They were hauling out corpses when they touched down. Bodies spread out where the ground was still dry, some laid out in neat rows, some just randomly placed, covered with what could be spared. Sarah, now Lady Photon, took a weary look around. It was a scene she was sure she would find repeated on nearly every street of Brockton Bay. If she still had tears to shed, she would weep them for her city, the place where she had been born and raised, and birthed and raised her children in.

Beside her, Laserdream bit her lip, searching the covered remains with anxious eyes. "Do you think…"

Lady Photon shook her head, did her best to conceal her worry from her already distressed daughter. "Maybe. Let's hope for the best though. You know the floor?"

"Seventh. Left apartment."

They entered the building, pausing once to talk to the worn-out woman that was seemingly in charge, awkwardly comforting a crying man that was nearly twice her size. She couldn't tell them whether or not who had survived. There were a lot of bodies though, so probably not. The older hero promised to help transporting the most injured to an hospital after they were done. They flew up the stairs instead of disturbing the few pairs carrying down limp bodies. The seventh floor was a mess. Besides the ubiquitous glass, the door of the apartment on the left was utterly destroyed. A mess of wood chips and splinters was what remained from half the door, the other half still hanging by the hinges. Laserdream spotted the doorknob laying discarded on a corner.

The lady lethargically sweeping the mess into a corner stopped and stared at them. Her entire arms were bandaged or covered in recent scabs. When the two parahumans didn't continue ascending the stairs, stopping on her floor, she spoke. "They're dead." She stated as a matter of fact, using her head to nod at the broken door. "All of them."

Lady Photon hung her head, closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath to center herself. Another loss. Perhaps a greater loss than she would have ever expected. Behind her Laserdream turned her back and whimpered. "Oh, Dani…" Her mother composed herself quickly, but she hadn't been holding onto much hope in the first time. Such thing was rare nowadays.

"I see. The bodies…?" She had to check whether or not there was an extra corpse. It made her gut clench.

"Still there." The woman resumed her sweeping. "They'll take them away too, I think."

Before she could continue, a voice interrupted them. "What is going on… Oh." A young man, maybe her son, came from within the apartment and startled when he realized just who his mother was talking to. "Wow. Hm. How can we help?"

Lady Photon allowed herself a brief smile. "We just came to check on some friends. If there's anything we can do to help ourselves though, we'll be glad to assist. Stay here, Laserdream?" She let her daughter to talk with the neighbours and moved into the apartment, dreading what she might find.

Blood and glass, of course. And seven corpses, covered by sheets, spread throughout the living space. She checked them all. She knew some faces, but none of them belonged to her niece. A palpable relief filled her chest along with accompanying guilt. She closed Laura's eyes, remembering how not twenty four hours before they had talked to each other, and covered her head again. She lingered for a few more moments, unsure of what to do, yet again, and then left.

"She's not here." She whispered to Laserdream's ear outside. "But your friend…"

"It's okay." The blonde shook her head, eyes dark. "I knew it was a possibility."

"You know." The young man from before started, eyeing their exchange curiously. "You're not the first capes coming to that particular apartment."

"The girl last night?" The woman asked him even as both superheroines turned to him.

"Had to be." Seeing the looks pointed towards him, he knocked on the intact door behind him. "She tore through one of these with her bare fists. Kept on hitting it until it broke. If I tried a stunt like that, I'd break my hands. If she wasn't a cape, I don't know what kind of freak she was."

Lady Photon furrowed her brow. "What did she look like?"

"Hm, hard to say… Average? Brown hair, freckles? I didn't get a good look." He shrugged, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

Now frowning, she reached into a hidden pocket in her bodysuit and took out a folded photograph. She presented it to him. "Like this?"

He squinted. "Yeah, they do look alike. Except last night, well… She didn't look that good. Blood and water and stuff…"

"Right. Thank you for your assistance. Laserdream, let's go." She said curtly and turned on her heel.

"Mom?" Laserdream looked at her eyes wide and confused, struggling to catch up to her as she descended the stairs. "What's going on here? Was he talking about Amy?"

"I don't know." There was something she was missing here, intuition from over a decade of investigation and fights niggling in the back of her mind. "There's something wrong with this whole picture. Let's help these people and then we'll check the other places."

It had started raining. Skitter contemplated the weather with concealed irritation. The rain, light as it was, would hinder rebuilding efforts. At the very least, slow them down a little. But it wouldn't slow down the Nine. Had it been stronger, it might at least have been an advantage against Burnscar. As it was, the drizzle was just plain inconvenient. It made it just slightly harder to move the bigger insects around and sent false alarms through her trip wires. Not damaging or encumbering, merely annoying.

