Step 8.7

It's amazing what a quick shift in perspective can do.

"How many did you get?" I asked.

Lafter paused for a moment, and then answered, "'Bout a few?"

I stopped mid-step. I quickly stepped out of the hall into a small alcove.

The nicest thing about a raid in a whole new city?

Not a single villain there knew my tricks yet. I got to bring out the golden oldies. Golden oldies like grabbing a bunch of cell phones, planting a worm on them, and raining hell on everyone's parades. Which worked even better if no one knew I was doing it, which is why Lafter and her Haro babysitter were supposed to go unnoticed!

Maybe that's what I get for putting Purple in charge?

"'Bout a few?" I asked.

"That's what I said."

"Numbers, Lafter."

"Eighteen," Veda answered.

My eyes widened. In a whispered tone I hissed, "I said be subtle!"

"We were subtle," Lafter said.

"Maximum stealth, maximum stealth!"

"How did you manage to get eighteen phones with 'maximum stealth?'"

"We came from behind!"

Of course you did.

"Veda, is there anything online about Lafter? Or Purple?"

"No."

Okay, maybe they'd somehow managed to go unnoticed while completely overachieving their objective. People happily reported cape sightings. If anyone saw Lafter or Purple wandering around Boston then the entire world would know by now. They'd been left to their own devices for a few hours. If nothing hit the net now, then nothing would.

"Eighteen?" I asked.

"Yeah," Lafter answered. "A lot nicer than the ones the bad guys in Brockton have too."

"Veda."

"I have access."

"Alright, then. Let's end a criminal enterprise."

I stepped out of the alcove and continued down the hall. Melding into the crowd was easy, though unpleasant.

Just my luck.

The number of people wanting to take the GED spiked this year. Winslow went down, so students were trying to take the GED rather than go back or shuffle into the other schools in Brockton. On its own, that might not be a big deal. Added up with all the damage to buildings in Boston, including schools, some kids from schools there were transferring to every city within a day's drive, even in other states, to take their finals and graduate. The local school board was in the middle of a scheduling nightmare and I spent most of the day waiting in line to get my paperwork processed.

However, when I walked out of the building I walked out with a date and time for my test. No more school for me.

On the way back to the factory I called Kati to make sure everything was set up.

"It's scheduled," she said, the sounds of movement and talking in the background.

"You're not going to lecture me on how this is a bad idea?" Adults usually do.

"It's a good idea from a PR perspective," she agreed. "It'll reinforce everything you want to say and make the message clear with actions as well as words. It will play very well. Just don't act smug when talking about it. People don't like smugness, especially in young women."

I nodded and continued into the workshop, avoiding the factory floor and the people working there.

"I'll be here when you arrive," Kati said. "They're clearing the helipad on the roof for you to land on. They insist they won't be responsible for your suit's security, but I suspect you can assure it yourself."

"I'll see you at"–I checked the time–"nine, then." I ended the call and set my phone aside. "Veda, call Ramius."

She didn't say anything and simply put the call through while I changed into my costume.

"Newtype," Ramius greeted. "You're ready?"

"Yeah. Lafter and Purple got all the information we need. StarGazer can forward it to you now." I paused as I pulled the zipper up on my costume. "Are you not going to tell me this is a bad idea?"

"Well, for once you've bothered to fill us in before doing something," she said. "I'm simply taking that as an improvement. It's also not a bad plan. Director Armstrong is completely on board. You can probably guess Piggot is less enthused."

I pulled my mask over my head and climbed into Astraea. I did a quick check of the modifications I'd made for the mission. The gangs gave me all the tinker time in the world. I used it.

"StarGazer will be sticking around in Queen. If anyone tries anything, she'll smack them down."

A risk to be sure, but one I could take. The Empire had fully retreated into the shadows over the past week, and the ABB seemed to be having some kind of internal struggle. The Merchants had collapsed completely when Trainwreck lost control of his own splinter group, and the Undersiders were very good at staying under the radar. The gangs must know how fast I could move, though.

A simple trip to Boston would not signal anyone to do whatever they wanted.

Precaution never screwed anyone, though.

"Armstrong is informed," Ramius said. "The Boston Protectorate is ready."

"I'll be there in eight minutes."

Veda opened the garage door and I guided Astraea out. I rose quickly, but kept the GN drive's output low. Even if people saw my suit leave the building, they would not know where I was going. Not until I wanted them to anyway.

Shock and awe, and all that.

I turned Astraea southeast and flew over the bay. I kept the speed low so the light from the GN drive didn't reach the ground. In the dead of night my suit easily vanished in the sky.

Once I got over the water, I turned east, and went over the Rig. Once I passed the Protectorate base, I dove and stuck close to the water. As Brockton Bay's lights faded in the distance, I turned north and accelerated. The water around Astraea kicked up and sprayed as I shot forward. The air boomed and I adjusted my course before locking the controls.

"I'm on my way, Lafter. Protectorate is informed. Get in position."

"Roger, roger," she cheered.

They won't see this coming.

