Chapter 35: Dreams

Eyes pressed tightly shut, Izuku clung to the strand of webbing for dear life as the world around him exploded. He didn't fully realize what was happening, but he knew that if he let go, he would die.

So he held on.

Occasionally a flying metal splinter would graze his body or some molten slag would land against his skin causing him to shout out, but he wouldn't let go. He couldn't just let himself succumb. Eventually the bright lights behind his eyelids faded and he opened his eyes.

He saw he was hanging mere metres above the flaming wreckage of the electrical substation, swaying back and forth mere feet away from certain death. Fountains of sparks and orange flames were erupting from the destroyed capacitors causing the water-soaked ground below to hiss and bubble from the heat. Behind him, the remaining capacitors in the yard were exploding but he didn't have the energy to worry about that right now. He needed to staunch his bleeding.

Peeling back his shredded suit with his free hand, he tried his hardest to concentrate while he inspected his chest. What he saw wasn't pretty. Great flaps of skin were hanging off of his stomach, and the underlying muscle was exposed. He couldn't say how long he had, but considering that his legs felt like they were drenched in blood, he figured he didn't have long before he passed out and fell into the electric hell below him - assuming the heat didn't get him first.

Pressing his spare hand down on his largest wound, he desperately looked around for an escape option. There was nothing above him to climb to and even if he could he suspected that the only thing keeping him from getting fried like a mosquito in a bug zapper was his electrically insulated web. If he so much as even touched the metal around him, he'd be toasted. There were plenty of buildings in range, but he was too close to the ground. If he tried swinging towards them, he'd touch the water and bye-bye Spidey. He could cocoon himself, but even half dead from blood loss he knew that was a stupid idea. He'd basically be giftwrapping himself for the cops.

There was only one thing he could do. Arching himself backward, he swung out his legs. The movement created a small ripple on the strand and he moved forward slightly. Swinging himself backward, he repeated the motion only in reverse. Repeating, he slowly but steadily built up his momentum. The first few swings nearly caused him to faint from the effort but as he got faster, the effort became easier. Soon he was swinging fully back and forward, very nearly touching the sparking electrical apparatus around him.

Gritting his teeth, he braced himself for the next step. Once he was convinced, he had reached the highest potential energy possible, he waited for his speed to gather and just as his swinging carried him up, he released the strand and went catapulting forward.

Flipping through the air, he fired twin strands of web from both of his shooters at the closest building in front of him. Latching on to the brick ledge of the roof, he pulled as hard as he could to accelerate himself forward. Despite his waning strength, he was able to pull hard enough that his body flung over to the ledge of the building. Hitting his chest against the wall, he was dimly aware of a flare up of pain but he ignored it. Instead he focused on just pulling himself up.

Flopping over the brick roof ledge, he collapsed down on the tarred rooftop and lay there panting. Breathing deeply, he struggled to swallow but his mouth was so dry he could only flex his throat painfully. After what felt like a few seconds of just laying there, he turned and began to crawl away from the firestorm.

He might have escaped the yard, but he'd be dead soon without medical assistance. Fumbling for his pocket, he retrieved his phone.

I need to find a clinic, fast! Do a smash and grab for some blood bags and gauze. Doesn't have to be pretty or complicated, I just need to stop the bleeding.

However, try as he might, he couldn't reactivate his phone. After mashing the power button a few times and blinking in dimwitted confusion, he let out a low groan.

The electric fields from the…thing or whatever must have fried my battery. Now what do I do?

Slouching over, he tried his hardest to think, but it was taking almost all of his brainpower just to stay conscious, let alone come up with an exit strategy. After a few seconds, he hauled himself back to his feet.

If I can't go to the hospital, I'll bring the hospital to me. I just…need to hold on for a little while longer…

Stumbling forward, he inched across the rooftop away from the inferno. Sliding down the building wall, he headed for a darkened alley and waited.

The three paramedics rode in tense silence as their ambulance raced along the freeway behind the convoy of firetrucks and police cruisers. As they drove, cars dutifully pulled off to the shoulder of the highway to allow them past but it was still slow going. Several people had parked their cars on the side of the road and had crowded along the concrete divider overlooking the city to get a better view of the massive blaze in the distance.

