A Tale of Transmigration

by CrashLegacy

For Taylor Hebert, death was just the beginning. Reincarnated into an alternate earth version of herself she awakens to find herself trapped in a very familiar locker. Now armed with knowledge of her previous life and the ability to not just control bugs but also manipulate their biology, Taylor sets off to do what she always wanted to: be a superhero. Spoilers abound; sorry.

9. Chapter 9: A New Day

-/ Chapter 9: A New Day /-

I tumbled forward. My shin struck the edge of one of the steps as I went rolling down the stairs. I hit several more times on my way down. The pain was almost unbearable. I bit my tongue. I tasted copper as I steeled myself to keep the emotions in. They would not get a peep out of me. They would not win. I refused to let them win. I put my hands under me as I tried to get back to my feet noting absently that my right hand's knuckles were busted open. Before I could even get to my knees, the same hand was viciously stomped on. Sophia's voice came from over me, "Bottom of the food chain, Hebert. Learn your place."

I hadn't even done anything to warrant this type of reaction from them. I hadn't even said anything while on campus for the last four days. Maybe that was it? Emma spoke next, "Taylor, you're nothing but a maggot."

Maggot: fly larva. Medical use: eats necrotic flesh, while leaving living flesh behind relatively untouched. Larva: an early development stage of many insects.

The line of thought had come out of the blue, overriding everything. My power thrummed with life and an explosion of spider silk burst into existence. It twisted and collapsed in on me forming a protective cocoon as my tormentors kicked my body, insulted me, and generally tried to make my existence a living hell. Soon they would know fear.

Inside the hardened shell I underwent a metamorphosis. My muscles grew more pronounced and my fingertips became poisonous claws that would rend my attackers and leave them in raw, electric pain for untold days. They would feel the despair and anguish I had felt. An exoskeleton came in, the carapace to protect me from the wrongs of the world at large. My eyes grew and multiplied to observe the world from every angle so no one could surprise me ever again.

When I burst forth from the chrysalis, I found the girls dressed in the garb of Shadow Stalker. Emma, Madison, and Sophia wore masks that were caricatures of their own faces displaying their true selves to the world while the countless others who had participated wore featureless black hockey masks befitting their station as interchangeable actors in my torment. A massive swarm condensed around me as I flexed, opening my elytra and letting my gossamer wings unfurl. I grinned, my mandibles flaring out as I charged the group dimly aware that we found ourselves in the street in front the PRT HQ.

As I dashed Emma's brains across a façade the buzzing of my swarm morphed into that of my alarm clock and called me to awareness. I blinked and told myself that whatever it had been that I eaten to incite those dreams would never be on the menu again. Then I turned off my alarm clock; it was only serving to remind me of the migraine I let myself build the previous night.

Skitter had been fairly busy last night, I had hit another stash house of the ABB making off with a tidy profit. Not that I particularly needed the money, but every dollar I took from them and every thug I put in a hospital room or cell was that much less the ABB had to work with. I wasn't just chopping away at the ABB's feet, every time I attacked a building it was to watch the response after I had already followed the personnel, drugs, money, and weapons to find other locations. More than that, I was slowly building up an informed map of the area. I knew for example where Oni Lee slept now. It was just a matter of time until I figured out where Bakuda lived and worked.

That wasn't to say I was the only one chipping at the ABB. There had been two skirmishes between them and the E88 over the previous week, but the biggest blow had been delivered on Sunday morning when one of Lung's parahuman lieutenants, a shaker, was found dead with an arrow sticking out of his chest. Given that it was an honest to god arrow and not a crossbow bolt the killer was more than likely Quiver.

Quiver was about as antihero as you could get; he had a double digit body count and the police at least were actively seeking his arrest. Despite that, he actually managed to not only slip through the cracks, but also leave behind evidence and intel on the misdeeds of others. A rather interesting fact, and likely one of the reasons the Protectorate wasn't bothering to look for him was that his status as a parahuman wasn't proven. Even his Parahumans Online profile listed the archer as 'possible parahuman.' He used special ammunition and a variety of gadgets, but from what the site listed the technology he displayed didn't seem extraordinary so he could be a gadgeteer. Of course the costumed vigilante was also known for his unerring accuracy at even distances that would make a sniper unsure.

I may not be able to directly work with the archer due to my wanting to be seen as hero in the public's eye, but that didn't mean I couldn't capitalize on the waves created by his activities. I flexed my power. I was going to be gathering all the Intel I could on the actions the ABB took in response to this attack which would in turn allow me to better predict their reactions when I started hitting the higher echelons of their organization. My next action however would be another assault on the Merchants. The attack was simply a diversion so that anyone trying to follow my movements would believe my attention to be more focused there and thus allow my activities in the ABB territory go unnoticed.

The remnants of a migraine I still harbored were the result of some last minute modifications to a bio-manipulation project that I had finally completed. The resulting bug was pretty much as perfect as I was going to get it without having Panacea going over it to smooth out the proverbial wrinkles. Amy was more than willing to assist me in that regard, but I wasn't really too fond of that idea given exactly what this particular bug was intended for.

I had been e-mailed a list of restrictions that the PRT had put together and the list went from common sense restrictions to ones that were just completely unacceptable. Piggot had also sent me a similar document that was obviously the standardized list of restrictions and guidelines normal tinkers worked under so I could see an overall comparison …I guess. Honestly, I was having some problems reconciling the Piggot I'd met in this life with the one present in the memories of my previous existence.

This particular bug, while adhering to many guidelines, flew in the face of more than half a dozen other regulations set forth by the PRT and to a lesser degree common sense. That said, it was also too useful and necessary for me to not create after the idea had formed in my head. I'd just have to be cautious with it.

I stretched and pushed Skitter's issues to the back of my mind, today was an important day for Taylor. It was February fourteenth, Valentine's Day, and more importantly, my first day attending at Arcadia. I wanted to make a fresh start and put Winslow firmly behind me; as such I had consciously made the choice to wear brighter colors than I typically gravitated to as the victimized Taylor that ended up stuffed in a locker. I blinked and scowled at the yellow shirt I had draped across the back of my chair. What was up with me and the various shades of the color? It seemed every time I thought to wear some sort of color it was always yellow or some mix there off. Maybe that was my favorite color. I don't know; I never really gave much thought to favorite colors and stuff like that. Blue. I'm sure I've got a blue shirt somewhere.

After I got dressed, sky blue shirt under my usual grey hoody, I all but skipped down to the kitchen in relatively good spirits. After all, why shouldn't I be? It was the first day of the rest of my life. I found Dad flipping pancakes, blueberry pancakes at that, and greeted him as I got the orange juice out the fridge, "Hey Dad."

"Hey kiddo. Ready for today?" he asked as he poured the last of the batter into the pan. If I wasn't already awake the smells and citrus tang of the juice would have driven away the last dredges of sleep.

"Yep. I even slept in a bit," I answered picking the juice up and starting to clean up after Dad.

He nodded and said, "No nightmares?"

"Don't know. I mean, I dreamed something. I'm not sure I could call it a nightmare since it ended with me turning into some kind of monster and beating up the terrible trio."

Dad laughed, "I've had a few dreams like that. Granted, it was usually me making a fair impersonation of a brute cape and just decking people that got on my nerves."

I chuckled at the mental image of my dad punching with enough force to knock an Endbringer on its hindquarters. We fell into a comfortable silence after that he moving on to set the table and serve the food while I finished cleaning the cooking utensils.

"Do you want me to drive you to school? I'm headed to meet with Mr. Cranston so it's not out of my way or anything," Dad asked as we took our seats a minute later. Mr. Hal Cranston was the head attorney that the PRT had handling almost everything in regards to my bullying. Between my research into him and the short amount of time I had spent around the man himself, the image of a confident and scarily competent professional had been spawned. I took solace in the fact he was seeking justice for us.

"No. As much as I love you I don't think it would help my social status to start at Arcadia as the new kid who got dropped off by her dad," I explained trying my best to not make him feel like I was trying to re-erect the walls between us.

He nodded in understanding, "I suppose that wouldn't help matters."

I smiled, glad I had such an understanding father and decided to give him some sort of reassurance, "Don't worry Dad even if we combined our social ineptitude I couldn't possibly be worse off than I had been at Winslow."

Dad laughed a smile crossing his face at the silliness of what I had just suggested. He poured syrup on his pancakes as he asked, "How are you getting to school, bus?"

"I'm going to hit a bus to take me into jogging distance; I do still need to get in my morning run."

"Right, slept in."

"Yep."

-/-

The white facade glowed in the morning light as I approached; my breaths coming out slow and steady despite the fairly long run I was completing. The intense workout regime of Sam's Self Defense and my own running had been paying dividends, nowadays when I said 'jogging distance' it had more to do with the speed at which I moved during my runs and not my ability to actually jog for any particular distance. I slowed to a walk as the part of me that had been wired to control bugs appreciated the windows of the building as the early morning's light caught just right to highlight the multitude of quarter-sized hexagons that made up the their sublayer. The design called to mind compound eyes and honeycombs. How fitting was it that Skitter attended the school?

