I stood stock still, staring at the supervillain in front of me. Every impulse in me said to back away or run, put some distance between myself and the hulking metal man. Instead I stood my ground. I knew that almost certainly would seem like I was challenging him, but the alternative had too much risk to expose my minions, and thus my identity as a cape.

Trainwreck looked down at me, taking a single step forward. From the sound it made, I was sure that he probably could have crushed an engine block underfoot just from the weight of his suit. Less distance between us now, but I still didn't move.

He grunted at me, apparently surprised at me. "The fuck are you doing here?" The tone was wary, unfriendly, but not outright hostile.

I swallowed nervously. I really needed to start coming up with alibis ahead of time. "I… I just wanted to get away from people." Same tactic as with Dad, enough of the truth to be genuine but not enough to be incriminating. I was a little displeased to realize I was developing a dedicated tactic for lying to people.

His brow scrunched above his goggles in a way that made me think he was narrowing his eyes at me. "That so? You don't look like a bum, and we're a bit away from the streets."

Again, the same tone. Not friendly, but not hostile. It dawned on me that he probably mistook my forced boldness for being too scared to run. Which wasn't entirely off the mark, but it still made for a good excuse for why I was still here.

I couldn't treat him like I did school bullies. I didn't have the restriction of the school keeping me here, so I didn't have an excuse for why I wasn't running away, and that was the very issue that he was taking objection to. And that meant that just trying to stay quiet and ignore him would be a very bad option.

So I had to keep talking. Not the easiest thing given my acquired shyness, especially in this situation, but I needed to keep his attention on me. "Yeah," I admitted, "I wasn't really near here. But I really wanted to get away and this place seemed empty, so-"

"Well it ain't, is it?" Trainwreck interrupted me. He took another step forward, his arm now stretched back to maintain his hold on the caboose. "This place ain't empty, it's mine. And I don't want someone running around on my fucking turf!"

His grip tightened on the caboose and he heaved forward on the train car. I heard things hiss and ping in his suit as he brought his whole body into the motion, but nothing broke or exploded. The caboose was dragged forward, teetering precariously from his grip on its upper side as if it might fall over entirely. I watched in fear, not just because of the raw power he displayed in the motion, but because my minions were scrambling back from the sudden shift in the caboose's position.

The savage was able to dodge back easily, moving away from us to the far end of the train where it shifted less. The beetleing wasn't so lucky. It had been huddled by the wheels and the sudden shift caught it off guard. It was knocked down and trapped beneath the wheels as they shifted, scrabbling to try and free itself.

A second later the caboose shifted again as Trainwreck released his hold on it, letting it settle back onto the ground with a loud crash. The beetleing, trapped under the wheels as it was, didn't have a chance to get away. It was crushed under the weight, unfolding back into nonexistence with the characteristic sound of my power. Unfortunately, that sound was not a quiet one.

Trainwreck was immediately on guard. He straightened up, looking around warily. By now he was right in front of me but I didn't dare move. I was afraid any movement on my part would make him round on me, and as close as he was, I wouldn't have a hope of getting away.

In a small bit of luck, Trainwreck's movement of the caboose with his advance had left it at an angle that still hid my savage from his current position. I had to force myself not to look at it, focusing instead on the villain in front of me. Something in the forearm of his armor clunked as it adjusted position, some of the crude plating of the exterior shifting their places as whatever it rose up.

"The fuck was that?" He said. The wariness was still there, but there was definitely aggression now. He turned, preparing to look around the caboose.

I did the only think I could think of: keep talking. "What?" I asked, not even trying to hide my nervousness.

He rounded back on me, raising the arm where something had adjusted. I couldn't tell what it was, some sort of tube with roughly welded together a sphere at the front end, but I knew it probably wasn't good to have pointed at me. Running really seemed like a good option now, except now he was actively suspicious.

"You bring some friends here?" He asked. Oh yeah, he was definitely mad now. "Planned to mess with my shit while you thought I was gone?"

It occurred to me that he had just all but confirmed he kept some of his stuff nearby. Clearly not close since I had been coming here for a few days now without drawing his attention, but close enough. Something to think about later.

