Sophia Hess
Sophia didn't understand how this could have happened. How could it all end so stupidly? Here she is, winged by the opening prospects, in a hurry on the roofs in the direction from where you can hear metal gnashing and people. Her destination was set. Her determination was strong. In her thoughts, she already sees the Hookwolf and other Empire grunts, tied up and lying under her feet. That would be dreams come true of course. She tended to be realistic about her own powers, but if she cannot capture - then she can find out how to. Unwritten rules still applied – Sophia was not suicidal, but there is plenty of things that PRT would really like to know about those damn Nazis. That was her out-of-jail card.
By the time she reached the scene, the skirmish was already over. Hess looked up from the roof and assessed the situation in the alley underneath it. A dozen Asians with different degrees of stab wounds were scattered in different positions on asphalt. Nothing fatal, they will live until emergency services arrive. In any case, she could not afford to call the medics - it was vital for her to keep the radio silence. Not that she had any desire to do that. So let the fucking Asians take care of themselves. She had to start pursuing her real goal.
Hookwolf had to be here. He could not go far; at least his werewolf's form was very easy to see, so she assumed he was still moving on his two.
At this very moment, an incident happened. Various obstacles, unlucky coincidences. Chain of variables, bad luck. Unenviable Fate. There was a snowfall yesterday. Nothing serious, but the roof was slippery. Sophia tripped, lost her balance and fell off the roof. Instinctively she entered her Breaker state, but it was too late. Her Tinkertech lenses, which was supposed to detect the wiring lines, she disabled them, fearing about possible tracker implanted in them. Only when her fall was inevitable, Stalker noticed badly damaged electrical shield, which was sparkling right now.
The next thing she felt was a pain. An electric shock sparkled with a white lightning bolt and struck the shadow that Sophia was, instantly throwing her out of her breaker state at a height of a few meters above the ground. The shock of the current was enough for Sophia to paralyze her, even though her suit was specifically designed to resist electrical damage. Unable to tuck she fell hard.
She hit her head on the gentle aluminum lid of the trash can with a deaf knocking before finally reaching the asphalt.
There was a nasty crunch. Sophia, barely conscious, had time to catch a picture of her own leg bent at an obviously wrong angle before a late pain flash finally sent her to oblivion.
However, she did not realize that her fall did not go unnoticed. On the other side of the street, right across from the alley where the massacre was taking place, new security camera was recording online, simultaneously broadcasting everything to a remote server.
Sophia literally woke up a sleeping Dragon. At least if "passive self-correcting internal program check-up" could be defined as a "sleeping".
Stalker did not know about that. And she wouldn't even know. However, the next thing she saw was Armsmaster's armored figure and her own hands tied by electric handcuffs.
Through the hellish pain in her whole body, exactly one single thought made its way into her mind.
She lost.
-Linebreak-
Taylor Hebert
She felt nothing. No words, no thoughts, no ideas. The gaping void in her head filled with the grim darkness of fear and anxiety. Fear and anxiety found confirmation by the Devil himself.
Dawnbringer... Lucifer, he showed everything. By the maneuver of his hand in front of them as if a screen appeared showing everything that had happened while she was out cold. Protectorate, Panacea, people, briefings, Emma, Sophia. Every step they made every word. Everything.
She... she felt… pleasant when she heard her bones crumbling. Did she feel... satisfied? She saw how quickly the Armsmaster arrived to grab her and take her to the Protectorate base...
Hess.
Emma. Madison. Sofia. Winslow.
Hess.
Sophia Hess.
Shadow Stalker.
She saw her face. Sophia took off her mask when she thought no one could see. She recognized her.
She realized who she was. She realized which group she belonged to.
Sophia Hess was a hero.
Emma. Madison. Sophia. Winslow. Protectorate.
She wasn't shocked. No. She was definitely not able to experience any emotion. No. It was something else. She literally felt that the last strings of what connected her with her previous life were brutally severed.
When they took her friends away from her - she was lonely.
When they took away her house - she was homesick.
When they took away her health - she was in pain.
When they took her father away from her - she mourned.
When they took her life - she died.
When they took herself away from her - she changed.
Now they took away her dream.
And she really has nothing to lose.
Something inside her had changed. Irreversible and forever. Fear mixed with the pain of loss, the splinters of her dreams and ideals' air castle, emptiness created by hatred... All this mixed up.
Out of this mixture anger was born.
As if the hot poison had spread through her veins, throwing her body into the heat, making her heart beat faster, saturating her blood with oxygen, literally making her live.
They took everything and demanded more.
She slowly turned her head toward Yamada. The woman who was sitting in front of her was pale. Even the praised self-control couldn't contain her excitement. Her fear.
