Read aloud to me alt Taylor

by Kahlil Johnson

Dnd

19. Outcry3

Interlude: Legend

The remains reached out to him.

It was charred, mouth open in a quiet, eternal scream. The glass of the helmet had shattered along one side, allowing him to see the hollow hole where an eye had been burned away, the remains of the organ melting into a slurry that trailed down sunken cheekbones.

It had been a while since he'd heard of a Parahuman doing this much damage to the Protectorate or the PRT.

The ash was fine beneath his hands. Rough, coarse. But so very fine it could slip easily through his closed fist.

He took a breath, panning his eyes over the destruction.

Men and women moved about with stretchers and gurneys, collecting the remains of over a hundred corpses. And that was just the PRT agents and Police Force… The prison population…

Well…

There would be many empty cells here for quite some time.

He shook his head.

He took to the air again, soaring across the city, leaving a small army of police and field agents surrounding the scene and running their tests.

In minutes, he slowly descended on the PRT HQ, making himself as visible and obvious as possible. They didn't need to be further alarmed, not after last night.

When he touched his boots to the ground, he peered through the shattered sliding doors at the entrance; the building bore its own wounds from conventional and tinker-tech weaponry now.

When the guards caught sight of him they straightened.

"S-sir?"

"I just received word. There's a jet coming in from La Guardia not far behind with supplies and reinforcements." It felt too small, too much of a pittance, but it was all he had had the time to gather.

The guards stood there, their armor scuffed, scratched, and pitted with damage.

He was pristine by comparison, and it made him feel ashamed.

Alexandria would call him foolish considering all the times he charged into dangers while others, agents included, ran in the opposite direction.

The Butcher. The Slaughterhouse Nine. The Endbringers.

Perhaps it was foolish, but there it was.

"Where is the Director?"

"In the main conference room sir,"

"Thank you." He answered and brushed past them towards the stairs.

Rising up, quicker than any elevator he made it and quietly entered the hall.

When he opened the door, it was to the sound of raised voices. They were clear enough to rip through the damaged walls. He couldn't really make out the words but he recognized Miss Militia's voice and Piggot's. The younger ones had to be Wards.

He heard Rebecca's voice there too. Calm with the weight of a thunderstorm.

He didn't hear Armsmaster.

He reached the door, took a breath, and pushed it open.

"What is-" Piggot and the rest of the room went quiet.

Rebecca nodded.

"Legend." She greeted. "Given the situation, director, I'm officially transferring temporary command of the Protectorate ENE to him. I'm sure you don't object."

Piggot shook her head. "I do not- How long will you be staying?"

Rebecca opened her mouth, ready to answer what she'd told him earlier.

Three days.

That was all New York could 'spare'.

But Legend had been ready for this question. And he'd always been faster than her.

"As long as I'm needed here."

Costa Brown's mouth shut, which was the only sign of her surprise.

She had more tact than to contradict him when in front of so many.

He saw her eyes narrow ever so slightly, now watching him.

He panned his eyes across the room, Piggot, Miss Militia, Assault, Dauntless, Battery, Aegis, Gallant, Clockblocker, "Behind me, I have a plane loaded with troops and supplies to help. I can bring more if you need it."

Rebecca's lips thinned, but he ignored it.

He shifted, then walked towards the table, sat down, and laced his hands in front of him. "I'm sorry to make you repeat yourself, but outside of an attempted jailbreak, over one hundred casualties, and the entire Protectorate and Wards team pushed into a retreat by a single Parahuman… I'm rather scarce on the finer details."

Rebecca spoke, curt and to the point. "The Parahuman in question is a former Ward. Her name is Ashburn. You'll recall that around three months ago Winslow school burned down, correct?"

He nodded slowly. "News reached us in New York. Yes. I-"

"That was her Trigger event." She spoke over him. "Her abilities have her rated as a Brute Five, Master two , Blaster Four, and a Shaker Four. She has the ability to heal herself and others through the use of mediums that have been designated as 'Idols.' Those ratings will be revised given the events of last night."

Legend didn't have Rebecca's gift for 'Cold reading' but the flinch he saw in Miss Militia was obvious even as she tried to repress it.

Piggot slid a file over to him.

Quietly, he opened it.

Eyes ghosting across the pages the Triumvirate member found himself frowning. "She doesn't seem particularly unstable in these pictures." He commented and jumped to the end. "I'm not finding any complaint slips either. What caused the kind of violence from last night?"

Piggot sighed began to speak."We're currently under the impression that there is Master influence at work he-"

"Bullshit!"

The voice was a sharp, angry bark and it made Legend lookup to find Gallant glaring at the director.

"Galla-"

"Stop trying to cover up your actio-"

"There is no cover up. Your assumption is just that! An assu-"

"Quiet!"

Rebecca rarely raised her voice. It was a tactic, like most things were with her. When it happened, people listened. There was no desensitization to it.

Everyone settled; but the tension was thick enough you could cut it with a knife.

He brought his eyes to Gallant and took a breath. "Young man. Is there something you'd like to say?"

"Yeah. There's a whole lot I'd like to say!" He pointed at Piggot. "She's been covering this whole thing up!"

"Covering up what son?"

The boy looked like he was ready to explode; it was Miss Militia's quiet voice that stopped him.

"I'm afraid the leadership of the PRT and Protectorate ENE has been involved in illegal abuses of their power."

The woman's voice rather than her words sent a very real chill down Legend's spine. It was flat, and wooden. He'd only heard that voice from her at the earliest moments of her records. When she was a girl more comfortable with a gun clasped in her hands than a smile on her face.

He looked at her now, really looked at her. Militia stared at a spot on the table, like she wasn't really seeing it at all; her voice was flat not out of choice but because she needed it to be. Another wall between her and what she was feeling.

Piggot glared, demanding the woman shut up with looks alone.

Militia ignored her.

"Shortly after Miss Hebert triggered." She said. "It was discovered that the cause of her Trigger was a direct result of actions undertaken by. Sophia Hess. AKA Shadow Stalker in both Wards civilian ID's"

Legend stared, blinking in open stupefaction.

That…

"And… why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"It was decided." Piggot cut in- apparently; if she couldn't stop it she'd at least get ahead of it. "That Shadow Stalker could be more useful as a closely monitored asset rather than-"

"You just didn't want the bad press." Gallant interrupted.

Piggot glared, boring a hole into Gallant. If looks could kill...

The others kept their heads bowed.

Legend turned to look at her, face carefully neutral. With the reaction of the others he didn't need to ask. But he'd give her the courtesy. "Is this true?"

She turned to face him. He noticed then the bandages peeking out beneath her blouse, covering her shoulder.

She'd been shot last night too.

"Unlike Gallant's assessment, I did not cover this up to avoid bad press as he says. My motives were purely pragmatic."

He leaned back. "Just to make certain…" He ventured. "You were aware at the time you undertook this action that Shadow Stalker was responsible for Miss Hebert's trigger event?"

"Yes, I was." She answered.

He had to work to loosen his jaw a bit. "And… you are aware of the full implications of what a Trigger event is… what it means for Parahumans?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Of course I was."

He leaned back in his chair. "This better be good." It was a warning, not a joke.

"Miss Hess." Piggot all but bit out. "Had been engaging in a rather vicious bullying campaign against Miss Hebert for the better part of two years."

Evidently, that drew some shock; Clockblocker who's head had been bowed turned to look at the director in open surprise. Perhaps he'd thought it was a "one off" moment.

A 'campaign' had far more… damaging connotations.

He didn't know. Chances are Aegis didn't either but was just better at hiding it judging by how he tensed up.

"As you know in the interim of these two years Shadow Stalker became a probationary Ward. Her activities were monitored by us."

He blinked.

He had to give the woman some credit.

It takes a hell of a poker face just say that last part like she was being completely honest.

She moved quickly to continue, no doubt sensing his incredulity. "Unfortunately, we trusted the Winslow school faculty with reporting her activities in school. They quickly decided that the grant and Sophia's presence in deterring the neophytes and teenagers of this city's gangs were worth more than one girl's discomfort and gave us no report on the bullying campaign Sophia was actively pursuing against Hebert."

"And some four months ago she triggered because of her." He ventured, deciding to make a long story short.

"That's right." Piggot nodded. "Her Trigger, as you know, ended up burning Winslow down. After this, it was my assessment that if Miss Hebert became aware of Sophia's true identity, she would not join the Wards willingly. Which meant that she would go rogue, or worse, be recruited by the villain gangs."

He shook his head.

He wanted to say that that wasn't how they did things, that this was not how it was supposed to work. Sophia should have been held accountable. They should have been held accountable.

They should have dealt with Hebert, with the situation honestly.

But he'd be something of a hypocrite then.

God knows he'd done worse. They had done worse.

"So you hid the information." He mumbled, lips pressing together.

"She tried." It was Miss Militia, much to his surprise; that spoke. "I sent a report of these events. To Alexandria. Asking for her advice on how to handle this. I never heard back."

It was a good thing his mask hid his eyes because he couldn't help but dart them over towards Rebecca, glaring at her image.

She glared right back. Daring him to argue.

"Armsmaster and myself were in the middle of making plans to… address the situation permanently. Either transferring Ms. Hess to Juvenile detention or to another Branch willing to take her off our hands."

Legend frowned. Wilkins, the New York Director had received a priority email from Brockton Bay.

"You were pushing for a transfer. Not juvie." He observed.

She didn't deny it.

Piggot sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "After Sophia would have been transferred out, I would have spoken to Hebert and revealed all the circumstances regarding Miss Hess."

"After Sophia was safely out of reach?" Legend asked. "After you'd made it all but impossible to take action against her?"

Piggot's lips pursed. "After she had time to see the rest of the Wards. After she had time to get past the horrid impression Sophia's immediate revelation would have left on her. Yes, Legend. After." The woman all but spat. Truly she must be high strung to let herself speak to him like this. Very few ever did even at the worst of times. "I was not going to lose another fresh Trigger to the Empire! We get so few heroes up here that allowing one to slip through the cracks was unacceptable."

"And helping Sophia avoid punishment falls into that? That is what's unacceptable here!" He accused.

The woman's face turned red. Sheer rage burning behind her eyes, it was enough to catch him off guard. She seemed to look around the room. "I would like everyone to leave please. Wait outside."

"I'm not-"

"That wasn't a request. Mr. Stansfield. Get. Out."

One by one the Wards stood with Gallant giving the Director a glare, Militia marched out her back stiff and not looking at anyone.

He was getting increasingly worried about her.

Piggot barely even waited for the click of the door to close before she started speaking. "Do you know the reason we even took Sophia in the first place, Legend? Why we kept her on, despite every non-heroic act she did beforehand or after her recruitment?"

He didn't. So he didn't answer.

"No? I'm not surprised." She looked at Rebecca and Legend both. "The two of you know so very little about the situation here."

"We know of your-"

"Five years. Five years and seven months." She spat out, her voice rising to carry over Rebecca's. "That's how long we've been requesting more capes after Lung and Hookwolf made their appearances here in the Bay. Hookwolf, who I'll remind you, came from NEW YORK!" She screamed. "We were asking for any capes. From any state. I have twelve parahumans I can field at any given time. Half of those are Wards who shouldn't be fighting. Would you like to know how many can be fielded by the Empire?"

"Piggot-"

"Fifteen!" She snapped, cutting him off. "Fifteen capes. With twice our number of unpowered people. The ABB has Lung, Bakuda, and Oni-Lee. Add to that Faultline, the Undersiders, and Coil. I am outnumbered out here by at least double the number of parahumans and five times the number of unpowered criminals."

She turned her eyes to Legend. "I request reinforcement after reinforcement. More troops, more supplies, more funding, more Parahumans, more anything that can be spared. Would you like to know what happened, Legend? Nothing. I get nothing! I get it. The Bay is a shit hole, an economic disaster sinking into its own filth. This place isn't a priority for any of you. I can manage. I roll with the punches. I keep my relationships amicable with New Wave. Get a working relationship with Parian for the capes who need costumes from her. I take the help where I can find it. I muscled Sophia into the Wards out of necessity, Legend. She was my only potential counter to Lung, my only potential counter to Hookwolf, to Kaiser, perhaps even Krieg as well. She was a cape that dropped into my lap out of sheer happenstance. I take what I can get, Legend. And I try to get the damn job done with the table scraps you and the Director here deign to spare me from wherever the hell you are. And I can deal with that."

She stood then and leaned forward on the table for emphasis. "But don't you sit there, coming on down from your Ivory Tower to see the disaster zone and judge me when all you've done is leave us out here to drown in a sinking city. After you've been sitting here with us for a year. Or after you've wiped out the ABB, cleaned up the Boat Graveyard, and shoved Kaiser into a dark hole. Then you can tell me how you'd have done things. How things should have been done. You don't get to act surprised, Hero. That corners have been cut and our procedures and actions aren't up to the standards you're used to. You're a lot farther from the luxury resort in New York than you think."

Legend sat there, taken aback by the pure venom in Piggot's voice as she glared at the two.

The silence lingered and hung heavy for a moment.

"Are you quite done?" Rebecca drawled. Legend gave her a look while Piggot's head whipped to the screen so fast he was surprised her neck didn't break.

He could tell that the threat of being fired was the only thing holding her back from cursing out the both of them.

"I will remain here until this situation has been resolved." Legend reminded, arms crossed. "I'll also see about bringing over two Wards and another parahuman on my team to help with the situation. How are the injured?" Piggot was still glaring a hole into the two as she leaned back in her chair..

"Kid Win suffered burns to much of his body. The superheated air also burned his trachea, windpipe, and lungs. That is what nearly killed him more than anything else. That has been repaired. He and Hess are more or less in the same boat. Both are in a chemically induced coma. Kid Win is expected to be healed by tomorrow. He didn't lose any limbs or significant portions of his blood. For Hess, on the other hand, the damage was simply too extensive for Panacea to repair with what fat reserves Sophia had available. She prioritized everything life-threatening. If we were to wake her up now she'd be in an unbelievable amount of pain so we're keeping her under. As for Armsmaster…" She paused. "Panacea can't heal him."

Legend felt his heart drop.

"...What were his injuries?"

"His skull was cracked." Rebecca answered, her tone betraying nothing. "The trauma forced his brain to swell. The swelling put too much pressure on the brainstem. There was internal bleeding and hemorrhaging of the brain tissue as well."

"And Panacea doesn't heal brains." He sighed, one hand rising to rub his forehead.

"Dragon has taken it on herself to look after Wallis and heal him." Piggot seemed to share his sigh. "We also suffered… parahuman casualties on base."

"Who?"

"Triumph, the Ward Browbeat" She shrugged. "Vista was also injured; a heat weapon of some kind, and a concussion. She's expected to recover though we're keeping her on observation in the Rig."

"How?"

"While most of our forces were busy at the prison, Coil attacked the PRT Headquarters. Preliminary analysis indicates upwards of seventy mercenaries. He had access to our safety codes, used multiple entrances, scrambled communications. The works. If Assault and Battery hadn't arrived halfway through the attack they may have killed us all." She looked worn in that moment, the lines of her face growing long and dark. The bags under her eyes standing out more than normal. "I can't believe he could have infiltrated our systems and protocols to this degree…"

"Have their families been informed?" He asked.

"I have agents doing so as we speak though Colin has no surviving family."

"And Ashburn?" He asked.

"She has a father…" She paused.

"This couldn't have been coincidence." Legend sighed. "Coil ennacts this… coordinated attack on your department, has everything compromised and Ashburn just so happens to completely snap?"

The Director nodded. "Evidence suggests that both Sophia and Taylor were picked up last night by Coil's men, not ours. He knew. And he used that information against us."

"He wouldn't need to do that if he had a master in his employ or was a master himself." Legend sighed.

"We can't rule it out. Some Masters use emotional distress to make targets easier to control." Emily reasoned with a shrug. "In short, while we haven't found any evidence to prove it neither have we had the time to disprove it."

