For anyone curious about why I'm now posting entire arcs in a day, that's because I'm finally at the point where I can just copy-paste off SpaceBattles because that's the most current version of the chapter. No more having to load anything up off my computer and then move it over. S'very nice.
A Waken 13.12
Use me, she said.
I still heard that thought. Felt it. I had no idea what it meant.
The weird thing about killing someone is that nothing is the same. Except everything is exactly the same. Except someone's dead. And you did it and that's different.
After getting out of the shower, I grabbed my phone and dialed.
I received no greeting when Therapist Amy answered, just, "How are you, Taylor?"
"I—" I didn't really know what to say. Nothing actually felt all that wrong. I felt fine. Which did feel wrong.
"That good, hm?"
I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn't want to cry again. There was too much to do for me to start crying. "Yeah."
"Want to talk about it?"
No. "Yes."
"I can make time today."
"I have to do something today. It's…too important. I'll beat myself up more for missing it."
"Do what you need to do. The first step can be a hard one but you got it. On to the next. Tomorrow. Your father should bring you, but he doesn't have to stay."
I nodded to myself. "Okay."
"When I was in school, my academic advisor told me everyone has a little 'I want to save the world' in them. I think you can relate to that more than most." That's one way of saying it. "Then she told me it's good enough to save just one person."
"Tried that. Didn't work."
"It's okay if that person is you, Taylor." Oh. Mrs. Knott said something like that once, didn't she? I wondered where she was. "You're going to be alright for the day?"
"I—Yes."
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay. Bye, Dr. Dylandy."
Lowering my phone I inhaled and started fixing my hair.
"I think that was very brave," Veda said.
"Yeah."
A shame someone was fucking dead. Two hundred forty-seven someones. Two hundred forty-nine including Noelle and Gloria. For some fucking reason, capes didn't get included in listed casualties unless it was an Endbringer fight.
Putting my costume and my visor on, I grabbed my phone and left my room.
I really had worked too hard—Trevor and everyone else too—to let today be ruined.
"Ready to go?" Dad asked as I descended the stairs.
I stopped and looked at my father. He stood by the doorway in his jacket, keys in hand. Something was different. He'd been oddly…supportive, the past two days. Not in his usual 'not really helping' way either.
I blinked at the keys. "Are you driving me?"
"Is that alright?"
"I guess."
He nodded and started toward the back of the house as I stepped onto the floor.
The TV was on, though muted. The headline read "PRT Under Fire, Chief Director Walks out and Arbiter Resigns." I'd watched it live last night. Alexandria and Rebecca Costa-Brown on the same stage to prove they weren't the same person.
What a farce.
Any cape worth their salt knew Masters, Strangers, Tinkers, and even Changers and Breakers existed. Any one of them could potentially fake the two women being on stage. The Simurgh may have compelled Noelle's actions, but they were not a lie.
Just looking closely between the two women, they were eerily similar. The same height and build, and I knew plenty about using clothes and costume choices to obscure those things. Same skin color. They were different, sure, but different in ways that could be faked or obscured easily. There were a lot of powers in the world.
Noelle's statements had dominated the news since she made them. The trigger event too, but mostly everyone was focused on Cauldron and the accusations of corruption within the PRT and Protectorate. Alexandria and Rebecca Costa-Brown being the same person wasn't just unethical, it was illegal. The PRT was supposed to oversee the Protectorate, not be run by one of its top members.
Blue Cosmos had honed in on that, and they had a lot of media presence. Whenever accusations against them came up they just badgered whoever asked with nonsense.
It was only then I realized the Simurgh's little bonus scheme.
The moderates were dead. Most of them anyway. Xavier Londo. Daniel Hue. Carl Jaeger. All the ones who opposed Azrael and his faction were killed when that trigger broke.
How incredibly convenient.
Fortunately, my plan with Faultline went off without a hitch. She attacked Mockelburg's warehouse and the cops found his big stash of guns. The news was still circulating, but I'd seen a few reports where people were coming back to what Noelle said.
Schwartz Bruder might need to intervene on that front and speed things along. I refused to let them gloat over this.
At the back door, Mikazuki sat where he usually did while waiting for me. He took the whole 'keep the tinker alive' more seriously than ever now. He usually didn't come by unless I was going to school, but he'd shown up over the weekend since Hartford.
"Mikazuki," Dad greeted. "Come on, you can ride with us."
The boy came into the house behind Dad and followed him to the front. We all got in Dad's junker truck—Mikazuki being small actually made it easy for him to squeeze into the puny back seat—and Pink and Green jumped in with us.
Dad started down the road. The drive wasn't long, though something felt off about going to such a big thing in my father's truck. Suppose it would have felt just as weird going on a bus though.
The weird feeling persisted the entire ride.
He hadn't asked about Noelle at all. When I came home, he just hugged me and said nothing. That was nice but it's not the reaction I expected when I arrived.
"You can let me off up here," I said as he pulled into the lot. "Trevor and Theo should already be there."
Dad brought the car to a stop, and I got out. Mikazuki and Green followed, while Pink stayed with Dad.
"I'll find a place to park," he said.
"Okay…"
Definitely weird.
"He's different," Mikazuki commented.
"I noticed." Maybe I should call Armsmaster. Heh. Again. Yeah, great—I shut myself up.
Behind me, Brockton General loomed. It was a big day, one months in the making. The world didn't stop because one day turned to shit. I'd talk to Amy tomorrow. For now…
I glanced at the boy beside me. A few people on the street noticed us, but none were close. Technically, we did have some time. Trevor wouldn't arrive with the Helpers for a few more minutes.
"Mikazuki… You've killed people, haven't you?"
He tilted his head and looked up at me from the corner of his eye. "Yeah."
"Can I ask why?"
"Hmm." He looked ahead, hand reaching into his jacket and fishing for something. "Lots of reasons."
"Like what?"
"They were gonna kill me, or Orga. Someone. Sometimes because they did. No one cared when we died. I didn't like that."
To protect the people in front of him and revenge. "Does it hurt?"
He went quiet, pulling a candy from his coat. He unwrapped it slowly, pulling away the foil.
He lifted his hand and held the candy out to me. "You're not like me."
I blinked, looking at his palm. "How do you know that?"
The news had been vague about how Façade died. None of the reports mentioned that she set herself up to die. They only explained that Miss Militia's life was in danger, and I killed the evil Simurgh victim to save her. No one was blaming me for it.
They called me a hero for killing someone whose only real sin was trying to save the helpless and failing at it.
