Interlude 3

They came, pressing forward at a relaxed pace. They came, the same face shared by numerous bodies as they leered at their targets. They came, marching relentlessly towards the two individuals at the centre of the area defined by their bodies.

The two capes—one male and one female—stood back to back against each other. Normally fighting in that manner would not help them in this sort of situation. Freedom of movement—more than any static defensive posture—was what was required against such numbers. However, only one of the two was capable of attacking from range whilst the other was... marginally proficient at hand-to-hand combat at best. Had the ranged attacker's usual partner been present they could have stalled the encroaching enemies long enough for her to deploy her most efficient abilities for crowd control. Had the melee fighter's own powers not been turned against him—literally—then they might not have been in this situation to begin with.

The woman closed her eyes and stretched out with her powers. As she did so, she selected an even distribution in her mind and felt the minute difference in pressure in the air as her territory formed around her. The boundary of the zone did nothing to inhibit those outside from entering, nor did it prevent anyone inside from retreating. Yet for all intents and purposes, this area was under her command—even if there was not much she could actually order around within it.

In a broad circle roughly fifty metres across, the air chilled and snowflakes began to form. Their numbers were small at first—a handful of tiny particles each as unique and individual in ways their opposition was not. In the area immediately around her the numbers swelled until they surrounded her body with the lightweight, fast-moving flurries that were her namesake. Further out, the volume of snow along the outer edges of the circle remained constant, doing nothing more than interfere with the vision of those closing in as well as those behind them. The clones' visibility would have been reduced to bare metres in front of them and even then all that they could make out within that range were the featureless silhouettes of their surroundings.

The localised snow storm inhibited the defenders' vision just as badly, but Flurry had other ways to navigate her territory—even if Looking Glass was not so fortunate. The snow did more than reduce visibility for every living thing inside—so long as they remained within her territory she was able to feel the slight feedback that resulted from them coming into contact with those individuals that had wandered inside.

She frowned as she used the information that came from that ability to gain a general impression of her surroundings. She and Looking Glass faced twenty individuals just within the range of her territory, with more entering behind them. The clones that Poltergeist had hijacked did not seem to be worried about the poor visibility conditions, if the steady pace they maintained was any indication. Perhaps she felt, as their original master did, that quantity would be enough to trump any hastily set up defenses. More importantly, Flurry could also determine that the majority of them were approaching from a single vector. From every other direction the rate of intrusion was much lower than that one point—the leftover clones having apparently taken the time to circle around first before moving in.

The thicker portions were a likely indicator as to the direction of the clones' progenitor. The female cape sifted through her memories, recalling the abilities she knew about this particular opponent—directly or through hearsay. She made a few educated guesses based on a few other factors such as the terrain, the status and capabilities of her active allies, and finally her own physical condition. She pressed a hand against her chest gingerly. There was no pain that she could feel at this time, but when Poltereist had attempted to possess her, the spectre's ethereal invasion had felt like a cross between a vicious hammer blow and a piercing stab.

An idea clicked into place within her mind. She analysed it, tested it for any major flaws, and balanced that against the clones' current ability to anticipate her actions. She determined that it was a workable tactic for at least the next few seconds judging by their current inattention. Swiftly, she reshaped her boundary field into a relatively narrow cone—reducing the area it covered along her sides and behind her, but greatly extending its range and spread before her.

Several kilograms of snow was generated in an instant, moving at a fast clip even as they formed. In the blink of an eye, a shotgun spread of small but dense particles plowed through a formation of clones just to the left of the main cluster. The snowballs fragmented on impact, reducing the damage being inflicted, but it was enough to send half a dozen duplicates flying backwards and clearing a path through their cordon.

As the previously blinding snowstorm dissipated without her territory to support it—before the first body had even hit the ground—Flurry had Looking Glass' wrist locked in her hand as she hauled him past the attackers' skirmish line at a dead run.

...

Snow means sickness.

Elaine first learned this lesson as child when the Thompson family lost their mother to an acute case of pneumonia. Unfortunately the snowstorm she'd been caught out in had been particularly severe, leaving power lines dead for their entire town—including the local hospital. Ellen Thompson fought tooth and nail for her life, but in the end her body failed her and she was buried that same winter. It was a a beautiful service, if one ignored the delays that resulted from the metre-thick layers of ice and snow the groundskeepers were forced to dig through in order to reach the soil.

Marc Thompson tried his best to be a caring father, but he had no clue how to raise two daughters on his own—and to be completely honest, he missed his wife far more than he loved his daughters. Elaine ended up raising her younger sister on her own, with financial support provided by her father even as he drowned his grief at the local pub.

Snow means tragedy.