"We should send this information to our thinkers in New York and Los Angeles." He suggested. "They'll determine if there was some mental influence at work here."

Piggot rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. "Who are the capes you're bringing? I doubt they'll do much."

"He could always keep them in New York." Rebecca drawled. Piggot gave her a glare and bared some teeth. Her loss of composure could easily be blamed on stress and exhaustion. She must have been up for twenty-four hours straight at the very least.

"I'm planning on sending Flechette from my division, New York, and I'll get in touch with Director Armstrong in Boston about possibly sending Weld. Two Wards, both exemplar in their track record. I myself will stay here until this is resolved." Legend spoke.

"You're needed in New York." Rebecca shot.

"New York will be fine in Maestro's hands for a few months" He answered.

"The Teeth-"

"Will be cracked down as they have been. And if the situation gets out of hand I can be there in minutes. I'm staying here, Chief Director."

"We'll discuss this later." It was a promise as much as it was a threat.

"You can open the discussion after I'm done here."

"You sound highly optimistic…" Piggot snipped.

"Someone has to be." The energy based hero retorted. "Before we go further, might I see the footage from last night?"

The woman nodded.

Before long, he was staring at a black clad giant tearing through the prison courtyard, agents, prisoners, police, heroes, and Wards. It was like dust motes struggling against a storm.

"We've designated this… combat form- as Surtr." She admitted. "If we can play this off as an entirely different cape it will do well to mitigate the Public relations damage."

"We might be beyond that," Rebecca said. "Legend, we will speak again very soon. I need to put our holding facilities on alert."

She closed off the link.

He took a breath and looked at Piggot. "Where is Ashburn now?"

The grimace was plain as day. "We don't know."

(X)

It was night, pitch black in the city. He was miles above in the sky, where he waited and the moon was so close he felt he could just reach out and touch it.

Alexandria finally came to him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked, arms crossed.

"Putting a stop to this." Legend answered. "People are dead, Alexandria."

"Don't be naive. The experiment was always going to call for deaths."

"One-hundred and sixty-seven, Alexandria. The majority of those deaths happened because of a Ward. Good men and women that never would have been there, in a situation that never would have occurred without us allowing things to get this bad."

Alexandria didn't deny it. "The experiment calls for us to not interfere-"

"And what was you not acting on Militia's report if not interfering!" She stiffened. "Not interfering and sabotage are two very different things." He accused. "You let this happen!"

Her lips twisted, pressing against eachother until they were thin slits as she frowned.

He let out a breath through his nostrils. "Your experiment failed. You've practically let Coil have free-reign to do what he wants here, he's now turned a good young woman into a fugitive, killed heroes and Wards during the raid, and eviscerated the local Protectorate. Good men and women that wanted to do nothing more than their jobs. You don't get to just call this an experiment anymore. Hell, if it's done anything its just proven that Parahumans with too much power go too damn far!"

He shook his head "I'm pulling the plug, with or without your help."

Her mouth was a grim line. He met her glare with his own, willing her to see that he was not going to back down again. Not this time. He'd abided by many decisions Cauldron had made in the name of the greater good. Ones that made him feel monstrous inside. Made it hard to sleep.

"Where exactly do you draw the line, Alexandria? When is it just too far?"

"Where do you?" She cut in. Her words always did when she wished them to. "You've been complicit in your fair share.You like to pretend you don't know. Even convince yourself really that what you do, what you help us do. Doesn't really cross a line. That it isn't really that bad. If you can just shove it all on us. That just makes it so much easier for you doesn't it? I'll repeat Piggot's little sentiment. Don't come on down from your Ivory Tower and pretend that you have the right to act surprised, Legend. You made your bed with us, and you will lie in it with us when all is said and done."

"You're right." He finally nodded. "You're right. I don't get to act surprised. Not after so long of having known you. You can be a monster with the best of them when you want to be."

Her mouth twitched in a quickly controlled grimace.

His words could bite too when he wanted them to...

He took a breath. They both did.

"We have hung these people out on a limb here and it is going to break."

"It was always intended to break! If your concern is Coil I can assure you he won't be doing anything like this again."

"More doublespeak." He all but growled. "I know you well enough to recognize that too. What'd you do? Send Contessa to give him a warning? Hmm? A postcard? Pop a door by his bedside table? He's kidnapped a twelve year old girl, and by all accounts, forced another to have a psychotic breakdown and potentially a second Trigger. He is responsible for no less than four Heroes in the hospital, one of which is in the morgue along with a whole cemeteries worth of agents and prisoners. He has ruined people's lives!" Alexandria bared her teeth in a snarl.

"And you haven't?"

"I have I will admit that, and it's time to stop! And its sickening that you can't see that!"

She opened her mouth, but he kept going. He knew her. And he knew she wasn't invulnerable.

"Did you even look at Hannah?"

Her mouth snapped shut.

He glared. "Did you?" He repeated. "Because I remember there was a time where you gave a shit about your Wards team."

Her head turned. Looking away. And the movement might as well have been as loud as a gunshot.

"She asked you for help!" He pressed. "Never. Not once in all the years she's been assigned here did she ask any of us for help. And the one time she asked you… You toss it away for an experiment. Is that all they're worth to you?"

He could see when she recognized what he was about to say. When the insinuation carried to her completely.

"Was Hero worth even less than that?"

For a moment, he feared he'd pushed too far. Her face remained impassive, he saw no tells but the fist she clenched at her side told him she was a hairs breadth away from punching his head off of his shoulders.

He didn't back down.

"He loved those kids." He pressed on. "And he never would have sat on this the way you did."

For a long moment the silence hung between them like a blade.

And finally, he saw her sag, the minute drop of her shoulders almost… bleeding the fight out of her.

"What do you want, Legend?"

…

…

"I want to save the world… I want to make things right."

Alexandria snorted. "So easy eh? Because the world still works that way?"

"Maybe it doesn't." He admitted sadly. "Maybe I'm just an idiot like all of you think. But… aren't you tired of it? Of throwing people to the wolves for utilitarianism. Just once…" His mouth opened then closed, fishing for the words, he smiled, almost pleading. "Don't you want do things the right way Alexandria. The way we used to do things? I don't want to… settle for good enough,

She, at the very least, seemed genuine in her sadness.

After a long moment she sighed too, looking away. "You're a good man… And in this world good men die young."

She shook her head, frowning. At what exactly, he couldn't discern. The situation, him, the memories.

"You know Coil's identity." He finally breathed. "Will you give it to me?"

"Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't. Legend shows up in town, an hour later the most mysterious villain in the bay is captured. Too conspicuous. You know his power. That's more than most."

He nodded, eyes downcast. "Well. You can help me or get out of my way but I'm asking you not to fight me."

He didn't wait to hear her response, with a thought he was soon soaring down, back towards the lights of the bay.

(X)(X)(X)

Rebecca Costa Brown:

Minutes later when the doorway collapsed behind her she was face to face with Eidolon, the Number Man, Doctor Mother, and Contessa.

She shook her head. "He's determined to continue."

Doctor Mother looked to Contessa with a quirked eyebrow.

The woman obligingly thought for a moment. "Two-hundred and thirty-seven steps to turn Legend's attention away from the Bay."

"Is this experiment really that important?" David asked, the strongest hero crossing his arms. "We've given Coil enough rope to hang himself with. I say we let the noose snap shut. He's given us enough trouble with this latest stunt."

"We do have other sites that are far more removed, truth be told." The Doctor Mother added.

"That's part of the problem." Number Man contested. "The Bay is one of the areas closest to economic collapse in the modern world and dealing with a high number of capes. Its landscape is somewhat unique for the experiment's projected intent."

"There's no guarantee Coil won't continue to escalate after this if we let him get away with it. Give him an inch, he may very well think he can take a mile." Alexandria added, hands clasping behind her back. "Not to mention that the girl he captured can be far more useful and malleable than we previously thought. She's a powerful pre-cog. He also turned what seems to be a very powerful young Ward, one that can make up for at least ten capes against us." She shrugged. "I say we let Legend clean things up. It will help with mitigating the PR damage and show that these kind of attacks are taken seriously. It may also give him a chance to cool off.."

Doctor Mother looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. "You were against Legend involving himself before. What changed?"

She shrugged. "I… reassessed my opinion."

(X)(X)(X)

Rebecca did not often choose to go home.

And it always was a choice.

Between her life as the Chief Director, as Alexandria and Cauldron's primary agent active on Earth Bet, going home was a luxury at best.

With her power, she didn't need sleep like most did. She indulged in it because after a solid week of crisis after crisis and day after day of weathering the responsibility that would have cracked others in half the time she'd been at it, sleep was a rejuvenation of the spirit more than a physical need.

When she did sleep, unless an Endbringer Alert occurred she was not to be interrupted. The eight hours she reserved to rest were hers. The Simurgh had interrupted her once, she liked to think she'd managed to punch the monster particularly hard that day.

Those were the times you could find her home. Usually.

Rare was a day like today.

She could explain it away of course. Too many responsibilities. Not enough time. Not enough reason to do it.

That she was fine.

But she knew deep down they were lies.

When she came home… like this. When she stepped away from the day to day reality that was her life, a constant roller-coaster that left her no time to truly sit and think before the next crisis was ramming itself down her throat-

When she took the time to stop…

That's when everything caught up.

That's when she had no choice but to look.

And that made things… infinitely harder.

Better the chaos. Better the constant struggle for just a bit more time. Better the days of feeling that if she stopped moving even for one instant she would drown.

Better that than stopping.

So why today?

Why did she enter her home today? Peel off her helmet in her living room and allow it to clatter to the floor. Why today did she turn the water in her shower to boiling hot and stand there, trying in vain to feel clean.

Why today did she sit in her room, her perfect memory flitting through her mind, torturing her with its ghosts.

Why subject herself to this again?

Hero loved those kids.

Because on some level the justifications melted away. On some level the… necessity just wasn't enough.

On some level she knew she'd messed up.

And on some level; she still wanted to think that she was, or at the absolute least had been a good person… once.

And the dying embers of that person… couldn't help but admit that Legend's words had hurt.

Because on some level he was right.

…

It was so easy.

That's what stuck out to her the most in her memories.

It hadn't even been a footnote in her day to day.

She'd barely spared it a single moment's consideration.

She'd seen the message. Read it. Dissected it.

Militia had asked her pleaded with her for an answer. For help.

And like an automatic gun, soulless and uncaring her mind had just chambered the simple answer.

This is Brockton Bay. Cauldron isn't meant to interfere.

And just like that; the message was gone.

She'd known Militia would be saddened by the lack of response. She'd known the woman wouldn't bother her with such a small matter again. Because it wasn't like her. It wasn't in her profile. She'd known Militia would know she had read and dismissed the letter.

But she also knew Militia would lie to herself. Tell herself that it hadn't been read. That there'd been an emergency and Alexandria simply forgot.

She'd known this and she exploited it.

She tried to think back on the Rebecca from then. Of the Alexandria that helped train the first Wards team. Of the woman who entered the common room and glared at Hero finding him organizing a game of twister rather than Tinkering, even as she warned the kids not ruin their appetite with the junk food he brought them. Tried to remember the woman the Wards called when they were troubled with the program or some minor problem at school that they were convinced she could help with.

She tried to remember. And for all her perfect memory she could not see her.

When she looked at Hannah today…

It was like stepping back in time. To the girl that stared out into a field wondering where the mines are. Who kept her emotions locked behind a barred and sealed gate of heavy, thick iron so they couldn't touch her. So she could keep doing her job as she needed to.

She'd spent years helping that girl become a good woman.

And a single deleted email had torn down something someone she'd once been so proud to call her accomplishment.

…

And it was a realization; as harsh and biting as the winter chill, that made her realize why she cared.

She cared because this time… there was a face.

This time it wasn't a rote statistic on a page. It wasn't some distant monster, or some casual happenstance that caused it.

All of this, direct or indirect, could be laid at her feet.

All of it.

The Brockton Bay experiment had been proposed just a year after the Siberian. After Hero was gone and he couldn't object. Perhaps she should have spoken up then. If only just in his memory.

She didn't.

When 'Lack of Cauldron interference' started to become 'hamstringing' the Protectorate, perhaps she should have spoken up then.

She didn't.

When Number man said it would be best to leave 'Notable faces' to maintain the illusion of support and had set up Colin and Hannah as the sacrificial lambs she could have spoken up for the kids Hero had once thought of as his because he'd never have any of his own.

She didn't.

When Miss Miliia sent her a fucking email the first in over a decade asking her directly for help she should have answered!!!

She didn't even THINK ON IT!

So she sat at home, utterly still but for the breathing and the crushing pressure around her chest that felt like it would squeeze the air straight out of her lungs.

…

She was responsible for more deaths than she could ever account for.

Hundreds. Thousands. Millions… Across multiple worlds and endless dimensions she'd acted in the interests of preserving humanity.

And somewhere along the way she lost hers.

And she was ok with that. She could make peace with that some day.

But her mistakes had gone and stripped humanity from the girl who'd once thought her to be the reason for her salvation.

And that… that she wasn't sure how to deal with.

I'm sorry.

The words didn't come. Even as she opened her mouth to say them in the privacy of her own home where none but her could hear them…

Her breath caught; and a sudden dreadful panic locked her voice and paralyzed her more firmly than any power.

She couldn't say it…

Because to say it was to stop.

And if Rebecca ever stopped…

Then the world would catch up.

(X)(X)(X)

Spoiler: Changelog:

Last edited: Jun 12, 2022

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Ld1449

To the last, Kill them all

Jun 12, 2022

#4,531

Interlude: Lisa

She felt sick.

It was a trite, pithy way to put it, but that's what she felt.

From her head down to her toes, through every muscle fiber and inch of rigid bone, Lisa Wilbourne felt sick.

Physical state uncompromised. Emotional duress causing physiological reactions. Emotional drain. Illogical emotional attachment to the victim. Lisa Wilbourne comparing victim Taylor Hebert wi-

She clamped down on her power, eyes shutting tight, a whimper clawing its way out of her throat.

She shoved herself away from the bathroom sink, swaying on her feet.

Lightheadedness caused by lack of food. Lack of water. Early stages of dehydration. State compounded by frequent nausea. Early signs of depression. Continued actions unsustainab-

The sound of her footsteps didn't go unnoticed.

Brian stepped out of his room, Darkness spilling off his skin like melting tallow.

His eyes found her, and he winced.

"Shit Lisa, you look like hell."

A miserable laugh bubbled up her throat, burning with a kernel of hysteria.

Brian sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

Is concerned for your safety. Is concerned for your emotional health. Knows you feel guilty. Believes guilt a product of the deaths of so many. Unaware of Lisa Wilbourne's trigger. Unaware of-

"Lisa, you can't keep doing this to yourself." He pleaded. "Look, I get it… but you told us yourself Coil was going to kill you. You didn't have a choice. He killed those people, not you!"

She didn't answer, moving to shuffle past him back to her room.

She expected him to let her. Expected him to stay out of her way.

When he stepped in front of her, Lisa stood stock still.

For a moment.

Then she hit him.

It was a sloppy hit. Telegraphed. Weak. She'd always been weaker than him, physically. And her current condition hardly had her at her best.

He blocked the blow, a flash of surprise on his features. But that surprise was gone by the time the next one came.

Or the next.

Or the next.

Her fists hurt by the time she stopped. Her voice was raw. Alec had stepped out of his room at the commotion, then quietly slid back in.

She's not really sure when Brian had gone from holding her back to holding her up. When her hands had gone from fists to claws grabbing hold along his arms like he was the only mooring that could keep her steady as her mind whirled in a storm.

He brought her to the couch. The big, stupid, nine hundred dollars white couch that still had the bloodstain on it.

