A Side XV
Eve frowned as the woman pulled back the slide on her gun. The name on her coat said 'M. Ramius'. She didn't look like a typical trooper. For one, she was pretty. For another, she seemed a little soft, despite the strong front she was putting up.
"Make a move, make a move."
The robots surrounded her. One held a bedpan over its head. The others guarded the gurney and glared with unblinking eyes.
It was ridiculous.
"What am I going to do?" Eve looked back and forth between the guards. "Make her invincible?"
"It's merely a precaution," Ramius replied coolly.
Eve scoffed.
Whatever.
She turned her eyes to the girl on the gurney. Not exactly her favorite person, but whatever. Truce, right? Besides. After this, she'd go free and Newtype could suck it. That seemed worth it after all the trouble the little bitch went through to arrest Victor just so she could draw Othala out.
Let the irony flow.
Eve raised her cuffed hands. The girl's costume covered most of her body but her face was exposed, save for the domino mask placed over it. One of the robots jumped onto the pillow, eyes watching.
Seriously.
Eve ignored it and touched one finger to the pale skin. She drew on her power, the small strings that ran along her mind. She plucked one, pulling on it and drawing the thread to her hand. Then she simply pushed, letting it flow into little miss super heroine.
She wasn't Panacea. Eve didn't see what was wrong with someone. She just tapped them on the cheek, plucked the right string, and let the regeneration do its work. Judging by the splint on the girl's leg, she'd broken a bone.
"Unless you want me here for an hour, the best I can do is get the bone stitched."
"How long?"
"Fifteen minutes." Her regeneration power lasted about five. Healed flesh wounds fast, but bone took time. Lots of time.
The woman's eyes glanced to Newtype. "Do it."
Eve avoided looking at the girl. Made her angry. She focused on the window, looking out at the dark night. The clouds had cleared, but there was still rain coming down from the sky. Floodlights, helicopters, and capes illuminated the sky and shined over Boston.
She'd been to an Endbringer fight once before, when Behemoth attacked Munich.
That was different. A trail of fire and death cut straight through one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Move over five blocks, and beside the smoke you'd never know a monster had marched through it. There were people going about their lives as normal within hours of the battle.
In Boston, you couldn't hide from it. The shattered skeletons of buildings in the distance, all their glass and walls torn away. Streets flooded in water. The hospital was accepting patients by boat. The power was out all over, leaving everything darkened and faded against the night.
Suppose that's why Behemoth was the 'Hero Killer' and Leviathan the 'Nation Killer'.
Eve applied her power twice more and withdrew her hands after the second.
"Done."
The woman, gun still in hand turned to her left. "Sergeant. She's done. Take her to the next patient."
"Ma'am."
The PRT trooper didn't look around the curtain, or move past it. Ramius motioned Eve and she moved. It suited her just fine. She didn't want to be around the little Jewess any longer than necessary.
The sergeant took her through the hospital. They kept all the capes in the same wing and under guard. Panacea was about but from what Eve heard, the defenders got massacred early in the fight. Leviathan pulled some kind of surprise attack and dozens of capes were gravely wounded, many of them Wards.
Eve did the rounds. That was part of the deal. She healed the injured and the PRT would let her go.
She just worked. They let her rest every hour for about fifteen minutes and brought her food. They never said how long they'd keep her, but generally the PRT kept to its word. So she kept working.
And a little over a day later, with the streets still filled with water and the hospital nowhere near as packed, they let her go.
"Here."
Eve took the offered bag and looked inside. Change of clothes and shoes plus ten dollars. Enough for a bus back to Brockton Bay. A small baggie contained the only personal affect she'd been arrested with.
Her wedding ring.
She smiled a little at that. Soon. Once she got back, she could get the Empire back into position and then they could free Victor.
"Deal's a deal," Rebound said. Some cape from Houston. "PRT won't consider it the next time you get caught."
"If," Eve mumbled.