Usually it wouldn't have bothered her so, but Skitter's nerves were already frayed. To her greater dismay, even her body seemed to be rebeling. She clenched her teeth to avoid yawning. The early warning system she'd devised was nearly done and she just needed one last pass through the streets with her flying bugs before they could move out to patrol the other's territories.

No signs of Mannequin yet. She hoped it was not the worst case. That he had found a way around the silk lines. It should be impossible but, well… Tinker. Never-

A line was broken at the edge of her range. Then another. Something was moving towards them. Not somebody she had tagged. Skitter was already rising from her seat at the table, drawing looks from her teammates and subordinates. Flies on the disruption told her it was not him. Two individuals. Her insects relayed to her the texture of fabric, skin, hair. The Chosen? Another faction? Sending two individuals was hardly a declaration of war, but she did not relax.

Whoever they were, they were still running towards the center of her territory. Were they looking for her? Delivering a message, a threat, looking for a fight? Wanting help, a job? Either way, she had to deal with them.

"There are two men heading towards here. I'll go check what they want." She announced out loud.

Grue too rose and inquired. "After that, will we be done here?" She nodded. "Then I'll get Bitch. We leave in fifteen, if that's enough?"

She mentally calculated the time. "Should be." With that they parted, Grue heading back to rouse their other teammate. She was just a little bit glad she didn't have to deal with her, the air still tense between them. Skitter motioned to a girl in dreadlocks to follow her and strode out of the repurposed building. As she moved, more insects converged on her, crawling over her form, retreating to the compartments in her armour specific for them. They covered the brief shiver that raked her as the rain first hit her. She spoke calmly to the girl. "Genesis will stay here while we patrol. Contact me immediately if there's any sign of the Nine while we're gone. I'm leaving you and Charlotte in charge." She continued with her instructions as she walked, outlining the measures and signals to be adopted.

As it turned out, they did not have to intercept the new arrivals themselves. Two members of the O'Daly family, cousins if she remembered it correctly, were stalling them, arguing loudly in the middle of the road. Now able to see them with her own eyes, she examined the 'intruders'. They were garbed in working clothes and, as everybody in the city, exhibited some injuries. More importantly, one of them carried a specialized tool-belt, the kind used by the relief efforts contracted by the city. Skitter could guess who they were and where they had come from, but not why they were here.

All four of them stopped in their tracks when she came into view. "They want to speak with you." One of hers told her after a brief pause, his eyes .

However, before he could step aside, one of the workers very nearly lunged forwards, a hopeful look in his eyes. "They say you fought Mannequin! Is it true?"

A cold pit started forming in her stomach. "I did." But she had not won. Not really.

"You've got to help us!" He cried, gesturing wildly with thin arms. "He's-"

Skitter had her swarm buzz loudly. This was going nowhere. She raised a hand and spoke calmly and evenly, not raising her voice. "Calm down. Explain from the beginning, quickly."

The previously eager man took a step back in alarm and almost tripped over his own feet, but fortunately his companion came to the rescue. He was taller and broader across the shoulders, sporting an untidy stubble and sunken eyes. His voice was rough when he spoke, his breath short. "We're from the relief efforts associated with the Docks, north of here. We got stationed near the old Market..."

"I know where." She interrupted him, pressing him to get to the heart of the matter. Were the Nine baiting her? She resisted the urge to ask about the dock workers. Her father was part of those rebuilding efforts. She couldn't afford to start worrying. Couldn't afford to compromise herself. Dan Hebert should be home resting anyway.

"Right." He licked his lips. "Bastard had us cornered like rats. Killed the cops and anybody who tried to run. Made Madi read some fucked-up rules. Then…" The man paused and shook his head. "He pointed at… a girl, some volunteer, I don't know her name."

Skitter was starting to get an idea of the situation. "The candidate?"

"Fuck if I know. Maybe? But she had to be a cape. Next thing I know the chief's hurt and the girl's charging at him. Charging!" He waved his hand around in disbelief. "Started fighting with him. Mannequin was trashing her but she just kept going at him. Over and over again. She bought us time to run. We came straight here. For all I know she's still fighting him." He stared at Skitter, pointedly keeping his eyes locked with the lenses of her mask. "Please."

Away from her physical location, her swarms were spelling words for Grue and Genesis, informing them of the situation. Mannequin had attacked north of their location. Testing, from the looks of it, the unknown sixth candidate. They needed to check it out before they were too late, and she needed the member of the Travelers ready with a form fit to fight off Mannequin.