"All this time... you knew. Knew who she was... What kind of person she is..." - words... seemed inanimate. Dry. Not even a thousandth of the hatred she felt for Hess.
"Look. Calm down. We didn't know about…"
She didn't want to listen. She knew what they would say. Every lie, every truth, every verity. Helel showed more than she could see with her eyes. More than she would have liked. She didn't want to hear, and the powers inside her obeyed her desire. In the room, it was as if they had turned off the sound. Yamada continued to speak without hearing her own voice...
"You knew enough. Enough to prevent all this from happening!" - she screamed into this silence. –"You knew... and you let it all happen. Father... He died because of your mistake!"
She didn't notice how she got out of bed. The tiled floor was cold. But she didn't care. She came to the window to look out of there.
The gloomy winter sky did not please her eyes. Everything seemed gray and colorless to her. Cars, buildings, houses, people. Everything seemed unimportant to her. She wanted to leave, to be alone, so that no one would hurt her, giving her even a little peace.
She looked back.
Helel was gone. She didn't notice the moment when he disappeared when he came back from where he came from. Yamada... The woman was watching her closely. She was still scared, she still couldn't hear the sounds of her own voice. But she looked at her, right in the eyes. And it scared her even more.
"He died because of you. Because of your desire to leave that bitch on the "Hero Side". But..."
She lost her temper. Dad... He wouldn't want her to take revenge. He was always an opponent of a forceful solution to the problem. He never raised his hand, never found strength to do anything cruel...
"Memory... The only thing that remained. It's everything I have right now because of you. That's why I leave. Because of memories. Because of someone, who believed in good deeds."
Bold words. Filled with cheap pathos. Clichéd as hell. But they just feel… right at the very moment. She... she was furious. Moreover, at the same time... she was afraid. Even more than before.
Honestly, she did not want to leave. She wanted to escape. They would not let her out so easily.
Her fear, her anger, her rage... They felt her emotions. [Sea] responded. On the periphery of the mind, on the very edge between the conscious and unconscious, they spoke. Volcanic eruptions, bubbling magma, howling ash. Buzzling sound of billions of flies. Rattling of Countless Battle cries on a never-ending war. They talked, whispered, shouted. Fire and destruction, withering and rotting, strife and agony... All this was in her power, was under her skin, poisoned her soul, pledge her power, called into the abyss.
It... It was so easy to give up. It was too easy for her to contain herself.
Nevertheless, while she was furious, she was afraid. Too many foes and no allies. She could declare war, command a massacre. However, she desired protection. Feel safe.
There was one. Presence. One that vowed to protect.
[Persona]
The smell of ozone, the quiet crackling of static discharges running on white and black skin. He breathes in unfamiliar air with a sniffle, moving the vibrices. He is far from home. Eons apart from it. His times long since have passed; times of gods and demons, of heroes and monsters. He came into oblivion when the Great Empire fell. Empire that he was sworn to protect. Only the pale echo remains.
His paws easily draw furrows in the tile, because what can a simple material mortal against the claws that ripped any armor and flesh for thousands of years.
He can smell the fear of the woman in this room. He can smell the warriors who have frozen in strange combat orders outside the walls. He will not allow it. The Guardian of the West never let enemies pass through while he is standing.
His fur is surprisingly soft and barely sparkling. Four-meter long tiger, solid two meters at the withers, he could hardly fit into the room, immediately taking up all the space available. He bowed his head in front of her, as if recognizing her superiority, and she scratched him behind his ear.
She looked at Yamada with guilt. She was... probably sorry for her. It wasn't her fault what happened. But the Protectorate was one to blame.
"I'm sorry... but I've got to go," she said, and with those words, she climbed into the neck of a giant predator. It wasn't anger inside her anymore...
She didn't know how to describe it. It was probably fatigue... So strong that she was interrupting all other emotions and fears. She just wanted to leave.
A mental effort - and a mighty paw rips apart a metal ceramics, like a hot knife - butter. But the aisle is still small, so the beast hits a backhand, just knocking out the rest of the door somewhere into the corridor. She can hear someone's bones crunching.
They come out, leaving Yamada unable to move out of place behind. In the corridor, they are greeted by the shine of the blued steel of numerous rifles and foam sprayers.
"Stand still..." the senior officer tries to shout, but the beast won't let him finish. At one point, the little sparks dancing on his fur come together and hit the soldier with a dazzling lightning bolt. He falls to the floor, squirming with pain in numerous burns. The molten rifle burns his hands.
This serves as an attack signal.
Gun fires. Foam sprayed. Beast roared.
She closes her eyes. Too bright. Too scary. Shouts and shots, sounds of blows and lightning strikes. With her whole body pressed against his hide, she hopes she'll be all right. She feels the powerful muscles rolling under its warm skin.