"No if," he said with a smile. "When. We all get caught eventually."
Even rolled her eyes and the man chuckled. "Technically they wanted me to give you the reformed villain pitch, but I can tell it's a waste of time. So, off you go. Have a nice return party with all your Nazi buddies."
She would, and then she'd go get Victor out of prison.
Eve found a janitor's closet to change in. Someone left their coat inside and she grabbed that too. No one would miss it with everything going on.
The hospital cleared out a bit over the night as capes left and went home. Civilians continued to arrive, some who were injured during the waves that crashed into the city, and others from shelters that suffered damage. Most of the patients and personnel were near the front, facing the flooded part of the city where boats came and went with the injured.
She preferred to avoid the crowds, so Eve started working her way to the back of the building.
She saw some capes and administrators, a few PRT. None paid her much mind. There should be an area where the PRT, police, or National Guard were transporting people out of the city. It would be easy to get to Brockton Bay after that, or another city with someone sympathetic to the cause.
Stepping out the back entrance of the hospital, Eve saw only a few police guards managing a small number of vehicles. The hospital sat on a hillside and the streets behind it weren't flooded like those in front. Damp and wet, but not flooded.
She watched some of the cars and trucks, noticing people piling into the back. What she was looking for maybe?
Eve approached the closest and called to a man standing on the truck bed.
"Heading out of the city?" she asked.
"No." The man looked her over, which she ignored. Some things never changed. "We're heading east though, if you want a ride."
Good enough.
Eve climbed into the truck with help from one of the women in the back.
"We're looking for survivors," she said. "Anyone who needs help but got missed."
Bleeding hearts then. At least they wouldn't be suspicious.
Eve found a seat and relaxed as the pick-up idled for a few minutes before starting on its way. The city had power out to its west on the other side of the river, though it seemed sporadic.
While the streets weren't flooded, the tidal waves did a number on the buildings and the roads.
People walked in groups, searching vehicles and structures. The National Guard was out in force, with teams stationed at corners and markets. A few fires burned smoke into the air in the distance, and police cars would race by in their direction.
"Rough time?"
Eve glanced toward the woman at her side. "What?"
"Your hair's a bit of a mess."
Prison doesn't have stylists. "I've been up since yesterday."
"Same."
She'd look forward to a hot shower in private, without a dozen other women around to watch. And good food. And whatever remained of her bank account. PRT sometimes seized a cape's bank accounts, unwritten rules be damned. Had to fund the secret cape police somehow, which Eve always found somewhat ironic.
The truck turned at one corner, in the direction opposite the fires. The man in the passenger seat leaned around and shouted over the wind, saying, "There's some buildings that came down over off the turnpike. They need more hands."
"North or south?" someone asked.
"North."
"Accord's gonna be pissed."
Eve tried not to react to the name.
"I heard he lost a lot of his capes in the fight."
"He'll be more pisse—"
The truck came to a sudden and abrupt stop, throwing Eve forward with everyone else. They crashed together and then bounced back as the vehicle shook on its suspension.
"What the fuck?"
"What—"
"There's someone over there!" The driver's door popped open. "Come on. I see someone."
People started piling out of the vehicle while Eve got herself back up. She frowned, watching them run toward a collapsed storefront in a darkened street. The driver insisted he saw a light but Eve didn't see anything.
She focused on the highway and the massive traffic jam running the length of the side roads. She'd hoped to hitch a ride after this one, but walking might be faster. A shame the PRT gave her dress shoes instead of boots.
"We need help!"
Eve turned around, seeing someone waving at her.
"Help! She's buried in the rocks!"
Eve sighed. She wasn't a total monster, no matter what people thought. She climbed off the truck and walked over. A tree had crashed into a building, collapsing its front and spilling debris into the road. The volunteers moved rocks, trash, and a car door out of the way, revealing a woman in a yellow dress and a butterfly mask.
"It's a cape."
"Who is she?"
"That's one of Accord's capes. I've heard about her before. Citrus or something."
