Thank you all for reading and reviewing. As a reminder, this is a humor fic. Meaning any OOC is by design for the humor.

Chapter Six: Defacing School Property

At first, Phil Rennick didn't understand Piggot's tone when she called in sick and told him to handle the call from Arcadia. If capes were involved, that was a Protectorate issue and something for a field team, not an assistant director.

Then the other calls started. Carol Dallon's voicemail was almost two minutes long. She didn't stop shouting once, not even to take a breath. Sarah Pelham's voicemail was more reasonable. Miss Militia sounded like she was on the verge of tears, which was completely unlike the staid and steady cape.

It was the principal of Arcadia's voicemail, though, that chilled him.

"This is Dr. Howell from Arcadia High. Your new Ward used Vicky Dallon as a wrecking ball to tear down the entire south wall of our cafeteria. Initial estimates put the damage at just over $1.2 million. Since there was Protectorate on site and the Ward was under your direct supervision, expect a bill in the morning and potential lawsuits from students. If it happens again, expect to lose Ward privileges at my school and an inquiry from the governor."

After that, Phil understood exactly why Emily called in sick.

Rachel Alverez, the day-shift Senior Agent in Charge, gave him a look one might receive while walking to the electric chair. "You're going to have to go down there."

Rennick sighed. "The thought had occurred to me. Draw up a squad."

"I don't think we can stop the new girl."

Rennick laughed, but he felt no humor in the sound. "It's not for her. Brandish's daughter just got wrecked by my Ward. It's to protect me."

Like Emily, Phil had been in public service for a long time. He started 30 years ago with the FBI, specializing in white-collar financial crime. With the advent of capes and the PRT, the flow of money shifted. With Endbringers, it changed completely. And being a financial man at heart, Phil followed the money to the PRT. He'd never been a field agent and never pretended to be one. He recognized that Assistant Director was about as far as he could go without that field experience, and was perfectly okay with that.

It was his wife and kids he lived for, not work. Which meant that, at the end of the day, he was still able to smile and even chuckle a little despite 30 years of public service.

The sheer absurdity of the situation made him laugh. The only reason they sent Tiamat to school was because the Youth Guard demanded it. The Ward advocacy group had no concept of what they were dealing with, and wouldn't care if they did. Though the Youth Guard did some genuinely good things to curb some abuses, they were at the end of the day fanatics. And nothing blinded a person or dulled their minds faster than the fanatical belief that they were right and all others who disagreed with them were wrong.

Not surprising, when the PRT transport arrived the school was surrounded by fire trucks, police and reporters. He could see the shattered wall of the cafeteria from the street. The wall used to have a logo of a knight for the school mascot-a knight that looked suspiciously like Gallant's Wards costume.

Now it was gone. Not the painting-the entire wall.

The students were being sent home, but with three thousand, it took some time to do so. "Where are the POIs?" he asked.

"Principal's office," Alvarez said.

"Of course."

The SAC snickered. "Not used to being called to the principal's office, sir?"

"Are you?"

"I have a boy at Winslow. I'm in the office twice a month, minimum. Blackwell's secretary has my PRT phone on speed-dial."

Right.

Phil had a foreshadowing of what was to come from the sound of angry, raised voices audible all the way in the front atrium. A few BBPD uniforms stood around looking nervous. Phil saw Captain Deckard with them. The grizzled veteran police officer saw Phil and shook his head. "You ready for retirement yet, Phil?"

"PRT raised retirement age for non-field personnel to 60," Phil called back. "Four more years."

"Look into early retirement," came the veteran's advice. "Maybe before you go in there. Otherwise it might be disability."

Alvarez snickered. The rest of her squad remained stoically quiet behind their fully enclosed black armor. Rennick knew that the containment foam they used was ineffective on Tiamat. Not only could she eat it, but she actually enjoyed doing so.

"Like marshmallow creme!" the dragon declared during power testing.

Rennick fought back a shudder, sent a prayer to his wife, kids, Jesus and John Lennon for more love in his life, and then walked into the front office. More BBPD blues stood around, and towering in their midst with his head only a foot below the ceiling tiles, stood Manpower.

Neil Pelham was one of the non-flying members of New Wave. He was a powerful, force-field wielding brute who was well known and respected for his restraint and skill in the field. He was also fiercely protective of his kids, Shielder and Laserdream.

That's why Rennick felt a touch of confusion when the giant saw him and grinned. "Piggot called in sick?"

This time, Phil didn't bother hiding his sigh. "Is it safe to go in?"

