For two weeks, I'd lived with a secret, a promise that I'd be something more than the meaningless bullied schoolgirl. It had become a foundation, a support, and that was what had just disintegrated beneath my feet. My escape had gone, and my days were heading back to a very familiar hopelessness.

But I wasn't going to cry for such a stupid self-centered reason. Not here, not in front of her. I'll get over this. It's just one more disappointment. I wasn't sure I believed it myself, but the bitter resignation helped stave off my tears.

I glanced at the fire escape, or at least the blur it was in my watering eyes. As soon as I trusted myself to make my way back, without my power pointing me in the right direction, I'd leave. I didn't know what I'd do about her, my power, whatever, but if she had anything more to say to me, she could damn well deign to talk to me at home.

"It wasn't my intention to make you cry," my power said. "And maybe that was unfair. But I can't apologize for resenting this." There was a tug on our connection – her leash. It was a signal, just that. No possibility of her breaking free. It just made me feel worse.

"I didn't fucking ask for this power."

"Yeah." There was a weight behind the word. "I suppose some things don't change." She turned away, back to the city. "I'm wrapping up here. You can swap me for the first if you want a ride home. I suspect she's willing."

Her words slowly registered – the implication of them. Not four versions of one. Four distinct presences after all. Four people I'll only be able to give one fourth of a life each.

And, I reasoned, if the one I'd met sat at an average level of resentment, at least one of them had to absolutely loathe me. The thought made me feel sick, nauseous, a burning in my stomach. Guilt. No, it was more than that.

Life had been trying to drive me into a corner for over a year now, but I'd always been able to find refuge, even if it was temporary. I could flee from school at home, I had weekends. On the rare occasions my dad wanted to talk, bring school into my sanctuary, I could count on him to respect my boundaries. It wasn't perfect. God, it wasn't. But I'd always had a place to escape and recover.

None of that was true for my power. There was no escape, not one, not anywhere, not for a minute. It would be with me for the rest of my life.

Trapped.

Again that crushing grip grabbed hold of my insides. I had to get out – away. Do something, find a way to solve this. I needed to breathe. Couldn't. Was – was I having a panic attack?

My power snapped her head back to me. In a whirling storm of black specks, she dispersed, and my power twinged at the same time. A push sideways that wasn't sideways,trying to force my energy from the second into the first. I could stop it. Trivially. Almost wanted to, because I wasn't ready to face another person who probably hated me. But I didn't.

The next thing I felt were arms around me.

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I registered what this was. It didn't matter. I squirmed and struggled, fighting because this constraint was something that could be fought. But the arms proved far too strong.

Hated this. Feeling weak, useless. Frustration fueled one last attempt at ripping away, wrenching my shoulders, and it yielded precisely the same result.

Maybe it was the distraction, but I was breathing normally again, even if I still felt miserable. The panic had passed. When I belatedly realized I could've just dismissed her with my power, she was already letting go.

"What a mess, huh?" Her voice was identical to the other one. Unnerving, how that didn't surprise me at all. She backed away, stood at a comfortable distance. Her appearance was somehow minimal. Sleek, elegant, but no cape-shawl, no dress, no concealing hood, just a skintight suit with armored panels in the same mottled black-and-gray. I couldn't tell if the armor was lighter or heavier, but it had softer lines, smoother edges. The outfit still looked plenty edgy, maybe even villainous, just... not as sinister.

The mandibled mask with its yellow lenses was eerie, but the way her hair was left free made her seem a lot more approachable. Or maybe personable? No, neither word really fit. Maybe her hair just reminded me of mom.

"Sorry about that, didn't think. And sorry about Caster." Her voice was lighthearted, very normal. "She struggles with restrictions that don't make sense to her, which pretty much describes our current existence. She's probably less frustrated with you than you think. More with the situation."

"Right," I mumbled. Sure sounded like she blamed me for not being able to fix the city.

There were a few moments of silence, of non-communication. No speech, no movement, she didn't stand in any particular way, and her facial expressions were hidden. Creepy. Made me wonder if capes on TV had to practice to be expressive in costume.

She was the one to break the silence. "For what it's worth, this situation isn't so bad. I won't say it's ideal, or even appreciated, because I doubt you'd believe me. But I think we'll end up making it work."

Sweet words. I wanted to believe them, to have the comfort of knowing at least one part of my power could be optimistic about things, a part I could feel less guilty about. But it didn't fit. "Then why the stupid hide and seek? Why avoid me for weeks?"

"We... needed time to acclimatize, find our bearings. To prove and disprove some theories before we started planning, then acting. We were always going to involve you at some point, but the others were hoping to improve your situation first. Caster only stopped hiding because you started to endanger yourself."

What? My mind latched onto that terrifying phrase: improve my situation. Why? How would it even be able to help? What if it got out I had powers? I felt a spike of panic at the absolutely dizzying number of things that were just wrong about my power involving itself in my life like that.

"Yeah." She sighed. "I wasn't a fan of that either, but I got overruled two against one. Not that we've set up a democracy inside your skull or anything, but I trust the others. Sorry. I know that probably feels like a betrayal."