They also needed more information. "What did she look like?"

"Short, brown-haired. Curly hair too. Just another girl, I don't know." He shook his head.

"She had freckles." His previously hysterical partner interrupted him. All five present turned towards him. "What? She wasn't hurt this morning. It was weird."

Skitter nodded and started issuing orders. "Alright. Sierra. Get everybody out of the rain and hide. Spread people out through the buildings. Four or five spotters on the rooftops. If he appears, do not engage him. You'll be killed." She addressed the dockworkers. "If you want to stay, Sierra here will find a place for you. We'll talk more later."

Two four-legged creatures of bone and muscle skidded to a stop near her, startling those around her. Skitter had been tracking them through her insects, and accepted Lucy's reins from Grue without breaking stride, mounting the monstrous dog in one step and jump. The entire movement made her joints and bruises scream in protest. And to think they could be facing the source of those pains in a few more minutes.

Grue spoke up, voice distorted behind his darkness. "Are you sure about this?"

She skirted around his worries. "Finding the sixth candidate is the priority. We need to gather as many as we can if we're going to win Jack's game." She spurred the dog under her. "If we manage to beat Mannequin, that would give us some time too." She had little hopes on that front though, even with the dogs. "Where's Bitch?"

Grue hesitated and Skitter felt the oncoming headache. They did not have time for this. "Waiting ahead. Any idea of who it is?"

There weren't many options. The sixth was a hero but for the life of her, Skitter couldn't pin down which. From the physical description she would have guessed Panacea, but the powers pointed to a brute, maybe striker. Not to mention the location. Maybe a new player? "No, and we don't have time to call Tattletale either."

Any complaints Grue had he kept them in for the sake of expediency, but she could guess what he was thinking. They were going in as good as blind, walking right into a trap for all they knew, and she hated it as much as he did. The rain fell as a light drizzle now, cold, making her suit itch were the tiniest amounts of sand had gotten in but keeping her awake and alert. Their mounts ran and leaped as fast as cars, whipping her hair in the wind born of movement, but far faster than a car would be able to in the ruined streets of the Docks. They cleared debris and fences in one bound, running unhindered by shattered pavement, knee-deep water and sewage. The glass everywhere was a new feature though.

As they moved further and further away from the center of her territory, the streets degraded visibly. She felt an inkling of pride that her efforts were managing to better her people's lives, draining the streets and cleaning out the buildings. Bugs swarmed over cement and asphalt, giving her an idea of the layout ahead of them. At the speed they were going though, she couldn't order them to lay as many tripwires as she would have wished. Mannequin could probably slip by them easily.

And so he did, because as her senses extended to their destination, marked by recent destruction and still warm bodies, he was nowhere to be found. Flies and ants swarmed the zone in tidy lines, enough for Skitter to be aware of everything but hopefully not enough to scare away the candidate. Just a few moments before their group came into actual view of the place, she had a mental map constructed. There was evidence of a scuffle in the form of broken utilities and bodies, and the senseless destruction made Skitter's blood boil. The Nine would not stop until they had their fill of fun and she would be damned if she let that happen.

Their target was kneeling roughly on the center of the mostly empty field, slumping, a corpse in front of her, blood and mud around and on her. She held a knife loosely in her hands, her head down to look at it, noted Skitter, but the most attention grabbing feature was the raw flesh visible through the tatters of her shirt, spanning a good portion of her chest. They stopped their mounts just before the bent chain link fence isolating the area from the street and Grue traded a look with her, a tilt of his head towards the candidate telling her to take the lead. Skitter supposed he would be unduly intimidating indeed.

She had barely nudged Lucy forwards when the girl finally noticed them and snapped her head up. Skitter nearly recoiled, from the sudden motion as well as recognition. She had dismissed Panacea as an option because neither powers nor personality fit the image the runners had painted in her mind. And yet, the features were hers, down to the tired eyes. Not quite the same as she last remembered her, sure. She looked more than haggard. Thinner, ruined clothes hanging from her figure. Her hair was mostly undone from its ponytail, clinging to her face and neck along with blood and mud. But it was Amy Dallon.

Her expression shifted as she took them in. Brighter, but no less lost. The kind of look somebody about to throw themselves off a bridge would have.

"You're missing Conquest. Where is the fourth?" Panacea shook her head and got up in a fluid movement that contrasted with the missing parts of her torso, muscle fascicles contracting and relaxing visibly. She reversed her grip on the blade and brought her fists up in a loose guard position. "Nevermind."