Sophia thrashed as she was hauled onto the stretcher; screaming obscenities at the Taylors as the restraints that had been wrapped around her hummed with electrical currents. Armsmaster paid little attention to his former charge's words as he scowled right alongside of the elder of the rather mismatched sisters in the same way one might have disgustedly glared at a man who had broken into one's house and made themselves at home without permission. Oh, he had been willing to entertain her at first, and had even almost moved to arrest the Lucario before she'd offered up the Trio's phones. Her sheer cooperativeness had stayed his hand, and he had been well 'rewarded' for his patience. He'd spent several minutes scrolling through Sophia's phone with a steadily worsening attitude. Then a few minutes checking the records of the agent on station, who'd been caught in the middle of shredding documents. And then on probable cause searching the phones of the other two, finding ever more evidence.
He'd seen enough before long, and had promptly apologized to the unusual 'cape' as the paramedics arriving started to help her get her younger sister ready for transport. PRT agents were busy taking photos of the crime scene, collecting samples and evidence as he supervised the loading. Sophia's recovery had been a bit of a minor shock, but hardly outside of the norm. Emma Barnes and her accomplice, Madison, were sitting in cuffs in the corner of the hallway waiting for agents to take them downstairs.
He could ignore the Lucario in the room no longer, and turned back to her. "This does answer several longstanding questions I have had. However, you raise several more," He stated as he motioned for the waiting squad to read the girls their rights and take them to a transport for processing. "Such as how you can both be 'Taylor Hebert' as you claim. While my sensors can rule out the possibility of you being a projection, there are other possibilities."
"I'm not certain myself," Taylor answered back with a bit of grim aplomb as she watched the paramedics bring up a medical gurney for transporting her young 'sister'. She calmly took a breath as she closed her eyes to focus; then opened them with an internal flare of energy. A nice bluish-purple aura of psychic light surrounded her and lit her eyes from within as she carefully helped levitate her still unconscious and delirious younger self onto the gurney.
"I know-figuratively, at least-that I can probably blame Palkia for this fine mess," She partially answered for him as she released her grip. "But, that means nothing for you. So, I can say that you should be able to track me from the financial district in flight, and that a medical examination will show that I suffered a brain injury in my past that rendered any power I might have inoperable." She started to move her hand up to brush her forelock of fur back before realizing that it was still utterly caked with the rancid products of the Trio's trap and held off.
Armsmaster was taking notes in his head as she explained, the Lucario recognizing the distant yet intense stare into nothing on his face as the hallmark of it. He stopped, and looked down at her, asking, "Palkia?"
"I spent seventy years after what should have been my first death in another Earth," She answered, before muttering, "-I think-", and frowning as she considered it. "And he was a-well, it is a long and complicated story that deserves a proper debrief," She finished answering as she realized how easily they could be sidetracked into trying to explain the strange and wonderful world of Pokémon.
She could feel a few... tears welling in her eyes as she realized she'd never see the friends she'd made there; the memories and times that would be lost forever. The good times, the bad, the ones that had made her yank at her own aura receptors in frustration-wait. Oh, she'd been growling in frustration at remembering the Deeveeous Bandits, and had alarmed the agents and the hero looking on. "My apologies. I got... a bit lost in memories. Just old frustrations boiling up. You know, the tear your m-err, hair out issues that are behind me for better and worse now."
"I... see."
Taylor shook her head, knowing that he didn't. "I would like to schedule a few days of debrief in order to explain as best I can, and to hopefully prepare the PRT for what may come."
"That can be arranged. There are several questions about your existence as it stands," Armsmaster didn't look entirely believing of her, but even she could see the thirst for knowledge in his eyes.
Taylor awkwardly stood, needing to lean over to help push off before wobbling on her paws. "I have them myself. I have possible answers as well, but I can't ask those who I believe are responsible, because they're not in this world. And hopefully never will be," She finished with a bit of hasty worry as she mentally pleaded to Arceus.