She struggled to breathe, wondering distantly if this was at all what Taylor had felt with shattered ribs and broken arms as she sat there, Brian rubbing circles along her back as he knelt at her side.

"It's not about the people." She confessed.

Brian didn't say anything.

Is confused. Doesn't know how to respond. Unsure if misunderstanding. Willing to let you talk. Wants you to talk. Considers you his responsibility.

"I… did I ever tell you how I triggered Bri." She hadn't.

She'd never told anyone

He stiffened.

She told him anyway.

(X)(X)(X)

"I killed her." She whispered. "Like I put the gun to her head myself."

"Lisa…" He breathed. "She… Coil made it, so she was in a bad place then. But she fought! She didn't… do that- so that means-"

"You didn't see her." She interrupted. "You didn't hear her… Everything… everything she had. Every building block. Every small inch of support. Every fragment of self-worth and belief in herself she had; I stripped it away Brian. Everything in her life that made her happy. She was happy Brian!" She sniffed, eyes clenching shut as she swallowed thickly. "How many people can say that, after a trigger? How many people find that they're really truly happy where they end up? And then I-"

"Coil." He interrupted. "Coil. Did this, you were-"

"I was the gun!" She screamed.

He looked away. His expression fell.

He didn't deny it.

Silence reigned.

"I… told you before, that my Dad isn't good at being a dad" He began.

She nodded, shutting out the whispers of her power to avoid it telling her what he was going to say. To drown out the cold logic for just a few seconds that told her in no uncertain terms how much damage she'd done.

"There's at least one thing he taught me that I think is pretty good." Brian continued. "If you fuck up. And you can't fix it. Then don't worry about it. And if you can fix it. Then you've got two options. Fix it. Or stop bitching about it."

Lisa turned, seafoam green meeting dark brown.

Brian stared at her. "I'm probably gonna regret asking… is she alive?"

…

Lisa sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "Looks like I'm gonna find out."

(X)(X)(X)

Hacking the PRT's systems had become much much harder since the attack.

Evidently, the ENE had undertaken a full security overhaul from top to bottom.

Luckily; she didn't have to go that far.

There were over a hundred families who needed to be notified of their loved ones dying. The news couldn't be kept under wraps for more than a few days.

And it had been more than a few days.

They released a video. Edited and cut. But between that and her own memories, photos of the prison taken after the fact, interviews, statements, PHO boards, and every single scrap of information available on Taylor Hebert everywhere she could get her hands on; Lisa was building a picture.

A very terrifying picture.

Ashen idols heal. Healing cumulative. Accelerating. Can heal quickly. Healed injuries slowly. Enough to keep alive. Healing Slowed.

Slowed rate… Intended.

Taylor Hebert right handed. Surtr left handed. Taylor Hebert female. Surtr Male.

Different. Not the same.

Not mastered. Result of power. Movements foreign. No overlapping combat styles. No psychological markers.

Surtr Not Taylor Hebert.

No known Masters in bay capable of this control. Coil not a Master. Coil a thinker.

Coil simulation based thi-

Surtr formed of ash. No body. Held together by will. Construct. Taylor Hebert acting as central core. No air gaps. No oxygen. Sustained by power. No reaction to stimuli.

Held insensate.

Prior friendship with Glory Girl. No recognition. No familiarity.

Relationship with Miss Militia- Relationship damaged, exploited, destroyed by Lisa Wil-

No recognition.

Surtr is not Taylor Hebert. Result of power.

Is Surtr her power?

Power sentient.

Surtr sentient.

Taylor Hebert wished to die, mental state caused by Lis-

Surtr emotional spectrum not the same. Surtr in control. No wish to die.

Result of power.

Power sentient.

Surtr sentient

Sentience behind power…

…

Ash.

Surtr does not control ash. Surtr powerful. Brute, Blaster, Partial Shaker.

Not ash control…

Surtr not behind power. Surtr result of power…

…

Idols formed of ash.

Idols not controlled by Surtr. Idols not controlled by Taylor Hebert.

Active idols heal.

Healing slowed.

Slowed healing deliberate.

Active idols transform from ash to charred flesh. Transmutation. Ability unseen in Taylor Hebert. Ability unseen in Surtr.

Active idols result of power.

Active idols sentient.

Active idols independent of control.

Active idols sentient.

Power sentient.

Active idols progenitor of Power.

Idols sustaining Taylor Hebert. Idols keeping Taylor Hebert alive. Idols won't let her die.

Power sentient.

Power won't let Hebert die.

Power… Not Human. Not *ERROR*

The spike of pain that lanced through her skull nearly made her black out, her hands fumbling to grip the desk, nearly face planting onto the keyboard.

She sat there, struggling to breathe, whimpering through the lance of agony in her skull…

…

…

More data required

Her headache throbbed behind her eyes, and it was with shaking hands she reached for the pill bottle, downing more aspirins than what was probably healthy, drinking water with shaking hands.

She kept looking.

(X)(X)(X)

She's too prideful to admit it. But it's desperation- not deduction that brings her to this place.

Brian is with her. The both of them dressed in civilian garb, quietly bypassing the police tape. Climbing up to the charred and blackened ruins.

Nothing remains of Winslow.

"Why here?" Brian asks.

She takes a breath. Trying to feel as confident as she makes herself sound.

"This is where it happened." She answers. "Her trigger."

Power Sentient.

Power Not Human.

Power chose Taylor.

Power Not Human

Power deliberately slowed healing

Power wishes to isolate Taylor.

Winslow is the place where Taylor was most isolated.

Winslow place of Taylor's trigger.

Taylor's trigger caused by Bullying. Abuse. Solitude.

Winslow place of Taylor's solitude.

"You don't think the PRT came here?" He asked.

Impatient. Wants to support you. Unsure how to support you. Unsure how to help. Beginning to believe Taylor Hebert is dead. Unwilling to tell you. Unwilling to hurt yo-

"They may have." She admits. "But I've got to see for myself.

They climb the still ash-strewn hillside.

It's dark

It's not obvious. It's not something anyone would really see, not with eyes. Not at night. But as she steps into this place…

It's dark.

The blackness thickens in the air, like an invisible fog. A haze around the back of her eyes that swallows the light.

Lisa breathes.

And she knows.

She's here.

(X)(X)(X)

It takes even longer than she's comfortable to admit finding Faultline.

The woman has gone to ground. Her whole organization, her whole operation vanishing overnight. The only reason they haven't fled Brockton Bay entirely is because she's well aware Gregor and Newter can't escape with her and she won't abandon them.

As far as completely cutting themselves off from any and all searches, Lisa has to admit, the air bubble of a half-sunken wreck whose only human-sized entrance is under water and who's single hole for air filtration is barely the size of an apple is… pretty desperate.

Not that Lisa blames her much at all.

The hideout is completely off the grid. No internet. No power grid. Its single generator is a solar battery that barely lets them power a radio and charge a burner phone that Faultline is keeping charged just in case Brian and the Undersiders call them because Coil made a move against them.

Faultline's been living here, with her crew for nine days.

And somehow, the woman still looks better than Lisa does when they meet face to face.

The glare faultline gives her has no heat. No bite. She has no energy for it and even if she did, Lisa feels as though she'd deserve it.

"What do you want Tattletale?"

Her voice is hard but-

Not angry. Perfunctory. Exhausted. Is actually glad to see you. Knows you can provide information. Knows you hate Coil. Feels trapped. Fells guilty. Feels angry. Whole team chafing under the lockdown. Unsure how much longer she can keep them calm. Considering surrendering to the PRT. Considerin-

Lisa didn't have the energy for the back and forth. Didn't have the energy for the old grudge.

She'd never liked Faultline. Too many similarities. Too many pieces of each other that they saw that each hated.

But she didn't need to like the woman, nor did she need to be liked in turn.

Not for this.

"I want Coil dead." She answered simply.

Faultline might care about Hebert. In spite of her mercenary reputation and work; it took a certain kind of bleeding heart to champion Case 53's and help them against some secretive organization hardly anyone even believed existed.

But simple pragmatism and revenge worked just as well as motivators.

And Taylor was her responsibility.

The Mercenary stared at her. Then scoffed. "Don't suppose you know what his power is now-"

"I do."

She wasn't lying.

With as many times as he'd used it just during the attack on the prison itself… yeah.

She knew. And she'd make him choke on it.

Regardless, her words surprised Faultline. The exhaustion pushed back from her eyes. Sharp and gleaming.

Doesn't care about price. Will settle up later. Wants payback. Wants to make sure no one thinks about using her like that again. Wants Coil dead.

"Got a plan?" She asked

"The beginnings of one," Lisa admitted. "But first I'm gonna need access to Labyrinth."

Faultline raised an eyebrow. The girl in question perked up.

Neither of them protested.

Hopefully, her guilt wasn't about to get them all killed.

(X)(X)(X)

I think Xegzy likes you guys more than I do xD

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To the last, Kill them all

Jun 12, 2022

#4,549

Interlude: Christopher Gale

He woke up to weight on his chest, and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor.

He'd been in enough hospitals through his relatively short hero career to recognize that without the need to look.

He tried for several minutes to open his eyes. His inner voice dryly ordered him to open his eyes, but his body simply chose to ignore said inner voice.

When he finally did open his eyes there wasn't a harsh glare of light from an overhead bulb or the sun filtering in through his window. He opened his eyes to a fairly dark room. The light was off, and it wasn't sunlight coming in through his window but moonlight. And the weight on his chest was a hand.

It didn't take him long to find who the owner was of course. His eyes were already 'adjusted' to dark. It didn't even take him that long to recognize the silhouette.

When he opened his mouth to speak, he felt like he was dragging sandpaper across his throat. His word became a croak and the croak became a hacking cough which served to wake up the person beside him just as effectively.

"Chris?!"

His dad jerked, startled awake, and immediately turned on a light placed on the table beside his bed. Now the cliche glare of blinding light in the hospital hit the both of them. His dad blinked the glare away while Chris turned away entirely.

He was half dragged across the bed, his butt sliding over the sheets as his father pulled him into a hug while he was still trying to figure out what on earth was going on.

(X)

His parents stayed in the hospital with him. His mom had gone out to buy something from the vending machine when he had come to.

He asked them what had happened when he'd finally gotten his voice back after a few tall glasses of crystal clear water; but their answers had been… less than helpful. They tried to sugarcoat what they did know, namely the extent of his injuries. What they didn't know was… everything else.

So it was up to his less than stellar memory of the last time he'd been awake to try and piece it together. All he really remembered was being in pain. Heat. A lot of heat. He remembered not being able to breathe as he tried to scream.

Outside of that though… he remembered the prison, the riot. He'd been firing his lasers at the inmates, working on crowd control. He'd set them to 'knock out,' a setting that was comparable to getting hit by three tasers at once. He hadn't wanted to kill anyone. The authorization had come, of course. But that was one line he wasn't exactly eager to cross.

…

…

Taylor.. .something had happened to Taylor.

He needed his helmet. His helmet had a mounted camera. It would have recorded everything.

"Honey." His mom walked into the room, speaking to his dad. "Do you have any cash on you?"

"You heading down to the cafeteria?" She nodded. "I'll go. Stay here."

"Mom, Dad." He called looking up to them. "Can you lend me your phones? I need to call the others and find out what happened."

Neither of them looked angry… but neither did they seem overly pleased either.

They always did have their reservations about the dangers of being a cape. They even forbade him from being called out to fight Endbringers. This looked like it had just brought all those old fears roaring to the surface.

He'd worry about them later. For now, he had to find out what the hell happened.

(X)

The ones that came were Carlos, Missy, and Dennis. The others must be out on patrol. They said hi to his parents. His mother smiled. His dad was… not as warm.

"Hey, Chris." Carlos smiled.

"Hey Cap." Chris saluted from bed.

"How you feeling?"

"Fine. I just want to leave at this point." Chris groaned. "I can't just sit here while you guys are out there." He sniped, words meant more for his parents than for them.

"It's a miracle you're alive." His dad said softly, arms crossed. "You're not going out there for a while if I have any say."

A silence fell over the room, and he half wanted to argue and plead with his dad, but he had that look in his eye. He would argue right back and he didn't call his friends in to have them listen to a shouting match.

"Would you kids like something to drink?" His mom finally asked.

"No thanks."

"I'm good.

"What exactly happened?" Asked Chris, looking up at Carlos.

Carlos opened his mouth then stopped. "How much do you remember?"

He shrugged. "Nothing much. If I don't remember by the time I get back to my rooms on base, I'll look through my helmet recording. It was digital, transmitted to my laptop, so it should have survived the damage. "

Carlos looked around and finally found a chair to pull up. Dennis walked back and leaned against the door, blocking it. "Well… you were caught in an explosion. We had to-"

"Put me in a coma. I know. I heard a lot of this already. What happened with the prison? The villains, the prisoners?"

Carlos looked down, his lips pursing. He worked his jaw as if trying to get the words out.

"Chris…" He looked to his parents and finally seemed to find a way out. "I can't say right now… it's classified."

It was all he could do to not palm his face in sheer frustration. "Alright, then get me the hell out of here, back to base, and then you can talk!"

"You're not going anywhere with them.""

Kyle-"

"Dad!"

His father turned and looked at the Wards, in turn, ignoring the both of them. "No offense meant to any of you. I'll ask nice. Leave. Chris won't be going back to the base with you today. Probably never again."

His heart dropped into his stomach. "You-what!? You can't do that!"

"Watch me." The man all but bit out. Then turned back to his teammates. His friends. "He ends up nearly killed. You people won't tell us a damn thing. You tell your director to stay away from all of us. Do I make myself clear?"

Carlos cringed… but didn't argue.

(X)

It took three days.

Three days of constant arguing, pleading. Angry voices raised through their house after they got back. His father would shout right back at him, as furious as if it had been the first day after he'd woken up.

He never threatened to hit him. Perhaps the both of them recognized the absurdity of such a threat. He'd faced a lot worse than his dad with a belt.

But his dad could shout with the best of them. And the one time he'd tried going to base despite his protests, the guards had practically turned him away at the door and driven him back.

His father argued with him, with the agents, with Piggot and Militia when they'd called. The only one that seemed to be on his side in this was his mother.

And Chris couldn't stand it!

The answers he wanted were right there. But with his dad trying to pull him out of the Wards the information was classified to him now!

His recording, helmet, and laptop with the data were confiscated til the situation was resolved, his friends that were still out there, still fighting, still doing their jobs couldn't talk to him!

His dad couldn't keep him here!

It was on the third day that he found himself sitting on the couch, watching the news, his 'civilian' laptop was in his lap, trying to find out anything he could through normal channels. So far all he'd managed to find was very general.

The prison had been attacked, burned to the ground, too many casualties. Prisoners were being hauled off to out of town penitentiaries with no facility available in the bay that could hold them long term. Wards and Heroes were injured, no names were on record or offered.

The only new things he'd found out was that, in addition to the Undersiders, the Travelers, and Faultline's crew, a new Parahuman had been on the scene.

While every story was that the PRT was refusing to comment, the news had pieced it together themselves.

Apparently, all of the aforementioned villains along with this 'plus one' were the ones that had caused the damage in the joint attack. He remembered well enough that they'd been winning the battle before he got taken out. So whoever this person that joined the villains in the attack had been, he was the one that was responsible for hurting all his friends.

There was also the fact that Legend had transferred into the Bay.

'The' Legend.

Honestly, if his dad didn't change his mind about enrolling him in the Wards again soon he was gonna start cannibalizing the things around the house for tinker gear in protest.

His dad's car would go first…

There was a knock at the door, Chris jerked, slightly startled. He hadn't heard or seen anyone pull up to the house. He looked out the window to the driveway, only his mom's car and his dad's, no one on the street.

He heard his mom move from wherever she was in the house, passing him by in the living room and moving towards the door.

He heard his mom open the door. Then heard it crack shut.

He blinked.