Citrine?
"Should we help a villain?"
"No villains in Endbringer fights but the Endbringers."
Eve stepped up more quickly. There was an idea. She didn't know Accord or the Ambassadors. They weren't allies of the Empire, exactly, but they weren't enemies either. A little help might get her a quicker ride home. And there was the matter of professional courtesy to consider.
The woman's eyes moved weakly. She was pale, and Eve noticed why. A concrete slab with three pieces of rebar pinned her leg in place, probably pierced her thigh and crushed the bone. It was a miracle she was still alive. Or a brute rating. Eve couldn't quite remember what Citrine's power was. Keeping track of capes in and around Brockton Bay was Victor's thing.
"She needs an ambulance," Eve said. "She can't be moved like this."
The volunteers all looked to her. The woman who sat next to her in the truck spoke up, asking, "You sure?"
Eve pointed to the rebar. "She might have a cut in her femoral artery. Pull the rebar out and she bleeds to death in less than a minute. Move her and her leg might get torn open."
"Shit."
"I'll go get someone on the radio. See if some EMTs or something can get over here."
Eve crouched down, telling the others to move back and give the woman some space. She didn't have much room, but she had enough. She reached out and pressed a finger to Citrine's collar as if to take her pulse.
The woman looked at her, face half swollen. She probably couldn't speak.
"Stay calm," Eve whispered.
She couldn't fix the rebar yet, but she could keep the woman alive. Maybe. She lost a lot of blood from how pale she appeared. Eve couldn't fix that. Eve's regeneration wasn't Panacea's ability to completely heal an injury. She could at least keep her from bleeding out more.
Eve pulled on the string and started to push.
Citrine jerked up suddenly. A scream escaped her throat as nothing more than wind blowing out of her mouth. She tried to rise one elbow pushing her torso off the ground.
"Stop!" Eve tried to push her back down, but fuck she was strong. "Don't move! Help me!"
The other volunteers suddenly crowded, all of them trying to push Citrine back into a lying position. The woman swung an arm and Eve felt her rib crack as she was tossed into the air and back several feet.
Definitely a brute rating.
Eve pulled herself up and cursed. She hadn't managed to use her power just yet. If the woman kept struggling, she'd kill herself.
Eve scrambled forward, trying to push through to get her hand on the woman's skin. Just a touch. It was all she needed.
Citrine continued to struggle, throwing one man into the air and twisting herself around.
Eve tensed. "No!"
Citrine pulled, the rebar tearing at her leg. She was strong enough to pull it along like nothing, but that didn't mean her body was strong enough to stay in one piece. Her leg tore, and Citrine fell. Blood spilled over a few volunteers, who cursed and fell back.
Eve fell to her knees, watching as bone, blood, and muscle all stuck out of Citrine's leg in a mangled display.
She pressed a hand to her throat and started to push.
Too late.
Eve spun. "Who said that?"
The other volunteers cursed and shouted. None answered her question. They crowded around Citrine, one pulling off his coat and pressing it to her torn open leg.
Shame.
Eve turned the other way, but no one was there. Just the woman and she'd heard a man's voice.
What's happening? – Where am I? – Hello? – Let me out – Fresh meat.
Eve glanced but no one was speaking. No, they were speaking, but they weren't the voices she heard. A stranger? A master?
"I think she's dead," the driver said. "Shit."
I'm not dead – Where are we? – Yeah honey, you are.
Eve tensed. She pushed herself away from the body, looking at Citrine's open and unmoving eyes.
I'm sorry.
...
Eve struggled to keep herself moving. She was so tired.
Pathetic – Weak – Take a shower.
Eve grimaced. Was that her thought or someone else's? It was so hard to tell now. She didn't know when she last bathed. A few days ago? Time was hard when she could never sleep. The constant endless chatter made it impossible to sleep. She'd wandered for what felt like ages, going anywhere but somewhere… Somewhere.