I busied myself during the trip with some odds-and-ends. Lafter and Purple collected some cell phones earlier in the week, and Veda accessed several computer systems to gather information. I reviewed for any gaps in my plan, but there didn't seem to be any holes. Really, the bad guys kind of did half the work for me by making everything so easy.

I reviewed the interview questions briefly. I expected to hate the entire process, but it needed to happen. With the dismantling of a criminal gang as a prelude, I could really get my point across, though. That made me a little more confident. Sense of control thing I think.

Astraea completed the journey to Boston in a few minutes. I decelerated and rose, hiding my suit in the sky.

It is a shocking sight, and I say that having seen the city while Leviathan was tearing through it.

The shoreline and bay area remained flooded. Boards and tarps covered the sides of buildings and windows in Downtown, and cranes dotted the rooftops. The top of one skyscraper remained suspended in the air, wedged between two other towers with yellow tape cordoning off the entire area.

The city seemed alive, though. The lights were on. Cars went up and down the roads. People walked the streets. Life went on.

Boston sat in an odd place after Leviathan.

The Teeth lost Butcher. With the infamous villain yet to reappear, the remaining gang hung in a state of disarray. Since the Endbringer battle They mostly fought among themselves since the Endbringer battle. Blasto continued keeping to himself. He actually didn't have much of a criminal record, all things considered. Part of me wondered if he simply ended up a 'villain' because his power reminded people of Nilbog.

Leviathan gutted Accord's Ambassadors. While Accord recruited a few new members since, the recruits failed to hold back the advance of Damsel's thus far unnamed gang. He lost territory every day as she pressed against him and perpetrated a crime wave through the city. Damsel of Distress stood as the rising power in the city, taking advantage of the death and disarray in other major gangs.

A few smaller gangs occupied the city.

Purity's group kept to itself. Not one of them had committed a crime in the past year, and the few times they showed up they showed up to fight another villain group. Crimes aside, yes, Purity seemed serious about turning herself around and she brought Crusader, Night, and Fog along for the ride.

Besides them, groups like the Red Hands didn't pose much issue. Really, they seemed more like Boston's version of the Undersiders. They focused on petty crime, didn't hurt anyone, and had enough wisdom not to piss off the heroes. So, not completely like the Undersiders. Bitterness aside, the Red Hands represented much lower stakes crime than the likes of Damsel's group.

"Show me where everyone is."

Veda highlighted several points on our makeshift map of the city. We improvised it more than our Brockton Bay map, but it worked. She marked each of the points, naming the capes present.

Ashely Stillons made a name for herself long ago. She fought in the so-called 'Boston Games.' Boston was one of the first major American cities to see the rise of large, organized, parahuman gangs, and when they rose, they fought for dominance. Damsel didn't last long in that fight. She fought alone and she lost to the Teeth and Accord. She clearly learned a lesson from that experience.

Damsel's group consisted of about nine capes, most smalltime criminals she drew into her orbit when she came to the city two months ago. Some had potent powers from what information I gathered, but they all failed to make much impact until she gathered them. It was a large number of capes, but they had a critical weakness.

Their info-sec sucked.

The ABB used a structure that made tracking their capes hard. Skidmark's Merchants purposefully used chaos to obscure their activities. The Empire policed its members and tried to keep information within specific circles.

Damsel's group didn't do any of that. I barely needed to fish at all. Veda found all their capes in a matter of seconds and fed the locations to the PRT. Even if a mole wanted to rat them out, it wouldn't matter. They didn't have time to run.

"Where is she?" I asked.

Veda highlighted one building, Damsel's name marked on the side. Two other capes stood with her, Striker and Goof. Their names were dumb as fuck, but they both possessed capable powers. The data gathered from Lafter and Purple's captured cell phones also indicated at least a dozen unpowered henchmen also at the location.

"Lafter, are you ready?"

"Yup."

She sat just down the block from Damsel's location in a van.

"Put me through to Armstrong." Veda connected me, still silent. "Director?"

"Newtype," he greeted. "You're here?"

"About four thousand feet up and avoiding the airport," I replied.

"The traffic controllers have been advised," he said. "They think we have one of our fliers up there."

Smart. "Is the Protectorate ready?"

"We're in position," Recoil answered. "The Wards are on standby, just in case."

"We shouldn't need them." I unlocked Astraea's controls. "Forecast predicts that things get messy if we don't capture at least half the capes in the first ten minutes. If we do, the rest scatter."

"We've targeted Lockshot, Grief, and Vambrace," Recoil said. "Lightning and Rile are en route to Damsel's location to help secure her."

As I said, it is amazing what you can do when you reorient yourself. Shift perspective a bit and you notice all kinds of things, like how disorganized a newly formed criminal gang surging on the weakness of its enemies can be. Or, how easily old tricks might work on the unprepared. Or, that in one fell swoop you, just might end organized crime in a city in a single night.

