It was new, something I'd built myself, with chambers in it where I could pack in my insects, including my newest weapon—50 Japanese giant hornets. I had other hives that I had established around town, but I couldn't be certain I'd be close to them, so I now had the ability to take them with me, along with spiders, and some bullet ants that the wasps could drop on people.

But the PRT didn't need to know that.

I was being friendly, so I'd also leave my full helmet behind. I wouldn't need the respirator or the NVG system, or the integral camera. Besides, the PRT might object to me recording the layout of their base.

In any case, I'd done that some time ago, while eating at the little cafe by the building.

Claire was waiting for me at our meeting place, in her civilian clothes. She grinned. "Not going full warlord?"

I tilted my head. "Warlord?"

"You find out your enemies' weaknesses. You maneuver to put them at a disadvantage, then you strike with overwhelming force and terror." Claire shrugged. "Warlord."

"I prefer… aggressive law enforcement."

"Devouring would be Merchant leaders with bugswarms?"

"Very aggressive law enforcement." I nodded at Claire. "Unleashing a flood that undermined an office building and turned it into a pit full of water?"

"Aggressive communication," Claire said.

I almost laughed.

When we got to the PRT I was given an ID card and warned not to lose it, or leave the presence of Claire or another PRT officer.

Claire didn't say anything, just gestured to the foam nozzles.

But a few moments later, we were heading up to the lab that Merlin had ensconced himself within.

"Merlin can be…" Claire paused. "An asshole."

"Really."

"No, I mean, he can be a real asshole," Claire said. "When Vista mouthed off to him and said she could handle anything…" She took a breath. "He conjured a perfect illusion of the Siberian and had it go after her. Scared the c—scared both me and her."

I could see why. Close combat with the Siberian…

"So don't let him get to you," Claire said. "He's like that to everyone."

"Then he'll have to make an exception," I told her. After Emma, Sophia and Madison, I was done with 'not letting people get to me'.

And then we were walking into Merlin's chamber. The tinkertech—or magic, if you believed Merlin and Claire—equipment was incomprehensible to me. Some things just seemed to fade in and out of reality.

"And who is this?" Merlin asked.

"Orb Weaver," I said.

"Well, I'm not on the tour, so—"

"I met a spirit. A loa, it claimed to be. Baron Cimitière."

"It could be a cape," Claire said. "I mean…"

"What?" Merlin asked.

"Well, Voodoo, It's…"

"Nearly as ridiculous as people putting up pictures of their loved ones and setting out food for them?" Merlin asked. "I've seen you talking to Jim about cluttering up the house with that Day of the Dead superstition…"

"That's different! Those are re—" Claire cut her words off and slowly turned red. "And then I was the asshole," she muttered.

"Better." Merlin nodded. "Why did the spirit, or cape, speak to you?"

"It had a message for me." I resisted the temptation to step back as Merlin raised his hand and a light rose up around me. "Well, you have the mystic potential of a rock, so it wasn't that…"

"It said that I came to a grave and talked to the dead."

"Do you."

"My mother." There were bugs in the vent shafts and if he…

Merlin frowned, then nodded. "Dwelling upon the dead… Do you wish for her to return, or simply speak with her?"

This was getting entirely too personal. Oh Taylor, did you go and cry again? I know, too bad you didn't die instead. At least your Mom was worth something…

"People don't come back from the dead. I…" I paused. "I speak to her, or at least my memory of who she was."

"Ah." Merlin reached out and a book slapped into his hand. "That would explain why, if this was a spirit, it came to you. Psychopomps are rarely friendly to those who attempt to violate the natural order."

"Wait, they exist?" Claire said. "Really?"

"Really."

"But you—I'm just working on elementals and you didn't even—"

"Because seeking such entities out is dangerous, and more than a few apprentices have falled." Merlin let the book fly back. "But, this is as good a time as any. What we call elementals are transitory beings, called into existence, and then dismissed. Spirits, are enduring beings, though their aspect changes based on the belief of the culture."

"Not the person?" I asked.

"Oh my, no, not any more than a single grain of sand can carve a mountain by itself. Vodou is a new system, but the nature of its birth was powerful."

"Why?" I asked. Crazy or not, this was interesting.

"Because they had nothing. Slaves, ripped from their homes, families, forbidden to speak their language." Merlin shook his head. "Who seeks out meaning more fiercely? The family safe at home, or the man who will never see his children again, and can only pray that they have a 'kind' master?" Merlin nearly spat the last word.

He was angry. From Claire's expression, that wasn't common.

"So it could have been an actual Loa?"

"Maybe. What else did it say?"

"We wrote it down," Claire said.

"And if I wanted to read it, I would have asked for that paper. What did it say, Orb Weaver?"

And there was Merlin being an asshole.