"Because it hurts you," Mikazuki answered. "So you're not like me."
Except it didn't hurt. It sucked. Twice now, someone came to me to die. First Othala, and then Noelle. One I subjected to a fate worse than death, and the other I actually did kill.
"Why doesn't it hurt you?"
He didn't answer at first. He unwrapped another chocolate, and as this thumbs undid the wrapper, said, "It's the only way I know how to live."
Killing to live? To survive. "That doesn't make you sad?"
"Orga's going to take us where we belong. If it means the others can get there too, I'll do whatever it takes."
It occurred to me that Mikazuki admitted to murder, but I didn't have it in me to do anything about it. I knew why he did it. Chalking him up to some run of the mill criminal despite everything wasn't fair. I'd killed someone too now, and I could only imagine those he killed were more...
I closed my eyes and breathed.
The world wasn't what it used to be. It was changing rapidly. Somehow, it kept getting worse.
The PRT and Protectorate were truly doomed now. There was nothing to do to save them. Noelle's actions took something that already seemed predestined and threw gasoline and a match at it. Another reason I didn't have time to wallow in self-pity. We needed something to rise from the Protectorate's ashes. Sooner, not later.
In light of that, there'd be more kids like Mikazuki. Whose fault was that really?
I closed my eyes for a moment. "Man of few words, then?"
"Not much to say. You're a hero. I'm not."
Well, that's nice. Few words indeed, but I could read between the lines and see he was trying to make me feel better... I think.
Time to go inside and be a hero.
Turning toward the hospital, I started toward the front doors. Mikazuki followed behind me, popping the candy into his mouth without comment. I spotted the picket line as I got closer to the doors. A group of about twenty, holding Blue Cosmos signs and chanting at a line of police.
Shockingly, finding out someone was plotting a damn race war was encouraging to some people. The presence of a few poorly hidden E88 tattoos in the bunch I found even less shocking. Once a bigot, always a bigot maybe. They just found some new target to rail against.
And of course, as I passed in sight of that line they got louder.
"There's one!"
"You will not replace us!"
Seriously, did Blue Cosmos just mimic the normal racist catcalls but at capes? Fuck, was 'cape' going to become a 'race' in a few more years? Was it already? Just another way the world was rapidly changing. Another line to divide people who were already divided.
I tried to push that out of mind. There was already too much going on between the guilt, the self-pity, and yet another headache. Today meant too much to let myself become further distracted.
I walked through the front entrance of the hospital, drawing more than a few eyes as I crossed the small lobby. At the front desk, a nurse rose and led me through a series of halls and elevators. They'd been waiting for me, and when I got to the ward, Theo was talking with a man I assumed to be Jacob Vienna.
Theo noticed me first, leaning around the man and saying, "Morning, Taylor. Sorry about what happened in Hartford."
"It's fine," I lied. "Today is too big to be spoiled."
The doctor turned, giving me an assessing look that felt rather judgmental. Dr. Vienna was about my height, but more than twice my age. He looked it too, with some wrinkles starting to gather at the corners of his mouth and eyes and some gray in his hair. I suppose he managed to make it distinguished rather than 'old.'
"Newtype," he greeted. "Or do you prefer your real name?"
"Newtype is fine while I'm in my business suit," I offered.
The man looked past me and gave a long glance to Mikazuki. That got me to look at Theo. Theo shook his head, as if to say not to worry. The guy used to be in league with Empire, so I worried a bit anyway.
"We have the room set up," Vienna explained when his attention turned back to me. "Chariot arrived a few minutes ago with the device and I was able to find a few residents to help with the demonstration. A few observers are here too. Interested parties and some of those you invited I guess."
I nodded. "Lead the way."
Vienna led us down the halls around to the back of the hospital. Being inside, I couldn't help but think of Boston. This was different of course. Calm and routine, with no blood staining the floors or screaming for help that couldn't come.
If Leviathan hit Brockton Bay, how many would die? Hospitals were built to handle crises, but not entire cities being destroyed. Staff would be overwhelmed. People would die solely because the people who could help them couldn't reach them.
How many died in Hartford because it took hours to cut them out of the Silver?
Shino stood in the hallway ahead, arms crossed. He greeted Mika and gave me a thumbs up. Mikazuki stopped and waited with him, looking up and down the hallway as I followed Vienna and Theo inside.
Inside the room, Trevor waited with five Helpers, Yellow and, "Charlotte?"
She turned to me and held up her phone. "Kati said to get some video for later."
The room looked like a lounge of some kind. Chairs and tables, a small kitchen, and some vending machines. There was a half-open door leading into a locker room. Some medical equipment rested against one of the walls, and a crowd of people milled about.
Vienna introduced three residents who looked to be in their early or mid-twenties, and one a bit older. Besides them, there were about thirty people ready to watch the Helpers succeed or fail. A few of them introduced themselves, shaking my hand and saying how excited or skeptical they were. Kai Shiden, an executive from a company subsidiary to Yashima, was among the latter.
"Are we bringing Panacea by, in case this goes horribly wrong?" he asked with a lazy grin.
"I didn't think it worth calling Panacea," Vienna disclosed. "It doesn't sound like your robots can actually cause a medical emergency aside from not working."
"They're actually hypoallergenic," Trevor replied. "Seemed worth it since clean rooms are important in hospitals." He nodded to the motionless helpers. "The exteriors are specially coated too. They'll need to be cleaned but gunk won't stick to them."
One of the residents, a girl introduced to me as Addi, asked, "What's the difference between those ones"—she pointed at the Helpers—"and that one?" She pointed at Yellow.
"Haro smart, Haro smart," Yellow answered. Green jumped in the background by the door, saying the same thing.
"Basically that," I added. I spotted Dad standing in the hall with Mikazuki and Shino. "The Haros are capable of coming up with creative solutions to new problems. The Helpers can't. They're designed to fulfill basic functions and help in emergencies. The upside is they can be mass produced."
"An ambitious achievement."
I turned, looking at Armsmaster as he stood by the doorway. He lingered for a moment, looking at Mikazuki and Shino outside, Dad, then at Theo and Dr. Vienna inside.
"Apologies," he said. "I was curious to see the results of your efforts, if I may."
My brow raised behind my visor.
"The hospital has to inform the PRT when doing these kinds of things," Vienna explained. "It's pretty normal for a tinker to come by and watch."
Great, Dragon was right. The PRT could make my life more difficult.
Armsmaster turned away from me for a moment. "Chariot."