When I smiled it wasn't just because of the aesthetics and my developing endurance; today was the start of a new leg of my journey through life. A new school to attend devoid of Emmas and Sophias. Arcadia was a breath of fresh air and in some ways it reminded me of the sort of schools you saw in movies. The facilities were well maintained and looked relatively new. Everything was kept comparatively clean and tidy. Trophies were proudly displayed in cabinets that looked like no one ever even tried to break into them. The bulletin boards had advertisements for local businesses, upcoming events, and so forth. Instead of fliers referring to the guidance counselor for dealing with gangs trying to recruit students, it was for dealing with triggering.

I was one of three transfers into Arcadia this week and I couldn't have helped but notice during Sunday afternoon's orientation that we were all fairly similar. We were all girls close to the same height and while the other two might be curvier than me, we matched the same general build. The similarities ended there, we were in different grades and our facial features were vastly different. One of them, Alice, was even a blond. Despite that I was able to easily notice that had we donned the same costume we could have easily passed for one another.

Mr. Abrams who handled orientation didn't even try to wave it off as coincidence either. He handed us smart phones that looked identical to the ones I had associated with the PRT in my last life and explained how we, like all students, would be occasionally called from class, more often if any ward ever matched our general description. And that wasn't even a third of the measures he hinted at being in place to help protect the Wards' identities. I couldn't help but realize that I could use those same measures in tandem with my own to help hide my own identity.

I crossed the threshold thanking any deities that would listen for my chance to put the bullying behind me even if it was visiting me in my dreams. Of course I did have one problem that followed me from Winslow, I had no friends here. However, unlike at my previous school I actually had a chance to make some, thanks to the fact that the terrible trio didn't have any influence here. As one of the new girls I'd undoubtedly draw some attention so I wouldn't even have to work that hard to get an opportunity to make friends. I'd just have to not screw up the chances I'd be afforded.

Easier said than done.

I was glad that I had prior knowledge to work with when it came to navigating Arcadia. My past life's memories surged up to the forefront of my mind subtly reminding me of the school's layout and everything that had happened here. I made a mental note to find some way to distract Greg from putting Taylor and Skitter together. Working off those memories I got to the main office without any trouble

I had spent almost half a week testing before coming here to see where I fell in the scheme of the local curriculum. It hadn't been hard to understand why; Arcadia had a higher standard in both the behavior of their students and the courses they were taught. Luckily my core classes, English and Math were up to par, actually I had scored high enough on some sections that the principal had frowned when I didn't on others. I was, according to her, a few percentage points in either class from being considered knowledgeable enough to have tested out of the year's classes. I jumped from my Art 1 class to an intermediate level, and was put in an advanced class for visual basic. Overall my class schedule was a mirror of the one I had at Winslow. I had Homeroom in a computer lab where I'd be taking Visual Basic 2, after that it was History, Art, Math, the usual hour break for lunch followed by English and a study hall.

My homeroom teacher was Mrs. Campbell, a woman on the far side of sixty that looked like she had likely been beautiful before age caught up to her. She greeted me at one of the doors to her class and identified my computer station by its number and a gesture. One of my immediate neighbors already at his station, the blonde-haired teen was working with a graphics tablet to draw on the computer. The image, thought almost naught but lines, I could already tell was the Triumvirate in a pose that absolutely screamed 'the big damn heroes are here.' I smiled and wondered if anyone was drawing pictures of Skitter.

Right as the tardy bell rang my other neighbor found his seat amidst a yawn. Seemed I wasn't the only one who had been up late the night before. I gave him a casual once over. He had unruly brown hair, eyes of a very light blue color, and- Wait. Kid Win? I blinked and imagined the Ward's red lensed visor largely obscuring his eyes from sight, tamed his hair too. It was him. At least I was pretty sure it was him. I struggled with the odds of Skitter being seated directly next to a Ward. Even with it common knowledge that the Wards attended Arcadia it had a fairly large student body and it was very possible to go through all of high school and not end up even in the same classroom as a Ward. Had the PRT placed me here? No, I had actually swapped my homeroom class during enrollment; originally it was going to be English.

He caught me looking, staring really, out the corner of his eye and in that half drowsy way of someone who just woke up greeted me, "Hey Taylo-"

He cut himself off; his eyes widened as he realized he had just given himself away. The light blue disks shot left and right as if trying to find an escape; he was starting to panic. I offered him smile and ignoring the elephant said, "Morning, Seems you had a busy night."

He seemed confused by the fact I hadn't overtly given any indication that I had realized his blunder and said with not a little trepidation, "Yeah. I had an idea stuck in my head I just had to get out."

"One involving metal, wires, and lens?" I asked in a quiet voice with what I hoped was a playful smile. I could read the disappointment in his face as I none too subtly referenced his other identity. He frowned and I leaned towards him before adding, "I'll tell you what, you don't bring up how we met and what you know I went through and I'll forget you got a thing for red and gold."

He nodded dumbly. But really, how else could you respond in this situation? Realizing I had essentially just black mailed a Ward I added, "So. Look, I really don't want you getting the wrong idea here. I'm not going to do anything with this knowledge. If anything I'm kind of relieved."

"Relieved?"

"Yeah. I now know someone who comes here. Well, I know the ones from Peerless, but not without their masks. I'm not as you could imagine the most socially adroit person around; I wasn't even sure how I'd deal with being the new girl here," I explained, "At least now I've got someone who can help me get acclimatized."

"I can help you with that," Kid Win supplied. He seemed a lot more relaxed now that I had given him some reassurances. A playful smile crossed his slips, "I should start with my name so you're not mentally referring to me as 'that guy' all the time."

"Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea," I admitted sheepishly not quite believing that the thought hadn't occurred to me.

"Chris Mathews," The tinker responded uneasily. I could understand the difficulty in the action; after all he was giving me the last piece to tie everything I knew of Kid Win together. He was being forced to put his trust in someone he really didn't know well at all. Still, he managed a smile and said, "I hope this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

I smiled back. I hoped it was too. I hoped that I'd be able to put my trust in him, to form a friendship. I didn't make friends easy, nor did I trust easy. I blame a lot of things for that but the top scorer had to have been Emma. Her betrayal had been so damaging that I doubt I'd ever be able to trust anyone completely again. I didn't fully trust anyone, not Sara or even the Undersiders in my previous life. I sure as hell don't let people get as close as Emma had been. I even had contingency plans for what to do when, or rather if, the people I was labeling friends betrayed me so I wouldn't be hurt as bad as I was with Emma's own betrayal.

I wish I could say that my trust issues were thanks to my passenger's influence, but I knew all too well it wasn't. It might have exasperated it, but it surely didn't create those issues; they had already been eating away at me for some time before I triggered. Since my reincarnation into this life I had been actively making an effort to move past those issues, to let myself trust people more. Not exactly as easy as it sounds and I don't think it ever will be.

Class started with Mrs. Campbell calling everyone's attention to her and the lesson plan for the day. Speaking of plans, I reached out with my power feeling the daisy chain of relay bugs that linked me all the way back to my lair. I had been planning this for a few days now; correction, closer to two weeks. I woke up my latest creation and prepped a swarm.

-/-

Colin stretched while waiting for the light to turn green. He disliked it when he pulled any of the daylight patrols; statistically most criminal activity occurred at night, or at least after noon. As such the most efficient use of his time was daytime tinkering followed by nighttime patrols and, of course, a few hours of sleep around midmorning if for no other reason than to get Dragon to stop nagging him. He mentally smiled at the thought of the famous tinker, she was one of the few he didn't mind being compared unfavorably to.

The light turned green and he accelerated, the throaty roar of his motorcycle's engine rattling him to the bone. Halfway down the block his radio chirped, with a precise motion of his eyes and a blink he answered and the link crackled. Velocity's voice came over the line, "Armsmaster, Vigilant reports a fire on Twenty Third and Whitmore. Possibly fifteen casualties, parahuman presence, low threat."

"Confirmed," he replied. Colin hated working under Vigilant's visions; his threat analysis assumed he was the one responding and as much as he hated it the tinker had to move the threat up a few notches to account for the differences in their capabilities. Still the visions were hardly ever wrong; There were a few occasions where he arrived at the location a crime was supposed to occur only to find the area deserted. He knew those events were outweighed by the cases where possible crimes were averted just because he drove by on his cycle. It did have a distinctive sound, which was why he had spent time modifying it to be able to run silently when necessary. After all, he hated wasting time. While averting crime wasn't anything to shake his armored fist at, he felt his time would be better spent apprehending actual criminals instead of dissuading possible offenders.

A flick of the eyes and a blink later and massive bike became silent, the only sound was from tires meeting pavement. He was about a mile out when he turned a corner and was able to identify the parahuman involved. Skitter. He hadn't made visual contact with her yet, but he could see the dark coils of bugs under her control weaving into and out of a dilapidated warehouse. He could also hear the panicked screams of her victims. Idly, he wondered how Glenn would handle her when she joined. Gunshots echoed intermediately.

As he came in sight of the building's doors they were flung open and four people who could only be Merchants came running into the road. A swarm of bugs flowed out in coils and descended ahead of them cutting off their escape. And then something happened Armsmaster wouldn't have believed if he heard it second hand: the swarm condensed into Skitter, complete with crawling carpet of insects upon her and a swirling chitinous cloud about her form. That was not an ability listed in the PRT's threat assessment of her.