"Sarah's got Carol under control, mostly," the hero said.

"And Glory Girl?"

Manpower laughed. "After today, she's no longer the queen of collateral damage."

Alvarez snickered again. Phil took a breath to center himself before walking into the conference room. It was a tableau that would stay with him until the day he died.

Tiamat sat beside the principal's desk eating the woman's pens while no one was looking. Beside her sat another student-Tiamat's friend who she'd essentially kidnapped from Winslow High School with the insane belief that she was going to Arcadia because Tiamat herself was.

Opposite, standing and flushed bright red, Carol Dallon screamed at a flustered Hannah Washington, who'd decided to chaperone Taylor out of her Miss Militia costume. Carol's sister Sarah Pelham stood by her side, one hand on Carol's shoulder in a futile attempt to restrain her.

In another corner, Glory Girl herself sat in a chair next to her glaring sister, Panacea. The Alexandria-package was wearing gym clothes and sat with a vacant stare Rennick had seen in Endbringer and IRS audit survivors.

In the midst of all this, maintaining preternatural calm in the face of multiple storms, sat Nancy Howell, Ph.D. She watched him enter with a poker face that would have made Doyle Brunson proud.

"I take it Director Piggot was sick today?" So came the principal's laconic greeting. Somehow, without raising her voice, she cut off Carol's rant. The only sound in the room that followed was the disconcerting crunch of Miss Hebert eating a pen.

Howell chose to ignore the sound. "So, now that we're all here, let's get to business. These are the facts as I understand them, Assistant Director. First, Miss Dallon received a specific warning from a Ward in front of a knowledgeable staff member not to engage Miss Hebert. Ms. Dallon evidently failed to understand the warning."

Rennick glanced at Glory Girl, who didn't even blink.

"Get to the part where a PRT agent pulled a gun on my daughter!" Brandish said.

"Yeah, that was pretty funny," Taylor said.

The entire room turned to stare at her. "What? It was funny. It was loaded with blanks, sheesh."

Howell cleared her throat. "So, what…" She grabbed a plastic ruler and spanked Taylor's hand. "Enough. No more pens."

Rennick waited for the explosion. Not even Miss Militia in or out of costume could stop the disaster that was Taylor Hebert.

Rather than growl or attack, Taylor whined. "My breakfast got interrupted! I'm still hungry."

Of all the things that could have broken Vicky Dallons' fugue, it was the idea that Taylor could still be hungry that did it. She blinked, turned, and stared in horror. "You ate 50 pounds of food!"

"Yeah, so?"

"Girls," Howell said sharply. "Miss Hebert, please stop eating my pens."

She met Taylor's inhuman draconic stare without blinking until the younger girl sighed. "Fine."

With dominance somehow re-established, Howell continued. "Miss Dallon then proceeded into the cafeteria where Miss Hebert was...making a show of herself."

"What?" Taylor asked again. "It's not my fault my boobs make boys act drunk and smell good."

The old male bureaucrat in Phil shied away in horror at that statement. The father of three girls in him sighed tiredly. He remembered the constant battles he went through to convince his youngest that bra-less crop-tops and shorts that left her butt-cheeks hanging out were not appropriate attire for a family Sunday party.

Naturally, Vicky Dallon had to ruin it. "You stay the fuck away from Dean, you slut!"

Hebert scoffed. "He's Missy's. Carlos and Rory are mine. Missy 'n me split them up fair and square."

"Missy?" Vicky's momentary confusion gave a brief respite to the explosion. "Wait...you mean Vista? You...you split up the Ward boys with an eleven-year-old girl?"

"That's why I get two. I'm older." Taylor seemed pleased to point this out, as if she'd just proven a complex theorem.

The girl's logic left the room breathless. Rennick cleared his throat. "So let me guess. Miss Dallon tried to take some of Miss Hebert's breakfast?"

Howell nodded. Taylor growled, and the entire room vibrated from the power of it. "She touched my pancake," the dragon said, her voice dipping into registers of sound that hovered on the edge of human hearing. Outside, one of the police K9s began barking in a pained whine.

"And that's when Miss Hebert began to fight?"

"It wasn't a fight," Howell said archly. "A fight implies both sides had some parity. This was abuse. It was Miss Hebert holding Miss Dallon by her ankles and slamming her repeatedly through different sections of the wall."

"It's not like I ate her," Taylor said defensively.

"Thank God for that restraint," Howell said dryly.

"Yeah, some jerk changed the Wards op manual and now there's a $1000 fine every time I eat someone. It was only Oni Lee, it's not like I make a habit of eating people. I mean, not yet."