"Um, hi."
Oh right. Trevor only met Armsmaster the one time and they didn't really talk at all. My history with him aside, he was one of the Protectorate's most famous heroes. Was I that over getting starstruck when famous people hit the room? Seemed like not that long ago it still surprised me how Alexandria was right there.
Then again, now I knew Alexandria was corrupt so…yeah.
"Well, we're ready to start when you are," Dr. Vienna said. "Please. Walk us through these devices."
I turned to Trevor and nodded.
He raised his arm, turning the wrist up and tapping at a small screen attached to his gauntlet. His armor was one clearly designed for tinkering and moving rather than fighting. Mostly because it lacked actual armor. Some components were exposed or lacked apparent backups. The arrangement wasn't practical for a fight.
Topical to think about, given what I'd just said outside. Trevor didn't fight crime or commit crimes, and the entire way he built his tech reflected that. It was purely utilitarian in design.
"Alright," Trevor announced. "Activating."
The robots' eyes flashed yellow and they started moving. In place at first. Each turned, scanning the room with their eyes and then facing Trevor.
Turning to face the gathered onlookers, I steeled myself. Part of me nagged, asking why I was here after Noelle and all those other people died. It didn't seem very heroic.
I told that part of me to shut up. We'd worked too hard, and there was too much good that could come from this to fail now.
"The Helpers are a variation on my robots," I explained. Over Trevor's shoulder, Green and Yellow waved. "With help from a group of capes called the Foundation, Chariot and I have devised a means of mass producing these machines and maintaining them."
"No one will need either of us to repair them and keep them working!" Trevor clarified.
I nodded. "All some would need are spare parts. The components themselves are decipherable by an engineer. And that means the technology will be more widely available and easier to use for everyone."
"For now, we're focused on medical care." Trevor waved to Addi and she came forward. "Even well-funded hospitals are understaffed and overworked, and we want to help lighten the load."
Picking up, I elaborated, "The Helpers are a flexible and adaptive robotic system that can perform basic tasks, monitor patients, and in an emergency, get help or instruct others in how to help."
With help from the residents, Trevor showed off a few different abilities.
"Helpers, training mode."
One Helper responded. "Simulating, simulating."
Addi was first, a test in how the Helpers dealt with diabetic shock.
"They have a cartridge built into their frames," I explained. "These can be loaded with medications for the patient prescribed by a doctor. The Helper is able to apply these medications or help the patient monitor their dosages."
One of the Helper's demonstrated, popping out an empty and needleless syringe that could inject insulin into a diabetic, or any number of other medicines.
"Comparatively, it's a bit expensive for a diabetic," Trevor added. "For someone with a chronic condition or in long term care however, the Helper could make their life a lot easier and feed a stream of data to doctors and nurses."
Next we showed their visual abilities, namely that the Helpers could distinguish figures.
"Simulate villain," Trevor said with a nod toward me. Immediately, the Helpers stopped talking. They grabbed their 'patients' by the ankle of their pants and started trying to lead them away from me. "There's potential for the Helpers to be of great use in crisis situations, but we're still a bit off from that."
I followed one of the Helpers around, and eventually it stopped trying to get its resident to flee and instead got them to sit. Sometimes the best thing you can do with a villain is hunker down and be as uninteresting as possible.
"Mostly, we just want to show how they can tell people apart," I said.
Yellow jumped off Trevor's shoulder and knocked into one of the Helpers. The robot spun off, hitting the wall and then the corner of the room. In ten seconds, it navigated the maze of people to find its patient.
"They can also call the patient's doctor," Trevor pointed out. One of the Helpers called him then and he held up his phone. "They can recognize sweating, jaundice, necrosis, and any number of other visual cues that something isn't right. When the problem isn't something they can do, they seek out aid."
One of the resident's laid down, simulating a 'fainting spell.' One of the Helpers immediately went to one of the watchers, pulling at her pant leg and pointing her to its—
I blinked as the girl started moving.
I knew her.
She looked nervous, pulling a hat down over her eyes while an older woman beside her said, "Go on, Sarah. It could be life or death."
Sarah. Did I know a Sarah?
Behind me, Trevor kept talking. "The Helpers are programmed to guide people through CPR, setting a broken limb, or even using a defibrillator. Some things they can do themselves, like treating an open wound, but others take more weight than they can apply."
Still staring at the girl as she was guided through CPR, my jaw slackened and Veda confirmed the suspicion on my visor.
sys.v/ Tattletale
My gaze switched to the older woman. She watched me, a small—very familiar—smile on her face. I'd seen her before too. How did they get in?
sys.v/ I can account for all persons but the Sanc Kingdom's representatives
Sanc. I remembered them. They were one of the parties Yashima invited. Another country that desperately needed medical support in the wake of the Endbringers. I didn't bat an eye at it, but Tattletale—and that was absolutely Tattletale—and the older woman…
Sanc.
I was so stupid.
The Simurgh's attack on Sweden. The appearance of Relena Peacecraft. Sam Stansfield's assassination.
Lafter was right. If she knew half of the things I did, she would think I was a psycho. I was feeling psycho putting the pieces together, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew and the more I knew I didn't know.
What could I do in a room of people? Why was she here and flaunting Tattletale's presence? Why appear unmasked and incognito?
"Could they work a crash cart?" one of the residents asked.
While I stood in place trying to figure out what to do, no one really noticed. The Helpers had their attention.
"They can," Trevor answered. "As we showed before, they can recognize discrete objects and follow instructions. Give them a bunch of medications and ask for one specifically, and they'll find it."
That seemed to get the residents interested and they started asking more specific questions.
Stepping past me, Armsmaster asked, "Is it possible to observe the internals of these machines?
Shit, right. Armsmaster was in the room.
Now what? Did I call her out? That would go well. I'd just tell Armsmaster she was part three of a global conspiracy, the part I knew next to nothing about. That would make me sound insane. Or maybe it wouldn't. I'd all but admitted to believing in Cauldron to him, and thus far no one from the PRT or Protectorate came to ask me about it.
Maybe he kept that to himself.
Maybe I could trust him. Maybe trusting him would get him killed. Or maybe not trusting him would get him killed.
I really didn't need this right now.
Tattletale worked her way toward me when attention shifted to Armsmaster and Trevor discussing the construction of the helpers.
She stopped a foot away from me, hands at her side where I could see them.
"Don't make the same mistake you made with Façade."
My blood boiled.
She walked off, circling back around the group to stand behind Count.