She gave the Merchants enough time to realize what they were looking at before she struck. Colin watched, observing the way she fought in a normal situation. He had reviewed a number of videos in the wake of her encounter with Shadow Stalker but cell phone videos were never as good as seeing something for yourself. He studied her as she struck with a combination of claw attacks, palm strikes, knees and elbows. More than once she entered into grapples with her much larger opponents, but he noted she always utilized joint locks and her grasping claws to control the encounter. The maneuvers allowed her to reposition when necessary and maintain a greater control over the battle. He had to admit, he was impressed by her simple martial capability. It wasn't the refined art of a master, but she was obviously learned in some martial art even if he couldn't quite place the style.

That's not to say that she wasn't making use of her parahuman arsenal, the nebula of bugs around her sometimes obscured the cape from sight as an opponent swung. Colin's thermal had trouble picking her out from the swarm. He assumed it was either a byproduct of her costume or she could be breaking apart into members of her swarm to avoid an attack. At other points the swarm itself attacked, either stinging or outright smashing into the Merchants. One went down with a broken nose. Another fell and was almost instantly set upon by a wave of spiders that left the thug cocooned in their wake. She burst apart and flowed behind them before reforming and attacking anew. Another went down, tripping himself as he threw a punch and found his arm tethered by strands of web to his leg. Flying bugs descended. Weaver wasps he noted, as they went about binding the merchant to the ground.

Overall if Colin had to use one word to describe seeing the teen in action it was beautiful. Her tactics, if not her movements themselves, were possessed of a brutal efficiency. Every action was calculated; each used for specific purposes. He could see the movements meant to invoke terror, the ones to stun and cow her victims, and those that would remove them from the battle. She practically danced around the group as if the fight was choreographed. That wasn't to say she was a paragon of skill, no, he could spot small flaws in her form despite being a style he wasn't familiar with. The way she flowed around her opponents suggested an amount of insight into their actions that was possibly parahuman in degree. In fact, the actions recalled his tests with his combat analyzer. She wasn't possessed of super human speed or reflexes; she was predicting their actions.

Then she paused and her head jerked so she was looking at the building. Her remaining opponent drew a revolver and shot her in the back and she stumbled forward. The entire swarm that had been flowing around the battle collapsed on to the gun wielding ruffian. The crush was accented by a very unmanly scream. Skitter hadn't pulled herself out of the crouch she had ended up in, instead she had pulled out a cellphone and dialed. Armsmaster reflexively reached out and tapped into the phone. According to his HMD the phone was registered to a Samuel Johnson, judging from the database entry Mr. Johnson was a gang member of some descript. The phone was likely something she looted off the man in question. That didn't mean Colin wasn't going to rundown the lead until he found the connection, it just wasn't pertinent to the current situation.

"911 emergency services. What is the nature of your emergency?"

"A warehouse is on fire at one three five Whitmore Drive. Several people trapped inside," Colin felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound of her 'voice.' He had noted the response before and could only account it as a reaction of hindbrain at the distinctly inhuman nature of the words.

The dispatcher on the other end of the call seemed to have experienced the same reaction as her voice quivered just slightly as she asked, "Who is this?"

"Skitter. Have the responders bring wire cutters and prepped for toxic fumes. The warehouse is a drug lab. The product is on fire."

"Alright, will do. Help should arrive short-"

The cape hung up and turned towards him, "Can you seal up your helmet?"

"Yes," He replied as he dismounted and noticed that smoke that was starting to waft out of the windows. The bug themed cape simply nodded and strode into the burning building with no hint of fear. He hesitated long enough to retrieve his halberd before entering the rapidly spreading inferno.

-/-

I frowned as second period ended. I was busy moving Proxy through the burning drug lab while simultaneously leading Armsmaster and the firefighters that had already arrived on the scene to my victims. Annoyingly some of the Merchants were still trying to fight me. Unless they managed to kill the Proxy bug that was concealed in the center of my simulacrum there was no way to actually kill her. That was no easy task since the form she was in had been designed to emulate my costumed identity down to the tiniest detail and as such shared my more than adequate durability.

One such example of this skewed perspective involved an overweight Merchant, a shotgun, and a load of buckshot throwing my stand-in into a burning wall. Proxy's hair nearly caught fire as she levered herself off the plywood wall that had partially collapsed when she crashed into it. I'm not sure if that said more about the Merchants' construction capabilities or just how bad the fire had spread. I didn't have time to devote to any sort of extended action within the burning building so I had the simulacrum pounce on the chubby gangbanger and unleash a series of powerful electric pulses into his body until the fight left him. Proxy followed this up by levering the overweight Merchant up to his feet and draping a meaty arm across the simulacrum's shoulder before starting back towards where I knew the firefighters were.

Emergency dispatch apparently took my warning to heart, since when an ambulance arrived the paramedics it disgorged were wearing breathing gear as well. I handed the fat man off as I redirected a firefighter whose route had just been blocked by a stack of crates coming down ahead of him. I sent Proxy back in. Most of my valuable bugs were stashed away well away from the heat of the flames, the remainder of my swarm was either tied up in Proxy's form, guiding the rescuers, or mapping out the rapidly changing situation within the building.

I had never thought about it before, but search and rescue like this was like a puzzle or a game of strategy. Find routes to the people caught inside; direct rescue workers to them while simultaneously recalculating routes based on the building's stability, heat, and so forth to ensure you got everyone out. Of course people could die if you screwed up; they could die even if you succeeded. Some things were just out of your control and you had to accept that. What was the saying? Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. I had trouble with the first and last.

-/ Math (4th period –lunch)
"Hey Taylor," Chris greeted me as he walked up to me. He had offered to guide me to each of my classes so I wouldn't end up wandering aimlessly through the halls. Arcadia actually had a fairly straight forward, though not intuitive, way of identifying the rooms so I probably could have found my own way. But if he wanted to do this for me I wasn't going to push him away. I just hope he didn't feel like he had to since I knew about his life as a Ward.

"Hi Chris. Mr. Lowe's Math is next."

"Yeah, he only teaches two classes a day. I'm in that one with you."

"Oh."

"Are you good at math?" he asked uncertainly.

"Fairly why?"

"I've got trouble with it. And there's an empty seat next to mine," he said leaving the obvious request for help unspoken.

"You want me to check things for you?"

"Yeah. Mr. Lowe generally teaches a quick lesson and gives us busy work. I actually have trouble with it," Chris told me while wringing his hands. Even as socially inept as I I could recognize the tinker's discomfort at the topic we were veering towards.

Like a car wreck you see coming from a mile away I inwardly cringed as I asked, "If you don't mind me asking, why? I'd imagine math would come fairly easy for you all things considered."

"I…have dyscalculia," The Ward admitted and damn if his posture hadn't changed enough to make me feel like I had just kick a puppy.

"Oh. I suppose that would make things difficult."

"You didn't even ask what that means," he said sounding somewhat surprised.

"It literally translates 'to count badly.' My mom was real big on expanding my vocabulary." I explained. Well Mom was one that got me into reading and through that helped expand my vocabulary a great deal.

"Oh. I actually didn't know that's its literal translation," he said before shrugging, "Makes sense though."

"Well we're in school might as well learn something right?" I joked. Poorly.

Chris made an affirmative sound as we headed up a flight of stairs while on the other side of town Proxy was helping a firefighter whom had been injured as one of the struts of the roof failed. It was unnaturally hot within the drug house now, enough so that the heat itself was affecting my simulacrum. Breathing was even worse; I estimated that I'd lost a few hundred of the composite bugs as her lungs were burned. I had repaired them as best as I could by shifting biomass from the swarm into Proxy using the bug's severely weakened version of my bio-manipulation power. The feedback was horrible. Every time I used the power to form, scatter, or repair her form my migraine made itself known.

Even with the repairs I was affecting on her body however, Proxy was coughing up a storm and not everything coming through the psychic link from her senses was correct. I needed a quicker way out of the warehouse and lacking a more subtle approach I called in Atlas. I had used him to ferry Proxy, in full form, so Skitter could be spotted riding the bug to and from the scene. As such he wasn't even that far away. I guided him high into the sky before having him dive towards the warehouse. I never really considered using him in this capacity… never seriously at least, but he did have the mass and velocity. In short order his trajectory flattened out and the massive bug rammed into the side of the building. The brick wall lost that fight and a new exit was created a dozen feet ahead of Proxy and the injured fire fighter. I heard the fire fighter swear at the sight.

I commented, "Exit stage left?"

The man leaning on Proxy's shoulder for support coughed out a laugh. As we escaped the building Armsmaster walked over to us and asked, "Are you alright?"

Proxy nodded, "Need to invest in a gas mask or something."

The tinker gave me a slight smile, "I incorporated a breathing apparatus into my gear after nearly drowning."

"Must have been early in your career to not have that base covered," I offered as I helped the injured firefighter to the waiting paramedics.

"My second outing." He said. I briefly wondered why he had volunteered the information when it hit me; he was trying to establish a rapport to help ease me into the Wards. I decided I actually didn't mind that as he switched gears and asked, "We have thirty seven merchants is that all of them?"

"Twenty four people in underwear and thirteen gang members? Yeah. That's all of them."

"You did good work here," Armsmaster said, the firefighter echoed the sentiment with a good bit more intensity.