The ambulance crew was less enthused. They had been on high alert for the last sixteen hours and had seen enough destruction to last a lifetime. Following the breakout at Tartarus they had driven from disaster to disaster, hauling the wounded to the hospital as every psycho in the city seemed to have decided that tonight was the night to cut loose.

Glancing over the dash, the driver of the ambulance felt a bead of sweat roll down his face as he saw the enormous column of smoke and flame rising in the distance. At that moment there was another explosion in the yard and his co-driver swore softly. Electrical fires were dangerous at the best of times, let alone at night in the middle of a crisis.

Switching his attention back to the freeway, the ambulance driver's eyes widened. Slamming on the breaks, he narrowly avoided colliding with the firetruck in front of him. His fellow paramedics said nothing as he turned and followed the firetruck around a car that had broken down in the middle of the lane. He couldn't afford to let his mind wander now. No matter how tired he was, he needed to focus.

Taking an exit, the emergency response vehicles rapidly picked up speed as they entered the thankfully clear road leading to the electrical substation. All of the surrounding buildings were warehouses and light industry so hopefully they were empty in case the fire spread. As he sped down the road, the dash mounted radio suddenly crackled to life.

'EMS Eleven respond.'

The driver's co-pilot grabbed the corded radio head.

'Receiving.'

'EMS Eleven, possible mass causality at electrical station. Company confirms three workers present at site, over.'

'Understood dispatch. Eleven out.'

As his co-pilot returned the receiver to its cradle, the paramedic riding in the back seat let out a snort of frustration.

'Three confirmed? They should've sent two cars. What is dispatch thinking?' he muttered angrily.

Neither the driver or his co-pilot responded. Truth was, every other ambulance was busy with another emergency and they all knew that, he was just venting. But that didn't stop him from being right. They would need two cars. If there were too many wounded, they'd likely have to rely on the police or fire department for additional transportation, which certainly wouldn't help them treat any injuries.

Blowing past the remaining few blocks, the ambulance came to a screeching halt as the convoy stopped. They had arrived. While his fellows moved to the back to ready their gear, the driver toggled the radio and contacted dispatch.

'Dispatch, this is Eleven. We're at the station.'

'Copy. Be advised there are no heroes on site and villain activity has been reported in the area. I repeat: site unsafe.'

The driver heard the other two paramedics stop packing and he swore. There was supposed to be a pro here already! How could they evacuate the wounded if the guy who destroyed the place was still hanging around? They didn't have time for this!

'Uh, understood. Stand-by dispatch.'

He looked back at his two partners. His co-pilot nodded and the other threw up his hands in frustration.

'Fuck it.' he said, 'We're here, aren't we?'

The driver nodded and turned back to his radio.

'Dispatch, Eleven will proceed with search and rescue. Stand-by for casualty report.'

'Understood, Eleven. Good luck.'

At that the three grabbed their medical bags and a collapsible stretcher each and ran out the back. Coming around the firetrucks, the paramedics moved to join the police and firemen who had gathered by the chain link gate. A few dozen metres away, the power station was still exploding. Twisted scraps of flaming wreckage covered the yard and gouts of flame were shooting fireballs far overhead. Even from as far away as they were the heat was blistering and soon everyone was covered in sweat.

'Any sign of the wounded?' bellowed the driver to a police sergeant.

'No.' barked the cop, 'If there are any, they're in there.' he said, pointing into the blaze.

Shielding their eyes, the paramedics squinted to where the cop was pointing. Just barely he could make out cluster of steel corrugated shacks. White hot flames were pouring out their warped windows as they buckled from the intense heat. Face burning, the driver covered himself and looked away.

Maybe dispatch was right to just send one car. If the workers were still in there, then they were long past saving.

By this point the firemen had managed to get their equipment ready and were advancing towards the gate. Getting out of their way, the paramedics retreated back to the vehicles. Before any of them could decide what to do, a voice suddenly shouted at them from the side.

'Yo, we found those workers! Yo!'

Turning they looked over to another policeman who was flagging them over. Grabbing their gear, they rushed over to him.

'We found those maintenance guys. They're trapped in some sort 'a goo.' said the cop.

'Where?'

'That building.' the cop said pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, 'You might need some help getting to 'em, but they're alive.'

