A/N: This is a bit of a filler chapter again, I'm afraid, although it is still important for future plans and plots. Hopefully everyone who has been talking about company will enjoy this.

Jason Greene was self-aware enough to say that he was slightly bitter and cynical. Then again, a large number of people in the USA were these days, thanks to the Parahuman's running amok around the country. But Jason was a little bit beyond that normal background level.

Originally having signed up and joining the US Marines he'd been one of many that had been forced to move into the PRT following the massive redistributions of funds following the rise of the capes and the agency meant to limit their depredations.

That had been annoying, but in the end he'd been able to justify to himself that he was still serving his country and come to terms with the massive change.

Given his training and skills, he'd quickly been pushed into one of the many strike squads, operating out of New York. Initially, or at least once he was at peace with his change in circumstances, Jason had been excited to work for the Strike Squads. Parahuman's of the time hadn't settled into the relatively calmer stance they currently occupied, and there were a lot of murderer's on the street. Only a small percentage of parahuman's couldn't be stopped with a bullet, as long as you could hit them, and Jason had been expecting to be going up against those threats, protecting American citizens and stopping criminals.

Instead he'd been issued with non-lethal weapons and told his only job was containment. While super-powered over-grown children had fought like they were being filmed for a comic book movie, he'd been forced to sit back and watch as both criminal and heroes destroyed properties, lives and hope time and time again. Unable to actually do anything.

Then Leviathan sank the island of Kyushu in Japan. In the madness following that apocalyptic event, the PRT had provided the use of their strike teams to try and, again, contain the chaos. Jason Greene was one of those who had ended up in the path of Black Kaze and had subsequently lost both legs and a hand to the sword swinging maniac.

And he'd been one of the lucky ones.

But even there, the PRT troopers had been forbidden from using lethal force. The woman had literally killed thousands of people, current estimates painted a rampage of nearly twenty thousand, but still the troopers had been shackled by those in charge.

The PRT agents weren't even supposed to be involved in the fight, only being present to form a perimeter, but the Protectorate capes involved in the fight had allowed the Kaze to run wild and a lot of his friends ended up dead.

Hence the bitterness and cynicism.

Hell, Jason had heard rumours that it wasn't even the capes that stopped Kaze's rampage in the end. Apparently the fact that she killed everyone in the area and wasn't in her right mind translated to not eating or taking care of herself enough that she straight out fainted during the prolonged fight and that was what allowed the Protectorate to capture her and toss her in the Birdcage.

Jason was fully prepared to believe that was true, given his history of dissatisfaction with the PRT.

But, following the loss of limbs, and Panacea's debut being years away, Jason had been thanked for his service and removed from the agency.

Suddenly bereft of work, purpose and limbs, the next few years had been particularly difficult. Getting used to a wheelchair and the loss of his off-hand were bad enough, but the pension paid out by the PRT was barely enough to cover his living expenses. About the best they'd done was to cover his medical bills until he was finally as healed as he was going to get, then even that stopped.

Unable to remain in the New York, where all his remaining friends were PRT agents and treated him with kid gloves and pity, Jason had swiftly moved north. Unwilling the move to Boston, he'd ended up in Albany and was currently working as a check-out assistant in a mall. It wasn't great paying, or exactly glamourous, but it served to cover the bills his pension fell short on.

And this is where he'd stayed for more than a decade. Until, that is, he received a knock on the door in the last week of April.

Rolling his wheelchair out into the hall, Jason moved as quickly as he could from the lounge and TV across to the door. It was a rare day off, and he'd been planning to watch some football in peace for a while.

Absently noticing that the silhouette at his door was slightly odd somehow, but not stopping long enough to consciously think about it or work out why, he opened the door to an incredibly bizarre sight.

Rather than a person standing at his door, it was some kind of image being generated by a floating orb in the middle of the hologram.

Instantly Jason's mind went to a tinker, or someone associated with one. Why they would be at his door after more than ten years out of service was beyond him though. Which explains why he let out a rather puzzled query instead of his usual greeting, "Hello?"

Whoever this was, their technology was amazing, if it wasn't for the slightly transparent image and the view of the floating orb in the middle he'd never have known this wasn't a person. The image was of a young girl, roughly mid-teens, and at his puzzled greeting she smiled and replied, "Good afternoon Mr Greene. My name is Taylor Hebert, although you may know me better as Mechanicus, and I was hoping you had a few minutes to speak about an opportunity I have for you."

Instantly turning suspicious, Jason had to admit he'd heard of her. The infamous tinker that had embarrassed the PRT, killed the Slaughterhouse Nine and destroyed Nilbog himself. Despite all of that, and despite all of his history, he was still loyal to his nation. A lot of the speculation on the TV had been worried about her next moves, and he wasn't about to willingly betray hard-working people to die.

"Opportunity for what? And why come to me? I've been out of service for more than a decade."

Evidently divining the direction of his thoughts, Taylor's smile got a little wider. The girl gestured at where his lower legs would be as she spoke. "I'm here because of your military service, Mr Greene. Also, because of the reason for your leaving that service, you make the perfect kind of candidate for what I'm after."

Immediately thinking she was asking him to provide information in return for tinkertech to "improve" his life, Jason flushed red with anger and opened his mouth to shout at her, but before he could draw a full breath in he was interrupted.

Raising her hands palm forward, Taylor explained a little more, "Before you jump to conclusions, please note that I have no need to question you in regards to anything you've done, or any information I can use against the PRT. I already have all I need, directly from their systems. Can I come in? We can sit down and I can explain properly."

Deflating slightly, Jason didn't believe her, but at the same time this girl had annihilated some of the biggest threats in America, so it wasn't like he stood much of a chance of beating her. Especially since she wasn't really here, and he didn't have his gun with him.

Pulling back away from the door he waved her in, "I'll hear you out for killing off the Nine, but I will not willingly betray my country, girl."

Nodding her head, the hologram floated through the door and straight towards the lounge, adding to his suspicions as it seemed to suggest she'd been watching him, or checked him out ahead of time.

Rolling after her, Jason watched as the hologram appeared to settle into a chair across from where he normally stopped. Seconds later a small portal opened and another orb came through, this time towing a number of paper folders.

The topmost file floated off the pile and across to him as Taylor started talking. "First of all, a small extension of trust and a bit of proof of my word, to help put you at ease." She explained.

Taking the folder as it came into range, Jason opened it up and stared in shock at the first page. It was a copy of his service history. The front page had a photo of him from his enlistment staring back, under that were his details and a summary of actions undertaken.