"Mom?"

Three more raps on the door.

If it was an attacker, it was evidently a very polite one.

He moved the laptop off of his lap and got off the couch as he heard the door open again.

He rounded the corner. "Who's at the-"

He must have been staring like a slack-jawed idiot.

Legend is standing on my front porch.

The, no pun intended, legendary Hero was standing at his door, a gentle smile on his face as he tilted his head to look around the edge of the door where Chris' mom had just opened it again after slamming it in his face.

Oh god. Mom just slammed the door in Legend's face!

"May I come in?"

(X)

Minutes later, they were sitting at the dining room table. Legend opted for coffee. His dad had come down from upstairs and was sitting next to his mom. Chris was sitting next to Legend.

"Well, this doesn't happen every day." Dad spoke, his tone carefully neutral.

He wasn't happy.

"I know right." Legend chuckled. "I had the door slammed in my face for the first time."

His mother flushed beet red in embarrassment.

"I am so sorry, I was just… you. It's You… and… you startled me…"

"It's fine Mrs. Gale." Legend's smile was kind. Chris wondered if he'd practiced it like he'd heard Colin had done in order to seem more approachable on camera.

Then those thoughts were banished as Legend turned his attention toward him. "So, Christopher is it?"

"Yes sir?" Chris replied, sitting ramrod straight in his chair.

"Mind if I call you Chris?"

"You can call me anything you want…"

His dad grunted.

"Well let's not beat around the bush." The leader of the protectorate turned his gaze back toward his father. "I would like Chris to return to the Wards, Mr. Gale."

"That's not happening!" His Dad snarled. "He almost got killed taking part in one of your operations! I've almost half the mind to leave and go to Spokane!"

Chris blinked.

Did his dad just make up a country?

"I understand your reservations, Mr. Gale, believe me. I know that in your shoes I'd be furious as well. But heroes, Ward and Protectorate both, will someday get into life-threatening situations. I regret deeply that Chris was in such a situation-"

"Your regret won't mean a damn thing to me if he's dead."

"But all this course of action does is replace a group of risks for an entirely different group of risks. Christopher is still a tinker, Mr. Gale. He's still a valuable cape for any of the many groups in the Bay that could try to coerce him to work for them. That risk hasn't changed."

"Then maybe we should move."

"Kyle I think-" Dad gave Mom a glare.

"No. We already talked about this Reina!"

His dad looked at Legend again, glaring. "If I have to pick between moving out to the ass-end of nowhere or losing my son. You damn well know the answer I'm gonna pick. "

Legend took a breath.

For a long moment; the leader of the protectorate didn't speak. Letting the silence stretch.

"I have a ten-year-old son." He admitted. "My biggest fear is that one day… I'll wake up and he'll tell me at some point during the day. 'Dad. I've got powers.'"

He leaned forward in his chair, looking at his father "Now there are laws and there are rules. Checks and balances that we put in place to try and protect them and in this instance… those checks and balances weren't enough to fully protect your son. And for that, I am truly sorry."

He paused, letting the words sink in. "Now if you want to pull him out of the Wards you can do that. If you want to move from the Bay, you can do that too. I wouldn't even blame you. But I guarantee you, sir… there is nowhere in the world that you can move. No place that you can keep Chris or people you can hand him to that will ever have those same checks and balances that we have. The same kind of concern for his safety. Nowhere that can keep away the inherent danger of being a cape like the Protectorate. I can promise you that."

His father sneered. "That's a nice speech. But your checks and balances deal. All of it is just a sales pitch. My son was laying there for three days in that hospital bed. The list of internal injuries is enough to turn someone's stomach and you want me to just hand him back over to you, huh? Just like that? Pretend nothing happened?"

"No." He answered. "I have a son. So I know that. I wouldn't let someone walk out that door with him after all this. Not right now. All I'm asking is that you think about this. Think about it once. Then again. And then when you're sure what you want to do. No matter what it is, whether it's leaving or staying or letting him come back to the Wards, no matter what, when you're sure; you stop and think about it again…"

"What would you do." His dad suddenly spoke up. "If you were sitting here, right now, and you were in my shoes. And Eidolon walks through that door and gives you this little speech. What answer would you give him?"

Legend shifted in his seat. "I probably wouldn't give him one." He said, then offered a tentative smile. "I'd honestly be too busy trying not to just punch him in the face."

His dad, for the first time in three days, cracked the smallest of smiles.

(X)

When he finally- Finally -returned to the PRT HQ as a Ward it was almost a slap of ice-cold water to the face.

Nearly half the PRT forces were dead or wounded. Rory was dead. Brendan was dead, and Armsmaster was out of commission, probably permanently. Sophia had been butchered, nearly burned alive like he was.

And Taylor…

He hadn't believed it when they told him.

He still didn't.

Even as he sat down and watched the security videos that showed what he and the rest of the world thought to be some new villain tearing through the Protectorate heroes and the PRT, he still didn't believe it.

The 'New Villain' Surtr, was Taylor?

It didn't make any sense…

How could this have happened?

He shook his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "This can't be right."

"It is," Carlos answered sadly. "I wish it wasn't… but it is. She killed over a hundred normals, most of them were PRT, and police officers. The rest were the prisoners."

He continued to shake his head. "You're wrong. Has to be something else… she's not a murderer!"

Carlos didn't answer. Just… looked at him sadly, willing him to accept what was being shown on these videos. "Chris. We don't know what exactly happened. But… if she found out who Sophia was and lost it… or if Coil used some Master in their hijacked comms then… you have to understand that… if or when you see her again she might not be the same Taylor."

"She was never that strong!" He protested, the argument was laughably weak after he said it aloud.

Taylor's power was reactionary. Emotion based given all the tests they'd run.

Either of those things could explain something like this if the power thought she was in sufficient danger or her emotions got out of hand.

But Taylor wouldn't be a murderer… she wasn't a murderer. She was his friend.

He turned and walked away before he said or did something stupid. Walking down the hall with his hands in his pockets.

All around he saw custodians and professional workers work on repairing the walls, windows, and floors. Over a week since the prison raid… a week and they were only just recovering. The Ward from New York, Flechette, had arrived. He hadn't met her yet. Probably out around the Bay getting used to the environment and knowing the critical areas.

…

He hadn't helped one bit in this whole mess. Hadn't even lifted a finger. Even Vista was using her power to help in the recovery efforts. Her control over space allowing the work crews to make progress twice or three times as fast in several areas. Carlos, Dean, Dennis, now Flechette. All out, on patrol. Doing their part.

Him?

He was stuck in a bed, then with his father bitching for almost a week and throwing a fit.

Meanwhile his friends were getting hurt with no time to recover.

Fucking useless.

He was probably the weakest out of all the Wards. Carlos had regenerative abilities, flight, and super strength and speed. Missy could bend space like play-doh. Dennis could save people or trap anyone with a touch. Dean could change emotions and be a lie-detector. Sophia could phase through anything, and Taylor was the strongest of them all.

What did he have?

Simple laser pistols, a helmet with some classic functions, and a hoverboard.

He was a Tinker without a specialty. A ward who could barely focus on one project long enough to finish. A guy who could make an anti-grav hoverboard but could barely figure out high school algebra!

He arrived in the cafeteria and walked through the lane, no one else was present. He got his meal: steak and a boiled potato with a side salad, and sat down.

Looking down at his food. Chris ate little, and dis so mechanically. He felt someone sit next to him and didn't look up.

"You hanging in there, Kid?" Chris turned his head, and practically jumped when he was greeted with white and blue.

"Oh. Legend sir… W-What are you doing here?!" He fumbled over his own tongue.

"Even the Triumvirate need food every now and then." He answered, smiling.

The man gripped his plastic cutlery and proceeded to start eating. Mashed potatoes and chicken with string beans.

"Kid." Legend began. "Would you mind if I ask you something?"

"Ummm. Sure." He answered somewhat tentatively.

"The other day, we managed to access your helmet feed." He said. "Have you seen it?"

Chris blinked. "Umm, no, actually. I was… kind of catching up with what the rest of the team's been doing."

Legend nodded. "Well, shortly before the ahhh… explosion. Our technicians caught… sounds.

He blinked. "Sounds?"

Legend tilted his head pausing mid-chew. "You don't remember?" He asked after he swallowed.

He shook his head.

"Hmm." The man cut a piece of his chicken. "Well, let's finish eating, and I'll show you."

Chris practically inhaled his food after that.

As soon as they were done

Legend walked with him down to the evidence room, using a brand new clearance card to open the doors with a sharp beep.

"Legend- sir." Chris recognized one of the lab engineers. Tod. He was a nice guy, helped Chris on one or two occasions when he needed to bounce ideas, and Armsmaster had been too busy.

"Tod." Legend greeted with a nod. "I'm wondering if you might boot up Chris' recording. Perhaps he might be able to clear some of the sound issues since it is his software.

"Yes, sir."

Tod offered him a smile, turning towards his own computer.

After a few clicks, the sound file came up.

Chris panned his eyes around the room, spotting some of his destroyed gear and winced at the half-melted hunks of slag he could see that most of his suit had been turned into.

With an adjustment to the timer the video was fast forwarded. He looked at the length… seven minutes, fourty two seconds. That's all it had taken from the moment he put his helmet on to the… wnd.

He remembered most of it. And he was glad Legend didn't make him watch it again.

When he saw the prison yard bus hit Taylor like a train he felt his heart stop all over again.

She should be dead as far as his eyes told him.

Legend let the video play.

Dauntless called out to him. He didn't remember that. He didn't remember flying across the prison, entering the torn up building.

He certainly didn't remember hearing any 'sounds' after that which would need to be cleared up.

He was calling out to Taylor, sifting through the rubble. Trying to find her.

Then he heard the sounds.

The voice.

His features scrunched.

"That's just the raw sound in the video." Tod said. "I've cleaned it up. But Tinkertech doesn't like to get fiddled with as you know."

A few firm keystrokes-

"This is what I got"

The background noise was gone. The crackling of flames. The distant cacophony of fighting. Gunshots, screams.

That meant the chill that crawled down his spine was wholly because of the voice he heard itself.

WelcomEdarling.etoMe.I'vewAitedsolongforyou..

Tod paused it turning to him. "This!" He gestured to the paused sound bite. "We've heard before. Or at least something similar.

He pressed a few more keys and a second sound file was booted up, the comparison on frequency and pitch matching…mostly.

"It says a ninety percent match." He pointed out.

Tod nodded. "That is what we've been hearing from Ashburn's idols. The whispering once it's blown up enough.

"So why the discrepancy?" He asked. "Was my gear faulty?"

"Far as we can tell, no," Tod answered. "There's just… something there. Just under the surface. I'm hoping you can work on your tech to give us a better idea of what exactly we're missing.

Chris hummed. "Play it again, please.

Welcomedarling.eqUickly.Letmesurroundyou.Letmesurroundyou.I'veWaitedsolongforyou.Wherewereyou?OhItdoesn'tmatter.AsloNgasyou'rehEredaughter!Hopeless.Hopeless.BlindwithdespairMylittlelove.

His expression shifted. Moving to grab a chair he brought it close.

There was something here. He could hear it.

He played it again.

WelcomedarLing.equickly.LetmEsurroundyou.LetmesurrounDyou.I'vewaItedsolongforyou.WhErewereyou?OhitdoeSn'tmatTer.AslongasyOu'reheredaughter!HoPeless.HoPeless.BLindwithdEspAirmylittlelove.

He stared, stupefied.

The… recording is changing?

He reached for the charred remains of his helmet.

Staring at the blackened, half-melted husk…

He got to work.

When he came to… he was gripping Legend's arms, the older man holding him down where he'd fallen.

"Are you ok son?" The man asked worriedly.

Chris' helmet was a smoking ruin on the floor, the smell of burnt wires coating the air like incense.

He blinked and swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I… yeah… yeah I think so…"

The worried look in the hero's eyes showed just how much he believed him.

"Come on son… let's get you out of here. I shouldn't have brought you down to see this."

"Sir," Tod called. "I don't know what Chris did, but looks like he gave us a bit of sound data from the remains of the helmet feed.

Legend perked up. "Play it please."

Tod clicked it to start.

You win…

Chris felt his breath hitch.

"That's Taylor's voice." He found himself saying.

You win Emma.

The Protectorate hero frowned.

Just… just let me die.

Chris felt his heart stutter to a stop in his chest.

What did she say?

Just let me die… please.

The beginning of the explosion was caught before the feed abruptly died.

Legend looked grim.

"I've heard the name, Emma." Legend admitted darkly. "It was in Taylor's files."

"She never talked about her past much. Chris mumbled. "I… I don't know any Emma. She never-"

"Don't worry son." Legend's hand clasped his shoulder "You did good. And even if Emma isn't involved we know at least how she was attacked." He gave a firm nod. "I'll be sending this recording to the Think Tank." He sighed. "With it, they should be able to more definitively determine whether Master influence was at play or not"

Chris nodded.

He trusted Legend. It was Legend after all.

But there was a name there.

…

Taylor recognized who was hurting her.

(X)(X)(X)

Ok. Imma be honest here.

Of all the rewritten chapters that I've posted here.

This one is the closest "posted" chapter that I'm legit see-sawing on eliminating outright. I might STILL end up deleting it later down the line if I find a "better way" to explain this later.

The ONLY REASON this chap exists is 2fold.

Firstly because I need the Wards to know Emma's name (in the context that "she" has aparently driven Taylor to suicide) and for someone from the PRT to go pay her a visit to ask "Hey where were you on the night a giant black ball of "fuck you" punched us in the face?"

The second and far more important reason is that I like the scene of Chris' father threatening to punch Legend in the face.

But seriously this chap is VERY close to the chopping block and depending on how things shape up in future chapters it might still get lobbed off.

Anywho. Next chaps we're getting back to Taylor.

...

...

Oh boy

Last edited: Jun 12, 2022

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Ld1449

Jun 12, 2022

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Ld1449

To the last, Kill them all

Jun 23, 2022

#4,649

3.3

The dark… stirs

I lay still.

I didn't need to move.

I didn't want to move.

There was no reason to move.

The dark was cold. Quiet. Peaceful.

I felt my thoughts drift away. And even the pain and anguish spearing my insides seemed at ease in the smothering black.

My mind was still here.

My heart was soothed here.

…

I would stay here…

There was nothing for me anywhere else…

I closed my eyes.

(X)(X)(X)

The dark stirs

My eyes open.

I feel a brush against my cheek. A ghostly caress on my skin. So faint, so faint it's barely there.

But it is there.

It feels like the kiss of the wind, down in this dark and empty place.

I hear sounds in the air. Like I'm listening through water.

I could follow them. Search for the sounds.

I don't move.

Why should I?

(X)(X)(X)

When I wake for the third time, my eyes barely crack open.

The sounds are closer now. The voices bleeding into this still and peaceful place.

"-nsane!"

"Thi-... -rice."

"Not-... -ing worth-"

Closer.

Closer still.

The dark stirs

"Shh! Shh! Shut up!"

…"Shit! It's waking up!"

"The fuck do you mean it's waking up!? What's waking up!"

"Dammit! Shut up and help me!"

I feel hands grab hold of me, fingers and flesh burning hot over cold skin. I try to pull away, I don't have the strength.

I hear footsteps. Heavy. Metal on stone. A snarl. Heat.

"No, no! Hurry! He's coming!"

"Who!"

"Surtr!"

"Elle! Elle, we've got her!"

The hands are pulling, more of them, too many. I squirm, I try to scream and struggle, but they're stronger. Pulling me farther away.

Then I'm somewhere else.

The Dark recedes.

I gasp, sucking down air like it's the first breath I've taken in an age; arms are wrapped around me, a warm body clutching me tightly as my hands paw at foreign arms, scents sights and sounds hammering into my head with a lance of pain.