Without wasting another second, they rushed over. Entering, they soon found three wriggling masses of white substance stuck to the side of the wall. Setting down their equipment, the three paramedics, approached the men cautiously. They didn't know what the white stuff encasing them was, but it was safe to assume that it was quirk related and when it came to quirks you always had to be careful.

'Hey! This is emergency medical services! Can you hear me?' shouted one of the paramedics next to one of the ensnared men.

'MmmHmmmMMMMmm!' came a muffled reply.

'Damn! They're completely covered up! Get out your knife. We need to cut this stuff off before they suffocate!'

Reaching into their bags, each of them started slicing and picking at the gooey wrapping with their knives, but it was no use. The stuff was too sticky and their blades kept getting stuck. Just as they were about to give up, a group of firemen entered.

'Hey! Can you guys cut this stuff?' called out the driver, 'Our knives won't work!'

'We can try.'

Moving in. The firemen tried their own cutting tools but they had as much success as the paramedics. Finally, one of the firemen pulled out a sharpened metal breathing tube designed to puncture through walls to release smoke. By carefully working it around the goo, the fireman was able to create a small hole through which appeared a man's mouth.

'Gah!' shouted the trapped man, 'What's going on?'

'We're with emergency response. You're in a warehouse. We found you stuck in this white coating. Are you injured?' said one of the paramedics.

'What? W-Warehouse? I-I, uh, no I'm not injured. I don't think so anyway.' said the man.

'Do you work for the power company at the electrical substation?' asked one of the firemen.

'Yeah. Me and my two buddies are the nightshift maintenance crew.'

The paramedics and firemen exchanged relieved looks. With the exception of whoever started the fire, everyone was accounted for.

'Listen: there's been a fire at the substation. Do you know what might have caused it?'

'Beats me.' said the trapped man, 'I didn't see anything. The last thing I remember was fucking Spider-Man bursting through the goddamn window and covering me in this…stuff.'

At the mention of Spider-Man everyone grew tense once more. What if he was still in the area?

'Here, you guys stay here and try and get them free.' said the driver, 'I'm going to call this in.'

'You got it.'

After informing the police sergeant that Spider-Man was in the area the driver returned to his ambulance. As he approached the rear of his van, he noticed that the door to the back was wide open. Unless you were actively moving or treating a patient the door was supposed to be kept closed. There were a lot of junkies in Musutafu and an unattended ambulance was a prime target for someone looking to score some painkillers. With a sigh, he slammed it shut before hustling to the cab. Climbing in, he grabbed his radio.

'Dispatch this is Eleven. The electrical workers have been located. They appear uninjured, but claim they were attacked by Spider-Man. Requesting hero back up.'

'Understood Eleven. I'll see who's available, but don't hold your breath.'

The paramedic sighed again.

'Understood dispatch. Eleven out.'

Taking a deep breath, the paramedic looked through his left sideview mirror back at the fire. All things considered maybe he had gotten lucky. Assuming Spider-Man wasn't still skulking around that is. After taking a moment to have a drink of water he hopped out the cab. Turning, he started to walk back to the warehouse when he suddenly noticed the rear to the ambulance was slightly ajar.

'What the hell…?' he murmured.

Walking back around the doors, he flung them wide. He swore at what he saw. All of the cabinet doors in the medical deck were open and miscellaneous medical supplies lay strewn across the floor where someone had no doubt been searching. Face drawn, the paramedic entered the ambulance and went to the pharmacy. The metal latch securing their drugs had been snapped. Resignedly opening the drawer, he saw that everything was missing. They'd only been on site for a few minutes and they'd been picked clean.

Groaning, he rested his head against his arm. Dispatch would not be pleased.

While the paramedic was busy trying to explain how his ambulance got raided, Izuku was hunched over in the cleaning closet of a textile factory a few blocks away; wrapping his torso in gauze while an IV that he had jury rigged to a mop handle drip fed him blood. Despite feeling like he had been wrung out until he was ripped open, at least he was feeling much more aware – even if that did mean he felt terrible.

I think that's good enough. He thought, running a hand down his now bandaged midsection. Hopefully my regeneration can handle the rest. Now, how about a little pick me up?

He turned his head to the treasure trove of drugs he had snatched from the back of the ambulance. There were pain killers galore, but he wasn't sure how to dose himself. Were four milligrams of hydromorphine too much? Too little?