Starting to flick through the file, he quickly realised Taylor was probably right. Everything that could conceivably be in his file was here, even items that should have been redacted, plus the details of his post-exit surveillance.

Looking up, he scowled at Taylor, "How the hell did you get this information?" He demanded.

Not looking phased at all, since he couldn't exactly do anything to her, Taylor replied calmly, "I have full access to all of the PRT systems, Mr Greene. Their technology level is so far below mine that they couldn't muster a hope of stopping me."

Gesturing at the drone again, another folder was floated over to him. Setting the first aside on the nearby sofa, he opened the second file and started reading. This one had nothing to do with him specifically, instead it was details of operations and reports from some of the exclusion zones in America. Based on what he knew of the PRT, this kind of intel would have been classified to only the very senior levels of the organisation.

After the first couple of pages Taylor spoke again, "I'm sure you recognise how important those documents are. I have full access to everything, even the details that would see a massive public outcry against the PRT if they had even a hint of those scandals. I didn't include any of that because it would look like I was trying to convert your loyalties more than provide you any proof."

Looking up sharply, Jason had to admit she had a point about what he would think if she'd given him anything inflammatory to check when proving her ability to enter the PRT systems, still, that begged the question, "So why not just use that stuff? If half of what I've heard about you is accurate you have a serious bone to pick with the PRT, why not embarrass them or bring them down if you have the information to?"

Spreading her hands slightly, Taylor replied, keeping her calm tone, "I am not an enemy of the USA or the PRT, Mr Greene. Yes, they caused me harm, and their leaders appear to be alternately idiots, incompetent or corrupt, but that is generally limited to the overarching decisions made. I haven't done anything about that because much as they could be better, I do agree with the goals of the PRT. The country does need people to enforce the law, to keep parahumans in check. And you don't burn everything to the ground just to deal with one small aspect. The PRT isn't perfect, or even excellent, but it's the only thing protecting a lot of people. Until I can create a replacement for that system I will work around them."

Staring at her in disbelief for a second, Jason expressed his doubts with a self-depreciating tone of mild scorn, waving a hand to indicate his body, "And I'm a good candidate for helping with that?"

Smiling again, Taylor explained, "You are. To be blunt, the loss of your limbs and physical abilities are trivial to fix. I need people who can hold true, who can deal with bad situations and overcome them, I need thinkers and soldiers, not thugs, Mr Greene."

Leaning back a little, as if she was relaxing, Taylor explained her position a little more, "To let you in on a bit of a secret, Mr Greene, I am not a parahuman. My technology is not tinkertech. I triggered and it provided me with the knowledge and blueprints far in advance of anything any Tinker could hope to create or maintain. The weapon I used to destroy Ellisburg isn't even that powerful, not in the grand scheme of things. That is why I cannot work with the PRT. If they got access to my designs, as things stand, I estimate that in less than a year there would be multiple copies of my weapons across the globe, and they would get used."

Waving a hand expansively, Taylor finished her explanation, "Either someone would decide that an Endbringer attack was in another country, so they would fire at that country, or a cape would get control, or even an escalation between countries as resources dwindle, or for whatever other reason, someone would cause untold devastation because the PRT more leaks than a sieve. I can do better. I have to be better."

The two sat in silence for a few moments, before Jason huffed to himself slightly, hefting the folder of stolen Intel thoughtfully, "Well, I can't fault your train of thought. You would know more about the leaks in the PRT than I would, but if it's that bad, and those weapons were publically available, I have to agree that someone would push the button. So what is it you want from me, really?"

Leaning forward, she grinned happily as she spoke in a conspiratorial tone, "Do you want to hear the sales pitch then?"

Unable to keep himself from returning the grin, Jason leaned back, feeling much more relaxed now that he knew this was unlikely to turn unpleasant when he refused to betray the PRT, and now that he understood a little more of her intentions. "Go on then, wow me."

Leaning back again, Taylor started explaining her offer, "You come join me as a member of my planned strike teams. I will return you to full health and fitness, I will provide you with armour, weapons and equipment that will make the best tinkers in the country look like children playing with Lego. I will also provide you with the best training and care, in return you will work to remove anyone trying to murder, suppress or attack their fellow man from around the world. You agree to serve me for ten years, and after that you are free to go wherever you choose, fully healed with new cloned organic limbs, or cybernetic replacements. The pay packet will also be excellent, so you should have both a good pension, and savings when you're done. All forms of health care, plus accommodation and food are included."

Scratching his chin, and absently noticing he needed a shave, Jason considered the pitch for several long moments. It sounded excellent, which was enough to create questions on his own. Watching the hologram as he thought, Jason eventually decided to be blunt, "And the down sides?"

Tilting her head to acknowledge the query, Taylor did her best to go over all of the pitfalls the man could expect, "Well, first of all I'm sure you can realise that this will involve a fair amount of serious combat. The planning stages will be done in conjunction with the senior staff once I have them, and those threats beyond my rangers will be dealt with more directly, but you can still expect a lot, and that will lead to losses at some stage."

Quietly acknowledging the point, and thankful that she'd gone to the effort to state the expected pace of combat ahead of time, Jason felt that a lot of recruitment speeches didn't mention just how often you'd be fighting for your life, or for someone else's. Same with losses. The marines had taught him to fight, to obey orders, to keep going and win, but they weren't so good about teaching you how to deal with lost friends.

Motioning for her to go on, he stayed quiet, it was clear there was more.

"Most importantly, part of the process to turn you into a weapon I can use will involve implants, and two of those implants will be, essentially, a loyalty chip, and a kill switch." Taylor explained.

Suddenly shooting as fully upright as he could, Jason stared at her in shock, she wanted to implant him with what?!

Holding her hands up again, Taylor spoke more rapidly to forestall any brewing storm, "Let me explain. The loyalty chip will just ensure you cannot betray me. No revealing my location, attacking me, or leaking information or equipment outside my organisation. It will prevent you from talking to anyone that shouldn't know anything, but once your ten years are done that is the only part that will remain. It will also not override your current loyalties, so I can't just install the chip and then get the information you want to protect that way. It cannot effect your decisions, only kick in if you tried to, for instance, pass off a protected weapon to a friend in the army."

Relaxing slightly, Jason parsed the information and worked it out in his own head a little, "Okay, so it will be like a blocker then? Stops me from doing things in the now, but without changing my thought process?"