The winter of Elaine's fifteenth year, her father was lost to her in a car accident. After much pressure from his eldest daughter he had been clean and sober for nearly a half a year—ironically it was the other driver's fault for indulging himself and not properly respecting the icy conditions of the roadways. The Thompson sisters were forced to enjoy another beautiful service— pristine and white—as they laid their father to rest beside his beloved wife.

Since Elaine had not yet reached the age of majority, the sisters' maternal aunt had stepped in to take over the their care. Aunt Margaret was a strict disciplinarian—not really a problem for the eldest sister since was rather mature for her age. Karen, on the other hand, was strong-willed and had grown up with only an absentee father and an older sister for role models. As a result she had grown up to be rather free-spirited and tomboyish—a development their aunt simply could not abide.

Karen had resented the sudden enforcement of femininity in her life, whilst Elaine resented her aunt's harsh treatment of her younger sister. She was fiercely protective of what she considered to be the last remnants of her family and dismissed her relative as an outsider, someone who had no right to interfere with her family's affairs. The two older women butted heads at nearly every opportunity and the atmosphere within the household grew more and more strained with each passing month.

...

Flurry released Glass' hand as the two broke through Poltergeist's battle lines. Trusting him to be able to hold his own for a few moments now that they were in the open air, she reestablished her boundary in a roughly semi-circular shape. Once again she sacrificed coverage to her rear in favor of increased range, once again setting up her detection grid, though not as blinding as before. Instead, she scattered her element across the field between herself and the clones as they turned as one to reengage her. The snow was thick enough to slow down their charge slightly and she took the opportunity to launch her attacks, aiming for their arms and legs in an attempt to press them down and restrain them against the ground.

It should be obvious at this point, but it bears mentioning that the previously knocked down assailants had already been disposed of in a similar manner.

"Jamie!" she heard Looking Glass call out as a trio of duplicates closed in on him. He charged forward and stepped back just as quickly, drawing an ineffectual lunge from the clone directly in front of him. As it overextended itself, Glass lashed out with his baton to club it across the back of its head, dropping it to the ground. "Why are you doing this?!"

Communications protocols... Flurry sighed in annoyance. She'd have to remind him—again—at some point in the near future... hopefully after this situation had been successfully resolved. She paused for a moment, missing the Poltergeist's reply through the clones as she turned the thought on its head. Trusting her senses to help keep track of her opponents, she turned her attention to reconnecting her communicator to the microphone embedded within her mask. "Flurry to Ajax," she stated once she was sure she had an open channel.

Static hissed in her earbuds.

She clicked her way through several other frequencies, repeating herself with each successive channels and being answered with the same crackling noise. Finally she switched over to an older preset and was rewarded with simple dead air.

Flurry glanced around to do one last visual sweep for anything in her immediate vicinity, then pursed her lips and whistled out a short tune—six brief notes immediately recogniseable as a popular children's nursery rhyme.

The line crackled to life. "Volley here. Do I get a cookie for waiting until I got verification?"

"Perhaps a biscuit," Flurry replied. "What is your status?"

"I still need to do a few more calculations—the wind shear over the Severn is something fierce. But if you need something urgently, I can manage that... though you might not like the results."

Flurry threw herself to the side and tucked into a roll, narrowly avoiding a sudden charge from behind her. She redefined the boundaries of her territory, expanding the coverage behind her whilst reducing her range. "We will manage for now," she said as she buried the offending clone. "But notify me the instant you are ready."

"Gotcha. Hey, is this sort of thing going to become more commonplace again? I'm sort of balancing job offers and—"

Flurry cut the transmission and tracked a pair of duplicates rushing her in tandem. She eyeballed their current pace, then took the time to create a formation of snow a metre from their path. As it grew to the desired size, she hurled it crosswise, striking one of the clones and knocking it into the second one, tripping them both up. She scattered the projectile on impact and flattened them both to the ground.

Beneath her mask, her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line.

She heard a muffled curse as Looking Glass was caught off guard and tripped up by a clone that had suddenly dived for his legs. Having been guarding his upper body up until this point, the manoeuvre had caught him flat-footed and he was shortly dog-piled by his remaining attackers. It was quickly becoming apparent that although Duplex's clones were not exactly brawlers, neither were they the simple pushovers he—or Flurry, for that matter—had been expecting.

Although they still maintained their single-minded drive to complete whatever orders they had been tasked with as they were spawned, the clones under Poltergeist's influence were also reprioritising on the fly. Here and there, Flurry found clones that had previously been rushing the two of them suddenly veer away to help dig out one that she had previously trapped. As Glass had just discovered, they would abruptly change targets to get around whatever blocks or defenses had been set up to counter their basic offenses. Whilst their numbers were not any larger than they had been, the fact that previously incapacitated duplicates were rejoining the fight did not bode well for her current strategy.