I felt like walking over and punching her for that comment, but not here. They chose this moment to show up on purpose, because I couldn't do the first thing that came to mind and punch Tattletale in the face and make Count talk. No, I had to wait. Which gave me time to think and calm down.
"What would be the unit cost of these?" Kai asked. "How expensive are they compared to more conventional monitoring equipment."
I looked away from Tattletale's unbruised face and focused. "Depending on economies of scale and how much we can pump production, about three hundred fifty, to as low as two hundred fifty."
That got heads turning.
The cost of a lot of conventional hospital equipment ranged between six hundred and three thousand dollars. The monitors being used for the demonstration cost four times that much. Hospital equipment was overpriced. That whole supply demand thing really kind of stops working when the supply is whatever the manufacture says and demand is 'buy it or die.'
That wasn't entirely fair. Medical technology regulations were labyrinthine. Being a tinker let me sidestep a lot of them. All those pesky laws that made commercializing tinker-tech so hard also exempted it from a horde of other, more mundane, laws. All of that came before considering how easily superpowers let two teenagers and some scientists create a cutting edge marvel in a few months in their free time.
My lack of interest in being a millionaire—ironic, since I was one now—let me drive the price further down.
"I'm very serious," I explained. "Materials for these machines are not hard to come by. The equipment that makes them requires Chariot or I to maintain, but the Helpers themselves are mundane mechanics, right down to their code. If we supply spare parts, any electrical engineer could keep them running. In time the design itself can be replicated. The only really complicated component is the battery."
"Will you be selling overseas?"
I turned my gaze on Count and tried not to scowl.
"The Sanc Kingdom struggles with shortages of trained medical personnel. These don't appear a capable substitute, but they would reduce the strain on what professionals we have."
"I'd have to look at the EU's laws."
"No, you won't. Technically speaking, Sanc is not part of the EU. I'm certain Ms. Relena would be very content to advocate for these devices to the assembly and get any red tape cut. We're willing to take the risk for the potential benefits."
Heads turned her way, because that was all but an offer to buy.
An offer to let me spy even.
Surely she wasn't naïve enough to think I wouldn't slip something into a few Helpers to let me poke around her corner of Sweden. What the fuck was she even doing there? Teacher was off hatching plots and convoluted schemes, and she was just sitting in a rebuilt city playing bodyguard.
I didn't see the angle.
Narrowing my gaze at the opportunity, I said, "Let's talk. After the Q&A."
She smiled at me.
Vienna spoke up. "What are the potential malfunctions? Not to suggest things will go wrong, but things always go wrong."
I focused on the questions and waited.
Armsmaster asked more questions about the design, most of which Trevor was able to answer. People came to me with questions about service models and production and delivery. Between the agreements with Tekkadan, Turbines, and Yashima, I had the logistics squared away and companies that wanted things to work behind the deal. I was confident in my ability to get Helpers to people who wanted them.
More obscure legal issues I could handle later.
"Looks like a success," Theo said as things wound down. "Good luck."
"You too."
Once he got into a position to direct it, Medhall could become involved. Soon, hopefully. Mass layoffs seemed inevitable and that wouldn't improve the state of the city.
Theo went to Vienna and started chatting, and others gave me some thanks and expressed skepticism or enthusiasm. I didn't let it get to me. Couldn't. I needed to focus.
"Seems things are dying down." Count smiled as she passed me. "Perhaps we could discuss specifics elsewhere."
I gave a look to Armsmaster, then to the rest of the room. Most of those who came to watch had left and the others were absorbed.
I turned around and quietly followed them out of the room.
Count and Tattletale went casually down the hall. I tapped out a quick message to Veda. I gathered this was some attempt to talk, but I wasn't really opposed to just smashing and grabbing.
The sound of footsteps drew my eyes to my side.
"What's up?" Mikazuki asked.
"Best if you stay out of it."
"Who are they?"
"Danger, danger," Green clarified from my other side.
"Hmm."
When they turned into a doorway not far down the hall, I followed.
A heart monitor beeped, and I noticed the older woman lying in a medical bed.
"Don't mind Kaylie," Count said. "Her condition leaves her in a coma. We brought her here to see if Panacea could do something, but she's still waiting."
Panacea didn't do brains. She was only here to give us a room to talk in.
Mikazuki closed the door behind Green and pulled a pencil from his jacket without prompting. I suppose I should be glad he had the foresight not to bring a gun. Seeing him wield a pencil was somehow more intimidating.
Tattletale groaned. "We really don't have time for this whole do you—"
I took two steps and swung a beam saber from my hip. The blade ignited and leveled just above Count's shoulder, so close to her neck. My face twisted as I stopped attempting to hide the emotions I couldn't describe. I held my blade there, contemplating.
If I had to guess from how she described her power to me… "Victory."
She smiled at me. "You've spoken with Lalah."
Not even a denial?
This was Teacher's opponent, a random thinker hanging out in the middle of nowhere, and she just walked up to me. I couldn't not see the parallels between Noelle and David. How he got close and manipulated her. Used her completely to his own ends. Reduced her to a tool.
"You really want to make the same mistake again?"
I wheeled around, keeping my saber held over Count's shoulder and threw my fist into Tattletale's cheek. Pain recoiled up my arm to my shoulder. I grit my teeth. Her body coiled up, and she stumbled from the blow until she hit the corner of the gurney and tumbled.
I turned back to Count, eyes trapped on the space separating her collar from my saber.
It would be easy. Flip the power up, and cut down. Problem solved. One side down, one to go. Easy. So easy. I'd already killed Noelle, so what—
sys.v/ don't
I tensed, still staring at that space while the message flashed in my visor. Why shouldn't I? If I'd been more decisive before, maybe things would have been different.
sys.v/ it's not who you are
"She's right." God damnit Tattletale. She coughed behind me, feet slipping as she tried to pull herself up. "You'll regret it, and you know it."
"I'd save you the trouble," Count offered.
She raised her hand and undid the top button of her jacket. I almost flipped the switch right there and swung down, but the reaction died at the first sign of tinker-tech. Instead, I felt like vomiting. The taste of bile filled my mouth and I recoiled while my power tried to work out how she was alive at all.
I traced pumps and cords with my eyes. Devices I didn't understand. A cylinder here, and a vial of some kind there. The sack was obviously an artificial lung, and was that supposed to be a kidney? I couldn't tell.
Anatomy class didn't cover women missing the left side of their torso from the shoulder down to the hip. A translucent mesh covered the devices, mimicking the lines of a human body. That still didn't explain how she was alive, or how long she could keep living like that.