It only lasts a dozen seconds before the rumble stops. A couple of seconds later, she finds the strength to open her eyes.
Scarlet.
This is the first thing she sees. The hospital walls, previously clean and purely white, are now painted in red. Covered by blood. Human blood.
And bodies... bodies everywhere. More than two dozen people. People who just wouldn't let her go. She didn't want to cause this harm. Not at all. But she was ready to do it if it was worth it. And now... now she thinks it's an acceptable price to pay. A price for freedom.
With a sixth sense, she realizes that the Guardian of the West was merciful, and none of the guards have died yet. Wounds, scary and bloody, lightning burned or frozen in ice, should save them. Apparently, this is the mercy of the Defender to those who follow the same duty as him.
They begin to move. The powerful body moves almost silently, with all possible grace of the predator. She does not know where to go, but only relies on the instincts of the beast. After a while they find a ladder leading down. The beast growls quietly, warning her of the danger. She falls to his skin again, hoping to protect herself from possible har,.
They're waiting for her. More of them. Without words, only tranquilizers and foam.
Having received a stream of foam in the face, the beast snorts, and then in one movement disintegrates it with a couple of darts fired, preventing those to reach the one he protects. Lamps burst from his roar, plunging all the surroundings into darkness.
Flashes and crackles of lightning again. Ozone smell in the air. People shouting. Something liquid falls on her cheek, flowing down her instantly, straight into her mouth ajar. Familiar, brackish taste.
Blood... someone else's blood. The blood that will be on her hands.
What would Danny say?
The battle is over, and now they are moving towards the exit, behind which the big world lurks.
She touches bloody cheek with her hand.
Blood... Why... Why would she...
Emma. Madison. Sofia. Winslow. Protectorate.
She remembers. Too good. Too clear. Blood. Her blood flowing out of her, the feeling of life that leaves her every second. Then, in the closet, even at that rare moment when her consciousness hadn't completely left her, she was trying to lick her own blood puddles on the floor in a fit of half-madness. Pour the precious liquid back into herself. Like a beast that has lost its humanity.
It tastes like blood again.
Salty. As then. At Winslow.
They're already outside.
The cold February air is unpleasant to cool the skin. She realizes she's going to freeze so fast. She needs to find shelter. Faster.
Bai Hu snaps at running to stop after a few seconds, snarling in pain. She feels that the animal has got a wound in her eye. But where did it come from?
The second bullet dissolves in a flash of lightning near her eyes, causing her to go blind for a few seconds. This bullet was intended only for her.
She is in pain.
Protectorate.
She feels that the [Gate], which holds back the unknown force, opens a bit. Unimaginable force fills her, overflows her, and she pours it in the only source available.
The beast growls victoriously.
Earth... Since when can she look into the third-floor window without raising her head? And the sparks... It's not sparking anymore, which are innocently dancing on the beast's fur. No.
No. Now they're real lightning bolts that wriggle like snakes and caress her.
The beast growls. He wants to know.
And she hesitates. Who is she? Taylor Hebert or someone new? Someone who was born from ashes leftover from everything that happened to Taylor?
Who is she?
What would Danny say?
What would Annette say?
She's looking at the blood on her arm again. She feels those people who are frozen on the doorstep of life and death inside the building. She can feel them approaching the point of no return. Is she ready?
Is she ready... to kill?
Emma. Madison. Sophia. Winslow. Protectorate.
What will she do better than them? If she leaves, she will do exactly the same as they do. If she attacks, she will be worse than they are. If she gives up at the very beginning, she will be nothing.
The situation without an exit. A road without a return.
But she threw this lot. And who knows, maybe her coin would stand on a rib?
She has no time to decide. Every breath, every beating of other people's hearts brings her closer to the line, beyond which there will be no choice between the parties. And she will make her bet, even if she regrets it later.
Already a familiar feeling. Familiar presence. Taylor calls for her. And Persona responds.
[Persona]
Now the wings of Isis are stretched out to the sides, and the sun sign on her head is shining. She looks at her with a smile, without noticing how powerless the senseless bullets are beating against the invisible shield.
Child, I am glad to meet you again.
She speaks without opening her lips, and her words are heard everywhere. With the edge of her eye, Taylor sees the cars being pulled out of the alleys, forming a cordon as fast as possible. She sees capes gathering on the roof of one of the buildings nearby. She feels the power bubbling inside her, preparing to break out. But she only directs it to Isis.
The sun on her head is shining brighter and brighter, preparing to be as luminous as her original. But her smile... From sad and understanding she turns into a smile of pure and sincere joy, with notes of pride. So she feels it.
You have found the strength to stay human.
Taylor doesn't need words. She knows that Isis feels all those who are on the threshold of Anubis' kingdom. She only adds strength, hoping that this will be enough.
I will fulfill thou wish by giving mortals their life back.