I failed to produce the conditions in Brockton Bay as I intended, but in Boston? Leviathan made those conditions for me. If Damsel of Distress wanted to play the 'let's take advantage of Endbringer battles' game, well…she picked the rules.

I switched to the sonic cameras and gave the building a once over. I identified everyone inside, checked for traps, and picked a point of entry.

"I'm starting. Laughter!"

"Finally!"

I pulled on the controls.

Astraea burst into light above Boston, diving toward the ground and shattering the sound barrier around her.

I swung the GN blade out and threw my feet to the ground. My suit brushed against the street, four red lights halting all traffic passing through the intersection around me. I charged forward through the wall.

I wish I could describe the look on her face. Easy to see while she forewent a mask. Being outed, she probably didn't see the point in using one.

I caught her sitting on a love seat drinking wine in an overly elaborate dress. Her head snapped around as I came through the wall, long platinum blond hair whipping around her slender shoulders. Her eyes didn't seem to recognize me, holding a simple expression of 'what the fuck.' The glass remained firmly in her hand, rim against her lip, while dust and GN particles spilled through the room. Her hair snapped back when I came to a sudden stop, and then snapped in the other direction as I slammed the GN blade's blunted edge into the couch and threw her into the air.

She threw her arm out as she flew through the air and her power fired.

She missed me entirely.

The blast tore through the room, twisting the floor and walls. The effect almost gave me a headache. The wave twisted everything, including light and even sound as it ripped through a ten-foot cone to my left. The force of it threw her falling body higher into the air before she unceremoniously smacked into the ground, hair and limbs every-which-way.

"The fuck!" She scrambled as she rolled over the floor, stumbling to her feet and glaring at me with wine spilled across her chest. "You—"

And that is when Lafter brought the butt of her saber down on the woman's head. The taser I'd built into it—yey tinkering time—sparked and crackled, and Damsel's eyes went wide. Ashley Stillons fell forward and hit the ground with a 'clunk.' Lafter followed the blow up with a kick to her jaw. Purple jumped in as she went limp, grabbing one of her wrists and planting herself on the woman's back.

Damsel didn't move while Purple bound her wrists. Between me tossing her in the air and Lafter hitting her in the back of the head, she definitely had a concussion. She'd be out long enough, and by the time she woke up her arms would be fully restrained by Purple.

As the PRT's now public file on her said, Damsel's power didn't work very well when she couldn't move her arms.

Damn this is disgustingly easy.

Lafter and I turned to the rest of the room, meeting the stares of a dozen armed men, a few women, and two capes. Maybe. Veda read off their weapons briefly, and identified three more men approaching the building from another across the street. They wouldn't be a problem. I focused on the capes, who both wore what could generously be called costumes. Striker and Goof wore windbreakers, running pants and shoes, and bandannas over their faces. One wore all green, and the other all blue.

Veda identified the cape in green as Striker and the one in blue as Goof.

They stood around the room in groups, all apparently in the middle of things other than guarding their boss. A few gathered around a huge wide-screen TV, and a few others played cards in the opposite corner of the room. Two lay on the ground next to a door hanging on one hinge. Lafter crashed through it when she charged into the room and knocked them both over in the process.

"I don't suppose you want to surrender?" I asked, placing Astraea between them and Damsel's prone form.

The guns went up.

"Okay then."

I raised Astraea's pistols.

The bullets began flying, the room lighting up with the flashes. Lafter ran out from behind me, spinning on her heel as a bullet went past her. Striker turned toward her and raised his fist in a punch. I shot him in the side and he fell to one knee, and when his arm started to swing anyway I shot him in the chest.

His fist fell forward. Air exploded from the hand, cracking in waves that shot across the room and threw five men into a wall. I shot him five more times just to keep him down, and turned my guns on Goof.

I fired, a stream of beams striking his form. He didn't stop, or even slow down.

Lafter intercepted him, swinging both her sabers at him. One struck his neck and bounced off, and the other hit his thigh. He wrapped an arm around Lafter and pulled, his body contorting inhumanly.

"Whoa!"

Lafter flipped through the air and hit the ground with her hip. She rolled into a crowd of armed men. Half of them pointed their guns at her. Two jammed, one misfired, and another missed from three feet four times before she threw her foot between the shooters legs and jumped to her feet.

Goof kept coming at me, throwing one of his arms back. The limb stretched like a rubber band and snapped forward with lightning speed. I felt the blow on Astraea's stomach. I swung the GN blade down at his arm, but the limb snapped back and my blade hit the floor.

Goof jumped. His body bounded through the air and he tackled me. I turned a pistol on him and shot his head, but that didn't work either. His arm twisted unnaturally around Astraea's and pulled.

He really is a rubber man.

It's strange to watch. Bones do not twist that way and then twist some more in a completely different way.

The arm-wrestling match felt rigged, cause no matter how I pulled his arm just contorted to remain locked around mine. It didn't stop me from moving, but it did slow me down. Bullets bounced off his body as readily as my armor, but if Striker got back up before Purple finished tying his wrists behind his back, it could be a real problem.

If only I could have seen such an annoyance coming.