After hemming and hawing for a minute or two, he settled on just taking antibiotics. His bandages were supposed to be antiseptic, but he didn't trust Doppelganger to not have some weird disease.

He grimaced at the thought of Stain.

I'm pretty sure he's dead. He…he must be dead, right? He fell back into the electrical boxes just as they blew up.

He felt an upwelling of guilt and he quickly shook his head. Killing Stain had been the right thing to do. It had to be. Stain had become an unthinking monster. If it had been him, he would have welcomed death happily.

If Dr. Akatani had his way, or if the transformation had gone differently, maybe someone would have been forced to put me down. Hell, what am I talking about "forced"? It's not like I did it on purpose. The fact that I'm not BBQ myself or being digested right now is a miracle.

However, despite his justifications he still felt guilty. No matter how he sliced it, he had killed someone. After a few minutes of solemn consideration, he noticed that the blood bag was empty. Unhooking himself, he took his left-over medical supplies and tossed them in a garbage bag. Picking it up on his way out, he snuck back to the employee lockers and stole a loose-fitting jacket to cover himself with before heading back out into the streets. Tossing the bag of drugs in a nearby dumpster, he considered where he could crash until sunup.

While Izuku searched for a bridge to spend the rest of the night under, a lone boat was slowly making its way out of Musutafu Bay. To the untrained eye it appeared to be no different then any number of the other watercraft leaving or entering the harbour, but this was no ordinary vessel.

For starters, it was heading out to sea without proper clearance from the harbour master. Such a transgression would normally result in the vessel being unable to leave port, however at the moment the harbour master was sitting at his desk with his throat slit and was in no condition to police the waterway. Even so, the boat should have been detected by coastal radar and left to the coast guard, yet the radar array had been unfortunately sabotaged mere moments ago. With the authorities preoccupied trying to direct the freighter traffic, and no available ships to intercept them, the tiny boat was able to slowly sail away from Musutafu and carry its passengers to freedom.

This was all to the exacting plan of the vessel's self-appointed captain who stood scowling at the helm, glaring at the distant coastline. Physically, the man was unimpressive. Short, paunchy, and with thick glasses, he appeared to be just an ordinary man, definitely not someone you would expect to be a supervillain. While he stood there in silence, a lanky black-haired man entered the cabin and hailed him.

'Well Doc, looks like your plan payed off. Lighten up, huh? We're free!' he said, grinning broadly.

'I will "lighten up" once we are at the safe house. Return to your station and monitor the area for outgoing radio signals.' barked the squat man without turning.

The black-haired man rolled his eyes. Spotting a pack of cigarettes tucked into a small tray on a table, he stepped across the tiny room and grabbed the pack. Plucking one out, he put the cigarette to his lips which immediately lit itself. Drawing deeply, the man held the smoke for a second before exhaling with relish. As the smoke reached him, the captain's scowl deepened but he said nothing while the black-haired man behind him continued smoking.

'Yep.' said the man, cheerfully, 'Tell you what, after spending four years in a rubberized, insulated cell it feels good to be out and about. To feel the air on your skin-'

The captain let out an annoyed scoff and turned.

'Your amorous musings of being a free man are wasted on me, Dillion. And I would question the validity of any such statement while we are being pursued. Further, I-'

At that moment the door opened again and a third man squeezed into the cabin. Standing at over six and a half feet tall, the large, muscle bound man towered over the other two and would have been quite imposing were he not clutching his stomach in distress. In one step he crossed the tiny cabin and over to a bench against the wall. Puffing loudly, he sat and looked over at the captain.

'Doc, why'd we have to take a boat? Why a boat?' he said queasily, 'All this rocking and sloshing– It isn't natural!'

The captain rolled his eyes. Turning away from him, he went back to guiding the wheel.

'I understand your reluctance to stray too far from land, Mr. Baker. However, this is the only means of escape that I was able to source from Herman. I realize the accommodations are not spacious, but they are only temporary I assure you. Herman guaranteed me that once he is able to establish contact with some of the old elements of his organization, we will have additional resources at our disposal.'

'Some criminal empire.' snorted Dillion, 'He controlled all of Musutafu and he didn't even have one escape route? If it were me, I'd have a yacht with a full bar, babes, and a mountain of cash, ready to go!'