"Thanks," I replied to Defiant-Armsmaster before turning towards the firefighter, "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I don't feel worthy of your thanks. I think people like you, the cops, firefighters, paramedics, and the like; those who rush to trouble to help as best they can with no powers to rely on to see them safely through, as being the true heroes. Having the chance to directly, or even indirectly, assist you in your duties is my way of thanking you for putting on the uniform and doing your duty each day."

Both the firefighter and the paramedic were red in the face from not just the heat of the burning building as I turned away and asked Armsmaster while motioning over to where Atlas was just emerging from the hole he made in the wall, "I'm not going to get in trouble for doing that right?"

"No. If you were a Ward the Director would give you a few words to remind you that collateral damage should be avoided when possible. I think she'd accept not dying of smoke inhalation as a good reason for knocking down a wall."

"Was that a joke?"

"No. We are going to need a statement."

I nodded, "Can I add a voiceover to my eye cam footage and hand that in like I do with the police?"

"Yes," he answered curtly. Somehow I imagined that he'd be looking over the videos I had submitted within the day. I knew Colin well enough to not take offense to that either, as a Tinker his effectiveness relied heavily on being prepared for any eventuallity. My ending up on the wrong side of a skirmish was one such possibility he couldn't ignore.

"I'll e-mail it to the Director later then."

Armsmaster nodded as I headed towards the rest of the firefighters looking for a way to assist them in combating the flames. I was already starting to wonder if there were any natural fire retardants; and how difficult it would be to incorporate that into some sort of bug. For now though, I'd settle with having Atlas carry a firefighter upon his back with a fire hose to allow access to the upper areas of the blaze.

-/-

To say Chris had problems with math was an understatement. I explained the lesson three times to him before he caught on to it and even then he was using a calculator to do even basic functions. I had to wonder how he dealt with the math that must be involved in his tinkering. Did his power allow him to overcome the difficulties when it was in relation to his work? If that was the case it would be frustrating when you went from solving problems involving relativity and time dilation to being confounded by long division.

Still we got through math class in due time and found ourselves heading towards the cafeteria. I had long since set Proxy back to base. Now I was starting to regret not having sent her patrolling; maneuvering the relay bugs to maintain a connection would have helped distract me from lunch. Say what you will about it but I didn't particularly care to go into the cafeteria. I wasn't exactly afraid per say, more like apprehensive. After all I didn't have a good track record in cafeterias mostly thanks to the terrible trio and this particular cafeteria was where I had been outed by the PRT.

"Something wrong, Taylor?" Chris asked, making me shift my line of thought. I hadn't realized I was being so easy to read. I'd have to work on that somehow.

"I haven't eaten in a cafeteria in a long while. The bullying," I said by way of an explanation.

The pregnant pause that followed was just long enough for my mind to start going down dark paths before the tinker nodded his head in understanding and spoke, "Don't worry, that doesn't typically happen here. I should know, with my disabilities I practically scream 'acceptable target.' Yet I've never once been a victim of bullying here."

I latched on to the last word wondering, not for the first time, how many people triggered due to bullying. Just here in Brockton Bay there were at least two teens that had. Before I remembered my tact I asked, "Is that how?"

"No. I actually don't remember mine, it happened in my sleep I think," he said in a slightly hushed tone as we walked almost shoulder to shoulder.

I felt like an idiot when I replied, "Oh. Well at least yours doesn't qualify as 'worst day ever' material then." That wasn't because of my words exactly, but the fact I had brought up the subject. As a cape myself I knew better than that, but even worse I was asking in a public place and while I wasn't being particularly loud or outright outing him I sure as hell could be calling attention to him in a way and a place he couldn't afford it.

"Yeah." Chris said the expression downcast before he mentally shifted gears and patted me on the shoulder, "Don't worry 'bout lunch though, you can sit with me and the cape geeks."

"Cape geeks?" I asked well aware that my voice carried my disbelief. If it was one clique I'd make a conscious decision to stay away from it would probably be people who pay enough attention to the cape scene to be called cape geeks.

"Yeah the guys who are totally into capes. You know the Parahumans Online goers, the identity hunters, and so forth. Those guys," Chris elaborated apparently mistaking my tone of voice for uncertainty.

"Isn't that kinda?"

"Dangerous? No, not really," he said. A grin that was all Kid Win spreading across his face as he asked, "Where's the best place to hide?"

The answer was one I knew well from my time as a victim. The ability to hide was one of the most basic survival tools and one I learned well, "Plain sight, right under their noses, and the last place they'd look."

"Right. Besides, they're mostly harmless and generally good people. They just have a shitty hobby at times," he agreed drawing a small smile from me. If anything, this would prove interesting.

-/-

Five minutes later I was sitting down with Chris at a table full of the nerd population. I couldn't help but notice the stench too; at least one person was in need of a bath. I was introduced as 'Taylor, the new girl from the docks.' That made my eyebrow rise. I lived in the grey zone between the docks proper where most gangs operated and the more respectable areas, so it was a little odd that Chris had specified in my introduction that I lived in the docks itself. Then again I knew that almost nine tenths of the student body at Arcadia was upper middle class or better, so maybe he was using it as shorthand for 'she's poor.'

The others introduced themselves; some even gave me little things to help remember them by. Josh literally introduced himself as a gamemaster for the local Vigilantes and Villains group and Barbara, one of the two girls at the table, called herself an amateur photographer and sleuth.

Lanny, the other girl, asked a question I'd pretty much had prepared myself for on our way over, "So who's your favorite cape in the city?"

"Name a hero and I probably like them for some reason. Especially the Wards," I said. And it was true; most of the heroes had something you could point out to say why you'd like them easily enough. Well except maybe Glory Girl. The comment about the Wards wasn't just because Kid Win was sitting directly to my left, but because Taylor had the most exposure to them. So naturally I should like them more.

There was more than a few grins in response and Lanny shrugged before asking, "Gallant?"

"Steampunk meets medieval knight with a heart of gold, what's not to like?" I responded with a smirk. Even if my only real encounter with him had been during the bank robbery in my last life I had to admit, he did look pretty darn cool. My interactions with him in this life had warmed me up to the Ward considerably more, he at least acted the gentleman.

"He does look pretty badass in his armor," Jeff said. He was wheelchair-bound and had introduced himself as being the techie of the group, "And the way he moves in it? Obviously of the powered variety. Full on awesome right there."

"How 'bout Kid Win?" Damien asked. Damien was the token Black of the group and from what I was told the most intelligent of said group; he apparently had the IQ tests to prove it.

"Lasers equal victory. Not to mention he's a tinker so twice the win...well three times given his name," I responded earning a snort from Chris and a few chuckles from the others.

"Vigilant?" Josh asked around a spoonful of food. I couldn't help but notice the notepad and pencil sitting nearby was both already splattered with a small amount of spaghetti sauce and possessed a few scribbled in lines.

"A grounded Alexandria package helping the common man. And he's got the whole heroic modesty down pat, so he's easy to like?" I explained. While I did have a fair amount of interaction with the hero before I had my costume completed I hadn't really got much sense of him beyond the heroic persona he presented.

"And that body," Barbara intoned before letting out an appreciative moan, "Perfect abs and everything."

"Oh please no, my self-esteem can't take that kind of hit," Luke, the tallest and most traditionally handsome of the group, groaned; not surprising given that Barbara had introduced him as her boyfriend.

"How about some of the girls," Marcus asked. Marcus Allan I was pretty sure was the reason the group was untouchable, he had a fighter's physique and the rough skin visible over his knuckles suggested that he was exactly as advertised. Still, one need only hear him speak to know he was a 'gentle giant'. I suspected that if he ever triggered he'd make a great hero.

"Glory Girl flaunts her power a lot, but genuinely seems to want to be a hero. Panacea…well the world could use more people like her. Brandish and Lady Photon are like soccer moms with super powers and is every kid's mama bear," I belted off in rapid succession.

"Laser Dream?" Jeff asked, pointing out the only female of New Wave I had missed.

I had forgotten about her, she wasn't exactly someone I encountered much in my previous life or this one. And that had been severely clouded by the very recent deaths of her brother and father, If there was one thing that stood out about her it was the professionalism she displayed in that situation. I wasn't going to say that but I could still answer easily enough, "As I said with Kid Win; lasers equal victory. You can't outrun light."

Barbara poised the next one while pantomiming shooting with both her hands, "Miss Militia?"

"I've got a poster of her on my wall at home. Seriously, her power is basically guns. With that kind of power you'd expect her to have a kill 'em all code but she personifies heroism, professionalism, and calmness."

"Vista," Lanny queried.

"Is Vista, 'nuff said," I countered. Truth was I didn't really have much of an opinion on her one way or the other. The only time I had worked with her was when we fought the Nine the second time and even then she was usually in a different group and had significantly matured over what I believe was a very childlike persona she had before. So current Vista? No real comment there.

"I'm going chat with Dean real quick," Chris said before slipping away. I was confused for a moment, who was Dean? I watched him head towards what I had mentally dubbed the popular tables waving. I noted his pinky and thumb were folded in, it would have been hard to spot, but I had a few bugs watching the scene. I had my suspicions but I wasn't going to let my mind go in that direction. If Dean was another Ward, Chris was probably going to tell him that I knew Kid Win's identity that way if we ever encountered one another, especially around Chris, he'd know to watch his words more closely.