Nodding her head, Taylor agreed, "Yes, that's a good description. It's only there as insurance, so you can still question my decisions and disagree with me, but you can't run off and sell your gear to the highest bidder."

Considering the explanation for a few moments, Jason eventually nodded, before prompting Taylor to explain the next part, "The kill switch?"

"Right, that's the other side of things to ensure my equipment doesn't fall into anyone else's hands. In the event that all other methods fail, including the numerous fail-safe's, and an individual is either lost on the battlefield, or taken by a third party, the entire body will self-destruct, taking all of the technology with it." Taylor explained.

Seeing the still sceptical look on his face, Taylor carried on, "Under normal circumstances there are numerous fail-safes to keep my people safe. I don't actually know of anything that can block my portals, for instance, and each individual will have beacons to return them to base should they be captured or die, but the kill switches will be there in case everything else fails. I will not be ascribing to the black op mentality, so it's not a case of disavowing someone, or to hold it over them, it's to ensure that my technology cannot be used to add to the chaos in the world."

Sighing to himself, Jason commented, "Not gonna lie, I'm still getting vibes of minions dying when plans go wrong."

Laughing a little, Taylor replied, "Given historic examples, and what the PRT did to you, I can see why you would come to that conclusion."

Here she paused, looking at him intently for a few moments before leaning forward again, "To give you a bit better context, I'll share some personal details, and some information most don't know about parahumans."

Scratching her chin, or at least the hologram appeared to be doing that, Taylor started with the explanation of parahuman mentalities. "As a member of the PRT, you will be aware of how parahuman's trigger. What you might not be aware of is the fact that the trigger essentially reinforces that trauma. They are all broken, and their actions reflect that.

Staring straight into his eyes, she made sure to show just how serious she was as she spoke, seeing the confusion on his face, but giving him the additional information he needed, "I triggered, yes, and I became a parahuman, yes. But what my trigger gave me was a vast amount of knowledge, and then it burnt out. That information included a mind-boggling array of technological data, but also went far beyond that. Soft skills, scientific knowledge, and military were all included. So while I am aware of the stereotypical villain killing minions when things go wrong, I know how bullshit that is."

Leaning back, Taylor waved a hand dismissively, "All of those old military adages have become rote just because they are so true. No plan is perfect, no mission is perfect, things will go wrong and all we can do is deal with that. Executing some poor sap just because of a bad day is never going to happen."

Suddenly, she bared her teeth in a vicious smile, "Although if someone betrays me or mine, all bets are off."

Laughing in concert with the thought, Jason sat back in his wheelchair as he considered things. The fact that Taylor had admitted to not being a parahuman was both odd, and a deep relief. Jason had been in the PRT strike squads for years, he knew just how broken all capes were. If this girl wasn't afflicted in the same way they were, then her claims of being stable enough not to randomly kill minions was probably true.

That said, Jason had never heard of a parahuman's powers burning themselves out. Going haywire and killing the individual if the brain structures were damaged? Yes. Just up and disappearing? No.

Seeing his disbelief building, Taylor projected a second hologram beside it. This time it was Jason's skeletal structure, right down to a break he'd had as a kid. "This is real-time scanning," She explained, while Jason shifted his limbs and watched the corresponding change in view.

Changing the hologram, it now showed a human brain, "This is me. And if we zoom in, you can see here the structures, or at least, the scar tissue they left behind. There are no other abnormal growths in my brain, although unless you have some medical expertise you will have to take my word for it."

Continuing to stare at the view for a while, Jason eventually sighed. While he wanted to be wary of the kill switch still, the lure of new limbs was too great right now. Deciding to shelve that issue for the moment, he asked a different question, "Alright, I need to think on that some more. Tell me about the equipment you'll be provided, and what you expect us to be doing."

Smiling happily, Taylor clearly felt she had him as she clapped her hands together, "Alright, on to the fun stuff! Starting with what I want you to be doing, your first true mission is going to be taking out Bastard Son. However, before that you will all be working with me to see how I deal with some threats. Most of your time will be taken up with training simulations, they are much more true to life and in depth than anything you'd have been in before. Combined with the health treatments you should be more than ready to take the fight to anyone that needs it."

Manipulating the secondary hologram again, Taylor brought up the image of a soldier with clearly mechanical legs, decked out in robes and armour and the image of a number of guns hovering next to him. "As for equipment, allow me to introduce you to the various load-outs available for the Skitarii Rangers."

Moving forward a little to get a closer look, Jason started paying more attention as Taylor went through each of the pieces of kit, answering questions and detailing alternatives she could provide depending on the mission.

As they talked Jason became even more relaxed as the girl took advice, listened and factored new information in to her plans with a level of calm aplomb seasoned veterans would have been jealous of.

The issue was always at the back of his mind, but as time wore on Jason realised he'd made his decision. He was going to sign on. Hopefully he wouldn't come to regret this.

Once the techno detailed talk had finished, Jason retreated back to his normal spot in the room and leaned back. Sighing to himself, he spoke up seconds later, "I really hope I don't regret this. It sounds like you have a decent plan, and the idea of getting my limbs back is too damn tempting. I'm in."

Grinning happily, Taylor instantly clapped her hands together in glee. "Excellent, I'm glad to have you on board. How long do you need to be able to wrap up your affairs here, you won't be able to return for roughly a week, and it will be sporadic after that. I can offer storage space alongside the accommodation if that helps."

Rubbing a finger down one side of his face, Jason considered his situation and position for a while before replying. "Give me a week and I'll be able to join you."

Nodding her head, Taylor replied, "That works perfectly for me. Your signing bonus will be in your bank account momentarily, $80,000 as agreed. If you need to move things into storage, let me know and I can arrange space where I am now. I can also send some drones along that can obey complex instructions. I be back to collect you in a week. I will see you then, Mr Greene."

Smiling at the girl, Jason agreed and bid her goodbye, watching in shock as the little orb in the middle of the hologram depowered, the image disappearing at the same time. As the robot dropped a small portal opened above his couch and the orb disappeared inside and out of view.

Chuckling to himself, Jason rolled over to the phone to call his workplace. He didn't have a great relation with them, so he was fine with leaving them shorthanded. Then he had more plans to make.

…

As promised, a week later Taylor opened a portal into the much barer front room of Jason Greene's living area and stepped through, this time in person.

Approaching the wheelchair bound man, Taylor reached out and shook his hand. "Good morning, Mr Greene. All ready to go?"