"Are they-villainous?"
"No, they're just on a threat level surpassing the Endbringers," She glibly riposted before realizing. "But they're in another world, and generally try to keep to themselves. We would have more to worry about someone starting something with them." She shook her head and refocused, putting aside the dragons of creation for the moment. "It's unimportant for the time being. We should probably find a nice conference room to negotiate over my debrief in."
"Negotiate? You seem to consider yourself in a position of power?"
"You're free to cuff me, if you think it will help. Though, uh," Taylor held her arm up alongside her stump as she helpfully offered to put herself in Armsmaster's control. "I believe I need two wrists to be effectively cuffed. If you wish to put me in a holding cell, you're free to."
Armsmaster started looking at her like she was turning into a Hydregion. "You... want... to be arrested?"
Taylor stopped and destressed a little with a huff of breath before continuing, "No, Armsmaster. I just wish to cooperate for the purposes of gaining the things I need to do what I need to-wait," Taylor paused in the middle of trying to explain to him that she was trying to smooth things over instead of fighting as she remembered a rather pertinent point. "Actually, if I could first go to the hospital with my... well, younger self first, we should be able to prevent an issue."
She held up her hand to forestall protest. "No, no, no. Our father will need to be calmed down before he does something entirely reasonably rash," She expounded for him, looking him in the eyes as her counterpart was taken towards the exits. The old, dark moments from the first go around haunted her a little. "I can provide some information on the way, if it will help, and we may wish to temporarily commandeer one of the hospital conference rooms for some of the information."
"Daniel Franchesci Hebert? Currently employed as the hiring manager and defacto operations manager of the Dockworkers Union?" Armsmaster prompted as he focused on his HUD for more information on the man. A glancing glare spared towards Taylor garnered an affirmative from her. "Will there be trouble?"
"It would depend on how you define 'trouble.' He will want answers, and he won't like the ones he receives," Taylor admitted as she reached back down to adjust her jacket. She looked down with a bit of disgust at the stains it had received from the muck of the locker. "I should be able to talk him down if you're willing to throw your parole violator under the wai- err, bus."
Armsmaster grunted slightly.
"Another culturally contextual reference. I must apologize," She verbally placated as she realized that she'd need to spend weeks going through and helping them to understand the insanity that she'd introduce. She carefully stepped around him, gesturing to suggest that they begin walking while talking. "If it will help, Armsmaster, I can offer directly relevant information on future Endbringer attacks in the... unaltered future. Take it as a, let's call it a 'peace offering' for future cooperation and hopefully avoiding unnecessary complications."
Armsmaster's scowl twisted a little tighter. "Go on."
Taylor stopped, leaning upwards and in towards him slowly so as to not startle him. She was still smarting in her ego at how much shorter she was from her first life; it hadn't caught on for her while she was sheriff, as she was well above average for her new species. As it was, she had to stand on her absolute tippiest toes and tip her muzzle up to be able to speak to him without raising her voice for others to hear. "Late next month, Ziz will land in-"
She sighed as she realized that she'd forgotten many of the place names of Bet from sheer long-term disuse in her new world. "Sorry. My apologies, it's been a few decades. The southern-the outback continent. She'll go for the capital there. Then, in late... May, there will be a strike in this region. An infiltration of the PRT allows for someone targeted by Leviathan, a 'broken trigger.' to arrive in the area."
Armsmaster grunted, his form twitching in a way that betrayed his eyes flicking to make notes on his visor. "That isn't very detailed." His hand was held on the bumper of the stairwell door, preparing to go on.
"Temporal dislocation, I'm afraid," Taylor answered again, unhappy herself at the paucity of help she could provide. "As best as I've been able to track, I've been separated by the original timeline of events by seventy two years. Be glad that Khonsu isn't into the rotation of Endbringers yet."
"Khonsu?"
