AN: Because the last chapter was brief, here's another one. For those concerned about Emma having Persona. She doesn't. It is my fault that i forgot to point out whose interlude was it. Already edited it.
The consciousness returned surprisingly. At one point in her mind, it was as if the light was turned on. After a long sensory deprivation, the five senses instantly returned overfilled her brain in pitiful milliseconds.
She was frightened to open her eyes, blinded for a second by the dimmed artificial light that illuminated her ward. Anyway, this place looked like a hospital ward.
The ceiling was as white and unfamiliar as it was there.
There... There!
Memories... She couldn't say how long it had been since she woke up for the last time, so what happened filled her head with anxious pictures.
Heroes... Heroes from the Protectorate were in her room when she woke up. But why? Why did they come to her?
She remembered the figure, the figure that was floating over her. The figure that seemed... familiar to her despite it's unnaturalness. She remembered the voice in her head. A figure, a voice... Did she became a cape?
But then... Then...
Emma. Sofia. Trigger. Father.
Horror filled her. Completely irrational and at the same time so real. The walls of the room seemed to shrink over her, threatening to crush her with its mass.
Cape.
She was a freaking cape. And heroes knew about it. For some reason, that was what scared her the most. She... She remembered that once she wanted to be a hero. She dreamed of flying in the sky like Alexandria, or of being as strong and versatile as Eidolon, tinkering like Armsmaster, but now... Now she was afraid. Heroes... Heroes, they can be like... Emma.
"No! They are heroes! Protectorate was created to help people to fight villains!" - She tried to build some kind of protection against this fear by fencing it off with a wall of belief. And she was willing to swear on anything that when she said it, it was like someone's charming and light laughing laugh came to the very edge of her mind in the summer wind.
The body... body obeyed her. She suddenly realized it, freeing herself from panic. She carefully tried to tense her muscles - and they responded with pain - but she felt her hand move upwards. After repeating operation with her legs, Taylor was quite convinced that, despite the fact that she was still as good as walking to the moon to an "acceptable" state, but she felt much, much better than the last time. Besides... The eye. She felt her eye. It was still covered with a bandage, but she felt it. But then... Was she cured? Panacea healed her?
Why? Because she was a cape?
She didn't know the answer. And she didn't really want to know. But she kept thinking about it over and over. Taylor had the feeling that if she stopped for a second, she'd interrupted the chain of thought as something would happen to her. Something would happen. Something bad.
But Taylor's plans were interrupted by hissing of the opening door. Actually, the sound of hissing attracted Hebert's attention. With some effort, turning her head towards the entrance, she noticed that there was no real door but a steel plate. Now opening door revealed a silhouette in white garment coming in. Her still unfocused vision prevented her from concentrating on the entrance, but the red spots on the hoodie allowed her to speculate about the guest entering the room.
Panacea.
Heroine. Member of the New Wave. One of the most famous capes on the planet, best Cape Medic in existence. Brockton Bay Wonder. Honorary citizen and many other titles. Description straight from ParaWiki, where Taylor could hang for hours, studying all available information about the capes.
And now this girl was in front of her. A heroine, a celebrity, the hope of the entire globe, she embodied everything that Taylor were deprived of. Confession, family, friends, being in the company of other people...
Madison.
Taylor felt a wave of seizures running through her body.
Madison. Madison. Madison.
It was as if she'd seen Panacea dropping her hood under Clements' face. It... was so real that... that she almost believed it.
"No! Bullshit, nonsense! Panacea is not Emma! She is a hero!" The voice of her mind was trying to calm the rebellious heart and emotions that were now dominating her. But this voice was too quiet for this boiling mixture of fear and painful memories, and therefore remained unheard.
Meanwhile, the Cape Medic, noticing that the patient came to her senses, carefully, without making any sudden movements, approached Taylor from the side of her sighted eye and leaned over to get a better look at Ebert.
Taylor, however, was on the line between unconsciousness and catatonic horror, which seemed to paralyze every cell of her mortal body. White color and red crosses... Symbols of peace and help - they did not seem to her like such. For her, they were signs of danger. Danger and fear. That's how she perceived it, that's how she felt, even though the voice of her mind told her that it is stupid to be afraid of it.