Someone shut the brat up – Turn yourself in – That won't work – Leave him alone – I can fucking smell her – Make me – What are you gonna do? Kill him?
She just wanted them to be quiet. She couldn't even keep track of them all. Maybe thirty?
Worthless – Not worthless – Unworthy – She didn't want to be – Ignore them – You can't ignore us – The Butcher can't be ignored – She could damn well try – Try and fail.
Not a monster. Eve repeated the words to herself. She focused on the mantra through the noise. Through the constant endless words that barraged her. Those words were hers. Those words were true.
She wasn't a monster.
Focus on my voice.
She did. Her finger tapped at the ring on her opposite hand. Her ring. Eve's. That's who she was. Not Nocturne. Not Foxtail. Not Magic Hat. Not Citrine. Not Quarrel. Eve. Othala.
Good. Magic Hat sighed. She was the only one. The only one in the storm that Eve found it easy to focus on. Now, keep going. There's a diner up here I know. The owner will give you something to eat.
Eve turned her head, but even looking around was hard. She could see just fine, but lack of sleep made her eyes heavy and her balance weak. She put one foot forward weakly, and then another.
Good, good. Magic Hat gave her a mental nod. Keep going, Eve. You have to keep going.
Yes. Keep going. Her new fucking cause.
She couldn't go back to the Empire. She'd already killed some homeless guy for no real reason… Though that seemed an odd thing to be guilty over. Maybe because she didn't mean to. She just wanted to sleep and he kept asking and pushing her. Wanting food or something. She only wanted him to stop.
She didn't mean to snap his neck.
That wasn't her.
She didn't kill people for no reason.
Says the Nazi – Seriously, what a hypocrite – I don't belong here – If anyone deserves to be here it's you – We didn't deserve this – You're a villain too – You're all weak – Not a Nazi – Well, as long as you're not a Nazi it's fine – I'm tired – Fuck you too.
Ignore them, Hat chided. Focus on me. Forward. Left. You don't want to hurt your friends, right? You're doing the right thing. Watch the curb.
Friends.
Were they her friends? She'd never really thought about it before. She took them for granted, but now?
Hookwolf was an asshole and a thug, and Stormtiger was a pig. Cricket wasn't any better. Krieg blathered on and on and never did anything. All talk and no action, not when it counted. Nessa and Jessica were pathetic, always pining after a man twice their age who couldn't let go of the ex who hated him.
Thinking about it, Eve didn't really like any of them. What a joke that was. She couldn't go back. She'd snap at any moment, she knew she would. She'd hurt them, but why did she even care? How long had she been in the Empire? How many years? Twelve years, give or take a few?
Twelve years and she didn't have a single person she really liked.
Except Ruth.
Eve never noticed. She only noticed the girl's silent misery and helplessness. The way she cringed during the forced dates and how she endured Hookwolf's violent outbursts. It was the life for her. She didn't have the stomach for it, but she had powers and powers might as well be a draft order in the Empire.
Maybe that's why Eve liked her. Because Ruth reminded her of herself. How miserable she was. How empty she felt.
Eve raised a hand and pushed the door open. A bell rang, and it sounded louder in her ears. She hated Nocturne's power. Made every noise feel like a drum pounding in her ear, and she didn't even see the upside. Super hearing and a sonic scream?
What a lame power. What a worthless power.
Fuck you too you kraut shit.
To the right, Eve. Eve turned her head at Hat's direction. That's Jim. Tell him Hat sent you.
Even stepped up to the counter. A family in a booth gave her a nasty look, the woman scowling at her ratty clothes, matted hair, and unwashed face. Eve ignored her, and the voices that told her to kill the woman.
Not a monster.
Jim, a large overweight man behind the counter watched Eve. "Can I help you."
Her lips were cracked and her throat dry. The words came out hoarse.
"Hat sent me."
Good, Hat said, good.
Jim gave her a suspicious gaze. Did he know Hat was dead? How long had it been since Boston? Eve didn't know. She wasn't even sure what city she was in.
