She tracked the two mercenaries through the oversized rifle's scope, bloodsight letting her watch through all the containers. The weapon was not to her liking, despite how destructive it could be. The holes it made in things were satisfying, but it was too sudden. Too impersonal. There was some gruesome interest in seeing what it could do to a person's head but that was overshadowed by how boring fighting at such a distance was.

Whatever, she'd get rid of it after this. As much as it rankled, they just needed to get the case without a big brawl. The others shouted and argued, but Quarrel put her foot down this time. She would have had minions tearing up the whole place for it instead, if that wouldn't have also attracted trouble. No, Uppercrust had the right idea to smuggle this stuff in quietly. Too bad for him, he didn't know about the rats in his own house.

The two were in one of the containers now. She signaled Animos and the others to come out of hiding. Hiding like rats, this wasn't how The Teeth did things. No, shut up, we do what we have to. After this, The Teeth will hide from no one.

Quarrel grit her teeth, a low growl rising from the back of her throat, and ordered them to be quiet. She chambered a round, as thick as her forearm and longer than her hand from wrist to fingertips. One of the mercenaries was handling something, likely the package.

She aimed for center mass. It'd be a shame that she wouldn't be able to see the splatter. She felt the recoil despite all her strength. At this range, her power didn't even bother bending the bullet's path around obstacles, letting it punch through everything in its way and only keeping the trajectory straight. She closed her eyes, imagining how the bullet would enter her target's chest, shattering the ribcage and liquifying tissue to leave a wonderful mess behind. It was the only satisfaction she could get with a kill like this.

Except when she looked back through the scope, that was not what had happened at all. The others roared and laughed and cheered and mocked. She snarled in anger. This was her ability, not a loan from the others. How had her own power failed her? The mercenary was bleeding, but she was not dead. Both of them had taken cover. Quarrel contemplated shooting again but there was too much risk she'd hit the briefcase through one of them.

"Animos, missed. Flush them out," she spoke into the radio. Thankfully for him, he didn't question how she missed, simply striding forward to carry out her orders.

She kept watch as the two slowly walked out, stopping halfway between Animos and the container. She shuffled, peeking out of cover to use her normal sight. Neither of them had the case. Animos was talking, likely demanding The Teeth's prize. The mercenaries didn't seem scared, and he was getting angry. Quarrel wasn't far behind in that. The standoff continued as minutes ticked by.

She should kill them now and be done with it, scatter their brains on the pavement. Screw that, get down there and do it nice, close and personal. No, they still need the case. They've stashed it somewhere. She can make them squeal. Butcher stood, throwing the rifle aside. Now that sounded like a proper plan.

Footsteps pounded behind her, accompanied by the rush of grains against metal. She didn't need her danger sense to sidestep the charge and let the parahuman – a third mercenary? – launch herself off the vantage point.

However, it came as a surprise when the one-armed teen instead turned around at the last moment, slinging her arm around Butcher's neck and using her momentum to threaten throwing both of them off the ledge. The sand – ash? – wrapped itself around her ankles and yanked, the sudden loss of balance bringing her down along with the girl.

They landed with a heavy crash. Somewhere nearby, where Animos was with the other two mercenaries, the sound of something collapsing could be heard, followed by the cries of her minions.

They grappled briefly on the ground. Her opponent was good, and the ash was annoying to deal with, but Butcher was better. She swatted aside a tendril that tried going for her eyes, grabbing the teen by her arm. Standing up, she threw the mercenary with force, sending her through one of the containers. The whole stack collapsed on top of her.

Butcher switched to bloodsight, but the enemy cape was truly invisible to that sense. She switched back, preparing to teleport away towards where Animos was fighting the other two. Her shot earlier had evidently hit the girl instead, but she couldn't understand why her power hadn't kept the bullet on track after.

Ash exploded out of the wreckage, metal groaning as it was pushed aside, and the cape emerged unscathed. More flowed in a torrent out of the merc's body, only to suddenly stop and then restart, though it was reduced to a trickle. A ramping up Shaker. She needed to end this quickly.

Hitting her with a wave of pain didn't cause so much as a twitch. She teleported away from the raging storm of ash as more streams reached for her, onto another stack of containers nearby. There was enough time to sling the bow off her back and string it before she had to teleport away again. Metal was fashioned into arrows on her next stop, a shot aimed and loosed at her enemy's head.