The sun on her head, the symbol of her unity with Ra, begins to pulsate, separating the particle of light from herself, which slowly begins to rise into the sky, accompanied by dozens or even hundreds of views. The bullets go through without causing any harm.
Finally, at an altitude of hundreds of meters, the clot hangs for a second before exploding in gold rain. Gold drops, ignoring the physics and obstacles, penetrating through the roofs and concrete, flying along the trajectories they lead only to those who need treatment most.
Even the worst wounds, guaranteed to be fatal, can heal without a trace, is only a fraction of the healing light to touch the wound. Yes, the dead will not rise up, yet Mediaran has to sacrifice efficiency at the expense of the masses, but they can pull out those who have one foot in the grave.
Isis' voice is heard in her head:
Leave, child. Let the Guardian seek shelter while I cool down your enemies' fervor.
Taylor nods. She doesn't want any more blood... Not today. Not now. Not so soon. So she gives the order, and the next moment Bai Hu disappears with her in a blinding flash, leaving Isis to soar proudly in the middle of an unexpected battlefield.
Hear Me, Protectors of Maat. I Am The Bird of Hut. I Am Isis. I Will Not Hurt You, I Am the Messenger of Peace.
By obeying the shining of her tiara sky over Brockton Bay is clearing the clouds and the sun looks out, illuminating the city with its unexpectedly warm light.
This Child Does Not Strive For Blood, Just Asking For Privacy. Leaving Me To Grant Thou Healing, She Is Sorry For the Blood That Has Already Been Shed.
With these words, the goddess came down to earth to freeze, enjoying the effect internally. People have become really fun over the past millennia.
-Linebreak-
Rebecca Costa Brown.
Thinker power, which does not allow you to forget absolutely anything, is a blessing and a curse. Keeping things in mind that would make many battle-hardened veterans bleed to death wasn't easy. She remembered the day when the Behemoth emerged. Same with Leviathan and Simurgh. She remembered Slaughterhouse Nine, Hero's Death, Ellisburg. Too many memories. Too many sorrows.
Each action always gives rise to a counteraction. Each conflict gives rise to a reciprocal force that beats a hundred times harder. Brockton Bay was such a place. The smoldering charcoal had been left without Rebecca's attention for too long, too much time there was nothing happening. The status quo there had lasted too long. Experiment, which was doomed to fail one day finally come to an end. She had a feeling.
A huge white tiger wrapped in lightning bolts, which grew from two to fifteen meters in height in a few moments, reminded her of Lung. Dragon turning battle maniac also happen to live in Brocton. But there was a difference
Lung was a cape. Not Projection like this one. A damn projection that can evaporate and disintegrate bullets with lightning strikes, also manipulating ice.
And if it was all... That… Isis. Rebecca knew Egyptian mythology. Too good for her taste. And that's why... If this projection is even a drop, a mere fraction of its mythological original...
And that Hebert left her just to have some privacy. And the list goes on.
Too many "If". Too many unknown variables. Alexandria did not like the unknown. This whole situation... All this required her personal involvement. Even if it was sanctioned by Contessa.
Once logged in, Rebecca quickly found the right mailing pattern for the Brocktonbay office.
"From: Rebecca Costa Braun
To: Brockton Bay Protectorate
Subject: Taylor Hebert
The case of Taylor Hebert, as well as the circumstances surrounding her trigger, come under the personal control of the Headquarters. Alexandria will be sent to the place together with a team of competent specialists who will be able to assess the threat of a new cape. Until then any contact with Taylor Hebert is FORBIDDEN before the circumstances are clarified. Taylor Hebert is now to be labeled as a "vigilante" until further threat evaluation."
Alexandria chewed on her lips. "Mortician"... Such a nickname was given to this girl... No. It didn't suit her. Wrong subject. New Facts revealed. A new identifier was needed.
A strange creature with coffins hovering behind her back. Isis, with her inhuman beauty.
And now a huge electric tiger...
Mythology. Gods. Demons. Monsters. Who knows what a girl can do? Maybe she can really call the same Egyptian pantheon?
Costa Brown couldn't help but smile. Not a bad nickname.
New Alias to be assigned to Taylor Hebert. "Pantheon"
Ragnrarokkr Ch1. End
_
AN: Sorry for a delay. Mother got her PC encrypted with some new ransomeware and there were no backups, so it took some time to fix things. I would like to say that Taylor is not giving up her hopes of becoming a hero. Nor the Protectorate in their plans for dealing with Taylor trigger.
Great thanks for your patience and for correcting my shameful mistakes.
P.S. About Taylor and her powers - yes, she's pretty fucking OP. She has Universe Arcana so she isn't limited by a concrete number of Personas. She could summon them all. But there's a plenty of limitations for this power.