Even as the thought occurred to her, she felt the heavy tread as a clone stepped up beside her and attempted to bury its fist into her side. She nimbly avoided the attack, but discovered too late that the heavier tread had been a second clone matching the first's footsteps. She caught the barest glimpse of an armoured boot just before it clipped her across the head and everything went dark.

...

Snow means death.

Elaine pressed her hands against the wall separating her from her sister and tried not to let her emotions overcome her. Aunt Margaret was pacing the floor behind her, babbling to some friend or otherwise engaged in some other meaningless drivel on her cell phone. She paid her no mind, instead carefully watching the light over the door even as she tried her best to put her own mind at ease.

Karen is alive. I managed to dig her free in time. I wasn't too late. She's just resting. My little sister is alive...

A stay at the hospital was routine for anyone who had been buried under snow for as long as she had been. She'd rest here for a while—perhaps stay for a few days of observations if the physicians were being absurdly caution—then they would all return home. The two of them would look back on this time at a later point in their life to joke about it.

Karen is alive... She's stronger than Mummy—she's had me looking out for her unlike Daddy who was all alone... She is alive she's alive she's alive...

The light above the door went out but she continued to face the wall even as the head physician exited the room with a professionally neutral expression. She heard him speaking with her aunt, but she tried her best to put the noises out of her mind.

She's alive... she's fine... she's...

"...asphixiated, her brain wasn't receiving enough oxygen and there were complica—"

"Don't give me any of that medical mumbo-jumbo, young man. I'm a simple woman and I'd prefer to hear plain talk when spoken to."

The doctor lowered his voice slightly. The wall was polished smooth, almost reflective. She couldn't make out the details of her own face, but she could see his reflection as he glanced her way briefly, then said something too quietly for her to hear.

She's fine, she's just resting. Karen is just resting... they just need us to leave now so she can get back to sleep and rest...

Elaine pressed her forehead against the wall, as if those extra few centimetres would be enough to send her warmth and pleas through to her sister. She'd wake up and see Elaine, laughing at the face she was probably making with her skin flattened around her forehead and nose and her eyes scrunched up, all red and tearing up something awful. She'd turn a smart-alecky grin on her and ask her in that teasing voice of hers, 'Aww, did you miss me?'

"Elaine's a strong girl, you don't have to worry about her. When my sister passed on she took it like a proper woman. She faced it with dignity. She can hear anything you'd have to tell me."

A soft murmur. She heard the words but they didn't parse in her mind. They weren't true. They were lies. They weren't worth hearing. Elaine felt her throat thickening, holding back the scream she so desperately needed to let loose. But she couldn't. She had to be strong for her sister. If she let herself give in then Karen would really be... but she wasn't...

She felt stars exploding behind her eyes as she squeezed them shut as tightly as she could. It was too much, too much. Her mum, her dad, her sister. She tried to internalise her pain but her efforts weren't enough. It refused to be held in without a fight. It tore at her insides—she felt as if she were exploding, flying, falling, everything all at once. She—

—was looking down at the world and it was so small, so insignificant in the face of her loss. She was missing a crucial portion of herself—an irreplaceable companion—and she was so confused and adrift and... What had it all been for? How could she move forward if she didn't know what to do and—

She felt herself sliding to the floor, keening piteously as the doctor and her auntie rushed towards her—shouting at her, asking if she was okay. As if she should have been okay with both parents already... and Karen—her sister...

"...and will someone explain to me why it is so cold in here all of a sudden?"

...

Winter is the end of a cycle—the period of time where living things wipe the slate clean in preparation for beginning anew.

"You have the look of someone who's not sure about what they want to do or where they want to go in life."

She stared at the man before her, dressed in a brilliant white costume with red highlights and a diamond motif in various patterns across his chest, sleeves, and mask. He stood with a graceful poise, a posture that screamed confidence and authority.

She, in contrast, had worn an off-white parka over normal street clothes. The parka was zipped all the way to the hood, leaving a tiny opening just large enough for her face to peer out. Overheating was not an issue; she simply generated enough of a chill around herself to keep her body at a comfortable temperature. She stood at rigid attention before him, not hiding anything, but not giving anything away either.

There was nothing to lose by answering him, but at the same time he hadn't exactly offered a question. She settled for simply saying nothing.

He shifted slightly, as if uncertain about her complete lack of response. "What's your name, kid?" he tried.

"Flurry." She'd taken quite some time to decide upon this name. Something that would be immediately clear, but not overused. She'd even thought of a way to adjust her powers so that they reflected aspects of her moniker, sort of like a calling card. She hoped she would have approved.