She watched her power guide the projectile through the mayhem down below, but instead of striking the head like she wished, it curved along some other invisible path, separate from that carved by her power. In the end, it sank a couple inches into her opponent's intact shoulder.

She tried again, teleporting to a new vantage point and loosing three more shots, only for them also to veer off course as they approached the Shaker. The one that landed didn't cause any noticeable damage, nor did the wound fester. She had to teleport away again to avoid the ash's clutches. This game of cat and mouse could not go on for long.

On her next landing she shot twice more, this time giving no target to her power, instead relying on her own skill with the bow and waiting patiently for the right timing. One arrow was knocked off the air by a stray tendril of ash, but the other flew true, too fast for the girl to react. It sank into where her left eye should have been, behind that blank mask. The shaft broke off in the impact, leaving the sharp metal lodged in.

The cape did not fall over dead, but she did panic and flail around for a moment. Butcher didn't waste the opportunity, teleporting right in front of her opponent and grabbing her by the neck. She punched and kicked in Butcher's grip, scratching at her fingers as they dug into her throat, but it was futile.

In a flash of flame, she reappeared near Animos and the other mercenaries, with her captive in tow. A deep pit took up about a fourth of the clearing and her minions were nowhere to be seen. A forest of stone pillars filled much of the remaining space.

"Animos, scream," she commanded. He seemed to hesitate for a split second, before carrying out The Butcher's will. He transformed, letting out a piercing screech. His power washed over the whole area but didn't touch her.

With a ripple, the pillars disappeared and the pit filled in, except for a layer of missing concrete at the very top. The flow of ash stopped for good, though the merc kept struggling. She gripped harder in response and the teen clutched Butcher's bicep. The desperation was like a drug for all fourteen of them.

"Put her down, Butcher."

She tilted her head, looking at the woman wearing all the riot gear. Faultline, a mercenary from Brockton Bay, The Teeth's hometown. So, that's who Uppercrust hired. She looked back at her captive. This one was new, then. Quarrel hadn't heard of a new parahuman in the Bay, but that was just an issue of being so far away from home. She gripped harder still.

"You can't force my hand. I'm here for one thing. Give me the case."

"We both know you'll kill us anyway," Faultline said with a chuckle, "You can have the location, when we're far away from here."

Cute. The mercenary boss, trying to haggle. Or, more likely, stalling for time until the rest of her crew could arrive. The others laughed and screamed. As if more ants would change anything. A pyrokinetic and two monster capes. Butcher and Animos were more than enough to handle them.

"You got one thing right. None of you leave alive."

If only this hadn't become such a mess. At least, the mercs' deaths would buy them a few hours. The longer it took for Uppercrust to learn that The Teeth had his package, the longer they'd have to use what was inside. Once the news got out, The Elite would be going to war. Not that it'd matter at that point.

She brought her captive closer, looking into that featureless face. From so close, she could tell it wasn't a real mask. The cape really had no face. How odd.

"Maybe this one knows."

She used her power again to inflict pain, but on her captive's teammates instead. They collapsed with a strangled gasp and a grunt. It was the kind of pain that drove all air from your lungs and left you a twitching mess on the ground. The Butchers knew it well; A lot of them had first-hand experience with it.

The lack of expression on her captive's face was annoying. Butcher's fingers broke the false skin, digging into the not-flesh of the mercenary's neck, until they reached something that felt like crystal, and could go no further. There was no blood, but at least the cape seemed to finally feel pain.

"How long do you think it'll be, before their hearts stop?" she pondered, letting the two breathe for a second before submerging them in a sea of agony again. The one in her grip struggled even more. The others basked in the anguish, but Quarrel tried to stay focused, ignoring the immense satisfaction they radiated.

"What will it-"

She was cut off by a searing heat, the previously cold crystal in her grasp now slowly burning away her fingertips. Her danger sense screamed, and Butcher tried to throw the cape off, but to no avail. Her hand felt trapped, skin melting off and adhering to the scalding ash.

A bright flash of light scorched her retinas, while a loud bang caused her eardrums to burst. She tried to teleport away but instead she merely flickered in place, the loss of sight and balance proving to be too much. Sight returned first, as her minor healing factor prioritized her eyes.

The girl still clung to Butcher's bicep. Her arm was now atrophied, almost skeletal, taking on a grey hue similar to her mask. In place of her fingers were five vicious, crystalline talons, chipped and cracked but effortlessly sinking into Butcher's arm all the same. Through the welling blood, she could see a faint blue glow surrounding the jagged edges.