Could she have convinced the others to just approach me honestly, immediately? To not go behind my back? I didn't know, but I got the sense she could've fought for it harder. It put me in mind of some of my teachers – aware of my situation, but unwilling to act, unwilling to stand up for me, or at least not willing enough. She was right. From someone who was acting like she was on my side, it did feel like betrayal.

"I am sorry about that," she continued, and she did sound... maybe not apologetic, but regretful. "I think all of us want to be honest, but we know enough about this world to know how honesty and full disclosure can screw with us."

"And I don't?" I couldn't tell when I'd gotten my power, not exactly, but the presences had existed for maybe two weeks. I'd lived in Brockton Bay for fifteen years. It was obvious they were getting information from somewhere, but it felt ridiculous that they could just dismiss me like that. "Then explain."

She shook her head. "I can't." She won't.

I focused on my breathing. "Then what can you tell me? What are you?"

"People? Personalities? Points of view?" She shrugged – my connection to her made it seem more helpless than indifferent. "I'm uncomfortable with it, but the third thinks we're images of a person who could've lived. Who did live, from where we're standing. Each of us a stage in her life."

I tried to process that. And failed miserably. "Why the hell did that end up as my power?"

"I really really wish we had an answer to that. It would make things a lot easier." She looked to her left. "We can think about it later. For now, we should move. It's not urgent, but we've been heard, and I can't keep people away as subtly as Caster was."

My own check of the surroundings didn't reveal much more than gray sky and dreary brick buildings. Our rooftop was about as high as buildings got around here, well outside plain sight. Someone down on the street?

"Do you want to fly?"

I snapped my head to her, then frowned. What kind of question was that?

"Your notes," she said. "They gave me the sense you were hoping for a flying power. I realize I'm probably the farthest thing from what you had in mind, but if you want to fly, I can take you. But I'll understand if you don't trust me yet."

She was right – I didn't trust her. At the same time, something about the way she said it urged me to prove her wrong. Maybe if I'd display trust here, she'd pay it back somewhere down the road? Or maybe I just wanted to see my power, even if I'd never be able to use it directly. "Show me."

She held out her hand, palm upward, and a small black beetle descended from above. She could attract bugs? To... carry her into the air? I wasn't taking physics, but that seemed unlikely.

"This will look a little creepy."

The beetle cracked and swelled at the same time, bloating to the size of a tennis ball, the cracks in its chitin revealing glistening muscles. The exposed flesh almost instantly hardened into chitin, only to shatter again with the next violent expansion.

Despite the warning, I took a step back. The beetle convulsed again, now cat-sized, its chitin cracking, its insides rumbling like stone grinding stone. Spikes and spurs and horns and fangs shot out in almost every direction, with claws and pincers forming on its increasingly thick limbs. Between expansions, the bug fluttered to the rooftop on brown wings, landing just as the next burst of growth arrived.

I could only stare as my power demonstrated that yes, you could scare off natural laws if you had a big enough bug.

Bizarrely, it got less unnerving as it passed the size of a bicycle. Normal bugs were instinctively creepy. Big bugs intensified that. But a bug this absurdly huge was... unreal somehow, like my mind started registering it as the kind of power weirdness you'd sometimes see on television. It helped that it was starting to look nicer – the sharp edges were rounding, and its colors bleached with each expansion. The chitin went from black to blue, even white in places, and the wings became clear as ice or glass.

The beetle stopped expanding when it reached the size of a car. No one would ever call it friendly-looking, and its gruesome growth was still fresh in mind, but it didn't take a bug enthusiast to admit there was a beauty to it. Six-legged, symmetrical, with scales of chitin overlapping like armor, and a mesmerizing pattern in its wings. Sky-blue chitin glittered in the sunlight.

I approached it, my power whispering that it wouldn't hurt me, that it couldn't. Still wasn't going anywhere near its fang-riddled maw, but I reached out, careful my hand didn't get trapped between chitin plates. I could sense its weight beneath my fingers, the power. I wouldn't be able to budge it if I tried.

"Faster if I don't bother making him look nice. Stronger too, pretty sure."

"You can decide?" I traced one of its – his – legs with my fingertip. Somehow not as sharp as they looked.

She waggled her hand in a so-so gesture. "Some. We had a mount like this once, created by an ally. The fact he was designed must've carried over. Don't ask me why it became part of my own power, or why me and not the others. We're still trying to find the logic."

"It's... it's not sentient, is it?" Was controlling thinking beings going to become a thing with me? God I hoped not.

She shook her head. "No thoughts, no personality. I think I could've given him one, but it would be cruel. Like the original was designed, the original expired. Part of what they are. He'll degenerate when you swap me out."

Oh. Even if it was just an unthinking tool, that struck me as a little sad. But it also meant I didn't have to hide a beetle the size of a Volkswagen, so good. Where would I have put it?

"And it's safe to fly this?" I'd trust my power if she believed it could carry us, and the blue and white probably worked as camouflage, but it was still a huge bug. It was going to draw attention, and I could think of a few local villains who could fly too.