"Flurry," the cape repeated, raising one hand and tipping a non-existent hat towards her. "You must be wondering who I am."

It was becoming rather annoying how he phrased his queries in a non-questioning format. Flurry decided to indulge him for once. "You are a member of the Suits," she stated flatly. "Diamond division from your accessories; most likely a member of the Response Team judging by how quickly you arrived upon the scene. A Mover-class parahuman."

She had left her aunt as soon as she had reached adulthood, returning to her childhood home. The property had been hers since her parents had died and she had used her minor influence to ensure that nothing had been removed. It was a reminder of simpler times, happier times. She had clung to those memories as if they were a life preserver, keeping her from sinking into depression.

It also helped that Ka—that her sister had been collecting a ridiculous amount of information on capes. Knowledge that proved to be useful given the more radical change in her life.

The Suit seemed taken aback by her sudden outburst. "Er, yes... well..."

"Would you like to take this individual into custody?" Flurry interrupted him, motioning towards the snow-covered man on the ground. "I witnessed him attempting to rob a pedestrian along the roadway several blocks from here." She pulled a small notebook out of her pocket. "The victim has since returned to her shopping but I have her contact information and description if you would like verification, as well as several eyewitness statements from those nearby—"

"Hold on, hold on!" the Suit raised his hands as she offered him the pad filled with neat scribings. "That's more of a matter for the local constabulary. I'm here to offer you a position. You did some good work here, but we can help you make more of a difference."

The parka hood shifted slightly. "If I am not mistaken, the Suits are based fairly close to London."

The Suit nodded, "We hold the South, whilst the King's Men take up residence more in the North. There's still some overlap, however. But you need not worry about any conflict on that front. We're all on the same side, after all."

London was over one-hundred kilometres away. Far too great a distance for her tastes. "I am afraid I must decline," she said. "I do not wish to relocate."

He paused in the middle of an elaborate gesticulation, then lowered his hands and adopted a somewhat disappointed stance. "Are you certain? It wouldn't be for long. Once we get you established there's no problem with having you assigned to this area."

Flurry shrugged. "This is my home," she simply said. "I do not wish to leave it for any significant period of time.

He stared at her for several moments, peering into her unflinching eyes before sighing and dipping a hand into a chest pocket. "Well, I suppose there's nothing for it. We're always open to new members," he said as he flicked a slim card in her direction.

She let it bounce off of a white barrier in front of her face before letting it flutter onto her upraised palm. She arched an eyebrow as she flipped the playing card around in her hand. "Subtle," she commented.

He grinned. "In case you change your mind. I'm sure a smart girl like you can figure out how to reach us with just that." He sketched out a brief bow, keeping his eyes on her. "If I may make a suggestion?"

Flurry pocketed the card and returned to her initial standing position.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're fairly new to this way of life." He paused, but pressed on when no such corrections were forthcoming. "My old mentor is a cape local to this area, he prides himself on getting rookies through their first few months... "

...

"A team," she said flatly.

"Yeah!" Wu Lung replied excitedly. "With your brains and my brawns, we'd be unstoppable."

"That phrase assumes there is a significant disparity between our skills in such a way that a collaboration will not only cover our relative weaknesses, but synergise with each other. To borrow a phrase of yours, I believe I have 'handed your ass to you on a platter,' in our previous engagements."

"Have you ever heard of rock-paper-scissors?"

"It has no bearing on this situation. I am your parole officer, not your ally."

"Okay, look," Wu ran a hand across the back of his brand-new helmet. "Let's say you're right. I play nice for a year or two, I get off the hook and we go our separate ways. What then?"

"I would resume my duties on my own or with Ajax—assuming he will still have me," Flurry replied.

"Yeah, about that... I'm pretty sure he's moved on. Did you hear about that new kid that popped up last week? The Brute-class?"

"...ah..."

"Exactly. Think of it this way, he feels confident in your future. He's done all he can to get you ready for the bigger world! How, you ask? Well is it any coincidence that he moved on after the last few jobs we've pulled?" Wu elbowed her good-naturedly—or he would have, except she had placed a barrier between his elbow and her side. He absent-mindedly brushed the snow off of his sleeve. "Admit it, we work well together."

Flurry thought about it. Her life as Elaine was admittedly stale. She stayed at home, using her earnings as a cape to cover her living expenses, but more and more often she was finding herself looking forward to the times she and Wu went out on patrol. It almost made her forget the mausoleum she had turned her house into. Perhaps a change of pace would be for the better... at least for the short-term.

Still... "There is hardly enough work here to support a permanent group," she pointed out. "Although there is a significant amount of work to be done here, it is not anything the local heroes cannot already handle."