I shook my head. "No, I'm alone, I swear!"

It was a herculean effort to keep myself from looking at the savage. It was still crouched at the other end of the caboose, hidden for now but still clear to see as soon as he poked his head around the corner. If there was ever a time to learn to command my minions without actually speaking to them, it was now.

I focused on it, trying to convey the command for it to move, to hide. For a moment I thought I felt something through my connection to it, but I was too focused on Trainwreck to really pay attention. The supervillain moved to look around the corner but the savage was already moving, backing up and around the side of the caboose. In the second it took Trainwreck to reposition himself and look, it was already out of sight. I still wasn't sure if it had responded to my command or acted under its own instincts, but at the moment I didn't really care.

Trainwreck twisted his body to look around the area, apparently unable to move his head in his armor, trying to look for someone else without moving too far from me. The arm with the attachment still loomed close, dissuading any attempts to escape. For a moment I considered summoning some beetleings to attack him from behind while he was distracted. I dismissed the idea just like I'd dismissed the idea of running. Far too easy for him to just cave in my head or my ribs with a casual hit and put an end to anything I tried.

Apparently unable to see anything from where he was, Trainwreck rounded back on me. He brandished a clenched fist at me, as effective a threat as any club or baseball bat. "I ain't gonna put up with any more shitheads coming here to fuck with me. I won't kill kids, but that doesn't mean I won't rough you up a bit if you don't fuck off."

I backed up a step before the previously ruling paranoia overrode the fear of bodily harm again. He was giving me an out and I'd be stupid not to take it. But my savage was still here. There was no way I could get far enough away for the range to kick in and deconstruct it before Trainwreck found it. Leaving now would mean he found it, and it wouldn't be hard for him to put two and two together.

Falling asleep wasn't an option either, unless I wanted to try and let him knock me out and there was no way I was going to do that. Maybe I could have it run and hide, but that depended on me trying to command it without him noticing and its own skill at avoiding his notice. Between the fact that I still couldn't exactly command it with my mind and the fact that I didn't know what sensors or gadgets he had in that suit, there were too many variables that could go wrong.

Could I fight him? Common sense said no, both because of the risk to my identity and to my general wellbeing. All it would take was one good hit and I'd be done for. If it came down to survival I'd try it, but only as a last resort. Could I take him? Maybe. He depended on the suit and my beetleings were great at breaking things like that, but they were fragile. The savage lurking behind the caboose, less so. With it as a distracting opponent while the beetleings worked to break him down…

My thoughts were going a mile a minute. There were no good options here that I could see, no solution where I walked away uninjured and with my identity as a cape intact. He was too on edge to try and talk down, I couldn't make my savage flee, running would expose me, and fighting would expose me and see me injured or killed.

I took a step back from Trainwreck, trying not to piss him off by refusing to leave while still keeping his attention on me. There had to be something I could do. I latched onto the same idea as last night, that there was no way I would let someone this low on the totem pole be the one to bring me down.

In the process of fumbling for a thought or idea that would work, I hit on my connection to the savage. I'd gotten used to ignoring the connections except when they vanished, using them as little more than a way to keep track of where my minions were. If there was ever a time I absolutely needed to find out how it worked, it was now.

I seized on the connection to the savage. My next step back nearly caused me to stumble as I was swamped by sensation. It was like seeing, hearing, smelling, all senses at once but none of them. I couldn't even parse what it was trying to tell me. But giving up wasn't an option.

I gritted my teeth and steadied myself, still keeping a watchful eye on Trainwreck. He was still watching me, but he wasn't moving to follow. The connection was confusing, orderly but not in a way I could easily understand. It was, I imagined, like being blind and suddenly being able to see, a whole new sense I wasn't used to. Still, I could feel something about its form. A sense of movement on a mental level, drawn to me from it, along with empty pathways and a solid underlying core.

The core was responsive. I could feel it adjust with my focus, becoming more solid as I focused on it. I got a sense of it as I focused on it, a sort of tension waiting to be unleashed. I wasn't sure what would happen if it was. But I was also out of ideas, and my power had helped me before when I didn't know what it was doing. I seized on that connection and pulled.

