Piggot's reaction was less than stellar. There had been shouting, threats of violence, promises of demotion, more shouting, and Dragon had only managed to halt her tirade by pointing out that Piggot had exactly no authority over her whatsoever.
Colin had been suspiciously quiet for the entire time, and she wouldn't have been surprised if he had somehow managed to soundproof his armour. Eventually she had calmed, her face flushed an unhealthy red as she called up the Chief-Director.
Despite the late hour and urgency of the request Rebecca Costa-Brown seemed as unflappable as ever, her first reaction to the news that Dragon had been talking to an Endbringer not half-an-hour ago a mere slow blink.
"How sure are you of this communication?" Was her first question, one Dragon had been expecting.
"Enough to bring this straight to you." She replied. "I would know if it were fake."
"The repercussions from imitating an Endbringer for their own gain would be enough to put he majority of villains off of such an action." Colin added. The Chief-Director acquiesced the point with a nod.
"Show me."
Watching it back afterwards let Dragon realise how awful the sound of Khepri's speech actually was. Her processors were quick enough to translate it on the go, and she lacked the biological feedback systems that would've caused pain.
Piggot winced at it, as did Colin despite him hearing it before, although Dragon did note that the Chief-Director seemed indifferent.
"Christ. Not even a day after Vegas." She said after a moment, letting a rare moment of weariness show through in her tone.
"At least she made it clear that she is returning to whatever form of rest it is that the Endbringers take." Colin offered into the silence, and Dragon couldn't help but smile fondly at him.
"Quite. I note that neither of you took the opportunity to ask any useful questions."
"We were…overcome by shock." Dragon offered, making her avatar blush. "We will be more prepared next time."
"Next time?" The director asked, letting a bit of scepticism out.
"It seems likely that she will contact us again at some point, considering the relative mundanity of her reasons." Colin said, coming to Dragon's defence.
"It seemed like she was thanking me. Like she owed me something." She shrugged. "But I know of nothing I might've done for her, let alone something that would be breaking what is now clearly years of silence for."
"Think some more on it." Costa-Brown said. "This is the most information we have ever had on the creatures, and I refuse to not eke out every last advantage we can from it. I'll have Watchdog look over the recording to see what they can pick up. We will reconvene with some of the other directors as soon as they have something for us."
The three of them nodeed, Piggot saluting, but the director didn't immediately end the call.
"It should be needless of me to say, but I will regardless. Not a word of this is to leave this room. I will not make threats simply because the consequences should be clear enough." She took a moment to meet the gaze of each of them. "Dismissed."
Piggot let out a sigh, and relaxed slightly.
"I want you to go over Dragon's entire history, starting with any and all contact with the Endbringers you have had. Then…" Here she paused, considering. "There is a theory, among the PRT directors and Watchdog thinkers, that we don't normally share with the public at large, or even the parahumans in the Protectorate. It has proven bad for morale, and is ultimately useless information when the attacks are happening. I think, however, that both of you are mature enough to process it."
Colin shifted, and Dragon had known him long enough to see the anticipation in his stance.
"Aside from the Simurgh, who is and has always been a mystery, the other three Endbringers seem to have a pattern. Behemoth kills the weakest parahumans. Leviathan creates more in the devastation after he has hit a city, and Khepri refines them. It is no coincidence that there are exponentially more second triggers during her attacks than there is in the normal life of a parahuman."
Dragon nodded at this, having had to delete a few similar discussions from PHO for the PRT. While it wasn't the most difficult conclusion to come to, it was still taboo talking about Endbringers, so it wasn't something she had to do often.
"Khepri, especially, seems to make a game of it and we can only guess as to the purpose. She has always been different from the others."
"Attacking almost three times as often. Always in the summer of whichever hemisphere. Civilian casualties are miniscule compared to her siblings, and even parahuman deaths are light." Colin said, thinking out loud.
"And eerily human." Dragon added. "Even more than the Simurgh."
Piggot slumped backwards into her chair.
"I had never liked the implications of the Endbringers have such a degree of planning." A hand slicked her hair back, rubbing at crease lines. "The idea that they are sapient, that they can talk…"
A tired quietness descended on them for a moment.