"So, you and Chris?" Jeff asked wiggling his eyebrows, 'I didn't know he had it in him."

The others shared a few chuckles between them at Chris's expense. I didn't really know what to make of that sort of thing. While I had had almost two years with the Chicago Wards and my time with the Undersiders, my social acumen was lacking. Was everyone making jokes about one of their own acceptable? It didn't matter at the moment really, it was more important to clear this up before they assumed it to be truth. I replied, "Not really. I have homeroom next to him and I had met him once before transferring so he's pretty much the only person I knew beforehand."

"Damn, I was hoping he was coming out of his shell a bit more," Damien said with a sigh. While It was reassuring that they weren't just being trolls, it did make me question what i knew of him. Chris seemed pretty open to me. Maybe that was just because we where both capes, "Little dude never comes hang out with us after school unless it's something preplanned."

"That's because he works," Barbara countered before inquiring, "Remember?"

"He can't possibly be working all the time," Damien said. I couldn't help but think it funny. They'd probably feel stupid if they knew he was Kid Win. Of course he's always busy, he's a tinker.

"Maybe we don't even know where he works. For all we know he might be running between two jobs or something. I mean we know he's got financial problems at home," Jeff said throwing his two cents in.

"You're saying that he's working two jobs or something to help pay rent?"

"Yeah," Jeff answered. I had to admit, while I didn't know the situation, the idea that a Ward might need to work for the PRT to provide for his family was a little surprising. None of the Chicago Wards had been struggling financially and after my time as a villain I had never even bothered to pay mind to my own finances.

"I know I'm the odd one out when it comes to my family's earning so I'll just say it's possible," I said trying to get the obviously more financially privileged a look at the other side of the fence, "Last summer I actually worked three jobs. I had my morning run, opening at Dominos, afternoons at Sonic, and closing at McDonalds."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Dad wasn't too fond of me working so much but I got him to sign the forms anyway," And of course I didn't admit that the reason Dad had caved was because how the past due notices were piling up. In short, we needed the extra money from my working, it was one of the few reasons why we'd managed to keep the house. My memories of this life actually included my dad and I getting into a verbal fight over it.

"My parents won't let me work until I graduate," Marcus said reinforcing the imagining of a more privlieged upbringing my classmates received by virtue of birth. I hoped this didn't end up being a thing.

"What's it like? Being poor?" Lanny said in a half whispering tone that made her joking extremely obvious.

I made a face and replied, "I'm not even going to dignify that question with an actual response."

"Ouch. How about we get back to capes. You know the stuff we can talk about without possibly hurting anyone's feelings?" Jeff asked. I couldn't help but be thankful for the wheelchair-bound teen's intervention. It wasn't so much as a sore subject as to be just plain old being in bad taste.

"No feelings hurt," I said, "I just don't think it's worth holding a conversation over. So who was the next cape?"

There was a fairly lengthy pause as everyone shifted gears only ended by Damien putting forth a rather familiar cape's name, "Armsmaster?"

I could probably write an entire report on him given the amount of interaction I had with him in my past life. Instead I shrugged, "He's pretty cool. I mean they guy goes into melee against the likes of Endbringers without having any innate powers instead relying on skill to save his hide. I've got to respect him on that alone. Besides that? Fucking tinkers."

There were nods all around. A moment later Chris sat back down next to me as Lanny posed the next hero, "On the subject of team leaders, Aegis?"

"I've actually met him so-"

"Wait you met Aegis?" Barbara asked cutting me off mid-sentence as her interest skyrocketed. Her eyes grew saucer-like as she provided me with her undivided attention. Right, I forgot, these are the cape geeks. I'd have to be careful how much I said given the amount of interaction I had as Taylor to the cape community.

"Yeah..." I said dragging the word out cautiously. Why did I have to open my big mouth? Well, no backing out now, "I go to Peerless, we're in the same class."

"Peerless?" Jeff asked, just by his expression I knew he had no idea what I was talking about. I had to bite back the retort about them turning in their secret decoder rings for not knowing the name of Sensei Nakamura's dojo.

"Peerless Kung Fu. The Steel Claw's dojo," Marcus explained saving me from having to do so myself while cementing my previously observations as to the legitimacy of his fighter's physique.

"Oh, sweet. Wait, you know Kung Fu?"

"A little," I said trying my best to downplay my knowledge. Compared to my peers in the class I did know only a little Kung Fu, but here I was pretty sure I had more practical combat experience than anyone else at the table.

"So what's Aegis really like?"

I made myself think about it before responding despite the eyes on me, "Restrained mostly."

"Restrained?"

"Remember most of my interactions with him involve trying to kick him in the face and stuff. Because he's got super strength he has to treat the world like it's made of cardboard. That need to hold back filters down into his personality, everything he does and says is measured. But under the restraint he's pretty much what you saw in the various interviews. He likes to banter and crack jokes. He's kind and quick to live up to his name."

"Do we even have anyone like that here? I mean someone who fits with what Taylor's saying and the body shape and skin tone?" Josh asked.

He received a few shrugs in response and I jumped at the chance, "You know, you're assuming that the Wards go to this school because that's what you've always heard. Because New Wave's kids come here too, but what if it was a smoke screen? What if there were only maybe one or two Wards attending here and the rest of them attended Winslow, Immaculata, or Clarendon? Take Kid Win for example, two thirds of his face is exposed as well as the majority of his hair. If he went here with everyone already looking for someone that fits his appearance how long do you think it would take for someone to unmask him? A few weeks I'd say. But if he say goes to Winslow like I used to then people would be that much more unlikely to put the numbers together."

"She has a point," Jeff admitted, "We make assumptions based on data we're provided by the people who want to keep their identities a secret when it's in their best interests to point us in the wrong direction."

"What was Winslow like?" Barbara asked innocently. I had to remind myself that they didn't know what sort of loaded topic that was for me. But it was better to head this off now so it wouldn't come up ever again.

"Shitty," I said decisively, "I'd rather not talk about anything involving that school."

"That bad?"

"Yes," I ground out to make it obvious that I was not going to answer more questions on the subject. It seemed to have the desired effect as everyone shifted uncomfortably and looked at each other for direction.

"So…" Lanny said to fill the silence as everyone tried to come up with something on the spot having not expected me to shut down that line of conversation so quickly. Crap, I killed the conversation.

We were collectively saved from the horror of an awkward silence, by Barbara whom I was beginning to realize was far more at ease in social interactions than the rest of the table's occupants; myself included. She asked, "What kind of hobbies do you have?"

I hadn't expected that one. Hobbies were practically a foreign concept to me; everything I did was to prepare myself for cape activities or was said activities. I couldn't very well say that so I fudged it, "My interest in martial arts is the obvious one. I also do a daily jogging routine and probably could join a track team on the merits of that alone, but that's more or less just exercise.

"I suppose these a bit of a cape geek in me. I do spend a fair amount of time reading up on the local scene, though admittedly that's more so I know which ones are which. If I come across a cape I'd like to know if I should be running away really fast or asking for an autograph, " I said earning a chuckle, "I use to do some gaming, nothing serious, but I've got a Gamecube sitting in my living room. I…kinda haven't played any games in a long while though."

"A Gamecube?" Damien said, "Man, we're going to have to introduce you to real gaming."

I shook my head in disbelief, "And maybe I'll return the favor by introducing you to martial arts."

-/-

Three and a half hours later found me watching a mannequin move around in starts and stops with overcompensating and generally clumsy movements. I was getting better at it for all it was worth, but I was already considering this a failure.

The mannequin wore a single layer bodysuit the served as the anchoring point for all the muscle that I had layered over it. The musculature was based on that of a human with some adjustments that Panacea had come up with over our last two meetings. Unfortunately, as most of the organism was of human origin it sat at the very edge of my power's influence; that in turn resulted in its sluggish execution of my commands.

Even excluding that there were other problems; it was too bulky, didn't provide enough strength for its weight, and burned through the fat stores far too quickly for my liking. I was considering making the musculature denser to cut down on the profile but I knew that doing that wouldn't solve any of my other problems. It was looking progressively more certain that I'd need to go all in, adding the exoskeleton to even the design's simplest variation.

I wasn't too happy with that. The exoskeleton, if my math was remotely right, was going to be heavy and end up requiring me to either produce new gauntlets for the suit or just go with a single loadout. I wasn't really a fan of either of those ideas. I also didn't think I'd care all that much for the complete package even if it performed to expectations. I'm used to being relatively light and fast; the powered exoskeleton would be pushing me towards, if not outright into, brute territory. The massive shift in my weight and strength would mean having to learn an entirely new way to perform even simple movements. I was not looking forward to that.

I sighed and turned towards where Proxy sat on a stool relatively unmoving. I wasn't actively controlling her at the moment so she was in 'broodmother' mode, checking that the swarm was healthy, performing the tasks I had set, and so forth. Such management of the swarm was something I could do easily without really losing my focus for whatever I was currently working on. That said, I was having Proxy perform the task so I could check her 'programming' to make sure everything was working correctly. While I had spent last night home, I had daisy-chained relay bugs to the lair so I could keep an eye on her over the night, tonight I wanted to break the link between us to see how things would go without my supervision.