For a moment I felt the entire connection snap taut. Then it vanished, but not like it had before. The connection snapped back into me, and with it I felt my energy pool surge as it increased its charge. The sensation came with the sound of a minion appearing or disappearing coming from behind the caboose.

Trainwreck whirled towards the noise and I took the opportunity to run. I went for the part of the fence I usually came and went through, stepping on a discarded milk crate to boost myself up and start climbing the fence. With my height and the bonus from the crate, it only took me a second to swing my legs up and over to drop down on the other side.

From behind me I heard a loud hiss that reminded me of the hydraulics from some of the equipment used at the Docks, followed by a loud crash as something struck the chain-link fence. My power surged to the surface but I forced it back down. Using my power to defend myself now would ruin the whole point of running away. I didn't look behind me, I just kept running.

"Yeah, you better run, fuckhead!" Trainwreck yelled.

I didn't hear the distinctive thumping of his heavy footsteps, nor another hydraulic hiss. I spared a glance back as I squeezed through the next fence. He wasn't chasing me. He was still watching me though, and that was enough motivation to keep running.

I was exhausted by the time I got to the edge of the Trainyard. Running on a flat surface had been bad enough, running while also having to squeeze through or climb fences was so much worse. I was breathing heavily, but I forced myself to straighten up and keep walking.

The walking actually managed to help with the ache in my chest, giving me something to focus on. Encountering Trainwreck was definitely not how I'd thought today would go. It disturbed me to think that he might have been close by all these days I'd been coming to the Trainyard. If things had gone a little differently, with a little more bad luck, he might have known I was a cape.

What-ifs and could-have-beens weren't going to help me. So I tried to focus on something more productive as I made my way to the bus stop. My power naturally came to mind. I still wasn't sure if I could command my minions without speaking. I really hoped I could. There were too many things that could interfere with giving verbal orders, distance for one. If I didn't need to actually speak to command them, it opened up a lot more options for hanging back out of sight and letting my minions take the risks.

I didn't want to think about the other option, that my minions had enough intelligence to act on their own impulses. If they could act without my orders… Last night was still fresh in my mind. I'd lucked out with Aegis. If it had been any of the other Wards, or even just a random passerby, my savage's impulsive attack could have ended much worse. I really didn't want them to be able to think for themselves, even if it did mean my power could only surround me with mindless drones.

My thoughts were still in turmoil as I boarded the bus. I'd have to test my power more to figure it out, but I'd just lost my practice area. Though I supposed I gained more than I lost there with the new insight into my power.

I'd run as soon as I heard the sound of my power. I couldn't say why, but I was certain that the savage was gone. Part of that was baseless, a gut feeling. I wondered if it was this sort of instinctual feeling that told other people how to use their powers. If it was, it sure was a hell of a time for my power to be helpful in my attempts to understand it.

The other part was the surge I'd felt in my energy pool. I had a good enough sense of it that I knew its stored energy had increased when the savage vanished. Not enough to replenish the amount I'd expended summoning it in the first place, but a decent chunk. It was almost as promising as the potential for silent commands.

Being able to regain the energy I used to summon my minions, dismissing them in the process, could be very useful. I was well aware that my energy pool wasn't infinite. It could run out, it had an upper limit to how much it could hold, and it recharged fairly slowly. I'd have to test more to figure out how reclaiming the energy worked, whether it was a percentage or a flat amount regardless of minion or random, but it was a way to delay running dry. And as a bonus, I didn't have to worry about leaving minions in hiding anymore.

The thought didn't quite cheer me up, but it gave me a sense of satisfaction. I shook myself out of my thoughts on that high note, looking out the window of the bus to try and get my bearings. I had the rest of the day to kill before going home around when school would let out, and I didn't have a good outlet to practice my power right now. I needed to find something to do.