Nodding his head, the man agreed, "Yeah, all packed up and everything sent through to you. I have to say though, this is an awful risk. What if I'd contacted the PRT to conduct a sting operation?"

Smiling with far more teeth than such a word implied, Taylor gave him the information he was fishing for, "I did have you under surveillance, Mr Greene. And if you had tried, I would have had to take offense, even if I had to go through the PRT to do so."

Laughing lightly, Jason bobbed his head in a quick nod. "As long as you considered the issue and are taking thing seriously. If you weren't acting with some common sense I don't think I would have been able to follow you."

Giving off a much softer and nicer smile to show she wasn't offended, Taylor replied, "It's alright, the information I have more than covered such things, and I've heard the same from the people we will be joining. Now, shall we head off? Orientation is due to start when we get there, you're the last to arrive."

Swiftly agreeing, Jason wheeled his chair through the still open portal Taylor had indicated, looking forward to a new chapter in his life and quite eager to see what she meant when she talked about a base.

He hesitated slightly at the precipice of the portal, but quickly took charge of his courage and rolled through.

Given the care and attention Taylor had shown in her actions so far, he wasn't entirely surprised by the smooth transition from his home to a polished rock floor, but there was a little surprise that he didn't have to fall even slightly.

Seconds later Taylor stepped through and took the lead, taking him along the corridor to his right as she strode with purpose.

"I sent a message to everyone else just before I left to meet you, so they should all be gathered in one of the observatories. I'll be filling in the rest of the details, taking any questions, then explaining the next steps there." She told him in a brisk tone. "I apologise for not letting you get to know everyone else straight away, but there are so many things that need my attention, and far too many threats to be dealt with. Part of your training will allow you to take the time to fit together though."

Accepting the details, Jason spoke up with a wry tone, "Straight into the fire, then?"

Glancing sideways at him and smiling quickly, Taylor agreed, "Afraid so. You'll be at peak health and fully trained with your gear before that, much more than you would be used to previously thanks to the gear I've built for you all. But too many people are dying to sit idle for too long."

Nodding his head, Jason fell silent as the duo carried on. A short elevator ride and another corridor bringing them to a double doorway which opened as they approached.

Inside the room were another nineteen people milling around, mostly making themselves drinks or grabbing meals from the tables at the back. Leaning down slightly Taylor spoke to Jason, "Grab yourself a drink and some food if you're hungry. We'll be talking for a bit before we move on."

Despite his experience, Jason hadn't actually eaten much that morning. Partly because of nerves, partly because of how little he had left unpacked, so he eagerly rolled across to the tables and sorted himself a cooked breakfast and some coffee.

After collecting his food he rolled across to one of the tables where there was a free space and parked himself on the end to eat. Saying hello to those closest to him, he was introduced to Katie Skyr, Angela Moretz, and Brian Hands, all previously from the US Army. He absently noted that Katie was missing one foot, and that Brian had trouble holding his utensils. He also said hello to William Moore, previously from the British SAS. Moore had a patch over one eye, clearly having lost it at some point.

Glancing around, Jason quickly realised that nearly everyone had signs of medical issues, probably why they were all out of the various militaries or PRT agencies in the first place.

He'd only just started working on the food in front of him when Taylor stood up near the blank wall at the back, tapping a tea cup with a spoon to get their attention.

"Good morning, everyone. Now that everyone from this first recruitment is here, we can get started. Thank you to those who have been waiting patiently for me to move forward. I thought we'd start with a bit of orientation. So first of all, welcome to the Olympus Mons base, and welcome to Mars." Speaking in a calm tone, there was still a bit of mischief in her voice as she finished that sentence.

As everyone started to glance at each other, wondering if Taylor was joking, she clicked a remote taken from her pocket and the wall behind her started to lift. Seconds later everyone was gaping at the view of the red planet from high above the rest of the ground level.

"Yes," Taylor explained at their gobsmacked looks, "We are on Mars. I needed to ensure that none of the various people or agencies on Earth could hope to enslave me, and this was the perfect choice. Hopefully, this will clear up any lingering doubts about my ability to follow through on my promises."

Standing in the middle of the now clear view, Taylor smiled and gave them all a few moments to regain their senses before carrying on, "So, our next steps are simple, from your point of view. Over the last few weeks I have had a healing chamber built and set up for each of you. You will enter the pod, fall asleep and spend the next week being brought back to peak health and beyond, which will take five days. The device will also install all of the combat mods I've already discussed with you. The secondary aspect of these pods is that you will all be linked into a virtual reality environment."

Clicking the remote again, Taylor brought up a hologram of a large, tubular coffin device. A clear glass pane was hinged open at the front, and various tally lights covered it. Around the top, presumably where the head would rest, were incredibly delicate and intricate vines of a crystalline material.

"Using this software," Taylor continued, "you will have a training period of roughly nine months together. This will include down time, synthesized rest, and the ability to slowly adapt to the upgrades you will receive. The training will, once you reach that stage, also involve fully simulated missions, it will feel like you are there, learning and acting together. I can tap into this network at any time to provide advice, answer queries or speak to anyone about anything they wish to discuss."

Looking around at all of them, Taylor made sure her face was as serious as she could make it, "That said, you are all military personnel, and you all have a lot of experience. So I expect that during this time you will organise yourselves in to two effective squads, and find a leader for each."

As Taylor made a slight gesture, Jason startled as small portals opened next to each of them in the room and deposited a tablet. Putting down his fork and grabbing the one next to him, Jason started checking the functions out, seeing options for a note pad program straight away, as well as what looked like a map symbol.

He stopped his investigation when Taylor spoke again, "Now, I'm going to head off to set up some of the next stages in a moment. What I want you to do is to finish your meals, relax a little, and when you feel ready, click on the map symbol. That will lead you to me and the healing chambers, where I will put you in to the pods. Feel free to write down any questions you have as well."

Looking around one last time, Taylor noted that everyone was still processing the information she'd dropped on them and nodded before heading out. "See you soon."

As soon as the young girl was out of the door the room erupted into conversation. Initially it was just people discussing the healing aspect of the process, and the hopes that Taylor could actually provide good alternatives to limbs, or deal with the issues people had.

Then the discussion got more technical as someone found more details about the healing pods on their tablet and everyone switched to that. Jason found, as he did the same, that his version actually explained what would be happening to his limbs. It appeared that during the working part of his life he would be equipped with bionic replacements which had all of the functions of a natural limb. When he was on leave, or when his service term was up, he would have the option of sticking to bionic, but also having cloned replacements instead.

