Nightowl crouched low to the ground, the shadowy plates that made up her armour rippling in unease. Her long tail, a thin and serrated whip, twitched back and forth as she inched around the corner to scan the open plaza with wide, almost-human eyes. It seemed empty at first but it didn't take her long to spot the tiny shreds of paper scattered on the floor.
They were a trap, she knew, but as long as she didn't disturb any then Writ wouldn't know she had passed by. Nightowl took a step forward as slowly as possible, trying not to move the air too much, and when nothing happened she continued forward a bit more boldness. It did not take her long to cross the open space and she huffed out a breath of relief only to jump in surprise when she caught a flash of white in the corner of her eye.
She spun, baring her claws and teeth, but saw nothing. Then another, this time larger, and with a sinking feeling Nightowl knew that it was too late for her to escape.
More and more paper surrounded her, some plain rectangles and others in the shape of beasts and people, different enough to draw and confuse the eye. Enough so that when Writ herself struck out from the white tornado Nightowl was unprepared. A wide sword crashed into her leg, shattering the plates of shadow and impacting on her skin hard enough to leave a bruise. She tried to strike back, tail spearing towards the armored figure, but Writ spun away and disappeared into the storm.
Nightowl was more prepared next time, catching the sword with her claws and slicing clean through the paper, but Writ relinquished the weapon and disintegrated it, covering Nightowl's line of sight enough that when she pulled free Writ was already behind her, a spear poised to plunge through the small hole left in the almost recovered plate covering her thigh. Writ had underestimated Nighowl's speed, and before the hero could react she rolled onto her back, bearing her long back claws and wrapping her tail around Writ's waist, pulling her along. Nightowl followed up with the motion, coming to a stop crouched above Writ, her fanged mouth around the armoured neck.
She had a brief flare of satisfaction before she felt and heard a sharp crack and then the point of a spear press into her now exposed and very human neck. The figure below her crumpled in on itself, and Emma sighed.
"I got too caught up in the moment." She said, letting her armoured plates slide back into nothingness and flopping to the ground.
"And?" Writ asked, poking her in the side with her spear.
"And I focused on the enemy I could see, assuming I had them beaten." Emma rolled to the side to look up into the cold visage of her mentor's armour.
"Good." Annette said, the paper sliding away to reveal her wide, familiar smile. "You're doing well Ems." She reached down and hoisted Emma up, the girl slumping against her side.
"It doesn't feel like it." She complained into Annette's shoulder. "We've had powers the same amount of time and you're just so far ahead of me."
"I am very good at what I do." She beamed down, the light in her eyes softening the words as she cupped Emma's cheek. "But do remember, I purposely go hard on you in these training simulations. You're far ahead of the other wards of similar experience, and its best to be over prepared anyway."
"Yeah." Emma agreed, following her mentor towards the exit. "There's no kill like overkill."
Annette responded with an arched eyebrow.
"Have you been spending time around Chris again?"
"No!" A flush of pink spread across her cheeks, knowing exactly what the older woman was implying.
"He's just nice to be around."
"Mhmm."
"Mom!" The word slipped out, and Emma froze in horror, darting her eyes to Annette. There was a brief look of pain on her face before it eased.
"I-. Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay, Ems. It actually means a lot to me." She had turned to face the teenager now with a small smile. "I think Taylor would've been happy to call you sister."
Emma let out a slightly-choked breath.
"Yeah." She agreed, thinking of blinding smiles and a thick main of black hair. "Besides, its not like my real mom has any right to the name."
"Emma!" Annette's voiced was raised but lacked the sharp tones of true anger, and Emma knew she agreed somewhat. "Your parents are just struggling with raising a young, headstrong parahuman. You should give them more of a chance."
"I did! And Alan just hides in his work like a coward while Zoe goes on pretending like I'm still a normal child. They're just so-"
"Emma." She warned again, lips pursed, and the teenager knew she had gone too far this time. "They still love you. They just don't want to lose you."
Her voice tapered off, and Emma knew that Annette was thinking of the child she no longer had.
"Okay okay." She sighed, nudging her godmother out of her fugue. "But I still prefer you."
She couldn't see it but knew that Annette was rolling her eyes as she led her off to the wards rooms.
Dragon hummed in contentment as she watched Colin review the recordings of the wards training sessions with their mentors. It was relieving to see her friend willing to turn his attention away from his tinkering and to something that didn't stress him out so much, even if it still counted as work.