"Alright," Jim mumbled. "Give me a sec."
That worked?
I've sent homeless folks Jim's way before, Hat explained, He's okay. Gives'um a meal.
Good for him – Food must suck – Anything is better than having to taste more garbage. Why do we still taste things? – My wife can cook. We could go there – Maybe she can fuck your wife while she's there – No call my house – Fuck you – I miss food – Because this is hell! We're in hell!
Homeless. Eve was homeless. That was so ironic she almost wanted to cry.
Pathetic.
Eve started up her mantra, ignoring the words. She wished they didn't feel so true. Worthless. Pathetic. Weak. Coward. Unworthy. She wished the words didn't echo in her head, leaving her to wonder how much she thought them herself.
What's that? Eve raised her head. Hat poked at her. Not physically, but mentally. A small push in her head. Right and up.
Eve moved her head, noticing the television in the corner.
Does that say Empire in the headline? – Bunch of weaklings – Fucking Nazis – Weaklings look for strength in color – I just want five minutes – Who is Newtype? – Brockton Bay cape. Tinker – Pathetic, like you.
Eve turned, blinking the tiredness from her eyes.
Empire and ABB war in the streets.
War?
Eve stumbled a few steps forward, the volume was turned way down, but Nocturne's power did have a use. She could just make out the report, though she felt like she missed most of it.
Hundreds arrested by Newtype. Hundreds? She had her suit back already? Had it been so long? How did she arrest hundreds of people? Eve watched, noting in one of the videos that played that there were two suits. Newtype didn't just have one suit back, she had two. How did she have two?
The headline changed the. Rune was arrested. Ruth.
Eve's fingers dug into her skin. It didn't hurt. She didn't feel pain anymore, and her skin couldn't be scratched. She just felt tired and hungry and—
She's a kid, Hat said. She'll be okay.
Would she? Making her a Ward in another city sounded like something the PRT would do, but that wouldn't be okay. She was a Nazi and everyone would know she was a Nazi. And she'd be alone.
"Here." She turned, eyes turning down to the plate Jim set on the counter. "Eat fast. I don't mind helping out my fellow man, but I got a business to run, got it? Don't linger."
Eggs and bacon, with toast and jam. Hardly a feast, but she was so hungry.
Eat up, Hat said. You don't want to be a voice in someone else's head. It fucking sucks.
…
She didn't even notice Jim was black for nearly two weeks. When she did, Eve found she couldn't bring herself to care. It seemed like another irony on the train wreck that was her life.
She kept going back because he fed her and dying of starvation sounded pathetic. Almost as pathetic as just being a voice in someone else's head. The lesser of three shit sandwiches seemed preferable.
She liked the TV too. She could watch the news, see if anything happened.
It was a way to live, she supposed. To keep going. To keep the Butcher contained.
A new cause for her to fight for. One that at least had some meaning to her.
"Back again?" Jim asked.
Eve nodded.
He grunted. The man never seemed happy to see her, but he never complained or refused her. He'd offered to drive her to a shelter, asked if she was hiding from another. She supposed she was but a shelter was just a place for her to accidentally kill someone.
She'd done it again last week. Some guy who thought she was homeless and easy to rape. She didn't feel so bad killing him, though. She didn't mean to but he brought it on himself. Bones were so easy to break.
She sat down while Jim started cooking, turning her ear to the TV.
"Continuing our breaking story," the reporter said, "War in Brockton Bay, and shocking video after Hookwolf allegedly attacked the independent heroine Newtype in her civilian identity."
Eve tensed and turned her head.
Impossible. Bradley wasn't that stupid.
"The PRT has already released several statements, including one accusing associates of the villain Coil of orchestrating the attack in order to frame the Empire for attacking a cape in her civilian identity, thus coaxing Newtype into defeating the Empire."
And that did sound like Coil.