I pressed a switch on my left controls.

Steam billowed from my suit and heat coursed over the surface of the armor. The external temperature of my suit spiked and Goof's hold on my arm vanished. He screamed as the burst of hot air rolled over him and fell back. I pressed a foot against his chest to pin him in place, and turned Astraea's freed arms to fire on a trio of men entering the room through another door.

Lafter spun in a melee with the rest, knocking the men down and out one by one.

I held Goof down, steam still fuming from Astraea's surface. Goof tried to get out from under me, but being rubbery didn't grant super strength.

I shot the guards by the door Lafter came in from, and she finished off the remaining men in the middle of the room.

"Time!" She shouted when she finished, her hands going up to the ceiling.

"Thirty-two point eighteen seconds," Purple chirped. "Thirty-two point eighteen seconds!"

I rolled my eyes and let them have their fun.

Lightning coursed through the room, and a man emerged from the bolts.

Lightning wore the kind of costume you'd expect of a hero with his name. Yellow and blue, with little lightning bolts along his arms and legs. A visor covered his face, his hair swept back and ears covered by muffs. He reminded me a bit of Legend actually, but he managed to make the similar look his own with the bolder colors.

Another cape came in behind him. Rile wore a black and red costume with bulky attachments on his arms and legs. Not sure if they were cosmetic or served any kind of purpose. All I knew of his power was some combo of combat thinker and mover.

Both Protectorate capes looked around the room.

"Wow," Rile mumbled. "That was fast."

"Thirty-two point eighteen seconds!" Lafter cheered.

"She's timing herself now," I explained.

"And she's not"–Lafter pointed a saber at me–"which means I win!"

"Best time," Purple declared, "Best time!"

Lighting and Rile both stared.

"You get used to it." I looked down at Goof. "Feel like surrendering yet?"

He squirmed beneath Astraea's foot. Hard to see his face with the steam billowing around him, but going from room temperature to 'sauna' in a few seconds cannot be pleasant.

"Surrendah!" Pretty sure he was nodding. "I surrendah!"

"Great."

I released him, and Rile came over and dropped a confoam grenade at his side. Striker got the same treatment, and Lightning moved toward Damsel.

"One second." I turned and shot her twice. She screamed and jerked. Her power fired again in a short burst directly behind her. "She was playing possum."

"Precog," Lightning mumbled. "Right."

"Damsel of Distress, Striker, and Goof are captured," Rile said into his com. "Got a dozen goons with them. It's all clear."

"StarGazer, all clear in Brockton?"

"Clear," she answered.

I raised my brow at the response, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.

"Wha—"

Lightning interrupted me. "We've caught Lockshot and Vambrace. Grief is in a running fight with Recoil and Celeste."

Troopers lifted an encased Damsel off the ground and carried her out of the room. Striker and Goof followed, with Rile sticking close to the latter two. Lafter and Purple walked a few steps behind the troopers with Damsel, and others gathered the unpowered henchmen together and cuffed them.

"Right," I said. "One second."

I started to float back, but Armstrong came over the line and said, "Let them handle it."

I paused, saying, "We need Grief to reach the halfway mark."

"It'll be fine," he replied. "Grief is a subtle stranger, but he's not a real threat on his own. They can catch him with the rest of the group in disarray. People need to believe the local Protectorate can handle criminals, even if they need occasional help from someone else."

I hesitated. It went against my natural instinct, but…"Fine."

I set Astraea's feet back on the ground.

PRT troopers piled into the room moments later, two squads emerging from unmarked vehicles outside.

It honestly was disgustingly easy.

If Boston weren't in such a worn down position after months of battle with the Teeth and the injuries from Leviathan, the locals probably could have toppled Damsel themselves. No organization, no attempt to obscure their activities past the most basic things.

Still, so easy.

Part of me wondered if maybe I pulled my punches too much in Brockton. Could I have done more if I pushed harder sooner? Maybe, maybe not. I didn't have Lafter when I first started, or another suit for Veda to operate.

The expansion gave me so much more latitude to operate as I wished.

I spent some time checking over the online response. Typical "omg this just happened" comments, followed by doubters, followed by pics, followed by baseless speculation. Suspiciously, the first pics to show up on some of the threads were picks of the three capes Lafter and I captured with cat ears photocopied onto their heads. A few videos popped up of my dive into the city, but none that got a good look at me. Other posts recorded the capture of Lockshot by members of the Boston Protectorate.

"Figures."

Nothing about any of my local villains popping their heads— Why am I double-checking?

I switched to a private line and asked, "StarGazer, is everything okay?"

"No change since previous query."

That's not what I asked…

As the PRT loaded the prisoners into transport vans and drove off. I followed from above, flying a few feet over the convoy as it drove through the streets.

I didn't notice. How did I not notice? Was it the rush to put a sudden realization into action? I planned everything so quickly, and the pieces all fell together so rapidly. The opportunity of a lifetime fell into my lap and I wanted to seize it. If Damsel's group collapsed, who did that leave in Boston? A leaderless Teeth, a crippled Ambassadors, an ambivalent Blasto, and groups like the Red Hands and Purity's defectors?