"Should be. No reason for anyone to pick a fight with us. We might meet some heroes if their response is fast today." She looked toward the bay, to the heroes' base of operations floating in the water. The Protectorate HQ was tall enough to see from just about any rooftop in the Docks. "Shouldn't be a problem. Just be ready to hide your face."

Unlike the second, this aspect of my power didn't seem as openly adversarial with the heroes. Very much like the second, she didn't seem to consider joining them for even a moment. Nor did she consider the possibility I'd approach the heroes myself. Were they that sure I wouldn't ask for help? That I wouldn't join the Wards? The PRT were good about informing people of the benefits, and they probably had experience with independent creations like my power. Rationally, approaching them was the most sensible thing to do.

I considered it. Briefly. No, my power had me pegged. Even now, with a power I'd really appreciate a second opinion on, the idea of joining the Wards was hard to process. I'd be trapping myself in schedules and legal obligations. I'd be dealing with adult oversight that, even if it wasn't malicious, could be negligent, or could be used against me. The fact I'd need to deal with other teenagers just drove the point home. With my luck, the Wards would turn out to be Winslow with powers, more of the exact same things that were making my life miserable.

And at the end of the day, I was more afraid of that than I was afraid of my power. At least for now. I could afford to wait and see how they were going to help the city.

My power jumped onto the giant bug and held out her hand. It was surprisingly soft.

Flying should've been terrifying. My white-knuckled hands were cramping around the horn I clung to, the wind bit at my exposed ears, and the arms around me were a constant reminder that my power could let me fall whenever she wanted. It should've been terrifying. It surprised me that it wasn't.

Even knowing it wasn't really my power in the sense I wanted it to be, flying was exhilarating. The wind in my hair, the humming vibration of the bug's wings, the way my weight shifted when the beetle adjusted course... I just wanted to go faster, higher. The beetle obeyed.

Glancing down at the city gave me full-body pins and needles, but even that primal fear was exciting in its own way. Everything looked so small. The bay, the Docks, the rest of the city. I couldn't find my house at first, so I found the Weymouth shopping center and traced the streets from there. In the distance, the downtown skyscrapers scraped the sky less than me. So small. The houses, the people in the street. It was somehow comforting.

None of this wiped away my worries and problems, but right now, right here, I could believe they weren't so massive, not so overwhelming. It was a startling perspective – refreshing, slightly easing the constant anxiety I'd come to accept as normal. Maybe I'd make it through school if I just had this, every once in a while.

Too soon, the beetle descended, landing in an abandoned area in the western outskirts. Still pretty far from my house, but away from gang territory. As soon as we dismounted – and quickly moved to an out-of-sight alley – the bug rose into the air again, flying toward Captain's Hill. Drawing away pursuers?

"That was... nice. Thanks, um?" I tried making the silence an invitation, but it wasn't accepted. Or noticed. "Sorry, what do I call you?"

"Oh, right," she said, a little sheepish. "Just call me Rider for now, I guess. It's what your power calls me. Maybe I'll find something better later."

"And you said the second was Caster." The names seemed a little generic, but I got the sense they weren't worried about it. Confident they could make the names impressive? "And the others?"

She shook her head. "I'll let the third introduce herself." Another thing she wouldn't explain. What was that apprehension? And why wasn't she acknowledging the fourth?

Still, I nodded. Meeting the rest was a bullet I'd have to bite sometime. I had momentum now, and I'd probably struggle to sleep tonight if I stopped here. Rider had given me a little hope that maybe everything wouldn't be terrible.

As I prepared to shift my energy, Rider dissolved into black specks – limbs first, head last. Her presence was still in her previous position, most of it, just… not as much? Weird. I'd been assuming they had some kind of invisibility or intangibility, but now I was wondering if my power hadn't just come with an eco mode.

The third presence manifested similar to how the others disappeared – black specks appearing out of nowhere, drawing together. My first thought was white. White armor, white lenses. The bodysuit and extra pieces of cloth were still black, but I cautiously considered her appearance a good sign. Where the others had looked villainous, or anti-heroic if I was being generous, the third looked… balanced.

Strange thought, considering she was missing half of one arm.

"Um. Hi." I cringed a little at my awkwardness. This was the first time I'd met her, but she'd been able to observe me for weeks. "Rider told me to let you introduce yourself?"

She stared at me before answering. Her hood was up, but it had none of the second's unnatural darkness. Not as unnerving, but still intense.

"I suppose I'll use your power's name for me, like the others."

"Which is…?"

"It calls me Assassin."

A chill ran across my back. Assassin – and the presence I'd kept track of least. The one that had gone out while I was sleeping, likely more than I'd noticed. What had she done? The second had been scouting the Docks, but the third… had she hurt anyone? Killed?

They were hoping to do something about my situation.

"Where did you go." I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Those nights I let you roam freely. Where did you go?"

There was a silence, one I almost didn't want broken.

"The grave of Annette Hebert, and the home of Alan Barnes."