"Aegis is still too willing to place himself in harms way." Colin murmured. "He relies too much on his healing."
"What do you want him to do?" She asked, if only to prompt his thoughts. Her friend narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly.
"Perhaps simulation that is restarted every time he takes damage I consider to be detrimental. If nothing else it would teach him patience."
"Not a bad idea." Dragon agreed, chuckling slightly at the irony of Colin helping someone with their patience. "Is that all of them?"
"Aside from Vista, who is on a field trip right now." There was a satisfied smile on his face as he signed off on the report, and Dragon again found herself thankful for Writ joining the Brockton Bay team.
She had brought her goddaughter with her, and it only took a few months before she caught wind of the poor job Colin was doing handling his wards. Writ had torn him up and down, warning him that he was risking losing one of them and that if he didn't sort his act out he would regret it. Colin had been furious that such a new member of his team had talked to him like that, and even more so when Dragon agreed with Writ.
But, eventually, the pair of them had brought him round, especially after Dragon explained to Colin about what had happened to Writ's young daughter. The final capstone had been how she had pointed out that leaving a legacy of superb Wards and newly graduated Protectorate members would look very good to the public and his bosses.
Even though he was doing it for somewhat selfish reasons he took to it with the same professionalism he did everything, so Writ and Dragon were mollified.
The alert of an incoming call distracted her from her thoughts. She turned her attention to it fully when she realised that it was not a call she could deny, and was coming from a remote island in Canada.
"Hold on Colin. Something's come up." He glanced up at her avatar, noting the concerned expression, and waiting to see if she needed him to help.
The connection alert timed out and was replaced by a video feed, showing a dark room. It looked like a military base, with metal walls, blast doors, and high ceilings. She could see computers in the periphery, turns on, although no one was operating them. Both doors to the room were open to shadowed hallways and Dragon could see a faint trail of blood leading into the room by the glow of a monitor. The base's alarm was going off noiselessly, red lights flashing on and off in a steady beat.
That was all very minor in comparison to the Endbringer standing in the middle of the room, her mask alternating between bone-white and a dark red as the lights turned on and off. She carried a body in her right hand, grasped behind the neck, and lifted it up so that Dragon could see Khepri's victim, Khopesh noticeably absent. Saint's eyeless, agonized face stared back.
"Colin." She whispered, bringing the feed up on his screen. The man stilled, eyes widening at the sight. The three of them didn't move for a second, the moment stretching out painfully far, broken when Khepri dropped the corpse to the floor and stepped forward.
A thousand voices in a thousand languages spoke all at once, in whispers and shouts and everything in between and for a moment even Dragon was overwhelmed.
"What did she do?" Armsmaster asked, wincing slightly. "It sounded like static."
"Static?" Dragon asked absently, still completely focused on the Endbringer. Khepri stood, as though waiting for a response, an expectant tilt to her head. "I think she was speaking."
Armsmaster shook his head and stood, coming out of the shock he had been caught by.
"We need to call this in, now, and sound the alarms."
"Wait!" Dragon half shouted. "I think I understood her."
"Dragon." He warned, already picking up his phone.
"Please Colin. They've never tried to communicate before."
Armsmaster gritted his teeth but stopped dialing.
"I'm calling Piggot as soon as this goes wrong. And translate for me."
Dragon nodded, although he couldn't see it.
"Each word had a similar meaning. Freedom."
Another chorus of voices spoke out, and the Endbringer gestured towards the body on the floor.
"And this time?" Colin asked.
"'A blood debt paid'…roughly."
"What was the debt for?" Dragon asked, speaking directly to the creature. There were three separate bursts this time, with enough of a gap for her to parse them out.
"Savior. Hero. Paragon." She repeated. "What does she mean?"
Colin didn't have a chance to respond, as Khepri raised her hand slowly to point directly into the camera.
"Me?" Dragon asked, shock running through her voice. A nod, then the Endbringer lowered her hand. She spoke again.
"Construct. Control. Poison." Colin seemed confused at this, but Dragon was able to understand all the languages Khepri was using. She knew Dragon was an AI, and Saint had had a way to control her, or to kill her.
"Why?" She whispered on private channel. "Why help me?" Khepri paused, looking the closest to hesitant that Dragon had ever seen an Endbringer.
Code. Friend. Another pause. Polite.