"Celestial Being has yet to make an official statement but has publicly exposed the civilian identities of every member of the Empire Eighty-Eight in retaliation for the attack on Newtype. Viewers may remember several months ago, when Newtype threatened to do just that to any villain who broke the so-called 'unwritten rules.'"
Eve stared in disbelief. Their faces were all on the screen, and a note under those who were arrested. Max was the only one still free. Video showed Newtype fighting Nessa and Jessica in the street outside Medhall, and another showed her throwing Bradly into the building and dropping it on top of him.
She saw Medhall exposed on the news a week or so ago. Someone leaked papers and financials and exposed the connection. The PRT probably always knew, but the rules tied their hands.
And now they were all gone? All of them but Max?
Eve felt her heart quicken and her blood boil.
What are you angry for? You didn't even like them – Good riddance. Bunch of Nazis – Or maybe you did – Could have helped them with all this power – I want out. Someone let me out – Pathetic – Maybe you're the one that's broken – Stop it – She's a Nazi. Of course she's broken – Stop crying. There is no out. We're all fucking stuck here – Weak.
Eve shuttered and looked away from the screen as Jim brought her food.
It wasn't her fault. She couldn't have helped. She'd just have put everyone in danger. Even if she didn't kill them, once the Protectorate found out she was Butcher, Legend or Alexandria would come and—
"This just in," the reporter said, "The National Inquirer, a tabloid, has published the name and identity of Newtype. The name slipped online around the same time as the attack on her civilian identity. News organizations have been reluctant to report it until now."
The screen changed, showing the picture of a young girl.
"The Inquirer is reporting that Newtype is Taylor Anne Herbert, a sixteen year old high school student and Brockton Bay native. Her father is Daniel Herbert, a small figure in Brockton Bay politics and a member of a local union. Her mother, Annette Herbert, died in a car accident two years ago and was a literature professor at Brockton Bay Community College."
…
Eve started dropping by Jim's just to listen to the news. She could hear it from behind the diner if she focused Nocturne's power.
Crouched in a dingy alley, in filthy clothes, and hoping for some shred of information. It was pathetic.
Should stop repeating them so much, Hat said. It's bad for you.
Three days since the Empire was destroyed.
Should do something for yourself, you know?
Eve ignored her. The others were oddly quiet of late, save for the rumbling insults from the past Butchers. The real ones, not the others.
Come on, Eve. I'm trying to help you here.
She sat on the ground and listened, waiting for any news. She didn't like the Empire, she decided. She didn't like any of them, but they were all she had. All she had in her life that she could cling to. Without them, who was she? Some pathetic wretch too afraid of becoming something monstrous to do anything?
She'd been nothing but a cause once. Now she had a new cause, and nothing else. It's no less miserable the second time around.
So make your own cause, Hat offered. Pick something that matters to you and use all this power for it.
The Butchers started to murmur at that, their voices slowly rising. Eve focused on the TV, using it to distract from the noise.
"A series of intense battles out of Brockton Bay this week," the reporter said.
Eve raised her head. She'd been waiting for this. Kaiser had to do something. Without the others, he was a disgrace. Gesellschaft wouldn't come riding to his rescue. They'd look for someone else. He needed to rescue the others. Get them out of PRT custody.
If anyone could do it, he could, right?
Looking for someone else to save you? – Hope he fails. Fuck Nazis – We never went looking for help from anyone – They're not that bad – Some of my best friends are neo-Nazis, though these are more of those classic Nazi types – News is boring – We took what was ours – Why do any of you care? – I want my mom – Kid is crying again – All of you shut up for five minutes.
Eve focused harder. Why couldn't they all just stop?
"The transport of several PRT-held villains was disrupted by an attempted breakout, thwarted with the sudden appearance of Brockton Bay villain Bakuda, who the PRT say helped them transport her former gang leader. This is following expansive rumors that Bakuda turned on the infamous Lung, leading to the villain's arrest."
Kaiser failed?