"So we move," Wu said. "That's generally what the rookies do after they're done here, isn't it? Why not Wales? Not too far and I already know you've been commuting to work, as it were."

Flurry glared at him. "You know where I live?"

"I've—er—been sort of watching you, but purely out of teamly concern for my fellow... teamster."

"I see... " Flurry sighed, giving up the fight. "I'm not ready for this," she tried one last time.

"Not with that attitude, you aren't."

"I cannot take charge. I'm not experienced enough."

"Fine, you aren't in charge, but you're still making the decisions," Wu crossed his arms across his chest. "You're smarter than I am."

...

Flurry groaned underneath her breath as her vision swam back into focus. She was lying face down in the grass—her mask had kept her from suffocating on the soil, but she could see where her hood had dug into the ground slightly and knew dirt would be falling along the inner-lining of her suit it was most likely in her hair.

She allowed herself a brief moment to wish she had suffocated instead, then resumed scanning her surroundings as best as she could without giving away her return to consciousness.

Looking Glass was within her field of vision, surrounded by Duplex's clones. Most of them were simply keeping watch in all directions, but there was one that had dropped into a crouch before him. From the clone's body language and the fact that it appeared to be holding a conversation with the other cape, she assumed it to be Poltergeist's current avatar.

She closed her eyes and did her best to pick up what they might be saying. The distance and light winds made it somewhat difficult, but Poltergeist was being rather loud herself so she could make out portions of it.

"... needed a physical body, why not?"

She couldn't hear Glass' side of the conversation. Nothing she could do about it, she put it out of mind and moved on.

"Yeah... ...anted... be... hero. But y... were so boring!"

Again she couldn't make out the reply, but Glass had never bothered with a mask so it wasn't too difficult to read his expressions. He was shocked, dismayed by whatever Poltergeist was telling him. His stricken expression sent pangs of sympathetic pain through Flurry and it took her several moments to realise why.

Looking Glass was afraid. That much was obvious to see. However, he appeared to be less afraid of the state he found himself in and more so about the reality being displayed in front of him. Poltergeist was almost as lost to him as Karen was to her. The thought brought a brief twinge of pain in Flurry's chest.

No, it was more than that. She was dismayed and saddened to find Jamie having fallen to such depths. Having gone from the cheerful, bright girl she had been when they'd first met...

...

"Hey there!"

Flurry jerked as a face suddenly filled her vision, nearly dislodging her from the rooftop perch she had settled on to as she recoiled in surprise. "What in the—"

"Ne, you're a cape, right?" the newcomer interrupted. She appeared to be a young girl, although her size was unusually small, with her head appearing grossly out of proportion from the rest of her... body?

Flurry blinked. The girl was floating. More than that, she was very nearly transparent. She tilted her head as she gave a closer inspection on the girl before her. "I am," she belatedly answered her question. "As are you, I would assume?"

"Me? Naww, that'd be more of my brother's schtick. We were looking for a superhero to team up with—er, you are a superhero, right? It'd be really embarrassing if I tracked you down all this way and it turned out you were a villain..."

"No, you were correct," Flurry assured her, still slightly off-balance. She caught a flash of light out of the corner of her eye. A series of blinking lights from a rooftop several hundred metres away. Volley, most likely. It was probable that he'd seen the pair's interaction and wanted to make sure she was alright. "Excuse me for just a moment."

She fished out a small hand-held beacon from a pouch pocket and aimed it towards the faraway building, flashing out an 'all-clear' pattern. She thought for a moment, then followed up with a 'regroup' command. She shook her head slightly as she stowed the beacon, what she wouldn't give for something more reliable to use. She was startled out of her musings by high-pitched noise and snapped her head around.

The girl had clasped her hands together and was making an excited squeal. "You're in a team!" she cried. "That was like, secret codes and everything! Oh this is gonna be wicked cool!" She did a flip in midair then beckoned Flurry towards her. "C'mon, meet me down on the street behind this building. There's someone I want you to meet!" She backflipped in the air again and dove out of sight.

Flurry felt the corner of her mouth twitching slightly as she made her way over to the fire escape to meet this mysterious parahuman. That was a rather interesting girl, she mused. And a cape as well—or at least parahuman-related.

Karen would have liked meeting her.

...

... to this deranged, disturbed individual.

Flurry wondered for a few moments why the change had bothered her so much, but the answer was not long in coming to her.

"You want him for his ghost-thingy, don't you?" The voice echoed from her memories and she tried in vain to block them out, unwilling to indulge in the thoughts and feelings they brought up with them. "She reminds you of—"

—Karen.

Flurry didn't know why she had linked the two so closely together in her mind, but she could not deny the fact that she had done so. Most of the resemblance was superficial at best—Looking Glass was roughly the age her sister would have been which meant Jamie was as well; both were rather outspoken when they wished to be; both of them were intrinsically linked to capes.