In her native form Proxy appeared as a heavy carapaced derivative of a weaver wasp that had been swelled to a five inch body length. Proportionally its abdomen was larger than even that of a queen, and instead of containing a spinneret or stinger the bug's relatively massive brain was housed within. With all the mass dedicated to brain matter it hadn't been hard to make the bug rather intelligent or to form the corona pollentia and gemma. It was hard to get everything functioning properly while maintaining enough bug qualities that it didn't disappear from my powers' influence. I learned a lot about how my own corona pollentia and gemma were structured and what each variation I had seen between myself and other parahumans meant. For example Proxy's control range only extended out to two blocks and her bio-manipulation was tailored to be used to solely to shape herself into the programmed Skitter form or break the form down to its constituent parts.

That form was identical to my own costumed form in as many ways as I was able to test for. Proxy felt, looked, moved, and sounded like the real deal. She even showed up on thermal and ultraviolet the same way as I did. That by itself was rather amazing, but what had really made me giddy was the knowledge that the form could dismantle and reform countless times without losing any detail. Even the non-living components of my costume were present and accounted for, the spider silk and lenses were actually constructed on the spot with the rest of the form while the cameras and mics were borne by specialized bugs. The only thing she didn't have was my cellphone though she did possess something that looked like it. As long as Skitter never had to answer a phone call I was okay.

Well, I had no idea how certain powers would react to her. Would Tattletale be able to tell it wasn't me? How about Gallant's emotion vision? The latter was going to get tested tonight. I was going to attend class as Taylor and then still be visible when 'Skitter' showed up for class afterwards. Nakamura and Sara already knew about Proxy so they wouldn't be surprised, hell I had fine-tuned my control and presentation with them on Sunday. My main concern was that Gallant would be able to sense the difference.

-/-

Dennis was late. In fact he was sixteen minutes and twenty three seconds late as he stepped into the elevator that would take him to the Wards headquarters. If the tours were running to schedule, he'd have another four minutes to get to his room and change before the warning sounded. He knew this without a doubt because ever since he had awakened here he knew time. It was one of the new aspects of his power.

He checked his Wards phone, three text messages; the earliest was from Armsmaster that he received between sixth and seventh periods of school. School. He hated having to sit through it again. He had tried to get Piggot to let him simply test out the rest of it but she wouldn't have any of it. It didn't help that right now he was in lower third of his class grade wise. Not his fault he was too bored to pay attention to school. He was sure that if he'd been a tinker Piggot would have been more amenable to the idea of pulling him from school. Chris had actually wanted to stay in school; he liked having an excuse for interacting with people his age that he'd likely never get otherwise.

Armsmaster wanted to borrow him, or rather his powers after the Ward's patrol. He was holding a few incentives over the request. Thanks to Piggot and Miss Militia he could decline the boss without feeling like he was going to get slapped for it. But with the carrots he was dangling around he had probably come up with an idea of some sort and needed more time to get it worked out. Or he had realized Dragon had feelings for him and…no. This is Armsmaster after all; the guy had a sense of social awareness that would leave even the most socially inept dumbfounded.

The second message was from Missy, who had linked a video she posted to Youtube of her afternoon training session. It showcased several hamster balls, complete with rodents inside, rolling around the open floor of one of the training halls. The ground started rapidly warping sending the balls into collision courses with one another only to suddenly veer away or for one to be ramped over the other. From there on a complicated series of rapid distortions of space occurred. The normally smooth floor looked like a quickly changing skate park. Dennis's head hurt just looking at it. Missy's power was swiftly growing more pronounced, her shaping of space was such that a few days ago when she had been in the sights of a gun she was able to snap a wall up out the ground to deflect a bullet before shooting a bar out the already distorted space to knock the weapon away. Of course, this came with a cost, the rapid distortions were far more mentally taxing then the slower effects she had worked with in his previous life.

The final message was from their fearless leader who relayed that Dennis had been assigned to monitor duty when he got in. That wasn't surprising; Carlos used monitor duty as something of a punishment. The only person that particular 'punishment' didn't apply to had been Shadow Stalker and that was because none of them wanted her on monitor duty. Well, her and Chris; the tinker would occasionally volunteer for the duty and simply multitask between it and his tinkering. Or, at least, he'd try to multitask.

When the elevator opened he was greeted by the voices of his friends and coworkers, "I think your theory about Skitter has a big hole in it."

"How so?" Carlos queried the group's tinker.

Chris tapped some keys on the computer bringing up a file. Even from as far away as he was Dennis could tell it was an incident report, "Skitter was sighted by Armsmaster this morning. Taylor started attending Arcadia today; she was in homeroom and Math with me. Taylor was in classes with me during the same period that Skitter was also in Armsmaster's sight; ergo if Taylor is Skitter then she has to have the power to literally be in two places at once."

"It was a swarm form?"

"No this was Skitter herself, chitin and spider web armor and everything. Besides, Armsmaster encountered her in the Docks. That's well out of any sort of range we've attributed to her."

"Well fuck."

Dennis smiled as he entered the locker room. A few choice comments came to mind but he pushed them aside. Messing with Carlos about his rather obvious infatuation with a certain bug controlling horror was too easy, even Dean was getting in on it. The expression disappeared as redheaded hero opened the locker containing his costume; the idea that Skitter of all people was a reincarnate was frightening. He hoped that if it was actually true that she was from one of the other realities, preferably one where she had been a hero throughout her life.

Most people thought of Dennis as the stupid one of the Wards because of how he clowned around, he wasn't. Both Dean and Carlos had lower IQ test results, though that really didn't say much. But while he knew his past life clouded his judgment he made a very pointed effort to try not to prejudge people based on those memories. This was a different world after all and even those who were reincarnated were markedly different from his origin reality. He didn't have to look any further than if own family. His mother wasn't disappearing into a bottle as her husband wasted away with leukemia. His father's leukemia was in recession and had been since shortly before Dennis had joined the Wards. He had told Panacea about it and the healer assured him that if he ever regressed she'd pay him a visit.

He slipped his helmet on and as soon as the contact was made seals engaged and the HMD booted up. Dennis loved his new costume; it was far more armored than before and the technological aspects of it had been significantly improved. The gauntlet he wore on his left arm was a good example of this; it was an outright piece of powered armor that made his hand look almost half again as large and while it still possessed the fingertip-mounted wire launchers the cables had been redesigned to allow him greater versatility with their use. Hell, he could use them like a grapple gun. His helmet, besides the obvious modifications to the faceplate, had things like a rebreather, the aforementioned head-mounted display, and other pieces of tech incorporated into its design.

He rounded out his costume with a gun belt that doubled as a utility belt. He had fought with PR about the gun, a lot. He argued that the weapon would give him a means of dealing with threats at ranges greater than his finger wires could reach, and PR argued over the fact that he was a minor and his openly carrying would reflect poorly on the PRT. Never mind that his teammate walked around with two blaster pistols on his hips or Miss Militia had never been limited when she had been a Ward all those years ago. Chris eventually solved the problem by producing a rather large revolver-style blaster that was covered in segmented plating that matched his costume and manage to harkened back to the big irons worn by law keepers in spaghetti westerns. After checking its chamber to ensure it was loaded with nonlethal munitions, He slammed said weapon into the holster.

As he walked back into the common room he called out, "Minute 'til tour."

-/-

I was pushing myself a bit more than normal today. I redirected Gallant's punch and punched him in the armpit. The sound he made let me know I had hit him too hard; not surprising the armpit was one of those sensitive areas no one really thought about. I had on my first time meeting Gallant as Taylor made a point of asking about his powers so when I made myself feel apologetic I knew it wouldn't cause suspicion. I wasn't sure if he could actually read that sort of emotional nuance but it was the thought that counted, right?

He caught me when I tried to feint a roundhouse kick before throwing a side kick. He put me to the mat in some sort of leg hold that left me more or less at his mercy. Well as I glanced back I noticed an error on his part and said, "I think I could bring my left leg up and hit your groin."

He looked down, "Yeah, not sure about the amount of force though."

"I'm tapping anyway. No way am I going to be known as the girl who kicked Gallant in the balls."

He chuckled as he released me, "Thanks for that."

He helped me to my feet before I said, "You're definitely getting better."

"Yeah, I should have been attending classes here a lot longer. I feel like an idiot."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Aegis said as he joined us and slapped Gallant on the shoulder. It was getting late in the class so much so that some of the parental units had arrived and was passing time watching the sparring groups.

I took a moment to glance around. Felix and Sensei Nakamura were sparring, drawing most of the attention in the room. What was left was mainly taken by Jamie who was floating a foot off the ground while talking with some of the parents and their brood. She did a little twist in the air drawing a few chuckles. Considering the lack of attention the Wards and I had I broached a sensitive subject in a near whisper, "So any problems with me knowing about Win?"

"As long as you don't go spreading it around, not really. We should be getting you to the headquarters to get you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. We'll need your Dad present for that though."

I nodded and while already well aware of the answer asked, "Wards are in PRT HQ, right?"

"Yeah."

"You should probably just have the thing cover all the Wards, I mean I already know two and have suspicions of a third," I said turning toward Gallant, "That'd be you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Starts with D?" Gallant frowned in response, "So one signature to cover the entire team would be best. I also made a point of throwing a bit of doubt on the idea of you guys attending Arcadia."

"How and Why?"