Taylor paused, realizing that she'd given away more than she had intended to. "There are... more Endbringers. 'She' could manipulate time around her, making her the new herokiller after Behemoth," Taylor elaborated for him, giving a little more away vaguely, hissing it into his ears as she tried to keep herself from getting overly annoyed at his premature prying. It was his job, he was better at it than she wanted to admit, and he had no idea what he was poking at. "I give you my word I will give as much intelligence on the shape of things to come as I can. But, for both of our sakes, we need to keep from making much of a scene. Yet."
She took a deep breath, pushing open the bent and damaged door, wincing at the way it had been bent and marked by her body. It creaked and groaned, coming open with a screech. Nobody had come through after her, instead coming through the front stairwell. She'd been trying to not damage the building more than she had to...
She was avoiding it, having taken a few moments to avoid talking to Armsmaster again. "I also need to apologize for getting upset. You're doing your job, and it just so happens to be somewhat adversarial to me at this time," Taylor clarified for him as she started down the stairwell, carefully standing in front of him, knowing he could take a strike at her so as to give him a bit of comfort. All the while, on guard enough herself to be able to jet forward to make room on a blast of aura if he actually took the strike. "Some of the information that I have is guarded by a-the-high level thinker. One who is able to kill with impunity to protect the knowledge from the public's... poor reaction. I am trying to keep this on a low enough level to avoid attracting their attention, as I need to speak with the Triumvirate on some of the critical issues that they are aware of and are currently in conflict with this thinker on." She could feel his aura shift, roiling with emotion and concern as well as a healthy dose of paranoia leaving it sour to her senses.
"I see. So, you wish to minimize exposure to a stranger-like power, and calm Mr. Hebert in order to buy time?" Armsmaster sounded fairly clearly skeptical, but willing to go along with it from behind Taylor as they continued down.
"Stranger-like... would be an effective way of describing it, yes," Taylor hesitantly began, trying to remember exactly how the transport cape of Cauldron worked. She shook her head, refocusing and keeping herself from just ignoring the things that needed to be done. Needed to be said. It'd taken a lot of work to break out of her avoidant habits. "That, and to say the things to him that I never had the strength to say to him the first time round. Make... the apologies I never could."
She rubbed at a pawprint on the wall, and it smoothed over with a slight creak as her paltry Rock-Type affinities worked to heal the concrete, making it whole again. Hmm. Yes, that worked. "It also would allow us to lend further credence to the entirely truthful yet incomplete cover story as well."
Armsmaster stepped up beside her left side, nodding to the troopers at the bottom of the stairwell as they descended down the steps. The two troopers opened the door, scraping it open as they worked to get it back into semi-working order; all three watching her with entirely justified paranoia still as she moved through first to continue to let him believe he was in a full position of power. The little measures were what would keep things from escalating... unnecessarily.
As Armsmaster moved back into a flanking position, he queried from behind her, "Said cover story being?"
"That I was launched into an alternate version of my own past by a strange power interaction, giving me the opportunity to prevent my own trigger event. Following that, I immediately got the PRT involved in order to legitimize it and prevent further confusion. And absolutely no PRT employee, affiliate, or other contractor had anything to do with it," Taylor carefully laid out, showing her thought into the matter. Her aura senses, still open to the world, could feel the tentative relief washing through him as he grappled with her suggestion. He was out for his own glory still, headstrong and full of arrogance behind the scenes. Hardly justice, but she knew how to work with that to a more just system.
Armsmaster nodded in a bit of confusion behind her. Taylor could hear his armor creaking somewhat as he turned to look down to her, servos whining a little. The hero wasn't outright denying the disturbingly agreeable offer as he spoke, "That would be acceptable, though it creates a new issue."
"It already exists, Armsmaster," Taylor immediately countered, knowing what he was referring to. She calmed her voice, speaking less harshly as she tamped down on her unnecessary sharpness, "I was made into a... well, Pokémon, permanently on my first resurrection. I simply cannot hide behind the veil of cape identity. Furthermore, I already created a direct connection to my younger self by rescuing her so publicly."