The captain let out a disappointed sigh at his subordinate's stupidity, 'If we'd tried to be so conspicuous, we would have been caught in minutes. Think! Modest though it may be, this vessel is sufficient for our immediate purposes and is adequately nondescript. We must exercise discretion, or would you prefer to end up like our comrade Sytsevich?'

Dillion said nothing. After the six of them had escaped from Tartarus, Sytsevich had decided to run off and enjoy himself for a while instead of following the plan and they had been forced to leave the giant lummox behind. Later while eavesdropping on the radio waves over the city, he had intercepted a communication from All Might saying he had taken him out. Sytsevich may be built like a rhino, but he was also about as smart as one.

'We going to rescue him?' Baker asked in a surprisingly concerned voice.

'Perhaps.' said the captain coldly, 'If it is convenient. Once our notoriety has lessened and we can re-establish ourselves in Musutafu, I will worry about recruitment. For now, our small number lends us a distinct advantage.'

'Hm. If we're returning to Musutafu then that means we'll need to contend with Spider-Man.' Dillion said thoughtfully, 'Once he learns that Herman is back in town, he probably won't just sit on his hands.'

'We will deal with him when the time comes. He stands no chance against the Sinister Six.'

'Five without Rhino.'

'Yes, yes, I…' suddenly the captain went silent. Whirling around he faced his two men, a furious look on his face.

'Idiots!' he shouted and the two snapped up, 'Why are you not at your stations?! Go! Go, you miserable lumps! Is my genius labouring for nothing?! Must I always be burdened by your pitiful intellect?! Simple instructions! I give you such simple instructions, yet-'

Before he could continue his rant, the two men turned and fled out the cabin. He stared after them for a moment before turning back to the ship's wheel. As he navigated out towards the open sea, he began to lightly tap his finger against the steering wheel.

It didn't feel right. Fleeing his hometown like he was, but he had no choice. He needed to rebuild, reacquire resources, form strategic partnerships, and infiltrate the social landscape before returning to Musutafu. But he would be back. He promised the courts when he was sentenced to that hellhole that he would be back, and Dr. Otto Octavius always kept his promises.

Several hours later, Izuku awoke beneath the bridge he was curled up under to a trickle of dust falling on his mask from the rumbling traffic above. Yawning deeply, his yawn quickly turned to a groan of pain as his stomach tensed up. Reaching underneath his suit, he felt around his bandages but he couldn't say whether his injuries were better or worse.

Standing upside down, he looked out over the water and towards the city. Judging by the sun, it was probably nearing midmorning and his mother would be expecting him home soon.

As he clambered across the steel beams that intersected the bottom half of the bridge, he wondered how he would approach his mother with his injuries this time.

Maybe it would be better if I didn't say anything and just hope for the best. So long as she doesn't see my bandages, I should be okay.

Climbing between two girders, the too large jacket that he had taken from the textile factory suddenly got snagged on a loose rivet. With a sigh, he ripped the hem loose before continuing.

I'll need to get some new clothes before I head home. Mom'll probably ask questions if I show up wearing some random, giant, cigarette stinking, windbreaker.

Reaching the end of the bridge, he hopped down to the trash covered embankment next to the water's edge.

'Oof!' he exclaimed as he hit the ground. Even though he'd only fallen a few stories, his legs very nearly collapsed from the pain in his stomach.

Damn! I knew I should have taken some painkillers! Fuuuuck…

Regaining his bearings he scaled the trash covered embankment towards the street and waited. Once there was a break in traffic, he hobbled as quickly as he could across the road and into an alleyway that ran behind a row of small shops. He'd left his hoodie, pants, and shoes stashed by Dr. Akatani's hotel all the way on the other side of town and he'd need some fresh clothes before he went anywhere.

Walking through the alleyway, he came upon the rear door of a small clothing store. Glancing around, he nonchalantly leaned up against the door and listened. There were a pair of employees inside listening to the radio as they prepared to open for the day, but that was it.

This shouldn't be too hard. I'll just grab some pants, a hoodie, and a pair of shoes and be on my way.

One by one, he gripped the bolts securing the door to its frame and popped them off. Once the door was free, he propped it against the wall before entering.

Sneaking past a few cardboard boxes of loosely piled merchandise, he tiptoed through a curtained off doorway and into the store proper. As he entered, he spotted the two employees he had overheard standing by the store windows dressing the mannequins. Slipping between the aisles, he gave them a wide berth as his eyes darted over the labels.