Butcher forcefully wrenched her hand away from the girl's throat, leaving behind some skin and muscle, but the other cape didn't let go. On the contrary, she sunk her talons in further, parting flesh like butter. The other two, still powerless, were recovering from the earlier torture, while Animos transformed once again.

Her ears popped as they finished healing, sound returning to the world and the feeling of vertigo finally subsiding. Just in time to hear the girl speak.

"Payback, you fucking bitch."

The talons cleaved through the rest of the arm in a split moment, giving Quarrel no time to follow her danger sense and get away. The severed limb dropped to the ground with a wet thud. She tried to follow up with a kick aimed at Butcher's throat, but it was far too slow. Butcher trapped the leg under her right arm – being careful not to let the talons on the girl's withered foot touch her remaining upper limb – and twisted, throwing her enemy back several yards. The container wall she collided with dented on impact, but she got back up quickly.

Butcher took a step back, looking at her stump. The end was charred, and her healing factor had mostly stopped the bleeding. She wouldn't be able to use her bow like this, but she could keep fighting. It wasn't just about the briefcase anymore.

"Deal with them. The girl is mine," she ordered, the fury of all fourteen minds lacing Butcher's voice.


Taylor was tired, almost as much as those first few days at the hospital. Still, she stood tall next to Faultline and Labyrinth, refusing to let her emaciated legs tremble. She still couldn't make any new ash, which meant her two teammates were also powerless for now. They needed time. Time for their powers to return and for their backup to arrive.

She rubbed her neck using just her palm, trying to be careful with the talons. Butcher's grip hadn't hurt at first, barely even getting in the way of her – unnecessary – breathing. But it was entirely different when the villain had dug into the 'flesh' and touched whatever was buried within. The pain had been odd, distant, though no less distressing. In fact, it almost felt like an imitation. As if something else was feeding her a sensation she already knew, to convey a message she couldn't understand otherwise.

Yet that paled in comparison to the trip the next few seconds had been. The feeling of mass transforming to energy and back again. Tiny, imperceptible things but not things, rearranging themselves just so to change the whole into something different. The knowledge that if she nudged them in this or that way, the very properties of the physical world could be changed at will. Weirdly, that last feeling almost seemed to carry a sense of unintentionality with it, like when someone has a thought but accidentally says it out loud.

Taylor looked at her new talons. The crystal was mostly clear, with a strange prismatic pattern within. A faint blue glow surrounded the edges, reminding her of something she'd seen on TV, though she couldn't quite recall. Beyond just the chips and cracks that ran through them, they felt fundamentally flawed for some reason, or perhaps incomplete.

"How are you holding up?" Faultline whispered to her.

She almost stumbled in place as a fresh wave of exhaustion hit her. Faultline leaned in closer, supporting her as well as she could, without making it obvious to the two villains that their currently strongest combatant needed it.

"I have...maybe another five minutes...left in me. You?" Taylor asked back, addressing both her boss and Labyrinth.

"We've both felt worse, don't worry about that. We need to try getting out of this clearing. Without her bow, we'll have a better chance of getting away from Butcher if we're not out in the open. Lead them back through the container, and they'll have to split up to keep up the chase. Labyrinth, make an early exit, while the two of us cover. Wait for us on the other side."

Taylor gave a slight nod to acknowledge the plan. Her boss backed away, closer to their new objective, and she once more had to support her own weight.

Just in time too, as Animos pounced straight towards her in reaction to Labyrinth retreating. Except, instead of attacking Pyroclast, he swerved past her to leap onto Faultline. Taylor saw her duck under the creature but had to return her focus back to Butcher, as the villain teleported right in front of her, coming out swinging for her neck with a machete made of concrete.

There was no time to dodge, so she put her faith in her talons and used them to block. Unexpectedly, Butcher's weapon was cut in half as it met her own, sparks flying as the concrete partially melted around the cuts. Butcher wasn't fazed by the loss of her weapon, shattering the now useless handle over Taylor's head and leaping back to pull a new one out of the ground.

Taylor took the opportunity to retreat further back towards the open container. She chanced a glance at Faultline's fight. Both she and Animos were limping, with the mercenary carrying a bloodied baton and the villain taking shallow, painful-looking breaths.

Butcher demanded her full attention the next second, as she dashed towards her with a new weapon in hand. The pattern seemed to repeat itself, with the villain aiming for the same spot and Taylor raising her talons to block the strike, only for Butcher to disappear. She heard the blazing explosion behind her, felt the rush of air as a small shockwave passed over her, but was entirely too slow to react to the blade suddenly being driven through the back of her neck.