I shut my eyes. But the noise is shrill, the night air is cold, and the gravel on the floor hurts.

"Jesus, she looks half dead."

I don't recognize the voice. It's male. Not my dad. Too young.

"Her power sustained her. But no food. No water."

"Damn."

Someone else is there, hands on my face. I look or try to. A woman, dark hair, for an instant I wonder if it's mom.

No!

The thought cuts through the meat of my brain like a lance. I feel the dark stirring.

The woman brings a water bottle to my lips, and I'm too weak to push it away as she forces my mouth open to try and get me to drink.

I choke and sputter. The water feels ice cold. Too cold. It burns even as it soothes a thirst I didn't even realize I had until then.

I don't listen to whatever else they say. Their voices rise and fall like the tide.

I sleep.

(X)(X)(X)

My thoughts are foggy when I come to, half caught in the fugue of sleep and drugs.

The voices are distant, indistinct. I don't recognize them.

"-was never part of the deal, Wilbourne!"

A woman's voice. An angry hiss under her breath.

I look around. The room is simple, a bed, a night table, there's a television on the wall but its turned off. Drawers on the side. It's lived in. It doesn't have the feel of a guest room.

"I told you I needed La- Elle. What'd you think I needed her help with bringing back groceries!"

There's an IV in my arm. The needle and length of plastic tubing providing a steady drip. I don't know nearly enough to know what's being pumped into me right now.

"She's a walking bomb! This plan is dangerous enough without- Fucking christ! This is why I hate working with you!"

There's a moment of silence beyond the wall, I shift where I lay. It takes effort. Too much effort.

I feel weak. Drained.

"I couldn't leave her down there."

The girl talking with the woman mumbles. Her voice is so quiet I barely catch it.

Are they talking about me?

It feels like it. I struggle to remember what they've said already.

"Why the hell not!"

I hear the sound of a door opening.

The voice that speaks this time is male. Young, I think. I'm not sure.

"Got the info- and the disguises. How'd you even get these without anyone noticing?"

"Patience. And a lot of bribes." The younger girl answers. Then I hear her sigh "Look Fitts, this is… this is bad all round, alright. She… didn't deserve any of it. Let me start getting things… sorted here with her and by tonight we can go over the first steps on actually getting payback alright?"

…

"Jesus, I hate you. Elle's staying here. Just… just incase. Don't fuck this up, Wilborne. Elle's one of mine

"I… Than-"

"Don't. Really. Don't. Four days. You say you can pull this off, so let's pull this off. Just don't let her… fucking blow up a goddamn city block for four days, ok?"

"Yeah… yeah, ok."

"... Jesus… this one really is personal for you, isn't it?"

I don't hear much more. I think the woman's leaving, voices growing distant, quieter.

I let my eyes close.

(X)(X)(X)

I wake to the sound of the door opening. Light filters into the shadowed room from the hallway.

There was a girl there, a blonde with bottle-green eyes.

She smiled. But it's not real. I can see that. She's… afraid?.

"Hi there." She said, stepping forward, closer.

I look away… I'm not sure why- eyes cast downward towards the mattress.

"Hey. Hey," She inched forward, her voice almost a whisper, hands held out. "It's ok, you're ok now…"

No. No, I'm not..

The girl's hands wrung together, I looked and found her gnawing on her lower lip.

My mouth opened.

"Who are you?" I rasp. My voice is dry. My throat is worse. I cough

She winced, moving quickly for a glass of water I hadn't noticed was waiting for me. "Ahh… my name's Lisa. You… I… found you. Brought you home."

"Why?" I croaked. Before I get the straw between my lips and swallow a mouthful. "Why are you doing this?

I'm not an expert. But IV bags aren't cheap. Cops, Hospitals… PRT- Those are cheaper.

She was close now, close enough to hesitantly sit on the bed. As though asking for permission without outright saying so.

The bed dipped under her weight. I saw her hesitate again before slowly reaching forward, her hand gripping mine.

"You… needed help." She mumbled.

"That's not why." I made a sound. It took me a second to recognize it as a laugh. I saw her wince. She must have heard how wrong it sounded too.

"School didn't help, laws didn't help…"I dredged up what strength I had to stare at her. A look that made her shut her eyes tight. "-heroes don't help… I- think I've had enough of lying." Somehow, I make my voice sound firm. "So tell me-" I insist. "Tell me what you wanted my power for- it's all I seem to be worth anyhow."

She shook her head, and when her other hand reached forward, it gripped my hands so tightly it hurt.

"Your life is… You're worth more than your power! You're worth more than crawling down into a dark place and letting yourself die."

I laughed again. And again, it came out wrong. I feel tears stinging my eyes. "You… almost sound like Miss Militia. Wasn't true then either." Again I saw her wince, and I stared up into bottle-green eyes. "Just tell me-" It takes me a second to remember her name. "-Lisa."

"I… want to save you" Her voice was almost lost in the quiet of the room.

The quiet lingers. It stretches and pulls, lengthens, and hangs heavy in the air.

"I wanted to be a hero too' I don't say.

I see her eyes flash an expression of determination coming over her before she gets off the bed, kneeling at the side so she and I are at eye level.

"Coil." She says.

I feel my heart stutter in its steady beat.

"He's the villain that did all this." She says, green eyes now burning like embers, a sneer on her lips that twists her features into something ugly. "He… hurt you. I know. I'm a thinker. It's what I do. It lets me know things. So I can see it Taylor. I can see what he did. I have a plan to beat him. I have a plan to take him down. For good this time. Once I do that… Once I do that, everything can get better ok? Everything. Four days. Just… Just give me four days, please! It… Isn't it worth holding on? Four days… its nothing. Your life is worth that much right? If everything gets better again!?"

"And if it doesn't?" I ask. "Coil… he did all this. But she was there. Sophia was there. He wasn't lying to me about that. The heroes… Miss Militia-" Again, I feel my eyes burn even as I try to force them back down.

Lisa's eyes clench shut.

"Please!" There's begging in her voice now, and both her hands are gripping my fingers in a tremulous grip. "You don't have to do anything… just- four days. That's all, and then I promise- things can be better again!"

She's looking at me- staring with so much emotion it hurts.

I sob. "Why do you care!?"

"Because." She smiles, though her lips can't quite make the expression. "If I didn't care… then I think I should've pulled the trigger myself."

I feel my eyes widen, staring at this girl as she cries beside my bed.

She sniffles. Wiping at her eyes. "I had a choice… I had a choice, and I chose to live. And if I don't care when I see you… when I see someone else going through this… then I made the wrong fucking choice."

"What happened?" I mumble, face half buried in the pillow. "What made you want to pull the trigger?"

She sniffles. Staring at me with red, puffy eyes.

"I'll tell you…" She nods, determination again in the lines of her face. "One day- one day I'll tell you everything. I promise…" Her lips form a thin line. "But you need to be here for it." She demands. "You need to be here. Both of us were hurt by Coil." She nods. "And I'm not going to let him win. He didn't beat me. He doesn't get to beat you either. Promise me."

Her hands are shaking, fingers clenching so tight they're hurting her more than me.

I don't know her. I don't know anything about her…

…

…

Is it so stupid… to hope that just one fucking person might actually care?

(X)(X)(X)

Spoiler: Changelog

My thanks go out to Xegzy for his work on the chap :D

This chapter physically *fought* me.

It got up, off the screen and tried to shank me with my fountain pen.

I went through several tries. But none of them really "clicked."

Before anyone gets their panties in a twist that Lisa didn't say exactly the "right things" I will remind everyone that A) Lisa is quite emotional right now herself. and B) The "best way" for Taylor to be helped right now would be for someone to tell Taylor exactly what happened that night. But given that if she just comes out with "Hey I'm the voice in the headset" MIGHT lead to her, her apartment and her apartment building being on fire- well... Its quite understandable as to why she's holding back on that particular subject. And even if she WANTED to throw herself on Taylor's mercy, doing so NOW would likely lead to Coil getting away with everything. Not exactly a "winning plan"

Anywho, next chapter SHOULD be significantly longer, Hope you all enjoyed :)

Last edited: Jun 24, 2022

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Jun 23, 2022

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Ld1449

To the last, Kill them all

Jul 1, 2022

#4,709

Emma Barnes:

Emma's world was one she barely recognized anymore..

Emma was someone she barely recognized anymore.

She moved through her days as best she could.

Forcing one foot in front of the other. Forcing herself to keep moving. To keep listening. To keep doing what she was supposed to do. What she had to do. What she needed to do.

It was hard. Harder than she ever thought things could be.

At first… she thought it was hard because… it was a pain. An annoyance.

Watching the arguments. Listening to the cops. The lawyers. Hearing her mother's disappointment.

But that wasn't pain… not really.

That was just more of her selfishness. More of… whatever inside of her that was broken.

Pain didn't come immediately.

The first crack. The first real lance of something that hurt- something that the shattered pieces of who she'd once been legitimately felt… came from her mother.

"So I guess I should just toss you into an ABB alley? They're strong, right? They get to survive! You don't!"

The words hurt. The thought hurt.

Not the possibility. No. Her mother… Mom wouldn't do that. No matter how angry she got she- She wouldn't do that.

No. The thought that hurt… was the implication.

Emma wasn't the brightest girl. She could admit that. But…

It didn't take a genius to make the logical leap from her mother's words.

If she were tossed in an ABB alley… she wasn't a Predator there.

There she was, prey. Again.

And as much as a part screamed at her that she wasn't prey. That she wasn't weak. That she'd fight. Just like last time- another, growing part told her it wouldn't matter.

That growing part of her, becoming ever louder and ever larger in the back of her mind, could finally be heard as it whispered:

That's not how the world works.

She ignored it. Pushed it down to the dark places in her thoughts. Shoved it into the blackened corners of her soul.

But she couldn't escape it.

It came. Larger, louder. After every night waking to horrid dreams of jeering leers and glinting knives pressing against her face, of hair strands in her mouth.

It came.

That hurt. But it wasn't pain.

Not yet.

Dr. Wilson spoke with her. Visited her. Every day.

Every day, eleven AM without fail.

He spoke. She screamed. He reasoned. She argued.

She pushed. He kept moving forward.

She can't tell you when it happened. She can't tell you or anyone what was said. Or what set it off.

She's not sure she remembers.

She's not sure she wants to.

It was like…

A dam.

A wall, somewhere in her mind, she'd built. Without even meaning to. Without even realizing.

The wall had been tall and thick and strong.

And that single crack, formed by the angry words of her mother all those months ago… somewhere, it widened.

It split and fissured and kept getting bigger; the pressure behind the wall kept growing heavier, even as Dr. Wilson chipped away with quiet, simple ease here and there.

It wasn't like a switch had been flipped. Nothing so simple, nothing so… clean.

It was one moment sitting across from Dr. Wilson… and she doesn't know what happened next.

She can't tell.

Somewhere… somewhere along the way she'd lost a week.

She'd been in the hospital. Strapped to a bed so she wouldn't hurt herself. Screaming. wailing. Spitting out cries of hate even as she howled her apologies.

She'd listened to a recording of herself.

Once.

She doubts she'd ever have the strength to bring herself to do it again.

Her mother cried. Her mother worried. She'd even called Dad and Sis. Desperate for someone to help.

She doesn't remember seeing either her sister or her father.

She doesn't even remember her mother

But soon the 'waters' crashing and heaving and falling out from behind that impregnable dam... settled, and she was spent, exhausted in every way imaginable.

Body. Mind. Soul.

She had nothing left.

There was no wall. There was no defense. And as the Emma obsessed with strength, and fear of victimhood drowned in the tide of memory and repressed reality, growing silent for at least a merciful fraction of an instant; The other. The one thrown back behind a wall, the one that had been drowning- screamed.

It wasn't like before. It wasn't the maddened flux between mania and hysteria.

This time, all she could do was cry.

She didn't remember everything. She couldn't remember everything.

Because there was just too much to remember.

The past two years crashed over the frail and feeble psyche of what had once been Emma Barnes, churning and spiraling into a thick, anomalous sludge of misery and pain.

Perhaps she would have drowned there all over again, retreated back into a place where pain couldn't reach her, rebuild the walls that had been torn down, stronger, better.

Because that would be easier.

Because a part of her preferred to die than face this. Face this reality.

Perhaps she should have died.

Let Emma Barnes die.

She'd hurt everyone and everything that mattered.

So it was only right wasn't it?

Let the bitter creature emerge. Let fear and pain and misery and bitterness and spite and a sheer desire to turn away win out…

It would be so much easier.

But Dr. Wilson was there. Her mother was there. Anne was there. Even her father was there. All of them. Like pulling a drowning, shivering man to an icy shore- they didn't let her drown.

That… That is the pain. That's where it truly begins.

The pain of remembering.

The pain of reading through the logs and listening to the recordings of her phone conversations.

Witnessing Taylor's journal.

Waking up every day, feeling the crushing, suffocating weight on her chest and knowing there are not enough lifetimes to change things back. There are not enough apologies in the world that can ever make Taylor trust her again.

She tries to drown out the misery, tries to push past the 'now, trying to remember what was… how it had been.

Those… those were good days.

Thirteen years.

Thirteen years…

And they're almost gone.

They're fading from her mind. She can feel it. Sand slipping through her fingers. Slipping away.

Not… Not because of the other Emma. Not because of the one silent and cold and dark now.

But because of her.

It's hard to remember.

Because in all of her memories… Taylor was smiling.

And Emma can't remember Taylor's smile anymore.

(X)(X)(X)

After pain, after heartache and guilt… there's something else.

Fear isn't the right word, but it's close, and worry is too small a thing to describe it.

The fear for her family cracked and broken as it is now. The fear for her mother who is trying to hold the world together around them even as she wonders whether she should mend bridges with her father.

Fear for herself.

Sophia is gone. Winslow is gone.

Who she was, the shields she had, are gone.

Dr. Wilson said many of those things were… unhealthy. Toxic coping mechanisms. But a part of her can't help but feel… weak and naked without them even if another part of her knows she's better off without them.

But most of all; scratching at the back of her mind-

Taylor.

She's not afraid of Taylor. There's no fear at the thought of her. There can't be.

If Taylor ever comes back and wants to hurt her… Emma can't be afraid of what she deserves.

But she is afraid when she thinks of Taylor.

Some days… she's afraid, worried. Wondering if the Wards are good for her. Good to her.

Sophia rarely had much good to say about any of them. Not the program, not Piggot, or Armsmaster, and not even her own teammates.

Then she remembers who Sophia is. What she was. And hopes that she's wrong. That they are good for Taylor. That they are good to her. That they're helping her. Protecting her from Sophia.

Some days… most days- She's afraid of what Taylor will say when they see each other again.

And they will.

They have to.

As afraid as she is, even Emma has to admit that she owes Taylor that much.

Other days she's afraid that will never happen. Afraid that the cruel, petty, spiteful thing that crawled out of that alley, so small and so frail… would just fade away. Disappear, like an unwanted dream in the chapters of Taylor's life.

And that thought… stupid and small as it is, makes her feel true fear.

Taylor is… in a lot of ways… in terrifying ways; Taylor is a large part of her world.

Perhaps the largest.

Beyond Sophia, her father, her mother, her sister, Winslow… she'd poured so much of herself in Taylor.

In building her up, in tearing her down, and now here… in this strange limbo where she hovers…

Taylor is like a sun. Hanging in the sky of her world, touching everything with her influence…

And the thought that Emma would be just a small mote of dust left behind… left alone before she could even try to make things right… So small that she'll just… fade away

Yes.

That scared her.

That terrified her.

She had to see her again.

As long as it took. However much time or effort she had to put in to make that happen.

She had to see her again.

Just once.

Even if she deserved to be forgotten; even if she deserved to fade away…

She just needed to see her one more time.

After that… after that, Taylor would tell her what to do, and Emma would do it.

Even if she told her to just… fade away.

