Taylor stared at her reflection, horrified by the image reflected in the mirror like surface of the machete. She reached out, her hand gently turning the blade for different angles, she shuddered as she saw the numerous lines of metal running up and down her arm, occasionally crisscrossing in areas mottled a dark greenish gray color at odds with the rest of her still human skin tone. The fact that those same lines an patches covered her face was even more horrific. A low keening came from her as she examined her face. Her left eye had been completely surrounded by the dark gray tissue, even her eye color had been affected, her once hazel eyes now mismatched with one a dark blue. The red steaks from her crying made the whole thing even more horrific.

Taylor had never considered herself especially vain, she was plain looking and okay with that, but the image before her was something she couldn't reconcile. "I'm a monster." She whispered. The "tears" started again, the red running down her face staining it further as Danny tried to get her attention.

"aylor Taylor TAYLOR!" Her eyes tore from her image as Miss Militia pulled the blade away and her father hugged her. "No, no you're not a monster sweetie, you're not, you never could be." He just continued the frenzied whispers of support as Armsmaster and Miss Militia watched on for a second before walking out of the room.


Hannah looked over at Colin as they sat across from each other slowly sipping their coffees. "Either way this goes she's going to need therapy" she said after taking a sip.

"Only a few a viable options for her. Wards and a return to normal life will require help. Could become a villain, those like her without access to mental health care have a 62 percent chance of going down that road at least for a year or two. A further 22 percent beyond that attempt to take their lives within a matter of weeks. In some ways, the case 53s have it easier. They don't remember before they changed."

Miss Militia nodded knowing the figures. "I'll put in a request for a therapist to come down and speak with her."

Arnsmaster nodded. "Good. I'll talk to her about joining the wards. If she's anything like Weld she'll be a considerable asset." He got up to leave before feeling Hannah's hand holding him back. "No. Not before the therapist. No pressure Colin. She's close to breaking already."

Colin looked at her for a moment then nodded. He was well aware of his own deficiencies. "You handle it then. Be lead on her case. I'll start looking into who nearly killed her. Shadow Stalker goes there, she may have some insight."

Miss Militia's eyes narrowed. "Maybe. Given her own issues I doubt she bothers to notice anybody accept people she can acceptably target." She got up and looked at her team mate, her friend even sometimes. "Anyways I'm going to call Carol, maybe Panacea can give us a better idea of what's happening to Taylor than merely absorbing metal."

Walking together a short way toward's their offices Armsmaster spoke up. "Not just metal. She absorbs some forms of plastic too. I lost part of a gauntlet trying to get some readings. That's why we're only using passive sensors now."

Miss Militia winced. The girl was in some ways even worse off than Weld. The two split apart heading in opposite directions.


Sophia glared as she walked down the halls of the PRT building. Most of the Protectorate ENE had offices here for when they were dealing with routine paperwork, and minus some specialized functions it was rumored that the refurbished oil rig was more a decoy than anything else. Not that Sophia could really speak on it having not stepped foot on it. Despite her inclusion in the Wards she was first and foremost on probation and not nearly trusted enough to be allowed in the super secret headquarters. At least that's what Sophia thought of it as. "Probably just where they go when they wanna hold hands and all the stupid shit I'm supposed to be doing with the kiddies."

She knocked on the door and waited impatiently before it opened, revealing Armsmaster's bulk shifting through some of the paperwork that had built up while no doubt tinkering on something or over. "Yeah what?"

He looked up at her. "Sit. I've been looking through some of your reports on the state of Winslow. Given it's one of the gangs' main recruiting grounds I'm wondering at the lack of information in your reports. Explain."

Sophia sat in the chair dread shooting through her. "There isn't much to report. I've identified four suspected capes within the school, two merchants selling, one of which I scared off. I've got a friend watching the other in classes she has with him writing down the names of anybody she sees interacting with him on more than one occasion. There aren't too many there who fit the Aryan ideal but I keep an eye on them, I just haven't seen anything suspicious."

Armsmaster watched her. "Any other crime you've seen or heard about?"

Something in his tone set warning bells off in her head. "Well, there was the destruction of the lockers. But I wasn't there for that."

Armsmaster made a note. "Thank you. What's currently unknown is that their was a victim in the destruction of the lockers. A Taylor Hebert. Given the resulting injuries and the way the lockers were destroyed we've classified it a parahuman crime. That means it's under our jurisdiction. I know you've cultivated contacts, look into it, see if you can dig anything up." Armsmaster watched the biometric analyzer in his helmet and saw her heart rate spike. "Hmm. Never seemed to be the nervous type."

Sophia nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "Shit shit shit shit shit. If Hebert talks I'm dead." "Yes sir. I'll get right on it." She stood up and moved out of the room feeling less like the predator and more like the prey for the first time in a long while. "FUCK FUCK!"


Amy sighed as her sister set down in front of their house. She'd been in a bad mood since gym when one of the girls had asked if she could give her a boob job. Answer, "Yes. "Will you?" "No." Girls like her loved to forget that before she was famous that they made fun of her for being ugly when compared to her sister. Amy snuck a look at Vicky. "Not that they're wrong." she thought as her eyes roved over Vicky's legs and moved upwards. The things I want to do to that. NO, BAD!" She sighed, used to having to censor her thoughts about her sister. They didn't do her any good and would only hurt more in the long run. Besides, it wasn't like she didn't find other girls attractive, but Vicky wasn't just hot, she was her best friend.

Amy shrugged her bag off her shoulder happy for a day off. She'd probably end up at the hospital later anyways but she'd take the time she could to relax before her conscience began it's usual tirade about how lazy she was, how selfish. How disgusting it was every time she considered making a teeny mistake.

She groaned when she heard her mother, "No, Carol." call her.She moved towards the kitchen. "Yeah?"

Carol looked over at the Marquis' daughter. "Miss. Militia called earlier. They'd like you to take a look at someone, said something about needing your powers to figure her out."

Amy groaned internally, it wouldn't do for Carol to see hesitation. She'd been looking forward to laying down on her bed and just conking out for an hour or so. "Alright, I'll get dressed and have Vicky take me over. She'll probably want to see Dean anyways. Amy snorted for a second. Even ignoring her feelings about her sister's boyfriend the two were quite saccharine at times.