Taylor nodded discretely to some of the students trying to look without looking out of their classroom windows, all still waiting for their parents to leave in the middle of the investigation. "I don't know how many cameras were aimed at me, but there were enough. Can you get them all?"
Armsmaster was silent, making the same calculations as she was. He spoke after a few moments of quiet, awkward silence in the mildewed halls, finally speaking over the whish of the ventilation and the soft clicks of boots and claws on polished linoleum. "So long as you are aware of the potential repercussions," He finally added uneasily, directing her to take a corner in the process. "You may come to regret it."
"Oh, I already do," Taylor de sotto answered, far too cheerful on the post-event adrenaline as the morning wore on. A small part of her mind, the little kernel of Pokémon...ness she'd assimilated over decades, prompted an inappropriate giggle as she began to think of the potential challengers who'd find out the hard way. A slight nod of thought, and she leaned her head to her left for the protectorate cape. "I hope the PRT and Protectorate would be willing to overlook certain villains being handed back in pieces if they decide to come after me at home," She quietly said to him, looking up with a hardened look.
Armsmaster frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
Taylor started to raise her paw again before putting it back down, shaking her head slightly. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Not like that. Okay, somewhat like that. I'm fairly sturdy, and some level of brute. The issue is... I'm... used to a higher level of Brute than most capes. In a high-stakes, high-emotion situation I will run the risk of instinctively putting enough into it to make Tamato Sauce out of problem people in the event of them putting me in a situation where I have to rapidly respond."
She could feel both of the veteran cape's eyebrows raising behind her, mostly in his aura. Followed, after a few moments by his disapproving frown and furrowed brow as she felt his will hardening. However, before he could voice his disapproval, they had begun to pass the administrative offices of the school. A great commotion began from within, and the pair stopped as the soon to be former Principle, Blackwell, was slowly escorted out of her office.
"You believe yourself to be that strong?"
"I know I was. And now I have the experience to make that strength even more dangerous."
Blackwell skidded into the front room of the admin block as she was dragged between two PRT troopers who were uncomfortably carrying the handcuffed official out. The pair weren't aware of what she'd done, and were confused by the way that Blackwell somehow redoubled her efforts to get free as she began to scream at the mon watching on. "You! You come into my school, assault my students, and have the GALL to say I should be arrested? I'll see you put away for the rest of your miserable life... you... you... you freak!" Came the spittle-spewing invectives from the corrupt administrator as she shrieked and struggled and howled with rage.
Armor servos creaked more forcefully, especially from around Armsmaster's hands as he slowly and purposefully turned his head to Glare at Blackwell. Taylor had to stop herself from saying something rather rash in the process as she felt his sheer unbridled fury from the nominal hero as he focused himself on the one who had nearly caused a complete catastrophe for the Protectorate. He motioned harshly to the troopers, and they started to pull out a mask to put onto the principle, the kind for anti-master operations, before the former sheriff stepped in at last out of disquiet.
Taylor stepped a little forward, giving her former coworker the slight head bob she knew he usually took as a request for the chance to speak. Armsmaster motioned again, his aura flickering with an uneasiness as Taylor stepped forward a little more and spoke: "That won't be necessary, troopers."
"Oh~?" Blackwell's voice dripped with utter venom as regarded the object of her downfall with contempt. "Are you going to do something?"
Taylor nodded politely, clearing her throat. "Clearly, I already have, 'Principle.' After all, the PRT are here at my request," She began, enjoying the growing confusion in Blackwell's scowl. "As an interdimensional and/or temporal power interaction of unusual strength has brought me back to my worst day-the day I should have triggered," Taylor began harshly, putting the emphasis on the dreaded moment. The principle slowly went a little slack and white, to Taylor's slight enjoyment. Only a little. "Therefore, it makes sense for them to be here. They're checking to make certain that the events that transpired did not cause any further triggers, checking for potential residuals, and dealing with me as I specifically am working to avoid unnecessary entanglements. The trio of bullies are just being taken to a PRT hospital ward to ensure that there are no lasting aftereffects of my powers interacting with them."