There were differences, of course. Whilst her sister was outspoken as a matter of defiance towards her peers, Jamie seemed to have no boundaries at all. She got away with the most outrageous behaviours imaginable, with no sense of tact or propriety. With the luxury of hindsight, Flurry knew much of it had to do with the fact that they had all classified her in their minds as 'not human', and so they had not held her to the same standards they would other people. Karen was merely an avid fan of parahumans whereas Jamie was the byproduct of an ability user—although from what Glass had been saying and her recent actions, Jamie was a particularly capable parahuman herself.

She wished Evan were still around. Despite his brash personality, he'd always struck Flurry as being particularly aware of what other people were thinking or feeling. He was generally rather harsh and free with his criticisms, but he'd always made her rethink her values and snap judgements.

He'd never really liked Glass or Jamie. He already knew that she tended to focus on the two of them far more than an impartial team leader should have—and he also knew the underlying reasoning behind it. Yet at the same time, Flurry had sometimes wondered there wasn't something more to it. His own... infatuation with her had been rather transparent and she had thought it was almost charming the way he continuously sought to put the younger capes in their place.

Looking back, however, she wondered if he had seen what everyone else had missed about Jamie. If not necessarily this exact situation, he may have picked up on her lack of restraint and Glass' unwillingness to call her to task. Perhaps he'd been trying to be the bad cop intentionally—to be the person to rein her in, or at least get Looking Glass into a position where he would have been forced to do it.

Perhaps. Maybe. That possible future was closed off forever. She'd never know his reasons for acting the way he did. She'd never know what might have been had she decided to accept his advances. She'd never know, because...

...

He's dead. And it's all my fault.

Flurry stared unblinkingly towards the ceiling. She was not alone in the room—there had been far too many casualties, every scrap of floor space had been required. Pained cries from the various capes, as well as the shouts and commands of the staff, filled the air in a cacophony of sound. A privacy curtain hung from a hastily set up frame, though it had been pulled aside temporarily to allow her visitor.

"I didn't see it for myself, and J—she won't tell me the details," Looking Glass said. He was currently wheelchair-bound, although his injuries mostly consisted of several bruised ribs and a hairline fracture in one arm. He would recover with few side-effects.

Flurry's body was blissfully numb, but no amount of painkillers could remove the twinges that ran up her shoulder from the remains of her left arm. Capes that could impart low-level regeneration were said to have been running around the hospital, but triage protocols meant survivable injuries like her own were close to the bottom of the priority list. She wasn't dying, she was merely severely uncomfortable.

No amount of painkillers could remove the crushing feeling within her chest at the news Glass had brought. Volley's and Glass' injuries were her responsibility. Wu's death was her own fault.

Snow means death.

She had been the one to lead them to that forsaken ice cap. She, a cape with snow-based powers... She might as well have pulled the trigger herself.

"What was I thinking?" she murmured to herself.

"What was that?"

She shook her head, hanging her head. "Nothing. I'd like to be alone right now. Perhaps later—when Volley is awake and up to moving around—could you both return here? There's... something I need to discuss with you both."

...

She turned her face away from Poltergeist's interrogation of Glass. She had nearly forgotten herself—forgotten the reason why she had separated herself from the group. Why she had refused any further offers to take up a new partner or sidekick.

Working with someone required getting to know them. The closer one got to another, the more they learned each other's habits and patterns, the more efficiently they would work together. But on the other hand, the closer and stronger the bond became, the greater the backlash when it was severed.

She had already felt the effects and had decided she wanted no more part in it. What was happening to Looking Glass was tragic, but at least this way, he too would have a chance to learn the lesson she had. Perhaps he would grow as a person, learn to stop relying on others to carry him.

She rolled over onto her back, groaning slightly as she pulled at bruised and sore muscles. Perhaps he'd learn it was easier to simply roll over and give up to spare any further pain.

"Heh... once bitten, twice shy, is that it?"

Her eyes snapped open. That sounded like something she might say.

"Where's the scary lady who stood up to Auntie Marge whenever she thought she was being unreasonable? Who didn't give a crap because it was her sister she was yelling at?"

Aunt Margaret, she corrected reflexively, even as she felt her eyes misting over slightly. She had felt good as a protector. It didn't matter that most of the time it really had been Karen's own fault for bringing down her aunt's wrath. It didn't matter that most of the time she lost whatever arguments she had gotten into. Karen didn't care about the results. What'd mattered to her at the time was that she'd tried. Karen just wanted to know that she had her older sister's support.