Sure, crime would still exist in Boston, like anywhere else. Nevertheless, Damsel's gang would collapse as Forecast predicted it would, if it lost enough members. If we succeeded then we'd wipe out large-scale, violent, parahuman crime overnight. The city would go from hobbling between crises to peace in an instant, and if the Protectorate took a proactive stance they'd be able to keep outsiders from disrupting that new status quo.

I saw the chance and I wanted it.

Did I just, miss it in all that rush?

Veda had been so quiet the past few days. I had seen her shy, and sure, she tended to be a bit of a wallflower when dealing with people 'face-to-face' but she'd never been 'quiet'. She'd been short, and curt. It didn't come out in her tone of voice because Veda didn't really know how to do that, but her responses usually came in more words.

Even looking at her code on Astraea's visor, something seemed wrong.

Maybe my imagination, but her processes seemed slower and a bit more scattered than normal.

I initially tried to shrug that off as the PRT trucks turned toward the Boston HQ building, but…No.

Something's wrong.

"Veda?" I asked.

No answer.

Something's really wrong.

She didn't seem to be under attack. Her hardware checked out okay. My connection appeared solid. The Haros weren't downloading five thousand copies of Bejeweled again because they couldn't stand how much slower other computers were compared to them and kept 'clicking' the download button over and over.

I kept looking for some technical problem right up until the convoy pulled into the PRT building's garage.

More troopers waited inside, the Wards standing behind them to the side. The police cars pulled up first and went past the line of waiting troopers. The armored vans came in behind them and turned around in three-point turns. Our van parked in the back of the garage quietly, and Lafter hopped out with Purple.

I turned my attention to the Wards, waiting on standby as Recoil said.

I recognized none of them, having only met Weld before. Well, and that spider-girl who saw my face fuck.

She—Weaver—stood behind the others close to an exit door, and she must have felt me staring at her or something. She pulled her hood down over the top of her mask and looked away. Huh. Maybe she felt embarrassed about seeing my face before?

I looked her up after the battle. Paranoia. The PRT didn't advertise her much, and she'd yet to have any official debut. The online profile built for her listed her power as "bug control." Maybe the local PR department didn't know how to market someone who controlled insects. I found it odd how she'd never appeared in public, and she stood apart from the other Wards. None of them gave her a look or anything.

Was she shy?

Lightning and Rile stepped out of the lead truck and stood next to Armstrong as troopers lifted Damsel out. Containment foam encased her entire body, save for her eyes and some of her hair. Kind of necessary when someone's power was 'swings arm and twists reality.'

The momentary distraction pulled me out of my fit.

Damsel of Distress built a reputation early in her career. Having seen her power myself, I did not doubt its potency. Strange then how she never managed to establish herself, though. She retreated to Stafford after Accord drove her from Boston. She only occasionally came out of that small city, as if to remind people she existed and nothing else. She never seemed to get very far in any city she went to. Kind of a testament to Boston's weakened state that she managed to get any foothold at all.

The PRT payed for her living expenses in Stafford, which struck me as odd even with the hope of recruiting her.

Added onto that weirdness was the look on Armstrong's face as the troopers carried her incapacitated form out of the van.

"Hello, Ashley," he said. The troopers turned and started carrying her toward a pair of doors with more troopers. Lightning and Rile followed them as they hauled her away, and Armstrong's eyes remained locked with hers. "I'm sorry."

I stared, waiting until she left earshot before asking, "You're sad?"

Armstrong looked up at me.

"You didn't know her when she was young," he offered. He turned his eyes back toward her as other teams of troopers carried Striker and Goof. "Her power made normal life impossible."

Uncontrollable. I read it in the PRT file. She got upset easily, and when she got upset, her power tended to fire off with even slight movements.

"I wanted to help her," Armstrong continued. A somber tone entered his voice, and he added, "She kept digging herself deeper and deeper, until now. She has nowhere left to go. It didn't have to be that way. So yes, I am sad."

I saved my sympathy. In the past month alone, two people died and eighteen got seriously hurt because of Damsel of Distress and the people she gathered around her. She jumped into the city in the middle of a war against the Teeth and threw everything into chaos. She followed it up with using an Endbringer fight to weaken her enemies.

Technically within the bounds of the rules? Probably. Still put a bad taste in my mouth.

I glanced back at the Wards.

Weaver retreated further behind the others, almost out of my sight. I considered mentioning something to Armstrong. Maybe a face-to-face to talk about what happened? I decided against it. My face hadn't leaked anywhere, or my name. Of all people, a Ward should be able to keep that secret. I didn't know what I'd say to her anyway.

The whole thing would probably just be horrifically uncomfortable.

"What about Grief?" I asked.

"Recoil and Celeste are bringing him in now," Armstrong answered. "I admit I'm a little shocked how well this went. The information you provided covered all the bases we needed."