She'd save me the trouble. "You're dying."
"In a year," Tattletale clarified. "Tops."
"Many of my paths end sooner," Count added. "In as little as five months. My time is almost up, and once I'm gone, David will no longer fear reprisal."
A year?
The Gold War, my vision when Aisha triggered. It was blurry, like trying to look at something through a dirty swimming pool. I remembered though. A woman in a hat—Calvert was obsessed with Lafter's Ms. Buckingham get-up—and a cape.
It was them. That was it. The moment the war between the powers started.
My hand shook and I killed the beam before I cut something. "Mikazuki, if she talks, pencil her."
"Okay."
"Seriously?" Tattletale grumbled.
"Sure."
Letting one thinker talk was bad enough. I wasn't going to let it be two.
Tattletale's power was some kind of analytical ability. Count's told her how to get what she wanted. I'd think this was purely about getting something from me, but coming out this way was so stupid. Surely Count wouldn't spend years hanging around Relena Peacecraft just to ditch now. She'd go back and pursue her agenda, and now I knew where to find her.
"Get on with it," I snarled. "Say what you're here to say." I'd make up my mind after.
"May I sit?" Count pressed a hand to her missing side. "This is quite uncomfortable."
Did her power tell her to say that?
"Yes, but she's not lying." I turned back toward Tattletale. She just glared at me. "You got to hit me. I probably did deserve it. Let's move on."
"Should I pencil her now?" Mikazuki asked.
"It's a shame the two of you aren't friends," Count muttured. It felt oddly sincere.
She didn't await my permission, and simply stumbled back until she hit the wall, then slid down into a stool set by Kaylie's hospital bed. She wheezed as she did so, and I recognized the little emotions in her face. They were on Noelle's face too, while she had a sword stuck through her chest.
Could her power tell her how to fake that?
"Not that convincingly," Tattletale answered.
I hissed. "Mika—"
"You'd be good friends," Count interrupted. "You're both so earnest when you choose to be."
Tattletale scoffed. I agreed with her. What a rotten week, and I knew rotten weeks.
"I don't think I've ever really had a friend," Count mused. "I've only ever had steps in my path. I think I regret that the most, the way I've used others toward my own ends as things rather than people. You and Sarah included."
I raised my brow.
Was she trying to take responsibility for Tattletale? Why? "Just get on with it. What do you want?"
"I want you to sit down with Ms. Relena."
…
I looked to Tattletale. She shrugged. Seriously? They came all this way, completely exposed themselves, just to arrange a playdate?
"You'd be good friends too," Count suggested. "You both want to change the world. You can do it together."
Thinking back, Relena seemed like an earnest person herself. She was sad when I met her, and her speech during Canary's concert did speak to me. Yet, she was bound to this woman. Someone who admitted to manipulating others in the way I loathed; a dehumanizing schemer. Someone who reduced lives to tools.
I only met Relena because of her. How could I know that wasn't all a set up? Some kind of distant preparation for this manipulation.
sys.v/ this course of action is strange
sys.v/ they may be honest in their intentions
"Don't believe me," Count pleaded. "Believe Relena. She knows nothing of these things. I've never told her. She's an honest soul, whose only desire is peace."
If she really wanted peace, the quickest route seemed to be ending the hidden war waging around us. If she was going to die anyway—I needed no convincing of that—that just left Teacher. Kill him and the war would end. I'd probably take that, honestly. If she wanted me to do the dirty work for her, fine. I'd do it.
It would be better than letting things drag on, creating more Noelles and more Glorias.
"No."
I flinched and leaned toward Count. "No?"
"I won't tell you anything about David."
What?
"Do not give in to fear." She pressed a hand against the wall and tried to push herself up. "Do not make our mistake."
Our—Cauldron. Fortuna.
That was it. The name of some thinker cape Triumph knew about. Someone Cauldron was looking for who disappeared after Scion died. That was her.
"We threw everything into defeating him," she said. "We cast everything else aside. Nothing mattered in the face of annihilation. Everything was permitted. We were wrong. You have to be different. You have to be better. You can be. You and Relena, and those like you."
And for a moment, I wasn't suspicious at all.
It felt too real. Too honest. Showing up without masks and all but laying themselves bare. Exposing themselves for no clear gain. If they wanted to trick me, why show up that way at all? What was the point?
Count rose up, back leaning against the wall as she struggled to breathe. "My life nears its end. David can't be allowed to win, but you cannot become so obsessed with his defeat you lose sight of yourself and the possibility of tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Relena used that word too.
"Talk to her," Count reiterated. "Make your own choice. She can't do it alone. No one can. There are battles she cannot fight. She can be the shield, but a shield—"
"Needs a sword." She wouldn't tell me about David, because if she did I'd think that's what she really wanted. So, she honestly wanted me to work with Relena?
The woman nodded painfully.
She's not what I expected. Teacher was like a cancer, spreading into all the little corners of the world and festering. Making them worse. Ruining people in some pursuit of chaos. I still didn't really know what he wanted. Noelle made him sound like some kind of extremist, but her description was too vague and hate-filled to be of much use.
In comparison to that, what did Count want? Count told me she wanted peace for all time way back when Sam Stansfield died. She'd spent the last decade sheltering one girl for that end. That's the story she was peddling and I struggled to believe it.
Green jumped onto a counter by the door, and Veda asked,"You're why the Simurgh attacked Sweden?"
Count closed her eyes and nodded.
"Teacher controls the Simurgh," Tattletale said. "You figured that out yourself?"
I ignored her. "You're why Cranial went mad."
Again, Count nodded.
Figured. Bonesaw was the only single tinker who could possibly work whatever horror kept her alive that long. I doubted Count managed that. That left Hero's team—she'd clearly tried to get away from Cauldron—and Toybox.
I could even guess how it went down.
Glace froze her and the other tinkers in the group put the tech together. Cranial was a memory and brain tinker. She probably went poking around Count's head and figured something out. Maybe Count said something.
Maybe it didn't matter.
What was done was done. She might be telling the truth here, but that didn't quite mesh with what I'd been told either.
sys.v/ she may talk about Teacher if pressed
Perhaps. Or, "Tell me about the Gold War, and I'll think about meeting Relena."
Count opened her eyes. "You've met Lalah."
So she would talk about that. "What is she?"
"Human, once. She transcended that somehow, along with her companions."