Armsmaster made a slight noise behind Taylor; one she could vaguely remember to be a mix of his irritation in restraint and smug satisfaction. As Taylor took a step back, she reflected and realized that she might have slightly gone overboard in her explanation. It wasn't a gloat. The mon just needed to take a few deep breaths, re-center, and get it out of her system. "Well, your fate is up to the PRT. Good luck." She gave a small wave to Blackwell as the woman began struggling once more.
"That was unnecessary," Arms-Colin growled as he gently began guiding the mon towards the double doors.
Taylor had to bite back her first response of snarky annoyance in recognition that it wouldn't help. Instead, she focused back on her practical experience from her diplomatic years, from back when she had to help set up the water networks of Oasis and beyond as she stepped up to the doors. She spoke quietly, easing back on her own stubborn pride and grievances to focus on the moment. "Yes, yes it was. My apologies for stirring up unnecessary strife."
She looked up to Armsmaster, whom met her golden-eyed gaze with a bit of unusual curiosity. She could feel her lips quirking at his slight shock at her admitting fault, and she began to verbally introspect to help guide him along as she stepped up to the double doors. "Coming face to face with the one who... who really was the one to set me on my path. Well, it seems I still have unresolved issues I need to face," She explained, ending with a growling sigh of annoyance at her own fallibility and weaknesses returning to the force. Stepping through the double doors, she walked down the steps beneath the hastily assembled containment tent covering the front steps up to the back of the armored van idling in wait for her.
"You do not hold Hess responsible?"
"Oh, I absolutely do," Taylor quickly answered, sparing a glance of annoyance at the professional 'hero.' "But, she is only a symptom of the problem, despite how much personal satisfaction I derived from hitting her with a Thunder Wave in the heat of the moment," she continued with a bit of gravitas. "Sophia... needed help, not enablement. I blame her for her choices that led to... all of this. But she had others who put her in a position where her worst impulses would be catered to until it was too late to do anything other than locker her away for the public's safety."
"You blame me," Armsmaster declaratively inquired, speaking a statement to see if she would agree or not.
"Not... directly," She replied with a moment of hesitation. "You were misled. Emma, from what I understood when at the end of it last time around, got her father to cover for Sophia, and... Well, Blackwood..." She trailed off, unwilling to fully deny the issue. Climbing up into the opened doors, she turned to face him directly as she sat down. "You're not really a 'people' person. You probably should have caught that she wasn't quite up to her cover story. I do blame you for that. But, I can understand how you missed it as well." She nodded as she thought of it, thinking of how things could steadily get out of hand. "No, Sophia edged over the line until it was too late. I will meet you at the hospital afterwards to continue the debrief."
At Armsmaster's slight nod of tentative agreement, she decided to leave him with something to think about. "Well, have you never asked what Parahumans all have in common that makes them all... more fighty?" She waited a second for the befuddled look of introspection, then grabbed the door handle in a telekinetic Psychic grip. "Food for thought," She coyly suggested before gently shutting the door in his face. Very gently, she had at least learned some manners over the years.
She turned around to the front to see Battery and Assault-no, wait, the other way around-gaping at her. Well, Battery was; Assault sniggered in the driver's seat and muttering about how she'd made the veteran protectorate member more confused than ever. He probably wasn't aware of how well she could hear.
"Ah! Just the pair I had hoped to see. I need to speak to your-" She first pointed at Assault, then paused. Sniffing for a moment and feeling with her aura, she turned slightly to point at Battery. "No, your sponsors. You know the ones. If I recall correctly, I'm allowed a phone call, and their standard fee is... a favor? I think you'll want to patch me through. Trust me."