"The scene became more chaotic when Celestial Being became embroiled in a nearby battle against the Dragonslayers, a villain group infamous for targeting Guild heroine, Dragon."
Kaiser failed.
Could have done something yourself – Ha! Suck it – My tears – You didn't do anything – Some friend you are – Eve, calm down – Who will free Victor? – Oh no, Nazis went to prison, I'm so sad – At least one good thing happened today – Can you imagine if this bitch was actually using all our powers to be a better Nazi? – Weak – Eve! – None of you understand power.
"The PRT in Brockton Bay was simultaneously attacked by the Undersiders, a small-time villain team known for robberies. Members of the team were arrested but details are still scarce. The PRT has confirmed that the local Ward team escaped the incident without serious injury."
Eve clung to the name.
Victor.
She tried not to think about him. If she did, she started wondering if she ever really loved him. Did she?
Eve!
They were right. She was weak and she was pathetic. If she'd just gone home, maybe things would have been bad, but she had so many powers now. She could have fought the Triumvirate if they came. She could have stopped Newtype. She could ha—
EVE!
The voice came out over the others like a storm, and they all seemed to silence for a moment.
Then…
Who are you? – All of you shut up – Imposter – That was different – How did she do that? – WHO ARE YOU? – SHUT UP!
Eve tensed, jerking to her feet as Hat shouted again.
Okay. Eve, it's not your fault. You didn't screw anyone over. Calm down. Breathe in, breathe out. In and out….
Eve breathed in and out.
She was right. It wasn't her fault.
Newtype was bullshit. How did she keep doing it? First the first suit, and then the second and the third and now a fourth? Eve wasn't a tinker but she knew tinkers. They didn't grow this fast. They didn't become this powerful this quickly. How was Newtype doing it?
She'd taken over the city in less than a year.
Probably has help, Hat said. It's not your fault.
No, it wasn't her fault.
It was Newtype's fault. Newtype who arrested Victor. Newtype who hunted her down. Newtype who sent her to jail so she could be in Boston so she could become trapped like this.
Fucking Newtype – Finally, something raw.
…
Eve ate her food slowly. Newtype was in the news again. Some story about how she'd been bullied by Shadow Stalker of all people. Once upon a time Eve would think that made her a real race traitor. A white girl bullied by a black girl? She should have been in the Empire.
But the Empire didn't exist anymore and it didn't matter.
Nothing really mattered but staying alive. Not becoming something else. Clinging to that one shred of her she had left. The only cause that remained.
Her thumb pushed at the ring on her finger.
"Another story just hitting our news desk. We have reports of an update on the attempted breakout late last night that left one inmate dead and the PRT at a loss for who was behind the event."
I can free him – Eggs and bacon for weeks – You don't even love him – Love is love – The jelly is different – I'm so tired – Go do it then – He's mine – I'm not helping with a breakout – He's mine – Eve, stop – How are you going to stop it? – Newtype will just catch you again – Newtype is strong – No she's not – Newtype defeated Lung – No she didn't – Lung? – How are you not paying attention? There's nothing else to do in here! – She's just a tinker – It's not your fault – She defeated Hookwolf[ – She's nothing without that suit.
"The inmate killed has been positively identified as the villain Victor, a member of the Empire Eighty-Eight arrested early this year by Newtype."
The spoon dinged across the floor, followed by the stool.
"Victor was killed in an exchange of gunfire between officers at the Buffalo Maximum Security Prison and two unknown capes who attempted to free him."
Hahahahahahaha! – I'm sorry – Because you did nothing – Eve – I'm not – Another dead Nazi, boohoo – That's her husband stop it – He's in hell too now – It's not your fault – Because you were weak – What happened – I'm not telling her – Victor died? – Bullet to the head was too good for a Nazi - It's not your fault.
Eve stared at the screen.
She'd forgotten his face. How had she forgotten his face?
He was mine.
"Hey, you okay?"
Her hand snapped out.