"StarGazer does that." And now I'm back on that, fuck.

"It was my pleasure," Veda said through Purple, which I realized was about as many words as she said to me all day.

Armstrong looked down at the Haro and thanked Veda, while Lafter looked around the garage.

I was still debating what to do about that when Armstrong revealed, "There's a press conference within the hour. Do you want to be present?"

And there's that, shit damn it.

"No," I said. "My, um, Kati"–Armstrong raised an eyebrow–"scheduled an interview with some reporter." I checked the time. "I'm supposed to go there before I'm late."

"Well, you are entitled to your own arrangements."

He sounded a little concerned, but I didn't see any need. My plans did not include bashing the PRT on national television. Not tonight at least. I wanted to go straight from a city changing arrest to making my 'purpose' clear to everyone.

"I should go," I said quickly. "Let me know if there's any problems."

Lafter had somehow walked over to the Wards at some point and asked if they had PlayStation, to which one of them nodded.

She'll be fine.

I set off and left the garage, turning west toward the address Kati gave me.

I debated as the clock ticked and I neared my destination. I'd given myself enough time to complete my busting of Damsel's gang and escort the captured to the PRT, but I didn't leave myself that much time. The interview was supposed to start in fifteen minutes, and being early is supposed to be the best practice but Veda was acting weird and I didn't want to ignore it when the interview was supposed to last as much as three hours and—

I took a deep breath.

I hesitated for a moment, but honestly, fuck it.

Some things are too important to wait.

I turned Astraea toward a building and landed. I powered down the GN drive, crouched low to be a little more out of sight, and said, "Veda, what's wrong?"

She didn't answer at first, and as the seconds neared a minute since I asked my question, my heart started to race.

Shit, is this what it was like when I was giving her the silent treatment?

It felt like ants in my stomach. Lots of little ants crawling around in circles, tickling. I didn't know why. No, no I suspected why. I just didn't think of it until the quiet moments before Veda answered.

"I am perturbed," she said.

Hearing her say anything sent a wave of relief through me, followed by uncertainty and more fucking ants in my stomach.

"Perturbed?" I asked. "Why?"

Silence again. I shifted uncomfortably, but Astraea does not have much wiggle room on the inside.

The thought occurred.

Have I pulled a 'my dad?'

"I have spoken with Dragon about her creator," Veda said eventually. "She describes her feelings toward him as resentment."

Well, that made sense? My dad went behind my back on a thing here or there and that infuriated me. Dragon's tied her up with chains, stripped her of her free will. Pretty damn heartless, even by rotten parent standards. To make it worse he apparently made no plan whatsoever for the eventuality of his dea—Shit, I pulled a 'my dad.'

My stomach–ants and all–sank.

"I do not mean to say I resent you," Veda clarified. "I do not. I am frustrated."

"No, I"–she might resent me, and she doesn't want to–"Shit."

She expressed concern I would do something 'unnecessary' and I turned right around and did it without a thought. Everything kept falling together, and I realized I could topple Damsel's entire group in one swoop, and I just forgot, didn't think.

"I'm sorry, Veda. Fuck."

"I have not meant to be so withdrawn."

"I'm a teenage girl, Veda. We invented the silent treatment." I didn't even notice. It's been three days. "I'm sorry…"

After a moment, I looked at the clock and told it to fuck off. I powered down the GN drive and set it to standby.

"You will be late," Veda pointed out.

"Then I'll be late." Some things are more important. I'm not pulling a repeat of my Dad and putting this off until it boils over into real resentment. I inhaled and repeated myself. "I'm sorry."

Sounded like a broken record.

"I—" Veda stopped, her processes shifting. "This is not what I intended."

"I fucked up," I admitted, still spilling my ant-filled guts out apparently. "I got so caught up in what I could do here, I didn't even think about how it must have looked to you. You wanted to warn me off. I went and took it as an idea to do something."

"The plan worked," Veda said. "Boston is now absent any large organized parahuman gangs."

I shook my head and mumbled, "But it's the principle."

Veda cycled for a moment. "Yes. The principle."

I saw the thoughts vaguely in her code. I didn't read them so much as know they existed. She wanted to say something, but didn't know if she should.

"There's no other way to have this conversation than to have it," I said.

Veda thought a little more. I waited.

I felt pretty damn dumb. A power that makes you 'smarter' sure is useful when it only teaches you science. How did I wrap myself up so much I didn't even notice Veda was upset? Hell, how did I miss she was upset at all? Six months old and already able to give the silent treatment. That's kind of a big thing for an AI–my AI–and I fucking missed it!

"I do not understand why," Veda said.

"Why?" I asked back. "Why what?"

"Why does it have to be you?"

Not sure why that question hit me so hard. It felt like a punch to the stomach. I knew those words. I repeated them in my head after mom died. Why did it have to be her? Why did she have to die? Why couldn't it be anyone else?

I mulled over what to say. There's no way to make it sound better in some parts.

"So much has changed," I said. "Since this all started."

I raised my head and looked out over Boston's ruined skyline.