But I told him and he… I wasn't good at reading his expression, but he didn't seem happy.

"The skies are silent. All those dreams, those billion, billion worlds are dead and gone. Something came for 'em, plucked 'em from the vine, and now the otherworld is thin and quiet. Before the hole opened between our realms, it was all I could do to manifest a whisper…" Merlin frowned. "If it wasn't lying…" He went for another book, flipping it open to a page before he did something, and a flare of light appeared. "I had not considered this…" he stared, and the earth appeared before us. The earth had a dim flickering aura about it. Save for the Bay, where it blazed, and then it slowly seemed to be spreading. "But this…"

"What, Merlin?" Claire asked.

"This… cannot be." Merlin gestured, and more books and objects flew out, orbiting around us as he gestured and spoke.

I had no idea what he was doing, but suddenly, Merlin's eyes widened. For an instant, he looked…

Frightened.

"Merlin." Claire looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm an old fool," Merlin said. "I never thought to check the spiritual realm, because it's… there. Always. We do most of our magic on a different level, well, if we're smart. The great powers do not appreciate mages trying to play petty mastery with them."

"And?" I asked.

"It's weak. Not because Earth Bet isn't generating it, but because… It's almost as if the rest of the universe is empty, or nearly so." He paused. "All those billion billion worlds… It would have to be, to have this effect… Not just sapient species, but even those with a more primitive sense of… self."

"What does it mean?" Claire asked. "The Apocalypse is coming?"

"Oh, no, Claire. You're thinking far too small. It means the Apocalypse has already happened."

"Is that why he talked about the Great Death and the Little Death?" Claire asked.

"Maybe. But be wary of prophecy." Merlin shook his head. "And yet the message and warning came to you, Claire Nunez." He paused. "Are you ready for it?"

"I… I don't know," Claire said. "I don't even know what is it!"

"Good." Merlin turned to me. "And what about you?"

"I don't walk away from my friends." I looked up at him. "How can I fight this?"

"I don't even know what this is," Merlin said.

From Claire's look, she wasn't happy to see Merlin admitting ignorance.

It was then that there was a knock on the door. Merlin went to it, and the door opened, revealing Armsmaster.

"Orb Weaver," he said.

"Armsmaster."

"Director Piggot would like a meeting with you, if possible."

"I can—"

"Alone, Shadowdancer."

I frowned. Why wouldn't… "Don't worry, Claire, I can find my own way home."

With that, I nodded to Merlin, and turned to leave.

Director Piggot had a frown on her face as I walked into her office. I didn't think I had done anything to annoy her.

But then, from my information, she rarely smiled.

"Orb Weaver. This conversation isn't happening. There aren't any recordings of it, and the PRT will deny it ever happened."

Okay…

"Why?"

"Because in general, hiring an outside contractor to out a parahuman is frowned on. But that's what I'd like you to do. Find Onna-Bugeisha, get her identity, and either bring her in, or bring her under control."

"Why?"

"Sophia Hess," Armsmaster said. "Our ability to… offer deals to violent parahumans has been constrained since that event."

I tensed. Is he blaming me?

Piggot shook her head. "What Armsmaster means is that due to the PRT's inability to keep control of a Ward, future cases where a parahuman is brought in involuntarily by PRT or Protectorate forces may see legal action applied where it would be… unwise. More importantly, sources in the Think Tank predict a better than 60 percent chance that her activities, without any further intervention, will result in at least one case of felony murder within the next three weeks. That goes up to nearly 90 percent in two months. After that, our hands will be tied."

"So you want her to turn herself in. What if she refuses?"

"Joining a known heroic team, say, the Guild would give us a fig leaf. Alternately, if she can control her… tendencies, activity as an independent rogue would give us time to try more traditional avenues to have her join the Wards or Protectorate."

"If the Empire and Elite gave her that chance. Presuming nothing else changes, she also has a fifty percent chance of dying to an Empire cape in the next two months." Armsmaster shifted. I could tell that he didn't like this cloak and dagger style discussion.

"I understand." I tilted my head. "When I have her, whatever the final decision, how do I contact you?"

"Through Trollhunter and Shadowdancer," Piggot said. "Just… Try not to get him involved in murdering Kaiser."

I couldn't help it. I smiled. "Then I'd better hurry. If the Empire hurts or kills Onna-Bugeisha, the chance of that probably goes up." Nobody even bothered to deny that. As I walked out, I was already adjusting my schedule in my head. I'd start tonight.

On the way out with my PRT escort, I noticed Clockblocker. He stared at me. As I passed him I said, "Don't worry, you weren't Ghengis Khan. Just a corrupt Union Manager."

He stopped. Then, as I left. "How did she even know that?"

I smiled. It was strange to think that I was actually doing that enough that it didn't feel strange, now.