Looking up from his wide-eyed stare at the specifications of the bionic limbs, Jason mentioned this out loud to the group, causing nearly every one of them to look over at him, before they all dived into their own tablets.

"Hey," came an exclamation from a different table, "My treatment plan is here as well. It says she can graft an entire secondary nervous system in to bypass the spinal damage!"

There were shocked murmurs at that, which Jason added to when he mentioned the limb options he had. Apparently the others with missing parts were just as relieved to hear about being able to have biological replacements too.

From there the conversation swiftly turned to the combat upgrades, and guesses at how strong each of them would end up in the process.

No-one found any direct information on that, so Luke Allen, an ex-Royal Navy man volunteered to ask the question, writing the query onto his tablet.

Given that everyone in the group was ex-military, this was obviously of great interest to all of them, so soon after the group finished eating and headed for the medical facility as a single group.

Jason found himself rolling alongside Angela, who had actually quit the PRT in protest of being forced to use Con Foam against a stranger that liked to rape women. Angela turned out to have a hilarious sense of humour, but she was even more cynical and bitter than Jason had ever been, so it tended to take a turn for the black.

Still, it was short walk and the tall woman, along with a man called Scott who had to use crutches because of a missing leg, kept his attention well enough that he only realised they'd arrived when they trooped into a large room.

This was clearly the medical bay, as the large pod/coffin things were spaced evenly along two walls.

The pods were currently standing upright, glass fronts facing the room, but Jason knew from the schematics on the tablet that they would tip back to horizontal once in use.

Taylor herself was at a station to the right of the door, standing at a bank of computer screens and controllers and facing the room, by the time Jason entered the room she'd stepped away and was facing the group with a smile. "Hello again. Since none of you appear to be trying to run for the hills, I assume you are either still on board, or have some questions?"

As the man who volunteered to write down some of the questions, Luke found himself the spokesman, so he stepped forward checking his tablet, "There are a few questions, yes."

At a go on gesture from Taylor, Luke immediately launched into his queries, "The first one we had was just how combat capable the implants you've listed will make us."

Tilting her head slightly, Taylor considered the question carefully for several seconds before replying, "Well, a lot of it will still depend on the individual, as a base line you will have strength, speed, reflexes and minds beyond human norms. However, different individuals react to different augments, and your baseline body can have an effect. Nothing so crass as gender gap or anything like that, but if your mind and body are geared towards a heavy front line combat style, compared to a skirmisher, this will be reflected. It's known that even two brothers ended up very physically different by the end. That's part of why the tactical simulations while the alterations propagate are so important, you will feel that change as well as effect it in yourself, and that will show in how your simulation changes."

Thinking slightly to double check what she'd said, Taylor nodded before returning her attention to Luke, "Does that answer your question?"

Chuckling a little, "As good as it's going to get, from the sounds of it. We were hoping for a more accurate measurement, but I guess that will have to wait until all of the changes are done. Next question then, what happens if we want out of the contract before our end day?"

Nodding her head slightly, Taylor replied, "You will be paid up until the end of your notice period, and the implant to prevent you from speaking to anyone about my affairs will remain, but you will lose any of the benefits you would have received at the end. You will be able to request the healing procedures, but you will need to pay for them. I can update your tablets with a cost if that helps?"

Glancing at everyone else, and receiving nods from those that had been worried, Luke turned back to Taylor and nodded, "That would set our minds at rest, and what happens if we are unable to fulfil our duties? Does the same apply?"

Frowning slightly in confusion, Taylor asked for a clarification first, "I assume you mean if there's an injury?" Receiving a nod in return she carried on, "In that case, no. First of all, it would have to be absolutely catastrophic injury that I couldn't negate or heal it, but if something were to turn up that made you unable to function as part of the squads you would get everything from the contract. You would have the choice of a lump sum un-front payment, or carrying on getting monthly payments until the final period, but all of the extras would be yours."

There were several sighs of relief at that point, clearly some of them had worried a repeat of the end of their service to the PRT or other agencies.

"Final question, then." Luke carried on once everyone had gone back to silence, "Will we be able to turn down a mission? If we disagree with the action, I mean?"

Smiling again, Taylor replied, "As long as it's out of legitimate moral concerns. No chance of getting out of things just because you want to stay in bed."

Hearing several snorts at that line, especially coming from a teenager. Jason relaxed and saw Luke lower the tablet out of the corner of his eye. Clearly the questions part was done. Feeling anxious to get started, he moved himself forward and spoke.

"Well then, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready to get started! What's next?" He asked.

Giving the man a brief grin, Taylor quickly took charge when it looked like everyone was in agreement, "If you're all still on board?"

Not hearing any dissent, Taylor nodded and carried on, "Each of the pods has been specially set-up for each individual, so you will find a note with your name on it next to the correct pod. There are locker rooms through the door at the end, head in there and change into the clothes provided, leave everything else in the locker, and then find your pod. As you come back I will get your situated and ready."

Giving the girl a grin back, Jason rolled down the length of the room, finding two doors for men and women he rolled through the correct one and found another hallway. On the left hand side of the short corridor were doors with their last names on, so he quickly found his assigned room. Inside was a shower, toilets and locker bank.

Beside the door was the light switch and another button he could press if he wanted help.

Checking the lockers, he quickly found the clothes he needed to change into, which comprised a compression set of tight cloth trousers and long sleeved top. Changing with the ease of long practice, Jason noted the way the fabric immediately clamped on to the stumps of his missing limbs, the extra fabric rolling up so it wouldn't get in the way.

Rolling back out of his room, he joined a couple of others done at a similar time as they returned to the main room. Heading back to the top of the room he checked the cards next to each pod as he went, finally finding his three down from the top on the left. Taylor was already helping another man into his pod, using some kind of anti-gravity device to float the man out of his wheelchair and into the pod.

As it was the man that had exclaimed about the second nervous system, and he had all his limbs, Jason assumed he couldn't walk, but gave it no more thought. The instructions on the back of his name card told him to put his hand into a piece of machinery nearby, so he busied himself with that while waiting on Taylor.

The device was obviously some kind of medical scanner, as he watched several differently coloured lights sweep over his hand. A little warning appeared on the top before a needle took a small sample of blood from his fingertip, then it lit up green and he withdrew his hand.

With that done, and no more instructions on the card, he waited for Taylor, watching the rest of the room for the next few minutes as she dealt with each person in turn before reaching him.

Smiling as she approached, Taylor greeted him as she headed for the medical box he'd just used, "Hello, Jason. Let's check what the medical scans tell us first."