"She said there was a war on the other side. Where powers are." I looked back, examining Tattletale for a reaction. What I got was a raised brow and uncertainty. "She claimed there were two sides. Priest and Victory." Who was lying?
Count looked uncertain at that, which confused the fuck out of me.
"I started Cauldron to kill Scion," she explained. She started it? "The deed itself seemed so insurmountable, we paid the potential fallout less mind. Lalah's arrival, with her companions, changed that. With their help we eliminated Scion but in doing so set a new apocalypse in motion."
"Network collapse."
"Yes. She's over there, isn't she?"
And this is why talking with thinkers sucked. They could tell you things. The very act gave them things too. Did that information hold value for her? She'd been to the other side too.
"She was the most generous of the three. They insisted that their aid would not stretch so far as to solve all our trials." She looked surprised for a moment, then hesitant. I raised my brow, curious. "I tried to avert the collapse, but my power failed. It hasn't been the same since."
And that's when David attacked her? Seemed like she adamantly didn't want to talk about him.
"What war?" Tattletale asked.
So Count hadn't told her—"Oh, no. She's told me everything. In fact, I'll prove it because I'm with you. Eidolon is a total shitbag and he needs to go or none of this rainbows and candy stuff is gonna happen."
Eidolon. My jaw slackened. He?
"Sarah," Count hissed.
The first Eidolon. The one who fought in the Gold War, duh. Wasn't his power supposed to be any power he wanted?
"Any power he needed," Tattletale clarified. "That's him. Now what war are you talking about?"
I looked at Count, but her gaze was set frustratingly on Tattletale. She really didn't want me to know about David, but how could she not know about the war? Why would Lalah lie about that? No. No, what was it she said exactly?
Victory and Priest are hastening the collapse Scion's death began
.
Did she ever actually say they were leading the war, or did I just assume that? If they weren't actually leading it, then why mention them at all?
"You went to the other side to avert the network collapse?"
Count kept looking at Tattletale, but answered, "Yes. Now the damage is making our situation worse. Hastening our own collapse."
I fucking hated dealing with thinkers. This was far enough.
"Mikazuki, we're leaving."
Tattletale stuttered. "Wait—"
"You sure?" he asked.
"Yes."
I couldn't discount the possibility they were digging for info, but something was off. Something felt profoundly wrong. It was like my conversation with Hero. The questions I was getting weren't the ones I expected. The people asking them weren't what I expected.
Since my time Over There, I'd been looking for two schemers and liars. Users. Instead, I had a messiah complex and a broken, dying woman. A woman who lost her war a long time ago.
I needed to think and I wasn't going to do that with thinkers in the room.
At least I knew where to find them. "I'll call you."
I turned on my heel and started walking away, trying to restrain myself lest I give Tattletale something.
But, it was almost like Count had no idea. Did she not meet her power when she went over there?
"Hold on!"
I kept walking down the hall, a hand tugging at Mikazuki to keep him going forward.
"Hey, wai—"
As soon as I turned the corner and saw the next hallway occupied by two people not looking at me, I spun.
I grabbed Tattletale by the collar and threw her into a small alcove. Mikazuki stepped into the alcove with us, peering around the corner. Tattletale didn't struggle, but she did grab at my wrist as I leveraged my height and pinned her against the wall.
"I am not in the mood," I snarled. "Learn to quit!"
"Says the girl who'd rather die than give up," Tattletale retorted. "Stellar advice. Have any on forgiveness?"
"I will hit you again."
She smirked. "You're quite the bully when it suits you."
"I—"
"And I'm a smartass. Damn the human condition for cursing us with negative character traits! Get over it."
I assumed she could guess what I was thinking.
"Yeah, fuck you too. I don't like being used either, but this is the creek we're up and we're up it together."
"You think I'd work with you?"
"I think I'm not so selfish that I can't see how bad things are getting, and you're not so bitter you're really going to keep holding a grudge now that you've collected on that punch."
I grimaced and pulled back. "I hate you."
"No you don't. You don't hate and you know it."
"I really will punch you again."
"That's how it works, you know. Having powers?" I raised my brow and she continued, "Even knowing it, I struggle to help myself. I never really noticed how my power always gives me the worst possible interpretation of what I'm seeing. I always took it at face value, you know?"
Never. Let. The thinker. Talk.
"You imply that having powers alters behavior," Veda mused. Green rolled up behind me. "Explain.
Tattletale straightened her blouse and spoke in a low voice. "Conflict is how they evolve. Everything we do feeds them. They feed it right back. Give a bunch of monkeys dimensional superweapons and see what they can do with it."
"They manipulate behavior?" Veda probed.
"It's not exactly straightforward, but they set us up to pick at each other. My mouth for example." She glanced at me. "Your persistence. I think they use whatever avenue works. It's not a master effect exactly. It's still us."
A parasite, a parasite with a main brain and a thousand little shards. Made sense. If they used us to evolve, they needed us to actually use our powers. Explained a few things.
"Count knows this?" I asked.
"She was Cauldron, more or less. She probably knows more than anyone but the Doctor and she says the Doctor's dead."
Madison.
Tattletale sighed. "And you know something."
"Maybe."
"Something related to Façade I'll bet. Don't need a power for that. Well, I shared. What did you mean by war?"
If Count would tell her that, then why not mention the war unless she really didn't know about it? But then what did Lalah' mean? Even asking Count might not matter. If she didn't know, she didn't know.
"Lalah Sune said they were at war with each other," I explained. "I even saw one of them who appeared injured or sick."
Tattletale tilted her head. "Why would a hive mind be at war with itself?"
Why was Administrator waiting for me?
Conflict drove them? That would fit in a way. I knew only a few capes who didn't end up acting the part of heroes or villains. Sabah and Trevor were really the only ones in Brockton Bay. Maybe Panacea, but she didn't offer healing to villains as freely as heroes so she probably fell more on my side of the line.
Conflict.
Conflict.
Teacher…
He was making conflict. Noelle said he wanted to break the cycle, start a revolution. Revolutions were bloody. They were violent. They rarely ended the way the people who started them expected. There'd be conflict if he carried through his plans, lots of it.
On the other hand, there was Count. Victory. What did she want? Peace? No, she wanted me to work with Relena for peace. Cooperation.
I raised my head.
I couldn't help it.
I smiled.
"What?" Tattletale asked. She scowled. "Your thinker power is bullshit."
"I'm a tinker," I said confidently.
"Sure about that?"
They weren't leading the war, not personally. Count said she tried to fix whatever killing Scion broke. She said she failed, but maybe…
What if she didn't fail?