But whilst it had felt right, she hadn't been able to save Karen when mattered the most. She had thought it would have been different, taking her weakness and turning it into a strength. But even after she'd received her powers, nothing had changed.

"You'll always be a team leader to me, Flurry."

Looking Glass had told her that, just a few weeks ago. Had it really been that long? He still looked up to her. He still went to her for advice. He was still willing to support her, even when she had warned him away. He had come to help her even when she didn't need it, and now he found himself in this position.

Because she hadn't protected him?

"Oh for fuck's sake, he's a big boy who can take care of himself. Except when he can't... like now."

Oh hells. She felt her eyes welling up with tears and could do nothing to stop them.

Heedless of the situation, she reached up to remove her mask, running her sleeve across her face. She noted a clone turning her way as it caught the movement, stepping away from the perimeter to investigate.

She hadn't asked to be in charge of the eclectic group she had found herself at the head of. She hadn't wanted to be responsible for them...

"You're not responsible for the crap he gets himself into."

...but she was. Even in death—even just a memory—he still seemed to have the ability to cut her reasoning and justification to shreds. All that was left was a simple truth.

She was a parahuman. She was a cape. She was a hero. She didn't have to be responsible for the messes that other people—normal or otherwise—found themselves in. She wasn't even responsible for resolving it for them.

She was a hero, all that she had to worry about was putting in the effort. It was only if she didn't try that she would have reason to feel sorry for herself. Only by not putting forth the responsibility would she have failed.

"Bu~ut then again, since when has anyone ever been satisfied with 'they put in a good effort?'"

Flurry held her face mask over her head, turning it over in the light. It was pure white. Featureless, with no markings. A thin, white layer of fabric covered the eye holes, allowing her to see out, but keeping anyone at a distance from seeing her eyes. She remembered when she had decided on this design—or lack of one—when she had been crafting her costume.

Snow means purity.

She tossed it to the side and rose into a sitting position. She threw back her hood and climbed to her feet, facing the approaching clone head-on with a narrow-eyed glare.

She raised her arms out in front of her and began to reestablish her field. Snow flurries began spiralling through the air, reaching Poltergeist and beyond. The boundary enclosed every single one of the clones—she had expanded its range to make sure. Then she went to work.

"Knock 'em dead, Sunny."

She smiled grimly. Of course she would. Snow means death.

...

Poltergeist raised a spectral hand to the two clones holding James against the ground and poked them each in the forehead, her finger stabbing deeply into their skulls in turn. "Hold him," she ordered them. "Make sure he doesn't get back up, not like he could do anything either way."

She raised her current clone's body to it's full height and turned towards Flurry. "Now, let's see what Boss-Lady has got up her slee—oh, wow. She looks pissed."

She had felt the chill of Flurry's powers taking effect and she was wary of any sudden snowballs that might fly her way. The clouded air was making it slightly harder to see, but Poltergeist wasn't worried about that. She had Flurry's measure in regards to her power set. She'd watched her in combat for many years, up to and including the Behemoth fight. Granted, the last one hadn't been much of a fight at all, but if there had been any unusual tricks the snow woman had up her sleeve, she would have used them long before now.

Even the ginormous snowball she formed to simply crush the first clone was within her expectations. A bit odd and bloodthirsty, perhaps, but even that could work out for her. As before, the ball broke into pieces and piled against the ground, but after a few moments the pile shifted and two more clones rose to meet her.

Then she flattened them again, sandwiching them against the previous attack before they had even freed themselves part way.

Poltergeist lifted an eyebrow. Flurry was intentionally using lethal force on her minions? That was interesting. Might as well play along and spare her some time. Commanding her current body to stand still for a few moments, she ejected herself and whipped through a quartet of duplicates standing at the edge of the sentry line before she returned. The four immediately turned and charged Flurry, who was still standing in her original position.

With access to her current avatar's senses, Poltergeist felt the wind picking up, the temperature dropping just a little bit more. Before they had even gone ten paces, all four clones had been flattened. Then buried once again.

Grumbling beneath her breath, Poltergeist left to commanded a dozen more clones to close in on the hero, but this time they were to avoid her attacks as best as possible. They got a little bit farther, but now snow was removing itself from the previous attacks to join the freshly generated snowballs. With attacks coming from two separate directions, they were stalled as well.

Poltergeist glared at the white-cloaked cape and set her avatar into motion, rushing for Flurry directly... but not before she had commanded the remainder of her army to attack. Dozens of clones charged forward, some directly, some looping around, others biding their time slightly and using the rest for cover.

Flurry pressed her counterattack and clones dropped, only to emerge fresh and doubled in number. They were felled in turn, duplicating again, and again. Ajax and his sidekick had fallen to this very same reckless charge, discovering too late that the clones were not just limited to the straightforward attacks they had been using previously.