Jim hit the floor with a slump, head twisted around. Someone screamed and feet rushed for the door. Eve didn't care. Let the Protectorate come. It didn't matter anymore.
There was nothing left. She stayed away. She stayed away and what was the point? There was nothing left.
One hand clutched at her chest, as the pain ravaged her. She gasped, tears breaking from her eyes. Did she love him?
Who are you? – He was mine – You're not here – It's happening again – It's not your fault.
What was she now? She stayed away. That was the cause. Don't be a monster. Don't become something you're not. Don't be the Butcher. Protect the only thing you have by staying away.
For what? Why? Why did you bother? Why did you care? The Butcher takes what the Butcher wants. But she didn't want anything. It's not your fault. There's nothing left. Cry more. Take it. What are you going to do now? They weren't her thoughts and she knew it. What? She's fucking losing it. STOP!
"Back to our breaking story, we're now getting reports that one of the girls who bullied Newtype at Winslow Highschool was once her best friend. Fifteen year old Emma Barnes grew up with Taylor Hebert and for unknown reasons turned against her at the start of high school."
Eve's fist tightened and then loosened.
What was the point? The Empire was gone. Victor was gone. Why was she even bothering anymore? What was the point? What did revenge even matter?
Her heart sank. It was strange, feeling something after not feeling anything for so long. And more than anything, she just wanted it to end. No more feeling pathetic, worthless, and weak. A victim of what? Sheer coincidence that she stumbled upon the Butcher before some other cape?
She was so tired.
Going to give up that easily? Hat asked.
Eve stumbled back and slowly turned. The officer pointed a gun at her head, shouting.
What a joke.
A bullet wouldn't kill her.
She didn't know what could and even if she did die, what? She'd just be a voice… Though maybe that wouldn't be so bad. No more eating or enduring. She could just be.
You're really okay with that?
The officer shouted something again. The shouting, moaning, and complaining in her head drowned his words out. They never shut up.
He waved his gun at her.
Eve accepted she didn't care.
A strange feeling. It all felt lighter, the weight of it and the noise. Easier to see the line that was her from the line that was them, because her line didn't care. None of it mattered anymore. Not to her.
She didn't love him, she realized. Not anymore. Maybe never. It was just another cause she threw herself to. A reason to be who she was. Maybe that wasn't fair using him that way. Now he was dead.
The cause was dead, and with that buried, why go on?
The police officer stepped forward, his elbow hitting her shoulder to no effect.
She glared at the man, drawing on one of the many, many, strings. The man's gun dropped and he screamed. He fell back, gasping for breath and wailing.
Finally? – Don't – Going to finally grow a spine? – Don't listen to them – Hat, stop her! – You're killing him – The Butcher takes what she wants – Doesn't matter – That looks like it hurts – Is this the power you really want? – DO IT – Hat?
Eve counted the seconds. Five. Six. Seven.
Ten.
The screaming stopped. She pulled on another string, watching as the red and blue lines under his skin suddenly went still, and the lump at the center stopped.
The man slumped, eyes staring into the ceiling.
Ten seconds.
Eve raised her head, looking toward the window.
Some cop couldn't kill her. Who could? Another cape? Only a dumb one would want her dead. Or one who liked power. There was a way to find them, to make a scene so big that the PRT had no choice but to put her down.
Be a monster.
There were so many powers. Some seemed so present suddenly. The feeling of the ground under her feet. The lines in the bodies of those watching her. The sound of sirens in the distance. She tested each string, one at a time. Drew on them and tried to sort them.
There were so many, but she found the one she needed.
Eve focused. Pulled the string. She exploded onto the street and then turned her eyes north, toward the cause.
Arcadia.
She knew where that was and if she was going to be a monster, she might as well start with someone who deserved it.
It wasn't Eve's fault.
Taylor Hebert brought it on herself and outside of that suit… she was just a pathetic little girl with a sad story to tell.
Eve smiled at the irony.