What if she kicked off something, started something within the pieces of Scion that survived? A conflict between them over the path forward. If I knew they'd die out, they must too. The body might live on for a time, but eventually it would stop living.
We were also trapped by the state of the world.
Mikazuki didn't get a choice in where life put him. A lot of us didn't. Tattletale and I didn't ask for powers. They just happened. Or they didn't. Some of our triggers broke. And some didn't. There were things beyond our control. The world was too big, for all of us.
They were fighting for their own future, just like us. Those who sought to do things as they always were—orthodoxy, priest—and those who wanted a new path—cooperation, victory.
Lalah Sune didn't tell me what I wanted to know. She told me what I needed to know, and despite her stated neutrality, she had a preference, didn't she? She knew which side she wanted to win.
So where did we fit, Administrator and I? Lalah said I was already on the path to that realm. I was on it because Administrator gave me the means. She wanted me to reach her from the start.
How are we to spend our lives?
"Are you going to share?" Tattletale asked. "No? Fuck you."
"Fuck you too. We're going, Mikazuki."
"Kay."
"You're just leaving me hanging?"
"Stick around Relena and find out."
I needed to check the notes anyway, and think. Besides. Served the know-it-all right.
"The Haros are apologetic for their prior interactions with you," Veda said as I turned away. "Though, I would observe it takes two to tango."
Tattletale groaned. "They changed the locks on my entire building and swapped everyone else's keys except for me!"
"And they apologize."
"Sorry, sorry."
Okay, that was amusing. Wonder if I could deliver a Haro to Sanc to keep an eye on them.
"Was that good or bad?" Mikazuki asked as we went down the hall. "I was kind of lost."
Oh. Right. Orga took him and the chubby boy and walked out before I explained some of those parts.
I didn't need to ask. Mikazuki was attached to Orga like a twin. "I'll tell him," I said. "Just give me a day or two." He looked at me skeptically. "I have to check some things. It's not about hiding anything."
He still looked skeptical.
Never simple.
Tattletale didn't follow this time at least.
I went back to the demonstration room, but things were already winding down. Trevor and Shino were packing up the Helpers, and the crowd had dwindled. I spoke to a few of them. Some seemed to assume I'd struck some deal to sell to Sanc and asked what the terms were.
Did Count do that on purpose?
"Taylor." I turned at my father's voice. He came up behind me with a worried look. I expected a typical question like 'what happened' and 'are you okay.' Instead, he asked, "Ready to go home?"
"I guess?" Really?
"Okay."
…The fuck? "Are you alright?"
"Fine. That was a good demonstration. Armsmaster seemed impressed. He said he had to go to a meeting and couldn't stay."
I am so confused right now.
I was contemplating calling for master/stranger protocols as we exited the front doors.
"Newtype!"
Wonderful time to remember reporters exist.
Most of the approaching band I didn't recognize. A few seemed focused on Blue Cosmos and only started towards me after hearing my name. Some were accompanied by cameramen. Others seemed like they just walked off the street and had nothing but a phone.
Honestly, I liked Lacy's way of putting it.
Vultures.
But, Kati said you can either bash your head against reporters or find a way to live with them. There are journalists you actually want to talk with. The ones you tell to be a certain place at a certain time if they want to talk to you. I just wished those reporters didn't come with all the other ones.
In that spirit, I turned to Kinue Crossroad and said, "I don't have a lot of time."
She pulled her hair back, tucking some loose strands behind her ear. "Just a few questions?"
"A few." Beside me, Mikazuki was watching the crowd closely, and at some point Green had climbed onto his shoulder.
"Do you have a comment about what happened in Hartford?" Kinue asked.
Right. Fuck. I told the reporters where I would be before that happened and expected to talk about the Helpers. Of course, that was mundane trivia compared to what just happened upstate. Hundreds dead. Heroes and villains. Why give a damn about a technological marvel that could literally make everyone's life better?
And fuck me twice, because Kati tried to prep me for this but I'd been too wrapped up in what happened to really listen.
"I wish it had been different," I answered. That was a shitty answer and Kinue's reaction confirmed it.
"You've never killed anyone in prior confrontations," someone from the back shouted. "What did Façade do that changed your approach to her?"
Stupid fucking question. I ignored it.
"How are you?" Kinue asked, in a tone that felt more heartfelt than professional. "The PRT has said that Miss Militia's life was endangered and your actions saved her. I don't imagine that's made it any easier."
I wondered if she asked that question solely to spite the prick at the back.
And I didn't know how to answer.
No one deserves to die. They die anyway.
And what about the boy beside me, who admitted to killing but whose circumstance I understood? Someone cast aside, left to drift. What could he do when someone came to kill him or those around him but take matters into his own hands?
He was more a soldier than a child, and how many more like him were there?
Where does someone like him belong in a world like this?
"I wish it was different," I admitted. Where did Noelle belong?
Another reporter, one of the ones who began near the protestors, asked, "Do you have a comment on accusations made against the PRT? Is Cauldron real?"
"I don't know," I lied.
Kinue leaned in. "You'd previously spoken with her, did you not?"
Someone would notice that. "Yes."
"Did she share these accusations with you? You've been critical of the PRT and the Protectorate, some might say with good reason. Is it possibly she thought you'd be sympathetic to what she had to say?"
"Have you ever been near the Simurgh?"
Again, I ignored that stupid question. Not answering a question at all is better than angrily rejecting it. Even if I really wanted to angrily reject it.
Answering Kinue's question, I said, "She did talk to me about it."
That got a few interested eyes and one of the phone reporters asked, "Did she elaborate on any of her accusations?"
"Did she say how or why she thought these things?"
"Did she mention the Simurgh?"
"I didn't believe her," I clarified. "It was all farfetched. Stuff like Teacher plotting Sam Stansfield's assassination. Cauldron controlling the PRT and creating the Case-53s." I could tell everyone everything she didn't get the chance to. "I didn't believe her. I only figured out the bit about the Simurgh later and called the PRT because I was worried she might hurt people."
Who did she hurt in the end? Fucking Cauldron and Teacher? A bunch of bigots? She didn't know that trigger would happen. She tried to kill Hannah, but only to force me to kill her. It's not what she wanted to do.
Use me, she said.
I could do this for her. I could tell the truth and finish what she didn't have time to say. She took the target on her own back, and now I had the chance to reveal the things I knew without getting it painted on my own.
And I felt like a coward for it.