The snow storm suddenly increased in strength and Poltergeist and the clones lost sight of their target. She had anticipated something like this, however, and rather than stop and await further orders or visuals of their target, the clones continued charging where they had seen her last.

A small pile of them had already formed as they collapsed upon her location and Poltergeist could hear the meaty smacks and thuds as they pummeled their poor victim.

Then a large icicle flew down from above, impaling a good portion of the mob.

Poltergeist snapped her head to the side and saw the blizzard parting before her, revealing Flurry having moved several metres to the side. The normally stoic cape still wore a slightly mocking smile as she stretched out one arm...

...and pointed it towards the sky.

The remaining duplicates charged Flurry's new position even as Poltergeist glanced upwards. Her shock transmitted itself to her hijacked body, its face turning pale as she saw the numerous shards of ice forming overhead. Even as she watched, a formation of snow collected in midair, shaking slightly as unseen pressures forced it together, compacting it and solidifying it. After several long seconds a brand-new icicle had joined the growing number of sharp, pointy death aimed towards the ground.

Flurry had apparently been busy whilst she'd baited out the earlier attacks. Her hand twitched and the sky began to fall.

Poltergeist shrieked as her avatar sustained several piercing impacts. She quickly removed herself from its body, but the echoes of pain followed her for several moments and she whimpered as they slowly faded away.

All around her, clones wordlessly died as they were pierced by innumerable projectiles. They collapsed to the ground bleeding, only to flicker and reemerge, then were almost immediately felled again. The clones that had dogpiled Flurry's former position were particularly useless, so many clones caught in their regeneration cycle that they were locked into place, unable to move at all.

The gruesome scene repeated itself again and again over several long minutes. Spent icicles would return to the air, seeking out new targets. New icicles were constantly forming, providing a fresh supply of ammunition, almost in mockery of the duplicate's normal processes. Throughout it all, Poltergeist found herself sidelined, watching the massacre with impotent fury. Every time she tried to attack her directly, the snow woman veiled herself and fled to a new position.

Yet despite Flurry being constantly on the defensive, her attacks still continued to rain down as if she knew where every thing was around her. Or, more likely, the attack was automatic once triggered, freeing up her concentration on her personal defense.

Poltergeist decided she could work with that. Flurry's ability had to run out at some point. In the meantime, the violence of her attack was increasing the size of her army to ever-growing heights. If they kept divind at this rate, then eventually she would have enough minions to—

She watched as an icicle pierced a clone. Rather than fall over like the countless hundreds before it, the duplicate simple disintegrated where it stood as the projectile's momentum carried it into another clone's chest. That one did fall over and multiply.

Here and there, random clones were vanishing into dust as whatever limit they possessed had been reached. It was only a few of them, but the storm of icicles continued even then. Soon a quarter of the duplicates had vanished—then half. Soon their numbers were close to the original amount that had been fielded, but even these were rapidly being disposed of.

Whilst she had been busy gaping at the display of her army being literally cut to pieces, Poltergeist barely noticed as the two duplicates she had left guarding James were finally targeted. They both slumped to the ground and began to flicker, but the damage had been done. Looking Glass was now free, and the confusion brought on by the sudden turn of events had thrown whatever remaining composure Poltergeist still possessed into disarray.

"Poltergeist," she heard the voice calling from one side.

She spun in place just as Flurry stepped out from behind another one of her snowy veils. "You..." she growled. "You've ruined everything!"

"That was my intention," the snow cape replied. "I was not certain if Duplex's clones would have a limit to their reproduction, but it seemed to be a logical conclusion. I am fortunate that I was correct."

"You... you guessed?!" Poltergeist threw her hands up as if to tear out her hair. "You gambled that whole offensive on a guess?!"

"Indeed. By the way," Flurry raised her arm to point over Poltergeist's shoulder. "I believe someone wishes to have a word with you."

Poltergeist suddenly felt a hand clamping itself onto her head and she looked back to find Looking Glass with his arm outstretched. Touching her. Restraining her from moving.

"Like the Boss-Lady said," James quipped. "We need to talk." He took one step forward, drawing her towards his chest as he did so.

And everything went black.

ooo

(a/n)—okay, i may have been incorrect in saying wu's interlude would be the longest. this has been in the works since... oh roughly the first arc when i was hammering out flurry's backstory. some of it got cut, then i tried to divide up the flashbacks with present day stuffs. it ended up pretty darn long.

aanyhow, we're on the homestretch. this is where i have the final confrontation, and where else would a couple of mental-based capes have their final showdown? cliche, perhaps... but i reaaally couldnt think of a different way to conclude it. we'll see if i can pull it off.

'til next week!