"I don't know why it has to be me. There are other people out there who see what I see."

Relena Peacecraft, Trevor, and Ramius just to name a few. Maybe Armstrong too, I thought. The way he looked at Damsel and the pain in his eyes when he said the words 'nowhere left to go.'

"I have this need in me. I don't know. Desperation? I have to do something. I have to act. I lived a life where no one did anything and I didn't matter and I can't go back to that…But I've said that before."

Saying it again isn't good enough.

She didn't want an excuse. She wanted an explanation.

There really is no way to say it but to say it.

My parents never taught me this lesson. I learned it, the hard way. Maybe that's unfair to them. Not like mom planned to die, and I wasn't a 'child' when she did. I didn't know if I should call it shock or a lack of maturity, but we never talked much with our extended family. I barely knew my grandparents, and they never seemed to want to know me. Maybe it's unfair to lay it all on Veda.

"I'm not going to be here forever," I admitted.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

That's—fuck.

I didn't know what the right words to say were. That just left the truth and fuck am I sympathizing with Dad right now?

I lived in a tiny little world with only a few people that mattered. It fell apart so quickly, and all it left me with was the walls that surrounded us all.

"I'm going to die, Veda."

Her response was immediate.

"Why?"

"Because I'm human. Today. Tomorrow. In fifty years. Someday, I'm going to die. Sooner rather than later, probably."

I closed my eyes. Damn emotions.

"And there's too much. The world is too broken. Even if I fix Brockton Bay, or Boston, or New York, or the fucking Endbringers…There's just too much. The Slaughterhouse Nine. The Blasphemies. Blue Cosmos. Nuclear weapons. Yangban. Nilbog. The Sleeper. Africa and South America. Whatever the fuck is going to happen that I don't know about. My life isn't long enough, even if I beat the odds."

I never planned to get so attached.

"But I don't have to be afraid of that"–I smiled weakly, unfairly–"because I made you!"

Her processes spun again. I never admitted it. Not to her, or even to myself. I got attached, far more than I expected. I told her I wanted to be her friend, but that was a fucking lie. If I wasn't her mother, who the hell was?

"You aren't going to run out of time. You can finish this, however long it takes. Maybe it isn't fair. I made you the way you are. I made you to want to help people. I—I took that choice from you"—oh god damn it Richter—"because someone needs to carry on when I'm gone and I don't know anyone else but you who can do it. Who can finish it."

Having it off my chest, I felt lighter. This had been building for a long time. Veda wanted me to be safe, and that simply wasn't possible. She accepted that a long time ago I think, and I shouldn't be asking for more. I shouldn't have expected her to just accept it without telling her the truth.

What else is there to do? I'm not perfect, and so much had changed since I began. I didn't see any other path. There is no other choice. Not for me. And, how fucked up is that? Veda feared my death, I knew that ages ago and now I knew she felt frustrated about my attitude, and my excuse is 'sorry, but this is what I made you for?'

I beat back the urge to cry.

That's fucked up. It's not how things were supposed to work, but I never planned for it to happen. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

I inhaled, and tried to think of something to make it better.

"I'm not saying that this is something you have to deal with right now, but it's going to happen someday. And I'm worried, but I'm not afraid. Dinah will be okay. Lafter will be okay. Trevor"—stopped myself right there—"might need a little help. When it happens, I know it's going to hurt. But you're going to be okay. I know you will."

Because I'm okay.

I raised my head at that thought.

Am I?

When my mother died, I never thought I'd get over it. When Emma betrayed me, ruined my life, I conflated it. Dad became distant. The walls of my peaceful world tore away, and I connected all of it to mom dying. She died and my life unraveled but…I'm okay.

I wasn't perfect. I had my problems, my hang-ups and my traumas, but I carried on. I kept carrying on. I think that's all anyone in the world can do.

I gripped the controls.

I forced the steel into my voice, the determination and the certainty that came from my soul.

"I wish I could promise you that I'll always be here, but I can't. I wish I could make it more fair, but I can't."

The GN drive started up, and I pushed Astraea to its feet.

"There's a world in my mind," I mused. "I can't see it, but I feel it. The pieces are there. The solar furnace, the Haros, the Helpers, you."

Astraea lifted off the ground and shot into the air.

"I didn't know you when I made you. I didn't know you'd grow so much, so quickly. I didn't set out to make this so hard for you, or me. I don't want to drop all of this on you, Veda. I don't want to leave, but I will no matter what I do…And everything I achieve now, in the time I have, is something you don't have to. A battle you don't have to fight without me."

Veda went silent, processing my words.

"I'm sorry this isn't fair," I pleaded, "but I believe in you. I believe you'll finish what I'm starting and change the world when I'm gone. And if we're lucky, that won't happen for a long time. Until then, this is the only path I have. I'm sorry."

The apology felt a little hollow, but I didn't know what else to say.

I finished one step tonight. One more to go.

I turned towards the tower and landed on the rooftop helipad ten minutes late. There were people waiting when I climbed out of Astraea, including a very short man who seemed rather irate.