A particular building caught my eye and my interest as the bus pulled into a stop. Now there was an idea. I got up and made my way off the bus, crowing the street to my destination. I'd spent some time in the hospital and at the library looking up the local cape scene and researching Brockton Bay's, reading forums, wikis, and occasionally an actual news article. Still, despite my research there was one local group I hadn't looked much into. Maybe it was because I didn't think it was important, maybe I was worried what I would find, but I only knew the basics compared to the other groups in the city. And with fortune dropping an opportunity for firsthand research at my feet, I wasn't about to say no.

The Brockton Bay PRT Headquarters loomed over me. The exterior was all reflective windows, distinguished from the surrounding buildings only by the organization's shield logo over the main entrance. I pushed my way through the double doors and walked into the lobby. It wasn't my first time in the PRT headquarters, I'd bugged Mom and Dad let me go on the tour for my birthday at some point in grade school. The memory hit me with a pang of nostalgia and a little bit of sadness as I looked around.

The front desk stood at the back of the lobby as men and women in suits streamed in and out of elevators and hallways. Mixed in with them were tourists and other sight seers, mostly clustered around the gift shop that dominated one side of the lobby. Four foot tall posters of various Wards and Protectorate members hung from the walls, showing off the local team.

Amid the hustle and bustle stood PRT troopers, stationed at the edges of the room. They wore sleek body armor and full-face helmets, half holding grenade launchers and the other half holding weapons that looked like flamethrowers. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I had technically assaulted a Ward last night as I saw them looking over the room, their mirrored visors giving them an ominous look.

I looked away from them before one of them could meet my gaze and make it suspicious, only to find myself looking at a brightly smiling woman who had approached while I was distracted. She was wearing nice clothes that couldn't quite be called a uniform with a name tag that identified her as 'Marya.'

"Hello!" she said in an overly-excited tone. "Are you here for a tour?"

I nodded, then hesitated. "Actually, can you tell me tours that go to the Wards' section? I heard about that, but I think it cost extra?'

Marya nodded, her smile not faltering an inch. "Normal tours are twenty-five dollars and go every half-hour. The premium tours are every two hours from nine to seven and cost a hundred dollars."

I winced a bit at that. I hadn't really considered the price in my impromptu plan. I had the money, but it'd leave me down to my last couple bucks, and I'd need more if I wanted to get a new bus pass in a month. Still, I'd come this far. I wasn't about to miss a chance to check out the team I was hoping to join.

"Okay. Where do I pay?"

She managed to smile a little wider and led me to the front desk where she handed me a paper and pen. Reading it over, it looked like a disclaimer acknowledging that there would be PRT troopers accompanying the tour group and I could be removed at any time if they deemed it necessary. That part made me nervous. If they had ways of detecting capes and I tripped security, they probably wouldn't hesitate to label me a threat. I wouldn't even blame them if they did, sneaking in with a tour group seemed likes something that had probably been tried before.

I signed the paper anyways and handed it over to her along with the money. I normally wasn't in the habit of carrying that much on me, but luckily I'd left it in the pocket of these jeans after I went shopping for cape supplies on Friday. It still wasn't in a wallet though, sitting in my left pocket with my wallet as a decoy in my right holding only a few coins. Habits die hard.

"Thank you!" Marya said. "The next premium tour will be in half an hour, so just be in the lobby then and look for the tour group."

I had time to kill before the tour, so I made my way over to the gift shop. Merchandise lined the shelves, some the generic stuff for the PRT and the big names in the Protectorate and a larger portion dedicated to the local heroes, even some stuff for the PRT itself. Some was the typical household items but with superhero brands, like Dauntless phone cases and Velocity running shoes. Other shelves held stuffed toys, action figures, and even collectible statuettes for cape nerds with the money to spare.

The hero with the most merchandise here was Armsmaster. It made sense, he was both a local hero and one of the bigger Protectorate heroes overall. His face was on everything from the inch-high cheap plastic toy sets to big glossy posters featuring the likes of Eidolon and Dragon. I'd even had some underwear with his logo on it. But his stuff wasn't what I wanted to look at.

I was looking for the Wards stuff. There wasn't much, less even than the generic merchandise with the PRT logo plastered onto it. A few collectable cards, the occasional actions figure without moving joints, some small posters. I'd wanted to known what kind of stuff would get sold in my image if I joined the Wards, and apparently the answer was 'not much.'