"Miss Ebert, can you hear me?"- finally asked Panacea to finish her superficial analysis.
She couldn't do much without direct contact with the patient's skin, but her personal moral code didn't allow her to heal strangers without permission. However, Mr. Chambers said something like that when she first met him and discussed her heroic career. In any case, she was observant enough to notice most obvious things about her patients. Mortician... or whatever her cape alias were was once again in a pre-exposure state, so Panacea was somewhat unsure that she fully understood her condition.
"Y-yes..." Taylor squeezed out, spending a lot more energy than she might have thought. There was an incredible dryness in her throat and a state of panic, which she managed to crush for a moment with a titanic effort of will, so that it would triple back in the next moment.
Panacea let herself have a weak, invisible smile under her scarf. Everything was a little easier for her. She couldn't, she didn't want to work with her brain, and that's why she was all the more nervous about her not being aware of her patient's reality.
"Can I heal you?" She reached out and prepared to touch Hebert's hand. Of course, she had already had two sessions with her, the first at St. Brutus, and the second on arrival at Central Brockton, but both times the situation required her intervention to save her life. Now ... it was a matter of formality.
Healing.
Healing.
Healing.
It was as if these words had crashed into her skull, burnt on the bones of her skull box. Panacea offered her healing. Health, a normal life. Opportunities. But...
"I..."
...but inside her, it's like someone pulled an emergency brake. It was as if she'd stumbled upon an invisible wall that she couldn't get around. The words she wanted to say, the consent she were supposed to give, all of it... wiped, stopped by a force that Taylor had never felt before.
It was... She couldn't describe that feeling. It wasn't a barrier or a border. But... It was like... It was like... It was like... The association inside it was falling apart at an empty end.
"No... I'm sorry..." whispered to Taylor, feeling tears coming out of her eyes and shaking with fear.
Panacea's hand stopped a few millimetres away from her skin.
"What?" Panacea asked, hadn't fully grasped the meaning of what Taylor had just said.
"N-no... Don't touch me... Please..." the girl wheezed, snapping at the whispering.
"But what about... treatment?" Panacea tried to change her patients opinion.
"I... I can handle it. Please, don't touch me!"
Panacea looked at Hebert again. And she was amazed. In the girl's eyes she saw pure and clear horror and despair. And that fear was directed at her. More precisely, not her, but what she could have done. That she could have touched her, helped her. She had seen a lot of things, but that was the first time she had ever seen anything like it.
"Alright. I won't do anything" Panacea's voice was traitorous, but she managed to cope with herself. She slowly, so that Ebert could follow the movements of her hands, took them away from her and took a few steps back.
"I will warn the doctors to prepare a course of treatment... " Panacea did not have time to finish the sentence before she were interrupted by Hebert.
"No!" that's all Taylor was able to squeeze out of herself, afraid to meet... people.
Panacea... She was afraid of her. She could confess to herself. But she could control her fear. Not for long, but enough to create at least some appearance... of a normal conversation. But as soon as she heard about the fact that she would have to meet a lot of people, she protested inside. Something she didn't want to touch and disturb. Something painful.
"But then you won't get well..." Panacea decided to try to bring common sense to discussion.
To be cured.
To be healed.
Healing.
She needs to be healed.
And the [Sea] stirred up...
Child, Thou Wish For Healing?
A voice. She heard a voice again. But this time the voice she heard was different. It belonged to a woman. This Voice... It was as if he was enveloping her mind with warmth, just by his sounding like a mother's hug that closed on her mind. They closed to open up when the voice stopped sounding.
Taylor wanted to scream. This brief moment, these words - they seemed to give her something back for a second... long forgotten and lost. Something she wanted to feel again.
But the voice of her mind made her think of the words she had said in the Voice.
She didn't know if she was crazy or if she saw it. But the voice was quite obvious. She also felt... Presence.
It was as if someone behind the door had gently knocked on it, indicating a desire to enter.
Not a desire - an opportunity, an offer?
She wished for Healing. She wanted to get rid of the pain, make it disappear, evaporate, returning at least a part of it to her, the part that had not been lost on... that day.
Yes. She wished for Healing.
And that's why she [Opened] the door. And at that very moment, her lips were whispering almost silently:
"[Persona]"
And the room flooded with bright light.