Doesn't have to be anything fancy, just enough to get by…let's see…

As he quickly checked through a rack of hoodie's, the employee's conversation continued unabated.

'Did your power go out last night?'

'Yep. My alarm clock didn't go off and I almost overslept. You?'

'Mmhmm, my computer shorted out while I was doing my homework. Come Monday, I'm fucked.'

'Ouch.'

'Yeah…'

Should've bought a UPS my dude. Thought Izuku absently as he tried to decide between a red hoodie and a green one. Grabbing the green, he rehung the red hoodie before scurrying over to the men's jeans.

'Do you know why the power went out?'

'Nope. Was there a villain attack?'

'Yeah, there was. And get this, you know Spider-Man? Well he's dead!'

Pants halfway up his legs, Izuku froze and looked over at the two employees in surprise.

'Really? How'd he die?'

'Apparently he was messing around with some, like, high voltage wires or something and blew himself up.'

'Ha! What an idiot.'

As the two laughed, Izuku paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

I guess the authorities must have found Stain's body and assumed it was me. That's weird. The government must know better. What are they playing at declaring me dead? Maybe the media just screwed up…

'Anyway, what're you doing later? If you're already doomed, why not get drunk with me and the boys?'

While the two chatted, he finished dressing himself. Grabbing a pair of shoes, he snuck out the way he had come. Once he was outside, he calmly walked over to the subway and stole aboard the train back home. It was late morning by the time he finally arrived at his apartment. As he trekked up the winding staircase, his mind was busily thinking about what being "dead" meant. Everyone at the League of Villains knew that he was hunting down his copycat so it was unlikely that they would assume he was dead, nor did he want them to. After all the trouble he had gone through to get accepted by those loonies he didn't want them replacing him for the mission. What was more concerning was the government's stance. Did the announcement of his demise mean that the hero agencies had given up?

I guess I'll find out sooner or later. He mused as he at last arrived at his floor, I wonder if Knuckleduster thinks I'm dead?

At last arriving on his floor, he tried to walk as normally as he could to his apartment. Stopping outside, he did another last-minute inspection of himself. Just by looking at him, you would have no idea that he was injured. After combing his dishevelled hair with his fingers, he took a deep breath, opened the door, and went inside.

Walking in, Izuku greeted his mother who was busily ironing some clothes by the television. Lifting her head up from her work, she pursed her lips and gave him an appraising look.

'Good morning, Izuku.' she said stiffly, 'New clothes?'

'Huh?'

He looked down in slight confusion before quickly snapping his attention back to her.

'Uh…Y-Yeah! I, um, needed to…wash my old clothes but uh…The people I was staying with? Their dryer was broken, well not b-broken per se, just that the, uh, power was out so I borrowed some… clothes while they dried. Yeah.'

He cleared his throat. She was just looking at him; considering his words. There was no way in hell she was buying any of his story.

'A-Anyway, how're things?' he asked.

'Fine.' she said briskly.

'Good. That's…good.'

Izuku and his mother stood staring at each other for a few more moments before he cleared his throat again and began inching his way towards his room.

'W-Well, I'll leave you to it then. I'm gonna go…study. The end of term tests are coming up and I need to make sure I stay on track, you know? I-I'll be in my room.'

She opened her mouth to say something, but then appeared to reconsider. Instead she gave him a curt nod and returned to her folding. Sidling past her, he stiffly walked to his room. Once he had closed his door, he let out a long, hissing breath.

That was dreadful.

Going to his computer, he tried to sit at his desk but quickly stopped as he felt his stomach flair up again. Biting back a gasp of pain, he pivoted around and went to his bed instead. Easing himself down, he lay back and groaned.

As he lay back and tried to relax, his eyes went to his window. As he looked outside, he noticed movement against the glass. The spider was back and was busy spinning a new web. Watching it work, he let his mind go blank for awhile. Between the stretches of silk, he noticed the city starting up again. Despite the nightmare it had been through cars were pulling out into the streets and people were emerging from their houses to go about their business. Would they ever know about Stain? It probably didn't matter. Just like all the threats that had come before, and all the threats that were to come, life continued.

He closed his eyes. He would need to gather his strength. There were sure to be other villains out there and Spider-Man would need to be ready.