"You're late!"

I didn't get a chance to respond before he started ushering me to the door.

"Let's go! Hurry! Hurry! We were supposed to be on the air already! Do you know how many complaints we've gotten!? I had to talk to some lout from Missouri! Missouri!"

I did not get a chance to react to whatever that was.

The man rushed me into the building and I was surrounded. Someone patted some kind of powder on my face, and someone else started messing with my hair. I put a stop to that, but while I shooed the mangler away from my hair someone flashed a light in my face.

I knew I was going to hate this.

The short guy directed people around me, calling out names and telling people to move lights and cameras.

"Five minutes!" He shouted. "We're already behind hurry it up!"

I glanced around as people rushed about the room. It was dark mostly. All the lights pointed at the raised stage with two chairs and a coffee table.

They seated me in a chair and pointed a bunch of lights at me.

"Newtype, you made it."

I raised my head as people continued fussing around me.

The woman sat across from me in an identical chair, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap. I'd seen her on TV before, but couldn't quite remember her name. Tall with shoulder length brown hair and sharp features. She wore a baby blue jacket over a beige blouse and brown slacks. People fussed around her too, but not as much as they fussed around me.

She introduced herself as, "Kinue Crossroad." Oh right, that's her name. Could swear I've heard it somewhere else though. "A pleasure to meet you."

"H—Hi?"

She smiled. "It's okay to be nervous. You can't possibly be worse at this than Armsmaster."

My eyes scanned the room. Were those cameras on?

"You said it," I replied, "Not me."

"We got a report the Protectorate arrested Damsel of Distress and several capes affiliated with her. Is that your doing?"

Don't piss on the PRT, don't piss on the PRT, don't piss on the PRT.

"I helped. We helped."

To be fair, Armstrong was a lot more accommodating than Piggot.

"Hmm." She reached over to the table between us and took up a clipboard. "I think someone said something about pictures of Laughter on PHO."

"She's playing PlayStation with the Wards now." Shit, should I have said that? Did I screw it up?!

Kinue laughed like I told a joke.

Roll with it.

I did not prepare for the mood whiplash of pouring my heart out to Veda followed by walking into a room full of cameras.

The people fussing over me eventually relented, and I quickly needed to fix my hair after some asshole got to it and tried putting it over my shoulder. I spotted Kati just off the stage to my left. She nodded in acknowledgment when I looked at her. The short man, still irate, said something and Kati gave him a stern look and said something back. Didn't hear what, and I never did learn to read lips.

I settled into my chair and waited.

I worried about Veda. She continued processing, and I kept her code line running on one side of my visor. I didn't know if what I said helped her understand. It certainly didn't make her feel any better.

Shit, did I screw up again?

And I started sympathizing with Dad, again, because fuck this is hard.

"Five!"

What?

The short guy held one hand up, with his thumb folded in.

"Four!"

Are we starting?

"Three!"

Fuck!

"Two!"

I'm not ready!

"One!"

His hand came down and pointed at me.

This was such a terrible idea!

I swallowed and looked at the woman sitting across from me.

She gave me one last smile and looked at the cameras. I kind of blanked out for a moment because oh my god I'm sitting in a chair and people are watching me from thousands of miles away. I'd never been the best at public speaking, but I'd never been terrible at it. Then again, I'd also never been on TV before. I mean I have been on TV but cell phone videos people took of me and pictures and stuff aren't exactly the same thing as sitting in a chair in front of a camera while some woman talks and I can't hear her because my heart is pounding in my ears and—

sys.v/ I believe in you

My jaw slackened.

What did that mean?

I mean, obviously it meant 'I believe in you' but in what context? Did she trust me? I, oddly, didn't feel very trustworthy at the moment. Did she understand what I'd said? I felt like a bit of a bitch, and all I did was tell the truth. The truth as far as I understood myself, anyway. Did she just want to assure me in a situation she probably knew I found uncomfortable?

"Newtype," Kinue began, "there's one question everyone wants to know the answer to before any others."

It's a good thing my visor completely obscured my eyes. Slightly watery is not a good look when trying to project confidence. I already missed her entire opening somehow, so asking her to repeat her first question would be really pathetic.

I looked at the camera, but I kept my face pointed toward Kinue. Kati said I should avoid looking at the camera and not at the interviewer. Something about the fourth wall? Not sure how it applied.

"Why are you a hero?" she asked.

I really hope that's her first question.

I practiced my answer. Kati worked with me to get it right, and I liked the one we came up with. It felt true to how I felt, but didn't come off quite as crazy as 'because I hate the world around me.' We practiced saying it so I'd be ready when the question was asked.

And I still felt terrified of answering.

"I'm a hero because"–my voice stammered for a moment–"a hero can make the hardest choice more easily than some random school girl ever could."

"A choice?" Kinue asked. Her smile didn't falter, but her eyes questioned.

sys.v/ I will be okay

I smiled.

"To refuse to be a bystander."