Nodding his head, he wheeled slightly to the side to give Taylor some room.

Bringing up the screen, Taylor reviewed everything carefully before turning back to him, "Well, that's good news. The scans show you are clear for limb replacement, both bionic and cloned, there shouldn't be any problems with that. It looks like there could be long-term issues with your liver because of some of the medications you've been prescribed in the past, but the pod will clear that up."

Feeling slightly annoyed that all of the drugs he'd been shoved on following the loss of his limbs, Jason was still a bit impressed that her machine both detected it, and would fix it. Grinning slightly he just commented, "That's good news for sure then."

Giving him a brief grin Taylor agreed with a cheerful voice, "Indeed. I've seen similar issues in a number of your compatriots, but it shouldn't stay as an issue. Now, in terms of your enhancements, it looks like you will be developing as a fast support. I'm guessing a little, but under the PRT you would probably be assigned a Brute 3, Mover 4 rating. That's without arms and armour or equipment. I hope that path is acceptable?"

Considering the prediction for a few moments, Jason clarified, "Fast support? Can you clarify what that means?"

"Essentially, it will mean that you don't form the first line of offense in an operation," Taylor explained, "Your equipment loadout will depend on the mission, but it will mean carrying more specialised weaponry, instead of the heavier weapons, or equipment designed to tank enemy fire. Does that match your thoughts?"

Thinking furiously, Jason considered that, eventually deciding that he would be providing over watch on his colleagues he had to admit it was a role he would prefer. Nodding his head he agreed, "I think I can work with that. What's next?"

Without any kind of gesture, one of the numerous drones in the room zipped over to settle above Jason, showcasing Taylor's control over her domain. For his part Jason looked up at the little bug shaped thing apprehensively, between the green glow, the bug like head, and the little sharp looking claws, it was not a reassuring thing to have hovering over your head.

Then the green glow expanded and Jason was floating out of his chair, but somehow still feeling supported. Looking down, he could definitely see his wheelchair had been left behind, but it honestly felt like he was still in it.

As he lifted, the effect changed so that his limbs straightened out and he was floated across to the pod as it shifted into a horizontal position.

Glancing at Taylor showed him she was smirking at his astonished face, giving him a cheerful comment of "Antigravity" when she noticed his attention.

Huffing slightly, Jason touched down in the pod and watched as straps would around his chest, shoulders waist and limbs. Leaning over him, Taylor quickly checked the straps before asking him a question, "How do these feel, not too tight?

Testing the range of movement, which wasn't a lot, but not feeling any pinching or pain, Jason shook his head.

"Good, this is the next step. With the medical data added to the pod I will be putting an air mask on you shortly, that will give you a sleeping agent, then the pod does its work while your mind is connected to the simulation." Standing back up, Taylor moved towards the head of the pod, still speaking to Jason calmly.

"The next time you see me will be after you're fully healed and the implants and replacement limbs are in place." So saying, Taylor came back into view with a sort of gas mask, an articulated pipe leading off above his head. Being careful, she fitted the device over his head and settled it on his face.

Checking some gauges for a moment, she looked at him afterwards and queried, "Fitting alright?"

Giving his new boss another nod, she grinned and hit something on the side of the pod, the smell of the air from the mask changing slightly just after. "Alright then, count to ten calmly, and I will see you on the other side!"

Taking the advice, Jason took slow calm breaths as he counted. He never reached five before his eyes dropped and he fell asleep.

…

Carefully watching the gauges, charts and data streams of the healing pod as her latest recruit fell asleep, Taylor nodded to herself as everything stayed in optimum condition. The concoction she'd given them had been massively tested within the greater Imperium, but there was no need to be sloppy and rely on blind trust. Millennia of genetic drift could be just as much a factor as anything else, so despite her own research, she kept a close watch.

This process was repeated on each of the twenty soldiers, the lid of the pod closing and sealing after they were asleep. At that point the pod filled with the nutrient solution the healing would use, rotating back to upright so all of the information was directly in front of anyone checking the pod.

Looking around after they were all safely ensconced, Taylor smiled happily in triumph. These twenty soldiers would form the next stage of her progress towards ending the threat to Earth. In every encounter they faced against enemy Parahuman's they would be sending back data about the trans-dimensional nature of those links.

The information provided by her benefactors proved beyond doubt that there were realities and dimensions completely outside the destructive power of the Entities. Logically, that meant those same things were limited to specific areas, it was just a case of finding Scion's real body by examining the dimensional data.

She already had weapon designs that could wipe him out at the source, Virus bombs and other Exterminatus level destruction engines, but that was all useless unless she could find him.

Parahuman's appeared to be ignorant of the source of their powers, and very few of them were capable of tracing dimensional threads, but even if they were, she suspected their powers would be unable to connect anyone to a reality where an actual shard, or Entity, resided.

However, those precise restrictions themselves were a clue, narrowing down the target realities. Hopefully that inbuilt stupidity of the aliens would work in her favour and Scion was only blocking off realities where the shards were, and not an entire sub-set of realities.

It would make her job so much easier.

Still, just being able to trace shards would be a massive improvement. Parahuman's like The Butcher, who were so dangerous to put down, could then be eliminated permanently.

But, there were enough threats that she should be able to get some good use out of the squad at the same time as they gathered data. Not everything could be solved with a giant doom laser, after all!

Making a note to make sure the squads were aware of the scanning aspect of their gear, Taylor headed off to the planning room. The increased numbers of people would necessitate some changes in her supply chain.

She had plenty of money now, so it was only making sure her weekly shop increased to sufficient levels.

Pausing slightly, she quietly muttered to herself, "I really hope they can cook for themselves, I don't want to be making food for twenty people all the time."

Shaking her head she headed off. All of them had been living on their own when she called, part of why she chose them, so they must be somewhat self-sufficient, and she had better things to be getting on with.

…

There was a fairly famous quote, popularised in TV, included in poems and songs, it bounced around every now and then. It was also included as part of the artwork in the office of one Rebecca Costa-Brown.

Demons run, and Angels tremble, when a good man goes to war.

The chief-director of the PRT told anyone that asked that the quote was there as a reminder, for the heroes under her command about the perils of going too far, but also to the normal men and women of the PRT to remind them just how much damage someone could do when they truly believed themselves just and right.

Privately, the quote was there as a subtle nod to her less than legal actions under the aegis of the group Cauldron. It was to remind Rebecca that men had known long before she sold her soul and morals of how dark a place good people went in pursuit of justice.