"You'll be off patrols until after the meeting, Armsmaster. This is your top priority. Now get some rest."
He nodded and stood, already lost in his thoughts. Dragon offered Piggot a goodbye before shutting the call down and switching to the camera in Colin's workshop.
Writ rode on the back of a paper gryphon above Brockton Bay, revelling in the view and freedom of flying, especially after experiencing Khepri's sandstorm only a day prior.
Despite the wind buffeting her ears and the cold that was starting to creep into her limbs it was one of the few times she could truly enjoy her powers.
Normally she was either fighting, admittedly something she had taken to well, or it was quiet enough that seeing her white armour only served to remind Writ of her trigger.
She knew that Emma suffered a similar problem when she shifted into her changer form. That in the instant after the change was complete she saw knives, instead of claws, and the dark of an alley instead of black armour.
They managed together, however, often spending time watching films or talking during the nights they couldn't sleep. Writ knew it wasn't the healthiest response, that while she wasn't replacing Taylor with Emma she had basically adopted the girl, especially after she had divorced Danny.
The same was true in reverse, Emma having given up on her parents ever understanding and struggling to connect with her sister while she was away for college. No, neither of them were replacing anything, and they both knew that, instead more relying heavily on the last strong familial relationship they had.
They had both made friends in the Wards and Protectorate, of course, but they were new. Post-trigger, and there wasn't the same inherent…loss. The other parahumans all had their own demons anyway, like anyone with powers.
Vista got too stressed whenever any of the adult heroes argued. Dennis avoided all mentions of hospitals and Panacea, hiding in jokes instead. Each had their own foible, although the Protectorate heroes had had long enough to practice hiding them.
Writ shook herself, drawing herself back to the present, thankful that checking her caches had become automatic after nearly a year, and turned her attention to the west.
The sun was fading, only a slight glow on the horizon outlining the hills above the city, while below her spread the uncoordinated wash of Brockton's Bays lights.
One of the reasons she loved New England so much was the chaos of the cities, founded before the regimented grid that the rest of America used had come into use. Brockton Bay reminded her of Europe, of old winding streets and quiet rainy nights.
Her route didn't take long to finish, the range on her power being as far as it was, and she tilted her construct back towards the Rig. Her other creations, a mix of birds, insects and pixies, swooped and dove around her.
They were not sentient, at all, but it took no effort at all to animate them that way and Writ honestly preferred it over the frozen stillness they would have otherwise. It was merely a bonus when they managed to distract anyone she was fighting.
She could've gone home but the thought of her empty, single bedroom apartment didn't appeal at the moment. Writ didn't think on the old house, sold off as it was after Danny had left for…where he went off to. She had wiped her hands of him long ago.
"Writ coming in for landing, tower 3." She said into her comm unit. "Whiskey-Uniform-Eight-Umbrella."
"Acknowledged Writ. You are cleared for landing, tower 3."
"Thanks Charlie."
"Anytime, ma'am." He replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
"Such a polite young man." Writ murmured, dipping her voice into a slight tease.
"Just doing my duty, ma'am."
She was pleased that he had only hesitated for a moment this time, and that she could barely hear his nervousness. He knew her identity too, so it was fun to tease him in and out of costume. It was with a better mood that she landed, the gryphon losing cohesion and smoothly transitioning back onto her armour alongside the smaller constructs.
The paper was only slightly unwieldy when she had it all in place, giving her a bulky, heavy look, especially with her weapon and shield on her back. There would've been no way she could've carried the weight of it all if she were unpowered.
There was no sound as the doors opened, smooth as they were, and as she descended the tower towards her room her thoughts turned towards the fight against Khepri in Las Vegas the day before. She had known that Khepri spared some parahumans, of course, but that wasn't really what had happened.
The Endbringer was about to strike a fatal blow, one that Writ had no illusions would be survivable, and then simply…stopped. More than that was the way that something about Khepri was weighing on her mind. Something familiar.
If she were human Writ would've said that she had met her once before, long ago, or that perhaps she knew a cousin. Not direct, but close enough to unsettle her.