(X)(X)(X)

"What's going on!?"

Her mother's voice startled Emma when she heard it.

She was in the living room, books and papers strewn about; Just because Winslow was gone didn't mean she could stop studying, something mom and dad both agreed on even now.

She could hear voices, her mother, men talking; though she couldn't quite make out the words.

She turned in her seat, looking over the rear of the couch and peeling away the curtains on the window.

There was a PRT van outside.

Emma felt her heart stutter in her chest.

She shut the textbook, work forgotten, as she stood up and marched over to the front door.

Mom was there, of course, but the surprise was that Assault, the Protectorate hero, was there as well.

Emma froze.

Her presence didn't go unnoticed. And following the gazes of the troopers, Zoe soon turned around as well.

Her mother wrung her hands together, looking worried, frightened.

Emma felt inexplicably guilty.

"Mom?" She asked.

"Emma." She breathed. "There's been… some sort of attack. The PRT needs to ask me some questions. Could you go to your room please until I finish honey?"

Emma's mind is a whirl, a thousand thoughts and explanations and fears rushing through her.

Taylor… Sophia.

Something happened.

Something bad must've happened.

She swallows. "I… Mom I-"

Her mother must sense her hesitation. Must sense that she wants to stay. Wants to know.

She smiles. It's a thin, tremulous thing on her lips.

"I promise sweetie, I'll let you know if its really important ok?"

She can't bring herself to argue. Not with mom. Not after everything she put her through.

She bows her head. Feeling guilty and afraid and helpless all over again.

"I'll… I'll grab my books." She mumbles miserably. She'll keep studying. It's the least she can do.

Trudging back towards the living room, she starts gathering her materials, her papers and textbooks.

She spies her cellphone.

The thought comes quick, like a flash of inspiration and the plan hatches in her mind immediately.

Mom wants to protect her, even now. Even after everything.

Emma knows this. She appreciates it from the bottom of her heart.

But she needs to know.

She has to know…

(X)(X)(X)

It's hours before the PRT leave. Dad came home, spoke with them next to mom.

There were no raised voices that she could hear. And after they left there weren't any shouts. There weren't any arguments.

She's glad.

She's still… distant with her father. As angry with him as she is with herself. But she's not glad for her. She's glad for mom.

Mom means the world to dad.

He made her happy once.

If dad coming back is good for mom, Emma doesn't want to spoil it.

She's spoiled enough people's happiness.

When mom calls her downstairs- Emma comes quickly.

And she sees.

Mom tries to hide it. Tries to put on a brave face.

But she's crying.

Her eyes are bloodshot. Her nose is puffy and red. Her recently washed face can't cover the tear tracts, and the hug she gives Emma is a tight squeeze, as though she's afraid her daughter will just disappear.

Dad doesn't look much better.

He looks haggard, his cheeks sunken and sallow. He's thinner now, with a messy stubble growing on his face.

When he looks at her, his eyes stare into her like a man being crushed by the weight of the world, and when he hugs her and mom, she doesn't protest.

She's afraid to ask what happened. And she can almost taste their fear in the air at the thought of telling her.

That night's dinner is a quiet, strained affair, even as Dad stays over for the first time in months, sleeping in the guestroom.

(X)(X)(X)

It's dark.

It's so very dark when she comes down from her room.

She doesn't sneak. Doesn't need to. There's no creaky floorboards. No tells in the house beyond the thump of her own feet, and she's wearing socks already.

She walks past the dining room towards the living room.

There, stuffed face down in the potted plant between the two spaces where Mom would most likely talk with the PRT agents, is her phone.

She grabs it.

The battery is dead by now. But it'd had enough charge that she knows it had been on for at least another two hours.

Quietly, she makes it up to her room.

Plugging in the phone, she waits for it to turn on. Her heart thumping in her chest. Her fingers growing clammy and sweaty even in the cold of the night.

She has to know.

The phone comes alive, and she quickly finds the recording app.

There. Unnamed file. 2:42:57

She clicks play.

For the first two minutes there's almost nothing but background noise, indistinct and unimportant and she's afraid she'd done nothing more than get a nearly three hour long recording of people moving around and muffled voices.

Then someone talks.

It's distant, a little staticky. But she understands.

"Ma'am, I would appreciate if you let us ask your daughter these questions."

She's not sure who's speaking. Assault or a trooper. But she thinks it's Assault. Why send him if he wasn't going to talk?

When her mother answers its with a voice that's equal parts wavering but firm.

"Please… Emma is. Fragile right now. Her doctor says she's making good progress but I'm afraid… any news of Taylor being hurt might- do something to her too."

Emma feels her heart lurch.

Taylor…

Taylor was hurt.

"... I understand ma'am. I'm not here to browbeat you or force anything."

"I… My husband was on his way today. Would it be alright if we waited for him? I don't want to inconvenience you but… I really would feel more comfortable if he were here to help me with this."

"Not a problem ma'am. I know without my wife I'd barely be able to tie my shoes in the morning. She'll tell you too!"

Her mother laughs. More at ease, if only just.

"Can I offer you anything? Water, Juice, coffee?"

"Coffee sounds really good right about now ma'am"

The recording continues. Minutes passing by as mom goes off to make coffee. Waiting for dad.

She wants to fast forward but is too afraid she'll miss something important.

Before long, she hears movement again, Mom, dad, Assault, the agents. It takes everyone a little bit to return to the living room.

"For the time being, this is just an inquiry to rule your daughter out as a suspect."

"Why is she even a suspect!"

That's dad's voice now. Mom is right behind him. Stopping him.

"Alan."

When Assault answers… it's polite. But pointed. Directed.

"You know why, Mr. Barnes."

Emma whimpers even here, removed entirely from the conversation. The look that must've been in the Hero's eye.

It's ok... She reminds herself.

She deserves it.

"I… look. Ever since Winslow my daughter hasn't been within a hundred yards of Ms. Hebert. We've signed all your NDA's we've jumped through every hoop. I'm not trying to be combative here-" She was pretty sure that was meant more for Mom than Assault. "but if my daughter's previous actions; actions for which I'll remind you she undertook during a period of compromised mental capacity as judged by a court of law and for which she is receiving psychological treatment as per the judgment of that court; I'm afraid I must push for this to be dropped unless there's something new that brought this on or I will consider it harassment. If there is something new, then we will, of course, cooperate fully."

More movement. Hushed conversations. Whispers. Apparently deciding how much to say.

What happened to Taylor?

As stated, there was an attack on Ms. Hebert. The… details I'm afraid I can't get into, but there is a recording that will likely bring into context why we're here. Before you listen to it, I will need you to both sign NDA's and sign for Emma as well as her legal guardians. Once that's done, I can make my official questions that should help clear your daughter if she was uninvolved in this.

"Not saying we won't but what happens if we don't sign?"

"Then I walk out that door. And the next visit will likely be with a much less friendly investigator."

She could hear her father's slow, pained exhale even from here.

"Alright… give us the NDA's to read please."

More time passed. Riffling papers. A few muted questions.

Then it was time.

"Before I playback the recording, I would like to ask you both to keep calm and remember that at this time, we are merely ruling things out. Not laying blame."

"Please, sir… " Her mother's voice. "let's just… let's just hear it?"

A pause… then-

The first thing she hears is a strange static.

It takes her a moment to realize it's not static.

It's fire.

"Shut… shut up. Shut up! They… "

Her heart lurches in her chest.

That's Taylor's voice.

Pain.

Taylor's in pain.

There's a pause… then a sound. Emma can't recognize it. But it makes her eyes water, the phone becoming blurry in her hands.

"I want to go home…"

Emma's fingers hurt. She's gripping her phone in a white-knuckled grip.

Someone… Someone is doing this. Someone is hurting Taylor.

"Please…stop!"

Sophia? The other Wards? A villain?

Stop it! Stop! She's-

"You win Emma…"

Emma Barnes goes utterly still.

"You win…"

No. No. No. That's not-

"Taylor." Emma's voice croaks out of her. Fingers pawing at the screen. Trying to call out to a voice that can't hear her.

"That's what you've wanted right?"

"Taylor, no! No! Tay! It's not me! It's not me! I'm sorry!!! Taylor!"

She's screaming now. She's screaming and she can hear the thumps of footfalls in the hall. Lights flicking on.

"Emma! Emma!"

She's not sure which of her parents is calling her name. Her whole focus, her entire world is right in front of her, held in this phone, her voice beaten and hurt in ways Emma had never achieved.

"You win,"

She's shaking her head, rocking back and forth, hands now clasped in a mockery of prayer, the phone gripped tight in her fists.

Please. Please.

"You're strong!"

She's not sure if she's thinking it or saying it.

"You're strong. You're strong! You're so much stronger, so much better, so much more than me! Please. Please pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

"Just… let me die."

Emma stops.

She stares forward. Her father smacks the phone out of her hand, pulling her into his arms! Mom is there, falling onto her knees, hands gripping Emma's face, calling to her.

Emma stares into her mother's eyes and screams.

Her voice is shrill and keening.

"I killed her!"

"Taylor!"

Her eyes burn. She can't breathe even as she finds the air to scream.

"Taylor I'm sorry! Taylor please- Don't leave me! I didn't mean it! Please Taylor don't leave me- I'm sorry!"

Her hands reach for her mother, scratching, clawing, pulling her close, hugging her so tight it hurts.

Her mother holds her. Holds her and rocks her. Dad is behind her, rubbing her shoulders, sitting behind her.

They're here. They're here.

But they're not Taylor.

She wants Taylor.

She wants her sister.

"Please… please Taylor I'm sorry!"

She howls into the dark.

…

The dark...

Stirs.

(X)(X)(X)

Spoiler: Changelog:

Originally this chapter wasn't supposed to come out right now. There were supposed to be a few chapters simply revolving around Taylor and Lisa, not interludes. But given that I *detest* Flashbacks and won't do them even by bullshit proxy the last chance for this chapter to emerge is right around now-ish unless I wanna dip my toe into a continuity mess two or three chapters down.

Spoiler: Emma's diagnosis

Hope you all enjoyed :)

Last edited: Jul 1, 2022

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Ld1449

Jul 1, 2022

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Ld1449

Ld1449

To the last, Kill them all

Jul 4, 2022

#4,912

3.4

It didn't take long to understand how this Lisa girl planned to take down Coil.

She's a thinker; she told me that; it lets her figure out things.

Like where Empire and ABB stash houses were. Or how the Protectorate was responding. What to say on the phone to make them respond.

Coil wasn't like the other gangs, she explained. He didn't keep stash houses or dog fighting rings, casinos, whore houses.

No. That wasn't Coil.

But the Protectorate was angry.

Legend was here.

And with the Protectorate angry and Legend being here, the gangs were getting angry too.

None of them wanted Legend here. None of them wanted this much heat, not even Lung. None of them wanted to risk facing off against the Triumvirate member. None of them wanted to risk losing, and Legend could beat them.

Every single one of them.

So they wanted him gone. They wanted the pot to stop boiling over.

So Lisa was instead getting it ready to explode.

I understood

Get the gangs angry enough- and they wouldn't go after Legend. No. Hurting him would make things so much worse.

They'd just go and rip out the problem from the root.

Coil.

I understood.

I listened.

I watched.

And I tried to make myself care past this empty… numb feeling.

There was another girl here. Her name was Elle; she was quiet, almost subdued.

But she gave me tea every morning. Sat with me when Lisa was busy.

Neither of them left me alone.

I'm not sure how Lisa's power worked.

I didn't bother asking. Didn't care enough to ask.

She had nothing less than three screens showing off news reports all day on her computer, another one where she was constantly switching through tabs, her and Elle's phones were perpetually plugged into an outlet either on the net or with Lisa calling the people she was working with.

My best guess was some kind of information sifter that could view things through electronics that others couldn't see.

Honestly, I'm not sure I want to know.

A part of me whispers in the back of my mind to find out. Don't trust her, Don't trust anyone else again. Know who she is. What she can do. The more you know the less chance there is of her betraying you. All the trust I put in the PRT, the Protectorate, the Wards Miss,… Miss Militia.

Trust isn't worth it.

And yet the rest of me knew… it wasn't trust. Not really. The part that may have wanted to trust was a mewling, bleeding thing somewhere in my mind.

It was exhaustion.

What would it matter if she did betray me in the end?

It wouldn't.

If I didn't care, it couldn't.

And if it did end up betraying me then… four days could be cut shorter I guess…

"Hey there."

Lisa's voice snapped me out of my morose thoughts. I looked up, finding her smile, small, hesitant.

She sat down next to me on the couch, Elle was on another seat nearby, knees up to her chest, nursing a warm mug of tea.

I turned my eyes back to the TV.

"They think I'm mastered," I said.

She hesitated beside me, then nodded. "It's… a fair assumption."

"It's a coverup." I answered. "Another one. Can't admit when one of their precious Wards fucks up."

"It's to help you." She hedged.

My laugh is bitter, spiteful.

I guess I'm the same as Sophia now.

She stiffens. Then her fingers grasp my hand, bringing my eyes to her.

Bottle green eyes look at mine with a firmness.

"This is a good thing." She insists. "As a Master victim you're not… responsible for what happened-"

I'm not even sure what did happen… everything after the truck is just… dark. There's nothing-

"-Coil is." Lisa continues. "You won't be punished for-"

"Like Sophia wasn't punished." I cut her off, holding her gaze "I never wanted to get her perks." I hiss, feeling fire under my skin, kindled from embers into flame. "I wanted to be a hero."

I feel her hands twitch, and I see the lance of fear run through the back of her eyes.

Guilt cuts into me. A shallow, fleeting sensation that douses the fire.

"Guess Heroes just don't exist." I mumbled.

Lisa swallows, hesitating, I think she's struggling for what to say. But I don't know her well enough to tell for sure.

"You were a Hero."

The voice isn't Lisa's. Or mine.

The two of us turn. Elle is sitting there, still nursing her mug. It's half empty by now. Knees up to her chest, eyes staring at a spot along the wall, unblinking.

"You fought Oni-Lee. Empire. Helped." She said. "When you didn't have to. Healers' valuable. Could've left. Stayed." Her knees came up. Curling in on herself a bit more. "That matters. Helping."

I heard Lisa take a breath, saw her nod out of my periphery.

"Yeah…" She mumbled, then grasped my fingers tighter. "Listen. I don't. I can't tell you everything that happened with this Sophia girl. I can guess. But it'd just be a guess. What Coil said, what you… heard. He said it to hurt you. He wanted to hurt you. Maybe… Maybe don't take the word of a supervillain who wanted to push you over the edge?"

I heard her arguments. Heard the reasonableness…

It rankled.

My hands tighten over her fingers now. "She was there."

That was something I hadn't dreamt up. That wasn't something Coil had just manufactured.

She'd been there. She'd been there, and they kept her away from me for months.

They knew.

They knew, and they lied about it.

Lisa's head bowed.

I didn't want to argue this. Not anymore…

"Coil," I said. "You're making the gangs angry at him."

"They're already angry." She took the offered lifeline. "I'm just making them vengeful." She nodded. "Pointing Legend their way. Reminding them that this heat is here because of the prison raid. Keeping up the pressure. At the rate, Legend's going, at the rate they're losing men and money. They're gonna want to throw the Protectorate some red meat. Best red meat in town is the prime cut that pissed off the bear in the first place."

"Just sending Legend isn't gonna be enough," I noted. "You have something else in mind… a step two."

She nodded, and this time her grin was… predatory.

Fox like.

(X)(X)(X)

Her plan was simple.

Obvious really.

Dress up.

Coil used mercs.

Not just cape mercs like Faultline or the undersiders, but normal mercs.

Mercs came in all shapes and sizes.

Lisa, and either friends, partners or others angry at Coil were going to go out… piss off the gangs some more.

Make them… vengeful as she put it.