And, it was also there because deep down, Rebecca hoped she could still be counted as a good person. That she hadn't lost everything along her journey, she was just a good woman going to war.

Should anyone learn of the number of horrific acts Costa-Brown had committed while working as both the head of the PRT, and as one of the leaders or Cauldron, she would almost certainly be condemned as a monster on par with any other parahuman to have lived so far.

Over the years, Rebecca had condemned thousands of people to misery and death, kidnapped people for experimentation, and much more. But, one of the single worst choices she'd ever had to make, in her own opinion anyway, was to allow the Slaughterhouse Nine to remain living and free.

Not so much for what the group had done in the years since Alexandria's initial fight with them, but because these were the people that ripped out her eye, that murdered and slaughtered one of her best friends, right in front of her, and she'd never been able to get closure on that.

Until now, at least.

Sat in a Cauldron conference room, Rebecca was unable to stop the slight smile from staying on her face as the leadership group, including Legend, watched the video of their demise again.

Seeing the people who had orchestrated the death of Hero die, one by one, finally feeling a small token of the terror they'd delivered to others, felt like a balm to her soul. It felt like she'd been carrying a weight for years, and she could finally put it down and rest (a funny thought, considering the weight it would require for the brute Alexandria to feel weighed down by).

Clicking the video to repeat, Rebecca checked the expressions of the companions. The first two amused Rebecca to no-end. Legend was watching the video with a laser-like focus, elbows on the table and chin resting on clasped hands. He wasn't looking particularly pleased, or upset by the footage, which was kind of expected, as he would be trying to work out the long term ramifications to the US right now.

David, on the other hand, was slouched in his seat, frowning and looking upset as the video played. Again, that was to be expected. The idea that someone else had finally beaten the Nine, when he couldn't, would not sit well with the egotistical man. The slump of his posture, and the expression on his face were what made the whole thing funny though, since he looked more like a pouting toddler than a veteran hero right now.

Glancing around the room, Rebecca took in the other reactions. Doctor Mother was taking notes, Number Man was working on new predictions. However, Contessa was looking slightly odd, seemingly uncomfortable for the first time Rebecca could remember. The usually impassive woman was fiddling with her signature Fedora while watching the video, avidly avoiding anyone's gaze as far as Alexandria's Thinker talent was suggesting.

Not bothering to restart the video again once it finished this time, instead Rebecca leaned forward and queried the others in the room, "Thoughts?"

Legend was the first to reply. The man was far smarter and craftier than they gave him credit for, so it was likely he'd noticed David's sulking and was heading off the impending explosion. "That was planned."

Shoving aside her exasperation with David for the moment, Rebecca raised a querying eyebrow to Keith, giving him a silent request to expand on that statement.

"Obviously she planned the attack," Keith, or Legend as he was publically known expanded with an eye-roll, "What I mean is that she was planning the post, and those exact deaths all the time. She used the perfect weapon on each of them, at the right time, and she made it obvious. Anyone analysing the video will quickly realise how many specialised weapons were needed for her little show and realise how much they have to plan for."

Considering the words, Rebecca nodded at the conclusion, the entire post and edited video was one long reason not to try and annoy Taylor Hebert. Sending Legend had more, Rebecca queried him again, "But?"

Nodding at her insight, Keith carried on speaking again, "But, she also knew exactly what weapons would work ahead of time. She had a lot of intelligence on them before deciding to act."

From most people, David, also known as Eidolon picked his next words to play the devil's advocate, trying to pick holes in his fellow hero's conclusion. Most people did not know David anywhere as near as well as they did. The calm tone was clearly forced as the man focused more on his personal pride than the actual conversation.

"She had access to the ENE systems, possibly multiple times, we had plenty of information on the Nine, and she could have got that information from them." He managed in an even tone, but it still ended up sounding slightly snide.

Shaking her head, Rebecca refuted that possibility before Keith needed to. "No, some of that information even we didn't have, and the PRT systems have even less. Just the information from there wouldn't have told her that the Siberian was a projection, for instance. And we only knew she could ignore physics, not that there were limits on that. Keith is right."

Turning back to the other member of the Triumvirate, "You're suggesting she had the Nine under observation?"

Putting up a hand and wavering it slightly, Keith clarified, "I'm not sure observation would be enough, not given they were mostly in hiding after her departure from the bay and her attack. No, I think that assuming she only has advanced weapons is a fallacy. She has to have advanced sensor equipment or some form of information gathering beyond anything we've seen so far."

Quickly realising exactly where the man's thoughts were going, Rebecca cut in, "And if she can pull that information from one of the most dangerous cape groups in America, she can also repeat that on anyone else."

Nodding his head, Keith quickly pointed out the other area he was concerned over, "Not just people either, but locations, such as the most important office of the PRT, and the frequent portals opening there."

Stiffening slightly, Rebecca quickly realised what was being implied. Was it possible that Taylor Hebert could find and trace the portals? Or worse, expose the number of times Rebecca used a body-double while she worked as Alexandria. Either one could provide a great deal of blackmail material, but if Taylor could follow the portals and see what was happening in Cauldron headquarters?

Disastrous did not begin to cover it.

A scoff from one side brought both of their heads around to see David sneering, "She's a child lashing out to try and prove she was hard done by. I doubt she has the ability to penetrate the defences of a well-equipped PRT building. She hasn't even done anything with the information she supposedly stole. I think the whole thing is a red herring. She made it look like she copied data to make us take her more seriously."

Rolling her eyes discretely at the way the man ended up being controlled by his ego, again, Rebecca considered his position for a few seconds before discarding it quickly after, "This is someone who destroyed a city in a single shot. We don't need reasons to take her more seriously, we already have them. And making it look like she took data would have been harder than just taking it. More importantly we have to make sure we aren't exposed and unable to protect humanity, so we would still have to consider the possibility anyway."

Turning back to Legend she let out a query to see what his thoughts were on the subject, "You think she can strike at us here, or gain information?"

Spreading his hands in a helpless gesture, Keith explained his thought process, "Those portals have already been proven to be effective teleportation devices, and between her past actions and the death of the Nine she has shown a dangerous amount of fore-knowledge. We have to accept that the possibility is there and try to mitigate the worst of it as soon as possible."

Leaning back, Rebecca considered that line of thought for a few seconds before nodding firmly, "Agreed. There's an easy first step. I can use Jessica to cover my role more often than simply when Alexandria is working, that way we can use the excuse that it's a security issue rather than conspiracy. It won't trump hard facts, but it will introduce enough doubt to muddy the waters unless Taylor can get independent verification."