Beside Vicky Dallon, her sister Amy glared daggers. "So, if it didn't cost you a $1000 you would have eaten my sister?"

"She touched my pancake," Taylor snapped back. "It was mine. People who take my stuff get eaten!"

"Unless there's a fine," Rennick added quickly. He made a mental note to send Yamada a thank you card.

"Yeah," Taylor admitted reluctantly.

Rennick looked around the room. There were six capes in a very small space. Miss Militia in civilian garb, Carol Dallon and her sister Sarah Pelham, Amy and Vicky Dallon, and of course Taylor.

"First things first," Rennick said. "Miss Hebert, your friend is not a student at this school."

"She's mine," came the answering growl. "She goes to my school. I don't care which one."

"Why is Hebert even here?" Amy demanded.

Oddly, when Rennick said, "Youth Guard", Carol Dallon and Principal Howell said the same thing, at the same exact moment.

Taylor leaned back and put an arm around the flushed, patently discomforted young teen beside her. "So Ems is with me."

"That's not how this works," Rennick said.

"I'm a dragon. Your argument is invalid."

"Alexandria could so kick your ass," Glory Girl declared.

Now that was an idea, Rennick thought.

"Maybe," Taylor allowed. "She is pretty awesome. But that doesn't matter. Emma is mine, she goes to my school. And no one touches my food."

To Rennick's relief and shock, it was Howell who handled the response. "Very well, we can fit Miss Barnes into our classes. But there are conditions, Miss Hebert. First off, no damaging school property. From this point forward, you will be held financially responsible for every item you break. Do you understand?"

"That's not fair! Everything's breakable!"

"Yeah!" Vicky said. Then she blinked in alarm when she realized she'd agreed with her antagonist.

"The same goes for you, Miss Dallon," Howell added.

"What?" Carol Dallon's cheeks began to burn again. "You can't put this on my daughter!"

"Sure she can, your daughter touched my pancake," Taylor said, as if pointing out that the sun rose each day. The sheer absurdity of the statement left Carol flummoxed.

"In return, Miss Hebert, you are to conform to the school dress code," Howell continued. "I understand it can be satisfying to make boys act drunk, but they are also here for an education. Bras, from now on."

"Fine." And abruptly, the teenager became much safer for Phil to look at.

Vicky sputtered. "But...how?"

Taylor leaned back in her chair and shared a Cheshire-cat smile. "I'm actually naked. My clothes are an illusion."

Howell pointedly ignored that. "The bill…"

Phil jumped in quickly. "The PRT will of course cover the deductible. This will fall under the parahuman acts rider on the school's insurance. I'll make sure Arcadia doesn't pay a cent out of pocket. That includes any portable buildings you may need and any potential suits that may arise. We have several on standby from the Federal Endbringer Management Agency we can loan the school."

"Thank you," Howell said. She turned her steely gaze to first Vicky, then Taylor. "Ladies, you are both incredibly powerful capes. You jeopardized the safety of every student here over a pancake, and it is frankly a miracle no one was actually hurt. If it happens again, you will be expelled and charged for willful destruction of property, heroes or not."

The entire time Howell spoke, Carol Dallon turned steadily redder until she was almost puce. Her sister held her tightly by the shoulders. Carol turned her faging eyes to Phil. "Why is that...animal not being arrested?"

"Magical animal," Taylor added helpfully. "I'm a dragon."

Phil bit back an impatient sigh. "Carol, if Manpower stopped you in the hallway and told you that there was a dangerous threat that you needed to stay away from, what would you do?"

She blinked. "What does…"

"What would you do?" Phil snapped again, using his dreaded Dad voice.

"I'd listen to him. What does…?"

"I personally ordered Gallant to pull your daughter aside and tell her to stay away from Tiamat. He explained to Miss Dallon in front of a teacher that starting anything with our newest Eidolon-tier cape with draconic instincts about food would be a bad idea. She then went and did exactly what Gallant told her not to do. I'm not happy about Miss Hebert's behavior. But her behavior is consistent. She's the same girl who ripped Oni Lee's heart out of his chest and ate it warm. Who bit off one ABB man's hand and an ABB woman's foot because they hurt her friend."

"Japanese food," Taylor said helpfully.

Carol started as if slapped. Phil sighed. "Decisions have been made at the highest level that the entire country will be safer with Taylor as a Ward. More importantly…" He turned to Vicky. "You do not steal food from a dragon!"