It went in off-center, scraping against the hard material that made up her body. Butcher pushed all the way through using her superhuman strength, until the blade got stuck and shattered in her grip, leaving behind a small fragment still lodged inside.

Taylor lost her footing, both due to the force of Butcher's strike and because of the sudden spike of pain that momentarily overwhelmed her. The worst of it subsided quickly, but it remained as a persistent reminder that some kind of damage had been done. Thankfully, the odd impression she got felt as if whatever vital structure or 'organ' was nestled there, had taken only a glancing blow.

Making a half-turn, she swung behind her, but Butcher was already gone. It seemed the gang leader didn't want to take any chances of losing another limb. Taylor took the opportunity to judge the distance between herself, Faultline and the container. Her boss was slightly closer, with Animos having disengaged again and standing off to the side, still in his Changer form.

But they were both near enough now to make a run for it. Faultline looked at her, making a slight gesture with her head, then retreating towards the open doors. Taylor followed almost immediately, ducking under Butcher's chasing slice and letting her arm soak the hit when the psychotic woman threw the blade after her.

Animos didn't bother chasing them inside, probably knowing he wouldn't fit in the cramped container while transformed and choosing to go around instead. Meanwhile, Butcher charged on. As soon as Taylor was through the opening, Faultline kicked at a metal bar on the edge of the container wall with as much strength as she could muster. Something that she'd cut, before all this mess, gave way and the whole stack let out an eerie groan.

"Move!"

Taylor didn't question it, running after Faultline and Labyrinth. Behind them, the entire stack suddenly came down, with Butcher presumably still inside the bottom container. It was oddly beautiful to watch, in some sort of destructive sense.

With the immediate danger gone, she thought they could make a detour for what they came here for in the first place.

"Faultline, the ca-"

"Forget the case for now. Just keep running!" Faultline cut her off. A scrape somewhere behind them revealed why. They weren't out of the woods yet

So, they ran, backtracking their way into this place, all the while the sounds of a creature in pursuit grew louder and louder. Further off in the distance, she could hear faint explosions. Butcher was looking for them, likely teleporting from vantage point to vantage point and trying to spot them in the sea of metal with her bloodsight.

As they got closer to the edges of the terminal, she could start to hear sirens. Not those that echoed far from other parts of the city. These sounded close. Faultline's phone rang, and she picked it up without breaking her somewhat unsteady stride.

"Gregor, a bit busy right now. Where are you?"

They turned right as they came upon a chain link fence. A beast's howl had Taylor glancing backwards. She couldn't see him, but in this straight stretch, Animos was bound to catch up to them eventually and Butcher wouldn't be far behind.

"We're heading towards it. Meet us halfway. Depowered. Animos and Butcher, no goons. She buried them alive."

With that short exchange, Faultline hung up, stashing the phone back under her armor.

Scattered shouts of dockworkers had joined in with the approaching police sirens. The sounds mixed and warped in Taylor's head, producing a mind-numbing cacophony. She slowed down ever so slightly; vision starting to swim and flicker. She grabbed the fence for support, accidentally cutting through some of the links. The exhaustion mounted up, reaching heights she hadn't thought possible for anyone to feel. A startling realization broke through the fog.

This was her breaking point. She could go no further.

In the next instant, she felt an arm grabbing her tight. Her own emaciated limb was draped across someone's shoulder, while someone else propped her up on the other side, and little by little they hobbled together forward, the other person basically dragging her along.

"Come on. Just a little bit further."

Through a great force of will, she found the strength to at least put one foot ahead of the other. A bang, a rush of air and a creature's growling behind them put a stop to their progress. The person whose shoulder she was partially draped on let go, turning to face whatever that was. Taylor slowly turned too, briefly meeting their pursuer's eyes, filled with loathing and contempt as they were.

More shouts followed. Different and familiar. The wailing of the sirens continued, louder than ever. Flames, thick and sticky, washed the space between them and the pursuers. The beast's transformation receded. Someone else took the task of half-carrying her, practically dragging her away while the rest followed with wary steps.

Taylor let them, having no energy to do pretty much anything. Those eyes still stared straight at her through the flames, promising more. More pain. More fighting. More violence. A promise she wouldn't escape no matter how far she ran. It was the last thing she saw before going fully under.