Nodding his head, Keith quickly added something he'd thought of, "We should also start using an empty planet as a cut-out destination. It's one thing to trace a portal when in use, but if we alternate between several Earth's then Taylor will have to trace a portal to a second location."

Another scoff came from the side as David groused, "More damn security measures."

Ignoring the man-child, Rebecca agreed with Keith, "A good idea, looking at her actions so far we will just have to hope that she's been more focused on criminals and hasn't scanned our base already."

At that point, for the first time since the meeting started, Contessa chimed in, "My ability to path Mechanicus changed when her portal was open."

Snapping their heads around, Rebecca and Keith both observed their main trump card. Thanks to her Thinker ability, and probably only because the other woman wasn't running a path, Alexandria immediately realised this wouldn't be good news.

"Changed how?" She queried. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Looking embarrassed, Contessa replied with a certain amount of reluctance, "It stopped telling me that the Path was not found, instead it just stalled, and it just seemed to be searching for options."

Sighing heavily, Rebecca started drumming her fingers on the table. Originally the action had started as a way of gaining control over her strength, but not it was something she indulged in more due to the soothing nature of the action. Staring at the opposite wall of the meeting room, she felt she needed that more than ever right now.

Watching her fingers wearily, probably because of the number of tables the group had to replace over the years, Keith asked Contessa a follow up question, "Did you try starting a path using an indirect method? Like creating a path to protect the PRT systems during the change?"

Nodding her head, Contessa replied, "It was the same result. I got the impression that my agent was unsure what could be done at all."

"Fuck," Rebecca wasn't usually one for cursing, but this time it felt appropriate. There was a player making massive waves, and Cauldron couldn't predict where she was going or what she was going to do. Plus the entire PRT system was now hopelessly open to a third party. They were lucky secret identities weren't being sold to the highest bidder.

"Kurt," Legend again tried to find a different solution, "Do your calculations provide any more information?"

Sighing softly, Kurt looked up as he spoke, "Not a lot more than a normal analyst would provide. Heroically inclined, currently focused on threats to human life. More specifically working against those that are either not contained, or a threat to that containment. Highly organised, highly intelligent. Resents the PRT more for their failures that the specific actions against her. Calculations show that she recognises the fault lies with the individuals covering for Shadow Stalker, but resents the inadequacies in the organisation that allowed them. If she has even half the access to the PRT ENE we suspect she will also have run into interference from Coil, so he will be on her list to deal with since he was partially responsible for Stalker's actions not coming to light sooner."

Hesitating slightly, he ended his evaluation with a disgruntled tone, "Likely to turn her attention towards the PRT once direct threats are dealt with. I am unsure if this will be to dismantle the organisation and replace it, or simply to rebuild it entirely so that efficiencies are improved."

Groaning slightly, Rebecca ground out a frustrated oath as she considered the situation, "Oh great."

The PRT wasn't perfect, or even excellent, by any means, even when compared to other government agencies, but part of that was by design. If the system was too efficient then there would be less triggers, and a reduced hope that a parahuman that could actually help would appear.

Anyone working to improve the agency, and capable enough to untangle the various issues, would quickly find problems, and could instigate actual solutions. And if those were made public? It would ruin the reputation of the agency and cripple their ability to act anywhere.

It was bad enough for any government agency to get audited. For someone completely separate from the government? Nightmare fuel.

"And there's nothing we can do?" She requested harshly.

Her only answer was silence as everyone, even David, exchanged hesitant glances. Sighing heavily, Rebecca slumped in her seat. "Please tell me that damned weapon she fired could do something against the Endbringers or Scion?"

True to form, Kurt already knew the answer, having reviewed the data captured from the two instances of it being fired, "No. It will damage an Endbringer, possibly more in a single attack that has been managed thus far, but it will not inflict any permanent or debilitating damage."

"I thought we didn't know the maximum power level of the weapon? Even if we are downplaying things for the public, there could still be a significant jump in output at its maximum settings." Keith queried, ever the optimist and clearly hoping for something salvageable.

Shaking his head, Kurt refuted the possibility quickly, "It's more to do with the method of attack and the pattern of damage. It is possible that such a weapon could be scaled up enough to cause lasting damage to an Endbringer, but it would also require enough splash damage that at the very least whatever city it was in wouldn't survive."

Intrigued despite herself, Rebecca added another question to the mix, "Is there any indication that she could scale that thing up, or create another weapon that would damage an Endbringer without fallout?"

Spreading his hands in a gesture of doubt, Kurt turned his attention to Rebecca as he replied, "While I have more information on the weapon used than Contessa this time, I have only been able to glean what I can by analysing the effects of it, rather than trying to work on Miss Hebert directly. In that I am as blind as any of the PRT Thinkers."

About to speak again, Rebecca hesitated at the look on Kurt's face. A glance at Legend made it clear he'd caught the pause for what it was.

"However," Kurt proved both of them wrong, "A more objective view of trends within Tinkers, and of Miss Taylor in particular, does present some… worrying conclusions."

Exchanging glances with everyone else in the room, Rebecca quickly prompted Kurt to explain, "How so?"

"Tinkers ramp up. That's almost universal, and why so many are caught before they can become a significant threat alone." Kurt explained, "There has definitely been a degree of this in the case of Miss Hebert, going from a small taser, to the formidable hand held weapons used during her escape from Brockton Bay, then to this latest weapon. It's the speed of this advance that suggests she hasn't yet peaked."

Immediately grasping the implications, Rebecca swore before finishing the thought, "And if a city killing weapon isn't the peak of her technology, who knows what is?"

Nodding his head, Kurt just replied with a single word, "Precisely."

Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca noted that for the first time it looked like David had stopped sulking, but was now gaping in shock. Keith was rubbing the bridge of his nose in agitation. Mostly though, Rebecca just wanted to bury her head in her hands and scream.

Given all the trouble she was causing, including irrecoverably ruining the Brockton Bay experiment, Rebecca felt the damn girl had better manage something to reverse the general downward trend in the world. Anything less and she was abso-fucking-lutely more trouble that she was worth.

A/N: For all those that have requested it, I'm probably not going to do a PHO section about the death of the Nine. It would largely just be a case of people partying or congratulating Taylor. I am hoping to work various reactions from different places into the story though, so you can see how the major players adjust. Fingers crossed!