"You tell 'em, Phil!" Taylor said. "I don't know why Triumph called you a used up, tired old windbag. You're pretty spry to me!"

Count to ten. Phil counted, and took a deep breath through his nose. "We'll revise the op manual to include property damage as well," he said more for Howell's benefit than anyone else's. "Are we done?"

"We're done," Howell said. "Miss Dallon, Miss Hebert, one week's detention starting tomorrow. Now please go away."

"Do you want me to fly you home, Ems?" Taylor asked as they stood to leave. She draped her arms over her quiet friend's shoulders and the two walked out. Before any others could follow, Phil held up his hand for them to wait. He motioned for the window from the principal's second floor office, and the Dallons gathered around and watched as Taylor instantly transformed into a forty-foot dragon, gathered her friend in a claw large enough to hold a sedan, and flew away.

"Ladies," he said, realizing he was the only man in the office. "Taylor Hebert has high threat ratings in nearly every single power category. Aside from her obvious strength and speed, she has Thinker, Stranger and Master powers that make her one of the most dangerous capes in the country. Nothing short of the Triumvirate would even make her blink. She is also…"

"Insane?" Carol snapped.

He felt his shoulders drop in defeat. "The PRT psychologist uses the term non-human. She does not have standard human morality, ethics or perceptions. For you, touching a pancake is nothing. For her, it triggered a dangerous instinct that actually had her threatening her own father. She's a fascinating young...dragon. But she is a dragon. And Washington wants her as a Ward." He turned to Miss Dallon. "I'm sorry if she hurt you, but I'm ordering you as PRT Assistant Director not to antagonize her. If you trigger her enough, she will kill you. She will eat you. And I'm not joking. Do you understand?"

Vicky looked numb as she nodded.

"Good. Again, I'm sorry this happened, and I'll do what I can to mitigate her behavior as much as possible. But given a choice of having her as a troublesome Ward, or an uncontrolled villain, we should all be able to agree on the former being preferable, right?"

Vicky turned to her sister. "Former means being a Ward, right?"

Amy shook her head. "Vicky, you have a concussion. Stop talking."

Phil decided not to linger for the reaction. He turned to leave the principal's office. Alvarez followed on his heels, and the rest of the squad on hers. "So, broke out the old Dad voice, huh, sir?"

"We do what we have to do, Alvarez. We do what we have to do."

~~Wyrm~~

~~Wyrm~~

"Again."

Daisuke started the grainy cell-phone footage for the fourth time from the beginning. Mako and Ryo said nothing as they stood to the side. Daisuke had the video playing on his laptop for the larger video.

Lung sat on the edge of his recliner, his elbows on his knees. All those who attended him could see the heat that poured off him as he fought to control his anger. In the sanctity of his home, he did not bother with a mask. All his lieutenants knew who he was, and knew his word was Law.

On the video, they all watched again as the hakujin josei punched her hand through Oni Lee's chest and ripped out his heart. She ate it in one bite, like out of a horror movie, before she turned into a huge, terrifying dragon and ate the rest of Lung's favorite lieutenant.

"Her name?" His voice had deepened with his anger and the beginnings of a dire transformation.

"Taylor Hebert," Daisuke said with a dip of his head. "A Ward. There is more."

He forwarded on his phone to the next video clip. This one would have had Lung laughing if he had not just lost his most beloved servant.

The same dragon as before held Glory Girl by her ankles and slammed her into the wall of the Arcadia High School cafeteria wall. A hole shattered as if from a cannon blast. The foolish cape flew back in, only for the dragon to repeat her tactic. Four times, until by the fifth the whole wall collapsed, burying Glory Girl in the rubble. She was hurt when she climbed free, bleeding profusely, until her healer sister arrived to save her.

"They parade her like a trophy, when she has Oni Lee's blood on her claws?" Lung's hands caught fire; he didn't notice. "They dare, as if there will be no consequence?"

No one dared speak. Everyone remembered Daichi's fate for angering Lung, and none wanted to repeat it. It wasn't until Lung sank back down into his recliner and brought his fires back within himself that Daisuke dared speak. He spoke the only words that would not get him killed: "What shall you have of us?"

"Find her family and bring them to me," Lung demanded. "Hurt them, but do not kill them. After, tell her that I, Lung, made this happen. She has size, but her will is weak. I shall show her who is the true dragon."

Daisuke stood and bowed from the waist. "We will make it happen, Lung."

"Yes, you shall," the leader of the Azn Bad Boys declared. "Fail me, and you shall suffer in her family's stead."