"What about now?" the next question inquired. "Have you changed your mind?"
"I—"
"What about the trigger event at Hartford? Do you believe Chloe Kholer should be caged for the deaths of nearly two-hundred fifty people?"
What? I turned toward that man and glared at him. What kind of psychopath puts a child in the Birdcage? She didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't her fault.
"Is it possible she's too dangerous?" another reporter I'd seen covering Blue Cosmos asked. "What if the Simurgh—"
"Who gives a shit what the Simurgh wants?!" I snarled.
My fist tightened at my side, and the reactions that got only made my blood boil hotter.
This was my best idea? Noelle told me to use her, and she threw herself in front of my sword. She died. For what? All that death, the pointlessness of it, and the best I could do was the fucking truth.
Coward, I thought.
"How can you say that?" someone asked. "The Simurgh has killed thousands. How can you be so heartless?"
I closed my eyes and ignored that question.
"Do you consider Blue Cosmos' actions justified in light of accusations against the PRT?"
The truth wasn't good enough. Not after all this. If the truth were good enough, how would the world be such a giant mess?
"Newtype, what do you think about Alexandria and Chief Director Costa-Brown's dismissal of accusations against them? Do you believe they faked being on stage together?"
Murrue and the PRT's crazy doctor were right. It all moved too damn fast. No one could keep up with it, not alone. That's why Noelle became desperate and hateful. Why Cranial went mad… Maybe why Cauldron became a horror show and David some apparent messiah complex.
Once you get past a certain point, it's all too much.
"Should we allow a villain's words to sway us?"
No one can do this alone.
Behind me, Dad whispered worriedly, "Taylor?"
I cut it all away. Fucking thinkers. That's what they meant. Cut David. Cut Cauldron. Cut Blue Cosmos. Just throw them aside, and really look at everything around me. What was really wrong with the world? What was tearing it apart? What wouldn't go away just because we beat a few bad guys and monsters and declared victory?
Time.
We were running out of time.
Time was what we needed. Time to adapt. Time to grow. Time to change. The world changed when Scion came and we couldn't go back or maintain the world that was. It was the one thing we were being denied, rolling from one crisis to the next and barely able to catch our breath.
"Aren't you tired of this yet?" I asked.
The questions stopped and a few of them gave me confused looks.
It felt selfish, but Noelle gave me permission. I knew she did. She knew her life was over and she wanted it to mean something. So, she gave it to me. I never wanted that responsibility…but it wasn't my fault.
I couldn't control the world.
I couldn't control other people.
It's not my fault. That's why I couldn't hate. I couldn't hate Mikazuki for what he'd done. I couldn't hate Bakuda. I couldn't hate Noelle… And deep down, I couldn't hate Tattletale, Count, or even Teacher. I didn't hate, because my life was a life spent learning how small and how weak we really were.
It didn't change the world, though. It didn't change that some people were making it worse. It didn't change they needed to be stopped and someone had to stop them.
It did change what mattered, and how I should use the responsibility thrust upon me.
"I am," I admitted. "Why did Façade have to die? She wasn't a monster. She believed what she said. It was true to her. People were suffering and she wanted to save them, and that bitch up there twisted her into a bullet."
Kinue blinked. "You disagree with the PRT's classification of Façade as a villain?"
I nodded firmly. "We don't need fewer people like that, we need more. I shouldn't have brushed her aside. It was wrong. She wanted help and I should have helped her." Gritting my teeth, I asked, "How many more people have to die before we accept that this isn't working?"
I saw the visible confusion. I suppose I did that on purpose. I wanted to make them ask the question. I wanted them to accept the premise. Is that manipulative? I supposed it was. I accepted it. I took responsibility for it.
What were we waiting for?
"What isn't working?" someone finally asked.
"Heroes and villains," I declared.
I was throwing them under the bus. That wasn't my fault. Cauldron made its own bed, and they'd dug a grave deep and wide. They'd drag people down with them who didn't deserve it. It was beyond my control.
They gave us time, I realized.
The PRT. The Protectorate. Even Cauldron. Because of how they were and what they did, we had time. Maybe it was the way things had to be once, but it didn't have to be that way now. They made mistakes. Big ones. We couldn't ignore them and survive.
There was no place in their order for capes like Parian and Trevor, capes that didn't want to fight. No place for Mikazuki and those like him, who had no choice but to fight. What became of the Case-53s now? Where did they belong, and where could they go? What fate awaited Administrator, the shard cheating her restrictions?
Why did I become a hero, and what really matters to me.
"You're talking about the PRT," Kinue stated. "You think they could have done more?"
I looked her in the eye, and let my mask drop for a moment. "I believe the PRT and the Protectorate have done a lot for the world, for capes and non-capes alike. And"—they didn't deserve this, but we don't get what we deserve—"I think all the best intentions don't change that they've failed."
It was time to move forward.
"You think the PRT is responsible for the deaths in Hartford?"
For the first time, I answered the Blue Cosmos shill's question. "Triggers aren't supposed to do that. They're not supposed to break and take out everything in sight like a flailing child with a machine gun."
"The PRT has been cagey about triggers," Kinue observed. "Are you prepared to talk about them?"
"You've all been talking about my trigger for weeks. The bullying at Winslow. The failure of the administration to protect me. The PRT's lax approach to a murderous psychopath. I don't need to talk about triggers and I don't need to explain that that"—Hartford—"isn't supposed to happen."
Someone else started to speak, but Kinue spoke over them. "Some have noted parallels between the tragedy in Hartford and what happened at Winslow. Are they connected?"
I set my eyes forward. "Ask the PRT."
Eyebrows rose.
"You're saying the PRT is aware of these events?" one of the tabloid reporters asked.
"Ask the PRT."
"Did they know what would happen before going after Façade?" Kinue asked.
"Ask the PRT."
"Are you saying that because you don't know or because you can't say?"
"Ask the PRT."
"Do you believe Façade's accusations?" Kinue asked.
And I answered that question with a question of my own. Now wasn't the time to be that reckless. "Maybe the PRT shouldn't get to decide who can be a hero anymore, or how."
Cut everything else away, and all that's left is that the world is broken. Some tried to fix it. Some tried to take advantage of it. Some meant well. Some meant ill. They were the symptoms in the end. The products of what didn't work.
And I was sick of it. "Maybe we should look for new ways to move forward."
The world needs swords? All right then. Embrace the damn metaphor.
"Bakuda," I said. Mikazuki turned his head. The reporters gaped. "We need to talk about your future."