It was actually kind of a relief. No having to worry about licensing fees and contracts for a dozen different collectables, or whether my scrawny physique would be immortalized forever in action figure form, which was presumably the point. Selling things in the image of minors probably wasn't the most cut-and-dry area of business.

I was examining a package of PRT trooper styled army men when a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I froze immediately as habit kicked in. My anxiety was clear on my face as I looked over my shoulder, half expecting to see Sophia. Instead I saw a police officer.

The recognition calmed me for half a second before nervousness kicked back in. Had they made me as a cape? That particular fear was quickly calmed. No, I was in the PRT headquarters. If they knew I was a cape and wanted to deal with me, they had muct stronger options than a single police officer. Still, freezing up and a fearful look did nothing to make me seem innocent.

"Excuse me, miss." He said. "Where are your parents?"

The question threw me for a loop. Out of everything I'd been fearing, I hadn't expected that question. "I'm… not here with them." I said.

He hummed as if in thought. "It's a school day, isn't it?"

It clicked. Teenage girl on her own in the middle of a school day. He thought I was a truant. Which wasn't technically inaccurate, but still. I felt a mix of confusion and relief. In the middle of planning and thinking as a cape, and with my encounter with Trainwreck, I'd forgotten that I was supposed to be in school right now.

"I have permission to be absent." I said.

He hummed again. "For what reason."

Fuck. I had an excuse, the same one that had gotten me out of school for real for last week, but I really didn't want to have to tell a stranger even the generalities. "I can give you my dad's number to call." I said, dodging the question.

He nodded, finally taking his hand off my shoulder to pull out a notepad. "Please do."

Well, that was it for getting away with this. I gave him Dad's work number and he dutifully wrote it down. We were drawing stares, so he led me out of the building and down the street a ways to his patrol car. As soon as we were there he pulled out a cell phone and promptly dialed the number, keeping an eye on me the whole time.

I had to wonder if he'd just happened to see me or if someone had called him. Coincidence seemed unlikely, but that was how they worked, wasn't it? If someone had called him, I'd be seriously pissed if it had been one of the PRT workers and they'd waited until after I paid for the tour.

The officer was talking into the phone, but I did my best to ignore what he was saying. Just from the tone of the half of the conversation I could hear, it wasn't great. Less than a minute later he hung up.

"Well?" I asked.

Without answering, he opened the back door of the patrol car. So that's how it was going to be.

"Can I at least get my money back? I paid for a tour."

"That's outside of my power. You'll have to see what the PRT's policy is on refunds." He said flatly.

A refund for a tour that would be starting in half an hour. So probably not. Damn it, that hadn't been cheap. I sighed and got into the back of the car. He closed the door behind me and went around to climb into the driver's seat.

"Do you need to know my school address?" I asked dryly. After the Trio and Trainwreck, I couldn't really bring myself to be upset about this.

"No need." He said as he pulled out into the street. "Your dad told me your home address."

The little bit of hope I'd been holding onto vanished. I'd had the idle thought that maybe they really had made me as a cape and this was some way to get me out of the headquarters without drawing attention to me, maybe so they could try and recruit me. But I recognized the intersections and we were definitely on our way to my house.

It actually made me a little angry. There were so many things wrong with Brockton Bay. The drugs, the squatter towns, the gang violence. The fact that there was a gang full of literal Nazis in the city whose biggest opponent was gang of sex traffickers led by a dragon, neither of which had been shut down by the local heroes. And yet truancy was the one thing they were competent at dealing with?

I stewed in my annoyance the whole ride home. Occasionally my frustration would hit a peak and my power would flare up, but I was easier to stamp back down now then it had been at school. Maybe it was because of the different situations, maybe it was some unknown detail about my power, and damn was I sick of maybes.

My heart sank when we finally arrived at my house and Dad's car was in the driveway. If he'd left work for this, I couldn't imagine the imminent conversation going well. The officer let me out of the car and led me up to the front door. I was at least spared the indignity of having him hold me by the elbow as he rang the doorbell.