Between Legend and… insults like this- the city was a powder keg. The match was practically lit already.

Elle was with me. I'm not sure if Lisa wanted the girl to watch me or for me to watch her.

And didn't that say quite a bit…

I waited for the question. The moment she hedged and hemmed and hawed. Asking me if I'd help.

She'd probably frame it a different way. Asking if I wanted payback. Or to make sure her plan succeeded so Coil would pay for hurting me.

But it'd still be what it was. Using me. Using what I could do.

But she didn't.

Not once.

By the time fire was burning across the sky in hues of orange and tarnished gold; I drew up the nerve to ask her myself. To ask why she hadn't asked.

She must've seen it on my face.

"I told you." She said before I'd even gotten a word out."You don't have to do anything. Just… a few more days. Everything will be better.:

Then she left.

It was almost night by then. Fire turning to oily blues and purples.

She'd only looked at me… worried glances. Measuring. Calculating Watching me. Almost looking for the sign, I'd… hang a rope the moment she turned her back.

I… tried not to think about how much that actually meant to me at that moment.

Elle and I sat in the living room, by the coffee table.

One of Elle's friends, a woman named Fitts, was with Lisa. Helping her carry out this… plan.

We stayed there together. The silence wasn't awkward. It wasn't oppressive. The two of us were… almost stuck in our own heads. Trying to sort through thoughts that went in circles even as they needed to be sorted.

We kept still. Unmoving in the dark.

…

It wasn't worry.

Nothing quite so simple.

It was paralysis.

A world going still. Holding its breath.

Elle held my hand.

Or maybe I held hers.

Then- something gave.

"Elle," I asked. "Do you know where they are?"

The smaller girl didn't move for a moment.

"She said it's ok." She reassured. "You don't have to help. You don't want to be used."

I nodded. "You're right." I said.

I took a breath

"Doesn't mean I have the right to use her either…"

(X)(X)(X)

I took a phone.

Not mine. Of course. Don't have one anymore. Mine had been PRT issue. The one that wasn't… was back at base.

It was one of Lisa's burners. Just in case I didn't find her and she returned to the apartment before I got back.

I moved through the city. Burning as I went.

Nothing big. Nothing that would be noticed.

Magazines. Newspapers. A trash bin was lit on fire with all the garbage in it.

I kept walking. Gathering more and more ash as I went.

It was slow. And I kept the cloud of it dispersed, masked the gathering gray. Slipping it under my clothes. When there was no more room there I made it flow in the wind like scattered dust, or along the black tar of asphalt, the groves of storm drains, along rooftops.

By the time I reached the west-side I had ash.

By the time I heard the sound of gunfire… I was ready for a fight.

Something to hurt. To make others hurt. The thoughts intruded on my mind, and somewhere, distantly I recognized how cruel that sounded. How it sounded too much like Sophia.

The other part of me didn't want to care.

Why shouldn't the world hurt a bit more?

The fight was taking place in an abandoned apartment complex. Nothing major. Three story, Twelve apartments. The pop-pop of handguns I recognized.

The bright red flare of Tinkertech rifles, I didn't.

I stood in an alley nearby, watching, waiting. If Elle was right. Lisa was here. I needed to see her first. Needed to find her.

The Empire grunts were easy to spot. A by-product of having the number -eighty eight tattooed on the side of your skull perhaps.

'Coil's mercs' were just as obvious.

The armor wasn't Tinkertech, but it was professional. Full tac gear, similar to what I'd seen the PRT troopers use. Balaclavas hid their faces but as they fought their way out and back to their van, carrying cash I saw one of them stop- looking around.

The Balaclava made it easy to focus on the eyes.

Bottle green. They went wide when she spotted me.

She was alright.

I didn't have to get involved.

And yet-

The ash hissed like falling sand as it swirled and whorled around me, gathering close, going from under my clothes to over them. Becoming armor.

Ashburn stepped out of the alley.

Lisa stepped forward, almost moving towards me before someone grabbed her. Black guy, taller, stronger, all but shoving her into the van and slamming the door as a third one took off with squealing tires.

They're gone.

Fire blooms in my palm.

And it feels better than lethargy.

Feels better than simply waiting to die.

It surges from my hand, and flames devour one of the vehicles in front of the building.

It goes off. The explosion is like a flare, sirens wailing across the street.

The Empire men notice me now. Some scream. Some open fire.

Most try to run.

It's not a fight. Not really.

They can't hurt me.

Ash flenses the flesh off their hands until they can't grip the guns anymore. My punches break bones. My kicks send Nazis out of windows and into hospital rooms.

Again. It's not a fight.

It's… stress relief.

It's useless.

The thought stops me halfway up the stairs; my own muscles tremble, losing strength. I sway where I stand even as I force the ash to hold me up.

The fire fades beneath my flesh. Again returning to smoldering embers.

I turn and start to leave, a pile of broken men behind me.

When I step outside. There's someone waiting.

Three someones, to be specific.

"Well, well, frauline. I do believe you've overstepped."

I recognize Krieg. His accent is thick. I've heard it's fake. I can buy that.

"Shit… Krieg, it's the Ward. The Mastered one." Rune hisses from her platform shifting where she stands.

"Fucking Coil" Stormtiger is the third. His fists are clenched.

Krieg nods. "Hmm. Indeed. Frauline. Can you understand me?"

The phone in my pocket rings.

My hand moved, reaching down-

"Shit! Don't let her answer!"

Stormtiger moved.

He was faster than I expected. The aero kinetic burst forward; I felt air rushing past me, like a vacuum, yanking me towards him even as it moved him towards me.

I called ash to me, and it answered.

The gray rushed to intercept. Tendrils and teeth of ash move to snare the Nazi.

Wind buffeted it away; Stormtiger was wrapped in a shell made of gale force winds.

By the time I recognized the ash didn't have enough mass to break through, the E-88 Enforcer was slamming into my side, a cushion of air on his shoulder preventing him from breaking something even as he rammed into me hard enough to knock me back into the building wall.

"Don't let her answer!" He shouted. "That's how she was mastered last time!"

The phone's shrill ring chimed in time with the faint ringing in my ears.

Lisa.

Lisa's calling.

"Now Frauline. Stay down. The Protectorate unt Legend would wish very much for their Ward to be returned soon I think. We would rather not deliver damaged goods"

I felt my fingers clench, hands balling into fists.

…

Maybe I'd been more than just ready for a fight.

Maybe I'd been spoiling for it.

Stormtiger must've sensed my intent, or perhaps the ash moving through the air.

The wind crashed into me. A concentrated hurricane slamming onto my body.

I barely budged.

My head ducked, shoulder pressing forward as I stretched out my hand.

The ash came, rushing to all three of them.

Stormtiger's aerokinesis protected him, Krieg's kinetic dilution couldn't do the same. Not for long. Not when I turned a dusting of ash into a sandstorm.

I heard Rune scream, manhole covers,drain grilles, and a small motorcycle rushing out of the clouds to strike me.

The ash converged, going from a cloud into lances, jutting from the ground, piercing the projectiles like converging spears.

I felt movement, a shift, then a stop sign was careening through the howling winds like a lance, barely missing me as I threw my shoulder back, embedding itself into the wall.

Stormtiger swooped down, hands held out like claws.

My own hand reached back, grabbing the stopsign Krieg had tried to skewer me with before yanking it out to club the charging Stormtiger over the head.

The villain jerked downward, the metal pipe nearly clipping his skull

He pushed himself up, rushing off the ground into an uppercut, wind howling at his fists to form claws that raked across the armor of my stomach and chest.

He was fast. Between the buffeting winds all but shoving me back, the claws trying to cut through the armor and his own flight speed I had no right to catch him.

I did it anyway.

My hands grabbed hold of his wrists, latching onto him like a vice.

More wind crashed into me, a tornado bearing down, peeling the ash off my armor even as I forced more and more to crawl across the ground and onto my body.

He thrashed like a fish on a hook, muscles bunching, legs kicking.

But I had him.

I squeezed.

I felt the muscles bunched under my fingers. Felt the flesh fold; felt the bones give.

He screamed.

Another projectile came from Rune, a manhole cover, and this time I was too slow, the metal cracked into my shoulder, sending me tumbling across the front sidewalk; Stormtiger slipping through my grasp before I found my feet again.

Krieg was rushing over to me. The ash I used to try and tear the coat and fabric of his costume to get to the flesh beneath was too slow inside his bubble. Not enough force to do any damage.

I remember the briefing. His file.

If he gets close enough to me, long enough… He can slow down my breathing until I pass out.

Fire blooms in my palm, spewing out from between my fingers like a flamethrower.

Grass takes to the flame quickly. That makes sense.

The sidewalk and asphalt make less sense.

I can see them. Concrete and Tar begin to melt and boil.

He can disable kinetics. Not heat.

Stormtiger is trying to get back into the air again. But he's in pain; his control is shot. He's sagging like a helium balloon with too little helium.

Rune rushes in. I don't see manhole covers this time. But chunks of the street, Sidewalk. She positions them like shields covering Stormtiger as she gets something under him to help rush them away.

They have no right to flee after challenging you

I don't feel like letting them go.

The ash converges. Serpents of grainy residue hissed in the air, forming spikes the size of small trees in the space above and around me.

I launch them.

They're not quite bullet speed. But they have mass. They have weight.

Rune screams as concrete shatters. Her controlled barricade breaking apart.

They're defenseless.

I launch more.

The ash lances hit like trucks. The sound they make is the equivalent of a thunderbolt hitting beside your ear.

Stormtiger dives off his floating platform, trying to catch himself with Aerokinesis before a lance tears across his side.

I see blood.

He doesn't scream.

When he hits the ground, he doesn't move.

I see Rune's platform rock at the first lance that hits it, split open like an egg on the second.

She tries to hold on, but tumbles off her perch crashing onto a car with a heavy thump.

Krieg is retreating. I hear him shouting into a radio, calling for help.

Rune is writhing on the floor.

Her legs' broken.

I can see the bone jutting out just under her knee. I can hear her crying.

Before I know it, I'm marching closer.

Her hand comes up, a warding gesture, and a car door is ripped out of the van she crashed onto spinning like a frisbee towards my head.

My hand rises, catching the heavy projectile, even as my ashen claws tear gouges into metal and leather interior to stop its inertia through sheer grip strength.

"W-wait!" She screams. Her other hand came up. No attack this time.

I hear the warble in her voice. "Stop! Please! Just- Just stop."

They didn't stop when I asked

The thought comes unbidden. It cuts through me like a knife.

I feel my hurt.

Then I feel the anger; kindled, roiling, raging like an inferno in my chest.

I don't realize my hands are smoking.

"Y-you're a Hero! You're a hero! Please!" She whimpers. Her back pressing into another car. "You win! You win ok!?"

The words stop me cold.

The howling storm of ash dies. Falling like hissing sheets of rain around me, the burning flame in my chest once more reduced to embers.

Rune wimpers. Curling into herself on the ground.

It's not a fight.

It never really was.

…

It's bullying.

The thought is a sudden knife punched into my throat. And only after a second do I recognize the shrill ringing in my ears.

The phone.

It hasn't stopped ringing.

I stand there, in the middle of the road, feeling my heart thumping under my ribs, my fingers tingling, brain fuzzy with indecision.

I answer the phone.

"Taylor!"

It's Lisa's voice I hear.

"Taylor talk to me."

I take a breath. Rune is laying there, trying to make herself small and quiet.

"I-"

The words die in my throat.

I'm not sure what to say.

"Taylor… Just… just come back. Ok? You helped. You wanted to help me right? You were worried. That's ok. So just… come back."

I don't answer.

"You promised me." I hear the sob she doesn't let go. "Four days. You promised. I'm so close… I'm so close."

…

I did promise.

I let out a nod. "... Okay."

Lisa's exhale is pure relief.

"I'll head back."

I hear the roar of a motorcycle in the distance.

"Shit."

The word makes my heart skip a beat. "What's wrong?"

"Protectorate. They're on their way. Shit! Lege-"

There's a sudden boom that makes my ears pop. The shockwave hits me and ripples across the street, rocking cars and setting off their alarms.

"That's enough!"

The voice isn't one I recognize. But I know who it is. Rune actually sobs with legitimate relief as she looks up.

I pan my eyes upward.

And I'm staring at the most renowned hero in the whole North Eastern United States.

(X)(X)(X)

Spoiler: Changelog:

Hope you all enjoyed.

Read, Review and remember the clock is tic-ticking on Coil. He'll get his soon :evil:

Its also that time again that I remind everyone still looking for a second Beta to volunteer :D

Last edited: Jul 4, 2022

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To the last, Kill them all

Jul 5, 2022

#4,951

3.5

I felt my heart beating under my ribs. It was still steady. But the pounding made my chest feel tight.

The leader of the Protectorate hovered above the ground, his face a mask of somber feeling.

The disparate ashes on the winds grew still, then reversed their course, moving closer on false winds, mimicking air currents around us even as more slithered along the ground, inching ever closer and closer.

"Ashburn." He called, beginning to float down. "I'm… glad I found you."

"Yeah." I found myself saying. "I'm sure."

The fires still burning nearby crackled and snapped, like bones breaking. It cut through the silence between us.

Legend's frown deepened, his head moving to look towards Rune, then Stormtiger and the building.

"Listen." He said coming down to place his feet on the ground. "I know what happened and I promise I'm here to fix it."

He stepped closer.

I stepped back.

I saw the muscles in his face twitch. His expression was something I might have called determined.

"I want to help you." He pleaded.

The snort came, unbidden and impossible to stop.

"Like Miss Militia did?"

I saw him wince, a grimace spreading across his visible expression.

"Yeah…" I whispered, glaring at him. "I thought so."

His hands splayed out, wide and low as if to show he was unarmed.

As if that mattered with him.

"It's… it's not what you think-" He began.

I felt my anger spike.

No. No, it's never what I think is it?

I'm the one who's always wrong.

Making up stories about the model students.

Thinking I've got friends in the Wards.

Thinking the heroes might have actually given a damn about me.

Nah… it's never what I think.

He must've seen something in my eyes, sensed something wrong. I saw the moment he sensed it. The instant he knew I was about to move.

The words were spat out of my mouth like acid. "Go to hell."

"Ash-"

The storm of grey answered him.

The ash swirled and whorled, a typhoon of debris and soot kicking up in an instant.

I turned and ran.

I heard Legend cough behind me, sputtering and flailing, trying to shield his eyes and face.

I felt the ash suddenly getting shoved aside as he flew up into the air at a speed I could barely even register before he was gone and out of my range.

I slipped into an alley, looking to get lost in the back streets.

A lance of bright white energy crashed into the ground ahead of me, scoring across my retinas like a floodlight before Legend was standing in front of me again.

"Ashburn, please-"

Have to get away-

One of the fastest capes on record.

Faster than me. I remember he had perfect vision.

My heart started pounding, a hammer under my ribs as I stepped back, feeling cornered.

Feeling trapped.

I need…

I need time.

"-Just come with me. I came because I want to resolve this situation-"

An idea formed.

Spreading out the ash again… I searched.

Legend breathed out a sigh apparently taking in the dissipating ash storm around us as a sign of surrender. "Good. That's good. Ok. Let's just talk-"

The ash slipped through windows, cracks, under doors, through openings.

The nearby E-88 building had been abandoned except for their money and drugs.

Who's to say there weren't other buildings around here just like it?

"Don't feel like talking," I said, inching backward.

Legend didn't follow.

I realized after a brief moment he didn't need to.

One of the fastest men on the planet. And one of the strongest blasters.

Distance… was just another pretty lie I suppose.

"If that were true you wouldn't have stopped." He nodded. "I think you've been hurt… I think you want help."

"Not from you." I hated how my voice caught.

"Ash… Taylor." He breathed. "I wasn't involved in what happened to you. I came here to fix it. You can trust me. I won't let you down."

I stared at the man.