"By making note of the fact that Arcadia could be used as a decoy while the real Wards attend elsewhere. Why should be obvious, I've been there one day and already know one and from someone's reaction, likely another. I know my situation is somewhat unique but it doesn't exactly bode well for your secrets if I'm able to determine that much that quickly."

The bugs I had on the clock in Nakamura's office informed me that the class was actually running long. It was time for Skitter to make an appearance; time to see if Gallant could tell the difference. I had Proxy and a decent-sized swarm sitting on the roof of a building a block and a half away. I stirred them into action flying them here and through the door that had been opened by an arriving guardian. There were a few shouts of surprise and fear as the swarm rushed in and collapsed into Skitter just shortly inside the room. The Wards, hell almost everyone, had stopped to see what the commotion was about. I saw the capes relax once they spotted Proxy. I had her form in mid-step and just walk like it was the most normal thing in the world. Aegis muttered something just too quiet for me to hear him before Gallant smirked and said, "Looks like you owe Clock some money."

Some sort of bet with Clockblocker? I wondered what exactly the terms were. I schooled my features and heart before I making myself feel a bit dejected. I had a part to play, "I haven't seen her in a while."

"You haven't?" Gallant inquired.

"No, she cut contact the same day you guys visited Winslow."

"Didn't know," the empath said as his teammate walked over to my other self. He actually sounded a bit apologetic about the situation I was presenting as if it was his fault.

"A little showy today?" Aegis asked 'Skitter.'

The simulacrum shrugged, "Not really. If I wanted to be dramatic about it I would have brought more bugs. I just wasn't paying as much attention to the number of people here as normal."

He shook his head, "I think that entrance drew everyone's attention except Sensei and Felix. I didn't know you could actually discorporate into your swarm."

"It's not the most pleasant experience. Somewhat taxing and all that so I use it sparingly," I lied. The fiction wasn't entirely untrue; the feedback gave me headaches so I wasn't going to be using it overmuch. The capability was going to help sell the more dramatic entrances and exits I had been using since I debuted in this life. Similarly, having Proxy's body break down to dodge the occasional attacks while being slower than using my shroud to mask her moments will give the impression that I may often discorporate when the swarm hides me.

-/-

Nakamura ended the regular class shortly thereafter and I made a point of being seen leaving. The Wards were surrounded by the usual cluster of adoring fans so while it was a minor chance that one of them would actually notice me leaving, I felt that just going through the motions was important. I had an hour to burn with my real body while Skitter attended and Proxy was gaining some much needed muscle memory. That was the chief difference between us, when I fought there was already a great deal of muscle memory to draw upon, so I was rather fluid in my movements. Proxy other the other hand was more...blocky.

Muscle memory despite its name is actually stored in the brain, so things I learned as Proxy wouldn't magically disappear when I disassembled the form later. It also meant that I could copy my own muscle memory into her mind. The problem, as I discovered, was that the difference between Proxy and I meant that they hadn't translated over all that well. Performing the actions was comparable to fighting drunk, or at least that's how Nakamura described it. I'd have to take his word on that.

I walked into a Wendy's situated about a block away from the dojo and after placing the order for my dinner, settled in for the hour I'd be waiting for class to let out. I had chosen this restaurant because it offered free Wi-fi. Normally, I'd have used a library but given the hour all were either closed or to close soon. I wished, not for the first time, that I had internet at home or in the lair but I wasn't sure how to go about doing that without either revealing myself to Dad or revealing the location of my lair. Neither I was prepared to do.

With Sophia and my bullying problem taken care of and Proxy active to help dissuade connections between Taylor and Skitter, I could focus more on working out other problems. Like my public image. I started my research by looking at what the Wards and other heroes were doing; after all the heroes were slaves to PR in a very real sense. Most of my time with Glenn in my previous life had been about pushing a more family friendly version of Skitter and emphasizing the human behind the mask so I was something more of a sympathetic character than anything. I didn't want to tread that path here, a lot of the effort I put into Skitter made her seem inhuman and thus that much more horrifying to the villains.

On the forums I was already being touted as an example of an extreme case 53. Someone had apparently gotten the idea that I was more like Proxy, that there was no human underneath the costume, and it had taken off. The consensus was that my powers had turned me into some sort of living hive that could command and morph the biology of my swarm. I didn't really have that much of a problem with it, after all that was what proxy was to a degree and I had been portraying myself at least somewhat as. But the idea that I couldn't even assume a human form didn't mesh with what I had shown and said as Skitter. The Dallon sisters and Wards knew there was a person under the costume. Further the backstory I weaved for Skitter included the truth of hiding her abilities from her father; something that wouldn't be possible if I couldn't 'assume' a human form.

In fact, I had been sticking to certain lies about Skitter's history. She lived with her father, a military man, and they moved around a lot. Instead of dealing with constantly changing high schools, Skitter opted for home schooling. I knew bullying was a hot button with me so I'd go with the truth that she triggered because of bullying and that was just another reason for her homeschooling. She didn't trust school faculty anymore because they had failed to stop things before it escalated to that point.

As for the when, there was about two and a half years of experience under my belt from my previous life. So, extrapolating that from when I awoke and triggered in this life that would be…sometime in mid-2008. July 10, 2008, a Thursday, to be exact and considering my luck last time, I triggered around lunchtime. That… didn't work. I wanted to be more honest about why I triggered. Thanks to the extra decades of cape activity, the public was more aware of what trigger events were and the question was more likely to come up at some point. I wanted to be honest about why and how I triggered. Being bullied in a school wasn't going to work if I triggered in July. Here in Brockton Bay we start school the day after Labor Day, that would have been September 2nd, but other schools stared as early as mid-august. August 25th then.

That choice would narrow down the possible school I could have attended to what, less than half? It would seem like a lead for identity hunters to chase after and since it would be leading them away from the real me, it was all the better because of it. At the same time if my honesty about how bad I was bullied got more people taking bullying more seriously, well, that could only be a good thing.

At any rate, the way I figured it there were two things that were hurting my image. The first was that my costume was dark and edgy and I wasn't really willing to compromise on it. Skitter's regalia was dark so I could blend with the swarm and darkness in general allowing me the option of stealth where more brightly colored heroes wouldn't have it. Further the edgy look of the ensemble, as well as choice pieces of equipment, helped sell the terror of what I was going to inflict on my opponents. Put me in a different costume and I'm a lot less terrifying sure, but I'm also less terrifying to my enemies and that could be detrimental to my long term health.

The second was that my powers were creepy. I control bugs, something that tickles a primal fear in mankind. Further while under my sway, they act with an intelligence that is often described as 'wrong.' The fact that I share the senses of my bugs doesn't help matters either. No, people then start wondering if I'm watching them through the spider in the web in the corner of their room, or the cockroach that just skittered across the wall. And when I form swarms? Well, as Glenn put it, they were dark amorphous clouds of an untold number of insects ready to sting and generally terrorize my foes. Unfortunately, it was also rather frightening to the average citizen.

So yeah, my problem was simply that I was scary. The thing is I wanted criminals to fear me. How did I get the civilians feeling like they shouldn't fear me while I drove fear into the hearts of criminals? I had to show them that I was on the right side of justice, on their side. But how? In my past life I had fostered good will in my territory and the city at large by helping rebuild and providing security for my territory, by defending them from threats like the Slaughterhouse Nine. Without those circumstances to work in I wasn't really sure what I could do that wouldn't make me less frightening to the villains. No, that wasn't entirely true. I hadn't interacted with the general public at all, every time I was caught on video it was in the process of going from A to B or during one of my 'operations.' Civilian-wise I had only talked to four or so people, if that, and then only spoke when it was necessary. As one of the paparazzi had told me, no one knew anything about me beyond the fear and pain I invoked in my foes.

The Wards and other hero groups generally did things like talk show appearances, interviews, and public appearances to let the public know more about them. To inform them that, yes, they were the good guys and make them more relatable. I didn't have any sort means to set that sort of thing up and even if I did I wasn't confident in my ability to express what I wanted to tell them. I was never good at public speaking. Maybe I could take a speech class next year. It'd probably be a good thing to have under my belt. I needed to figure out a way to let the public know the creepy bug cape was a hero.

-/-

Dean pulled himself up off the mat and took a breath. Sparring with Skitter was so much more annoying than he'd have believed before experiencing it firsthand. He had gotten used to being able to follow people using his empathic sight. He was used to seeing the emotional fluctuations before they launched an attack and his sense didn't care if something like smoke was blocking his direct line of sight on an opponent.

Skitter however was hard to peg down, the cloud of swirling bugs around her actually shared her emotional state to the point that it camouflaged her. Further her emotional tells while present were so muted that he had on more than one occasion completely missed them. Still he occasionally saw some extremely powerful emotions seep past the emotionless facade the cape attempted to maintain. He suspected that she was somehow shunting her emotions into her swarm in an odd way of compartmentalizing the anger she held in check.

"Ready?" she asked, her voice that disturbing cacophony of buzzing and chittering sound. Gallant suppressed the shudder that tried to escape him when she spoke, it wouldn't look good for him to react like that every time she spoke.

"Yeah," the empath replied. The response was barely off his lips when Skitter moved. She was fast, not Velocity fast or even mover fast but she was easily approaching what had to be the upper end of human. What's more, or perhaps more accurately, her speed was in part due to the surety of her actions. Capes tended to hesitate a lot in fights and even more so when sparing with teammates. Heroes and villains alike typically held back so as not to accidentally kill and that meant a certain level of second guessing one's actions.