Daughter Firstborn of Geb Am I. Mother of the Sun, Ruler of Heaven.
Panacea, blinded by a flash of light, shuddered by the first sounds of this voice. But she was not the only one who felt the power coming from these words. Even the operators behind the security cameras installed in the room were blinded. The golden light became a little less bright and began to form a figure in the middle of the room.
My tear shall drop and Nile will spill.
It was still impossible to distinguish between the shapes and features of the face, but there was someone in the middle of the room. It was two meters tall.
Panacea found the strength to hold down the panic button, causing a rapid reaction squad in the next room.
The Bird Of Hath Am I.
The detachment did not keep itself waiting. No sooner had Persona's words been heard than the room door opened again, giving precious seconds before a squad of operatives with foam sprayers and stunners had to break into the room.
So Know My Name...
The door opened completely, but Taylor, who was in a state between shock and stupor, looked at the way soldiers supposed to rush in without any involvement of her mind, froze as if they were enchanted, looking at the woman standing in the middle of the room. Loose white clothes with intricate patterns on the edging fell to the floor, framing a majestic figure, as if made of lively marble - her skin was so perfectly smooth. Behind her was a majestically spread pair of falconry wings, and on her anthracite black hair was a headdress in the form of bull's horns, between which was squeezed sun disk, radiating real sunlight.
Isis.
The lights went out, but all the people present stayed in their places as if they were fascinated. Only Isis looked at Taylor with a half-smile on her lips, who was also looking at the... Goddess.
Otherwise, she couldn't name the one that was standing in front of her. Perfect. That was the only description Taylor could have picked up for her, and that was only the faintest of shadows that could cast away the beauty of this celestial woman.
The goddess moved away, paying no attention to the people around her, except Taylor herself. She even moved majestically, as if by every step she was asserting her right to bear her titles.
"You called me, poor child. And I responded. You were looking for healing, child..."
When Isis approached Taylor's bed, she leaned down gracefully and whispering something kissed the girl on her forehead.
At the very moment when the lips of the goddess touched her, Taylor felt like a wave of energy was rolling over her body, instantly flushing away pain and fatigue, filling her muscles with energy and strength.
Pain... just disappeared.
But the most important thing is that together with the kiss, everything... all those fears that were in her head now, devoured her from within - all of them instantly gone, leaving her mind crystal clear. She knew it wasn't forever, that they would come back, but she didn't want to think about it now.
She was just feeling goo...
At that very moment, her head exploded with pain. Unpleasant, pulsating. And this time, she knew what and who was the reason.
Taylor looked at Isis. She smiled gently at her before she leaned up and turned away, looking at the paralyzed PRT operatives.
There is no need to expose the blades, Defenders of Maat . Neither I nor this child wanted to hurt you.
After that, she turned again to Taylor and Panacea, who were still standing by the bed, afraid to move.
I have to go. I am afraid that the Child is still not strong enough to call me in my full power. But before that...
Isis has shone again. But this time her light was not blinding or bright. It was as if she was caressing, giving strength and noting fatigue, making old scars overgrown and everyone's heart beating with new strength.
And it wasn't just Taylor who felt that way. Panacea, the PRT team, the entire west wing of Brockton Bay Central Hospital, and even a few random passers-by, they all felt the power of this light.
That was the power of the healing given by Isis.
And the next moment, the mother goddess smiled before vanishing. Without sound and added effects. Just disappeared. But Taylor felt that someone had gone through the [Gate] and returned... Whatever it was. But before that, Taylor had heard a quiet but very serious phrase:
Beware the First of Fallen. His deeds always lead to his benefits
And so she disappeared, leaving her, Taylor Hebert, alone with confused PRT strike squad and stunned Panacea. So it seemed to her, at least for a second, before the headache, avalanche-like amplified in pitiful moments, carried her mind in the arms of Morpheus.
Again.
Looking at his hand, where a minute ago there was a scar from the teeth of the neighbor's dog, Lieutenant Jenkins sadly said the phrase he hated now.
- We need to report to the Center...
The disjointed humming of the voices was his answer.
They were all waiting for a fascinating epic with three days of quarantine under the M/S protocols