She nearly fell into the wall when she bumped into Armsmaster coming down the hall towards his own room.
"Sorry!" She said, regaining her balance. "I wasn't looking…are you okay?" Her team leader had stopped in place, staring at the wall.
"Writ. Yes." He replied, then carried walking for a few steps before pausing and turning to face her. "Are you?"
She chuckled. "I am, thank you. You should sleep Armsmaster."
He seemed to come back to himself then, relaxing slightly. "I will. You won't need to be concerned."
"I will anyway, Colin. Goodnight."
"You too." He replied with a quick smile then turned to continue onwards. Writ rolled her eyes, a mixture of fondness and exasperation running through her, then headed towards her room.
[Exchange]
"I talked to Dragon. And Armsmaster.
[Outcome]
"How did it go?"
[Positive]
"Well...I think."
[Query]
"You don't think I'm making a mistake, do you?"
[Negation]
"No, not at all."
[Freedom]
"You are forging your own path with your freedom."
[Pride]
"I am proud of you."
[Query]
"Why?"
[Hope]
I was also inspired to write an Omake based on a comment someone on spacebattles made on my story about how Eden was only really after kids. I was also drunk, so it was a crossover with Mass Effect.
Omake: Favourite Restaurant on the Citadel
"Now dears." Eden said, smiling down at her four little monsters. "Do play nice with the other children, they're ever so fragile."
"Yes mama." They chorused, although her youngest (and most rambunctious) muttered it in an angry tone.
She had a scowl on her face that, while intense, was far too cute to be threatening at her age.
Lock black hair cascaded down her back in waves and framed a face that still clung to roundness from her baby fat. Her green eyes stood out from her pale skin, the only blemish a trail of freckles running from the corner of her left eye.
Bennie, tall and well built for his age, with swarthy skin and an exotic cast to his features, had already ran off towards the sandpit, unheeding of who he got in the way of. Lorenz, who was nearly as tall as his brother but far leaner, was heading towards the paddling pool, likely to lounge around and occasionally splash water at other kids.
Sammie, who looked the most like her mother with silver-blonde hair and fine, elfin features, had lovingly draped her arms over her little sisters shoulders, ready and waiting for Khia to finish having her rebellion.
"Go on, sweet one." Eden said, gently pushing the pair towards a group of children playing hopscotch.
She couldn't help the swell of pride in her as she watched them all go about, having fun and growing and interacting with the world the way she just couldn't do as a child, or especially after her disastrous marriage. The fling with Abaddon had been so worth it, especially as Khia had been the result.
While she hadn't known the Entity for long she could see the flashes of his personality in her girl, the fire and determination and the will to stand up to the world. Why, one day she might even try to kill Eden in revenge! It made her so joyful inside.
She jumped slightly as a young girl bumped into her leg, falling to the ground as she did so.
"Oh, pumpkin!" Eden said, crouching down to the child and pulling her to her feet, inspecting the bloodied palms as she did. "Now now, lets wipe those tears away, hmm?"
The girl nodded, sniffling slightly.
"Shall I show you a secret?" Eden asked, covering the girl's hands with her own.
"Okay." She said in a trembling voice. Eden smiled, then pulled away and turned the girls palms face up, showing they were completely healed.
"Wow!" The kid whispered. "Are you magic?"
Eden let out a tinkling laugh. "Only a little. Now lets find your parents, hmm?"
Another nod of agreement and the girl pulled her into the park towards a young couple seated on a bench.
"Mom, this nice lady helped me!"
A quick flurry of conversation and reassurances later and the couple turned to her with thanks.
"Oh there is no need to worry. I know how children are, I have four of my own."
"Four?" The mother said, paling at the thought. "How do you handle them?"
"A firm but kind hand, with enough freedom for them to let loose at times." Eden replied. "And I do need to manage their stomachs." She smiled, but it didn't reach her silver eyes. "The whole family has rather large appetites."
"Well you've come to the right place." The father said. "The Citadel has cuisine from across the galaxy!"
"I noticed." Eden agreed, glancing around happily. "I suspect there is a great deal for us to devour."