Skitter moved more like Armsmaster or Miss Militia did when they sparred. They had over a decade of combat experience under their belts that gave them an entirely justified confidence in their ability to fight without killing. They knew exactly how devastating every blow would be and could better measure their opponent's durability. Just another reason why he agreed that Skitter acted like someone with far more experience than her fairly new appearance would lead one to expect.

He stumbled backwards letting out a lungful of air in reaction to the kick he just took to the gut. As he pulled himself back together Skitter stated, "You're distracted."

"Yeah, Sorry."

"I know this isn't real combat, but you should push everything not related to it out your mind. Thinking about, for example, how you're going to make up with Glory Girl is a good way to end up injured."

"I wasn't thinking about her," Dean bit back quickly.

He had the distinct impression that she was smiling under her mask as she responded, "Seems I hit a touchy subject. It really doesn't matter what you were thinking about, your mind wasn't here and that's dangerous."

"It was. I was trying to figure you out. Your emotions are harder for me to read than most people and you fight like you've been at it for a long time."

She.. Did she sigh? It was hard to actually tell from the sound her swarm made but everything else suggested that she had just done so. There was a flash of annoyance and exasperation before she spoke, "I have been. More than two years, but mostly keeping my head down."

"How is it I never heard of you before? It seems like a bug controller would be hard to miss in Brockton Bay, especially for that amount of time."

"My family's moved around a lot. It's only here, after my dad decided to set down roots, that I decided to be more overt."

"Can I ask why?"

"Why I'm being overt?" She asked. In response to his nod she continued, "Brockton Bay needs the help. It's really as simple as that."

-/-

Armsmaster was reviewing the footage his helmet had recorded of his encounter with Skitter for the third time as he idly reassembled Testament's helmet. Actually, it would be more accurate to say he was assembling a new helmet since only an eighth of the original remained usable. The door to his lab opened and through the reflection in the monitor he could see Clockblocker approaching with a backpack slung over his shoulder. The Ward called out as he reached one of the work benches, "Hey boss. Uh. Is that Skitter?"

"It is. Do you see anything odd?" Armsmaster asked.

Dennis dropped his bag on an empty sector of the workbench and came up to Colin's right. After two minutes of watching the bug themed cape explode into a swarm and reform he spoke, "There's a really big bug in there."

"right."

"So?"

"I think that that bug is Skitter. Almost all the other arthropods I've seen in the video combining or forming out of her were of natural design," Armsmaster explained. He'd have to adjust his contingency plan for dealing with her. Previously he had focused on ways to deprive her of the swarm but the realization that she shared their general physiology meant he'd have to find a way to non-lethally remove them or he'd risk killing Skitter in the process.

"Just when I thought I couldn't be more freaked out by her," the teen said removing his helmet. With a sigh he changed the subject, "So what's the ratio tonight?"

"Five to one," Colin replied as he turned away from the screen and the footage minimized itself leaving a background image of the schematics of his motorcycle on screen.

Dennis was already back at his bookbag unpacking a gaming system built by Kid Win on a whim. From what little Colin had paid attention to the machine, it was designed to emulate the hardware of every game console made in the last fifty years on both Earths Bet and Aleph so that it could play any game the Wards got their hands on. While Colin had enjoyed a misspent youth playing Villains and Vigilantes before he triggered so many years before, he hadn't found himself interested in modern games.

"So what's on the menu today?" Dennis asked as he hooked the system up to one of the hanging monitors in the workshop. Normally Colin would at least make the effort to ask the teen if he had completed his school work before letting him lose himself in what ever game he'd settled on. Today he wouldn't it had been one of his conditions.

"I'll be trying to get the shielding system working. That game you showed me last time gave me an idea of how to do it efficiently enough," Armsmaster said the idea jumping to the forefront of his mind.

"And you're only trying it now boss? Shame on you."

Colin allowed the faux reprimand wash over him as he responded, "I had to wait for Mathews' 'tesseractor' to clear testing and produce a copy."

Clockblocker paused a figured hovering over the console's power button as he turned to give Armsmaster his attention, "Wait...wasn't that the thing that blew a hole in the wall?"

"It was."

"That totally fills me with confidence, you know."

The barest shadow of a smirk, ever so tiny, filtered across Colin's face as he said, "The finally version's power output was scaled back by twenty five percent."

"So we'd be a little less incinerated...nope, still not liking it," Dennis replied before turning his attention back to the game station and booted it up.

Armsmaster shook his head as he brought out the components for his shielding system. As he set all the tools he'd need in their places and generally prepared to tackle the problems with the miniaturized force field generator. This wasn't the only device he would work on in the time Clockblocker would stretch for him but it was arguably the most important. The field was based on the readings he had taken from Vigilant and would provide Colin with a not insignificant boost to his meager defenses.

Turning back to the console of monitors he connected to Protectorate Control. Unsurprisingly Hannah's face greeted him, "Colin?"

"Clockblocker and I are going dark. I'll check in every hour," Armsmaster said. He didn't need to go into details with Miss Militia as this wouldn't be the first time they'd do this, not by a long shot.

"Of course. Standard Bubble Protocols?" Hannah asked needlessly.

"Correct," He replied curtly before his second in command terminated the line.

Colin looked back to his prepared workshop. Everything was ready. Even the teen that would allow Colin to work at a much greater pace than he'd ever be capable of alone. Dennis was looking to him for the order to proceed. A single nod.

The hairs on the back of Colin's neck stood up straight as Clockblocker seemed to begin moving at an impossible clip. About the teen was a ever expanding field that looked not dissimilar to a soap bubble. Colin knew that as soon as the field stopped expanding it would be as impossible to distinguish directly as air. You knew it was there, but you could only truly tell it was present from the way other things interacted with it. Whatever thought came next was lost as the edge of the field passed over him, a oh so brief interruption as portions of his brain existed at different time differentials.

Dennis was starting a space opera that involved a heavily customizable player character saving the galaxy from giant mechanical space squids. Colin's tools were in front of him and the thoughts of a personal shielding array coming to the forefront of his mind. As he reached for a tool he made a mental note to check back in with Hannah in five hours. Now however, it was time to get to work.

-/ Author Notes:
This fic is not dead. My hard drive is. I've had a lot of trouble putting together this chapter. I had to deal with the fact that I don't, or at least didn't, have an arc planned for this section. I was well past ten days since my last chapter before my computer died on me. Most annoying was the fact that I already had more than 90% of the chapter written. After that I had to burn time before I could get out and get a replacement. I've been reading a lot more fan fiction and occupying myself on the Xbox (GT: Crashlegacy14).

So, a little bit about chapter length. I typically write until I feel like a chapter has properly ended. In ToT this is usually the end of a particular day. The only time that I think I really went against that mold was in Predatory Actions.

As I mentioned previously there's a good bit more content to cover in my backlog of hashed out ideas, sections, and the like before I'm tapped. There is however a problem, most of those ideas are 'months away' and/or require a fair amount of set up beforehand. Right now I'm kind of wandering about in an in between area I do have sections and development that need to take place to reach the stuff further down the line but I don't have any sort of overarching plot for this period I'm entering into. I definitely wouldn't mind some input on that front.

The delay for this chapter was one parts not knowing what to write, another part reading fan fiction, and a good bit more letting myself get absorbed in gamming. I just bought an Xbox One with my income tax return but until Titian fall comes out I don't see that really distracting me all that much from writing. Especially since I just went through all of the Tomb Raider reboot already-that was fun btw.

Finally, I'd greatly appreciate it if anyone who bothers to shoot off a review that includes a comment about wrong word usage, grammatical errors, or misspellings would provide an example of such error. I can't correct and learn to notice them if no one points them out. So please, help me out.

On the subject of the Wards:
I see the Wards purposely being rather spread out across the cliques of the school primarily as satellite members of multiple groups that easily connect one way or another. This way when they inevitably interact with one another it's not 'hey it's the most popular jock in school chatting with that one smelly nerd, what are they up to?' Further not every Ward interacts directly with every other one. For example, Carlos rarely talks with Chris at school; hence why the later was surprised that Carlie was in the know. Dean is the only one who frequently interacts with all of them because his popularity and approachability enables him to hang out with the jock, the class clown, and have a well-known and solid friendship with a nerd.

Further, most of the Wards are part of some extracurricular activity, again primarily as satellite members, that can be used as a smokescreen to cover some of their absences for planed events. Dean does some community outreach and visibly assists the student council in decorating the halls and so forth without actually being a member of said group. Not for lack of them trying to recruit him. Dennis is a bench warmer for the basketball team. No, really. Chris is unsurprisingly a member of the computer club. Carlos is the only one who doesn't have such a cover activity, he plays the role of a jock, but isn't in any actual sports team due to obvious ethical issues. He cites an injury to his knee he incurred playing football at his previous school as a frequent excuse. His knee was rather badly injured in the manner he tells it.

As the school itself is in on the charade, it often plans field trips and such as a means of getting the entire group out of class with minimum fuss. They aren't even particularly quite about this relation either and many students use such field trips as 'ditch days.'

I introduced too many characters this chapter and the conversation in the cafeteria was painful to read through a second time.