Dad opened the door fast enough that I was sure he'd been standing or pacing just inside the door. "Taylor." He said, a note of tension in his voice.

I didn't meet his gaze. "Dad, I…"

The officer spoke before I could decide what to say. "Sir, your daughter was at the PRT headquarters at eleven thirty-four today, a time when she should have been in school. When we spoke over the phone, you said she wasn't permitted an absence today-"

"And I also said I'd like to speak to my daughter myself, something I can't do while you're doing all the talking." Dad snapped at the officer.

The officer's jaw tightened, but he stopped talking. He nodded stiffly, giving me a chance to talk. I didn't say anything, still trying to figure out what I wanted to tell him. I would have rather faced down Trainwreck again than feel the mix of embarrassment and shame I did now.

After a few seconds of silence, Dad spoke up. "You said you'd go to school today." His tone was still tense, but it wasn't angry. Not disappointed either, I couldn't quite place it. Both of those, but suppressed out of concern?

I nodded. "I did. And I tried, but…" I trailed off, trying to gather my thoughts. Trying to explain would mean talking about the bullying, and even if he knew about the locker I still didn't want to tell him everything. A lie, then.

"I got there and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I tried but I didn't… I couldn't…" My voice cracked. That part was wholly genuine. Just talking about it this vaguely brought back the memories of the locker. If things had gone a little differently, if I hadn't gotten powers, that might have actually been how today went.

His expression softened. "Oh, Taylor." He said. "Go inside, I'll talk with the officer."

The officer in question didn't look like he liked that idea, but he didn't stop me as I stepped into the house and closed the door behind me. I stayed there, listening to their conversation. I couldn't make out the words but I could hear the general tone of their voices. After a few sentences I heard a marked difference in the officer's tone, getting significantly softer and less confrontational.

I still didn't know what they were actually saying, but I'd heard enough. I went upstairs and closed myself in my room before flopping onto my bed. Nothing was going my way lately. I'd fucked up my first attempt at being a hero, the Trio were just as relentless for my return, I'd lost my chance to escape through power practice thanks to Trainwreck, I missed out on my attempt at information gathering thanks to this policeman, and now he was probably getting the full sob story about the locker to get him to back off.

I buried by face in my pillow and let out a long groan. One thing, I just wanted one thing to go right! Once I ran out of breath I pushed myself back upright and tried to think. I had problems, but they needed to be separated. The bullying, the ruined day trip, those were the problems of Taylor the civilian, the victim. I couldn't do anything about those.

But the failed heroing, the loss of my space to Trainwreck, those were the problems of Taylor the cape. I took a deep breath, trying to separate my thoughts. Cape problems were something I could deal with, a part of my life where I had the freedom to act. I refused to be a victim as a cape as well as a civilian. Trainwreck was going to interfere with that? I would make him pay.

I got up and dug through my closet until I found an old composition notebook. I'd gotten it late last year after Emma had trashed my old one, which meant it was still mostly empty. I flipped past the first few pages of history notes and grabbed a pen before sitting cross-legged at the foot of my bed.

What did I know? Thanks to Trainwreck's complaint, I knew he made camp somewhere near the area where I'd practiced, or at least kept some of his stuff there. That meant I knew where to start looking for him. But finding him and dealing with him were two different things.

Still, I had ideas about that. Trainwreck was a Tinker, relying on his suit and whatever other gadgets he had to fight. I, on the other hand, and beetleings that excelled at breaking down machinery. They weren't hardy, but I could make five at a time and replace them if and when he smashed them.

I also had my savages. Not skilled in the breaking things department, but bigger, faster, and stronger than the beetleings. They could have their uses, whether as a distraction or as extra muscle when tearing his suit apart.

The ideas gave me a sort of grim satisfaction. I would dismantle Trainwreck and hand him over to the Protectorate, helping make up for the incident last night and avenging myself from earlier today, all in one fell swoop. No hasty decisions this time, no impromptu night's out. I knew what I wanted to do, I knew who I was going up against. Most importantly, I had time to plan

I picked up the pen and began to write.