One of the best they said.

A true hero…

They said that too.

…

It was Legend…

You don't need him. Only me.

…

But isn't that the same thing I'd thought before?

Emma's voice… a girl's voice slithered in my ear. Poison in her words.

Remember how she smiled at you? Promised you how she'd just take care of everything?

My breathing hitched, a sob building up before being swallowed and forced back down.

My hands burst into flame.

A glow gathered at Legend's hands.

I didn't give him time to use it.

I lunged to the side, my full body tearing through a wooden door like it was made of matchsticks. The fire in my hand setting the wood and carpeted floors alight.

From there… the rest of the building went up like tallow.

Legend rushed behind me but soon retreated as the heat of the flames surged, the fires rising rapidly.

I rushed into the building, hiding behind walls and obscuring fires.

I let the flames burn.

Ash gathered again, slipping into the burning shelter around me.

Then… I started to force it into shape.

The air grew hot and stifling, almost suffocating. It was hard to breathe, but not impossible.

Tongues of flame licked along my legs, across my shoulders and helmet.

But I didn't burn.

The ash gathered.

The shapes became defined.

More.

More.

I heard something crack, and chunks of masonry, plaster and wood starting to collapse around me.

Three story building… Plenty to burn.

More ash.

More shapes.

I watched them.

Like shadows in the flame. I looked at them, organized the individual grains, memorizing my own shape. My own dimensions.

Had them mimic it.

Before too long fifteen ashen 'clones' of myself were standing in the room around me, perfect replicas save the lack of eyes.

It would have to do.

The remaining ash I spread out and around, motes of dust swirling in a storm.

I focused.

Felt out the world around me.

People were moving. Evacuating nearby buildings as this one took to the torch.

I could hear sirens with my own ears.

I didn't have a feel for where Legend might be.

Something moving in the neighborhood, fast.

Velocity.

The roar of a motorcycle engine greeted me.

I thought it'd be Armsamster.

It wasn't.

I felt my heartbeat.

It hurt.

Breathing was hard. My ashen shadows began to fall apart.

"She is nothing now"

No.

My heart stilled. My focus returned.

Get… away.

I have to get away.

I promised.

Even if everyone else is a liar… I don't have to be.

Fire surged into my hands.

Needed something… something more than a fireball.

The image came to me. Like a thread along the ground, I followed the thought. Knew how to shape it. How to mold it.

My muscles tensed. My body stood straight as my hands rose- then I slammed them down onto the floor.

The eruption of fire tore the building apart. Windows shattered as a gaping hole was chewed out of the sides of the building, the whole structure collapsing even as more fire devoured the debris before it could collapse onto me.

People screamed, Velocity skidded to a stop, Miss Militia's hands twitched.

I looked up.

Legend hovered in the sky above. A silver dot glimmering in the night.

Then, I moved.

I didn't need to see with my eyes; not with this much ash leaving a map of tactile static across my senses as to where everything was.

Velocity rushed forward, then hesitated as my ash shadows came into view; his eyes going here and there- wondering which was the real one.

He tried to back away, but a tendril of ash slipped between his legs and his backpedal became a sprawling fall.

Before he could recover, two of my shadows were grabbing him.

Beams of energy lanced through the ashen constructs tackling Velocity.

The energy broke them apart before I forced them back into form, to keep holding the speedster down.

The other shadows; I made them move fast, dipping in and out of the mass around me, making myself move between them.

Legend had perfect vision. But keeping track of which one you 'shot' in the scramble wasn't easy.

"Taylor!"

Militia's voice made me stop.

I turned.

She was looking at me.

Not at my shadows. Her eyes weren't searching.

She was looking directly at me.

Two more of the constructs broke off, rushing her.

I saw her eyes widen, the green energy of her power flickering between weapons unable to decide before she had to defend herself.

My shadows were clumsy, jerking like puppets on strings. But she was off her game. Surprised.

A shoulder tackle knocked the wind out of her body, slamming her into a nearby wall before the clones grabbed hold of her, pinning her down.

She should pay

Images came to me. Flashes of how I could hurt her. Shred through her with motes of ash. Manipulate cinders to burn.

Pain cut across my skull, sharp and piercing as I hissed, turning and running away as fast as I could.

The remaining shadows… I made them scatter.

Legend was fast and powerful.

I couldn't outrun him.

Couldn't beat him.

I didn't have to.

I know the protocol.

Unsecured villains nearby. Two Protectorate heroes currently restrained, possibility of further attack from other parahumans.

He needed to help them before he could go after me.

By the time Velocity, Militia, and the shadows slipped out of my range… he wouldn't have a trail to follow.

(X)(X)(X)

When I was done running… I was sitting in a laundromat. My hoodie pulled up, my phone lingering in my hands.

I realized… I didn't know Lisa's number…

And I'm not sure I can find a way back.

I'm not sure how much time passes before I hear the burner phone ring again.

I'm not sure how much time passes before I muster the strength to answer.

"Tay. Holy fuck… Are you alright?"

My head bows, fingers clenching my own thigh as I try to answer in a steady voice.

"Yeah…"

I'm not.

"...Where are you? I'm coming to pick you up."

I don't answer her question, breathing a sigh.

"…I'm on my way."

I blink.

"I haven't told you where I am." I say.

"I figured it out. Thinker, remember? Just stay there, I'm on my way."

Perhaps it's stupid of me… I believe her.

Legend is after me… I'm not sure what for.

I doubt it's to help like he said…

They've lied before.

"Your four days are almost up." I say instead.

There's silence for a moment. But when she answers… I can hear a smile in her voice.

"Right on time." She insists… I can feel her smirk. "E-88 is pissed… They're calling a meeting on Somer's rock."

I don't know what she means… but she sounds excited about it.

"What that means is… I'm keeping my promise. Once this is done- Coil is gone… and I can finally… do right by you.

She hangs up.

I sit there, wondering if I should believe her… or if it's just that I want to.

(X)(X)(X)

Spoiler: Changelog:

My thanks go out to Xegzy and our new beta Icipall over on SV

Last edited: Jul 5, 2022

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To the last, Kill them all

Jul 7, 2022

#5,065

Interlude: Max Anders

"Yes, of course. I'm glad we could reach an agreement. I'll be more than happy to hammer out the finer details by the end of the week. Good evening, Director Waldstein." The smile Max Anders sported to mimic a pleased tone fell away as the phone clacked into the cradle, ending the call.

He took a slow and deep breath as he sat in his chair.

Standing up, he marched towards the window overlooking the city.

A city that was akin to a room, slowly burning while filled with explosives.

If one had predicted this scenario a little over a month ago, he would have found it… unlikely. Not, of course, in the apparent level of escalation, the Bay always stood on a precarious precipice. A fine balance of power that could be thrown completely askew by a big enough weight.

For that weight to be a teenage girl though... that he would have found hard to believe.

He hadn't concerned himself with her at all. Her only accomplishment had been holding off the chink, Oni-Lee, and wounding Cricket. Cricket was skilled but not an exceptionally powerful member of the organization. After a day or so under Othala's care, she'd been just fine.

In short, nothing special.

It appeared, however, that his opinion was in need of a gross revision and fast.

It seemed that for all intents and purposes, she was far more powerful than his first impression had warranted.

She'd defeated three of his capes.

Krieg. Rune. Stormtiger.

Stormtiger's exact condition was noted as critical. Panacea refused to heal any of their members, so he was being tended to "the old-fashioned way". Rune herself had been captured. With Legend in the Bay a Ward rebranding for her might be on the table, and he doubted the girl would have the spine to reject the offer for the cause.

She knew they wouldn't have the capability of releasing her as they'd done months before.

Legend was here now.

Even if he brought Kayden into the fold to help, the chances of defeating a Triumvirate member…

Or worse, the odds of that Triumvirate member defeating all of them…

Not exactly a dice worth rolling for a single teenage cape, no matter his potential plans for her and Theo.

He turned back to his computer, bringing up the company logs and inspecting the workers still on the clock at Medhall.

Just the janitor and some civilians working overtime, and his own people after hours. Max stood up and walked out of his pristine office towards the elevator and pulled out his phone, sending group text to his people.

Meeting.

Everyone knew what that meant.

He got into the elevator and clicked the button leading to the basement. The keypad on top required a password that he inputted in, feeling the elevator go down from the top most floor, down and down to the very bottom. He arrived and walked out.

Marching through the white halls, he reached his car easily enough and started driving.

(X)(X)(X)

By the time Fenja and Menja arrived, he was already in his full regalia.

The armor of blades cocooning him in their layered steel shell.

The next to come inside was Crusader. He nodded sharply.

"Sir."

Shortly after, Krieg.

"Let's begin."

"Seems empty," Krieg commented, though by the tone of his voice, he knew what he was talking about.

"Hookwolf is on standby in case something else is attacked." He answered, not needing to fake the sneer in his voice.

"Stormtiger and Rune have both been captured by the PRT." He said. "In the span of twenty minutes we lost two of our capes. Hookwolf was nearly captured last week after Legend himself confronted him. We lost hundreds of thousands in liquidated funds and millions in drugs after that… Ward burned down the building. Another million dollars worth in both weapons and ammunition."

"So the rumors are true? Coil's mastering a Ward?" Crusader asked.

"It would seem so." Krieg nodded. "Many of our men reported being attacked by Coil's mercenaries and when we three were on our way, suddenly the Ward arrived to cover their retreat. It is simply too convenient."

"Undersiders and Faultline were seen hitting up Hendrick's place at around the same time." Crusader nodded. "We couldn't move to answer because of heavy PRT patrols down by Lord's Street."

"It would seem Coil is still pulling strings in the PRT internals as well." Kaiser sighed, aggravated.

Truly, it was astonishing. He could usually appreciate the PRT's incompetence when he needed information but the one time he legitimately wants them to tighten security and they have legitimate reason to, they're still being led around by the nose.

"We have two problems." He declared after a moment. "Coil and Lung."

"Not Legend?" Crusader asked.

"Legend is the symptom, not the disease."

"Coil then." Krieg nodded.

Kaiser agreed. "We need to eliminate Coil. Once he's gone and their Ward returned, the Protectorate will return to their passive state."

"You mentioned Lung too." Crusader half stated, half asked.

"We cannot waste all of our strength eliminating Coil while Lung is waiting in the wings to grab territory. Any move we make, Legend will answer and either capture more of us or weaken us enough to leave us too vulnerable to fight off Lung."

"I hear he's got some new Tinker." Crusader drawled. "He is more dangerous now. He'll want to flex his muscle."

"We need a truce." Krieg deduced. Good. Better for Krieg to say it than for Kaiser to imply weakness by having the idea come from him.

"It won't last beyond Coil's lifetime, but if we can get the chink to agree- it'll be long enough." The leader of the Empire nodded. "Now, before we do we need to ascertain the assets Coil has at his disposal. Mercenaries, the Undersiders, the Travelers, Faultline."

"It's a lot of firepower." Crusader shifted in his seat. "Enough to rival our own numbers."

"They're mercenaries." Krieg cut in. "Give them a bigger paycheck, they'll fold."

"I can't imagine they appreciate the heat they're under either." Kaiser nodded. "We can approach them with an offer. But the Ward Ashburn and the other capes. The Master and Surtr. What do we know about them?"

"Ashburn's file in the PRT hasn't changed," Crusader said before he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "But… and this is what I've been hearing from the guys they transferred up north? People who were there at the prison? They're saying that whole thing with that Surtr guy isn't some new Parahuman. They're saying that Surtr was Ashburn."

That… brought him up short.

"Are you trying to say that this… little girl, this child, is that thing being designated as an A-Class threat and single-handedly fought off an entire Protectorate unit without suffering so much as a scratch?"

Crusader opened his mouth, fishing for words before he threw up his hands. "Look, I don't know anyone that was there personally but I've got people swearing up and down about what their friends say that they saw at the prison. Surtr is a Brute that uses fire, he's also using those ash statue things. Ya know, the creepy ones? Ashburn is the only other cape that uses those. Then suddenly Ashburn goes missing and that Surtr guy is never heard from again. I mean… I don't know. But if it's true and this is some kind of master effect, then that means that if you're gonna take this girl out we gotta go in guns blazing."

Kaiser said nothing. He needed more information.

Apparently so did the PRT.

"There is something else to discuss." Krieg, thankfully, changed the subject. "We've lost Stormtiger and Rune."

Ahh.

"We need Purity back. Now more than ever. When she left, Night and Fog basically left with her. Their contribution to the previous escape was… hesitant, though God only knows what's going through their heads. That's three of our most powerful soldiers. This has to be fixed, Kaiser. Now."

"Be careful of what tone you use with me, Krieg." He warned, narrowing his eyes. His relationship with Purity was no secret and Krieg's value and seniority didn't exempt him from showing the proper respect. "You may be a dear friend, but what I choose to do with Kayden is none of your concern."

Nevertheless he had a point.

Max sighed. "However, I suppose I've entertained her little rebellious streak long enough." He mused, catching Crusader shifting in his seat. "I'll bring her back to the fold soon." It wouldn't do to seem too desperate in contacting her so quickly after this setback.

He took a moment to think.

Though it was a foregone conclusion.

"Call a meeting. Somers Rock." He nodded. "Everyone. Lung, Coil, Undersiders, Faultline."

"For when?" Crusader asked

"Tomorrow."

Krieg nodded, satisfied.

Kaiser stood from his seat.

"In the meantime, keep your ears to the ground and your eyes open. I want no more surprises…"

(X)

The next morning proceeded as usual. He got up, had his coffee, and proceeded to act and be the CEO of Medhall.

For all intents and purposes, a normal man.

He attended his meetings, called back to Director Waldstein, had lunch and drove to his "home" at four in the afternoon.

He arrived at the dockhouse, removed his suit and created his other suit, just in time for his driver to pull up to the curb, Fenja and Menja already seated inside in their full regalia. He got in and immediately picked up his phone.

It rang twice. "Krieg here."

"I am on my way. I trust you've rounded up the others?"

"Victor, Othala, Hookwolf, Crusader, Cricket, and myself. We're all ready to go. From here we can make it to the Bar in ten minutes."

"Leave now then. I'm about that distance myself."

"Understood."

He hung up the phone.

When they pulled up to Somer's Rock there were already several cars outside of it. He could recognize Coil's black van instantly. The man always came in those kinds of cars.

He could only assume the others belonged to the chinks, or the Travelers.

He suddenly missed Marquis. The man had been a nuisance and a hindrance to many of his operations, but he certainly had more class than to show up at these meetings on a Japanese motorcycle.

By the time he came to a stop, he could already see the three cars Krieg had pulled up. He was down the block. Seconds away.

His driver parked, rushed to the door, and opened it. Fenja and Menja got out first, flanking the door as they waited for him. He got out next, marching ahead, and as expected they fell in behind him.

When he stepped into the bar, Coil was already there, dressed in the simplistic body suit and serpent-decorated mask. Four of his usual bodyguards sitting in a booth at the far end corner.

Sitting to his right on the circular table was Lung, bare faced and chest. Behind him sat the ever faithful dog, Oni-Lee, alone in his particular booth. No Bakuda, it seemed.

Lung's feet were up on the table as he rocked the chair back and forth on its hind legs. The fucking monkey couldn't even pretend to be civilized.

He marched towards the table and sat down; Fenja, Menja, Krieg, Cricket and all the rest coming in behind him and taking up their chosen booths.

He laced his hands in front of where his mouth would be and was about to speak when Lung beat him to it.

"If the so called 'Emperor' is done overcompensating-" He grinned. "Then perhaps we can begin and go on with our day."

He bristled in his seat, he heard Othala hissing some insult of her own, saw Fenja and Menja tighten their grips on their weapons and glare.

He held up his hand, quietly ordering them to stand down.

"We respect the Truce. Leave the insults to the lesser races. That's all they're good for anyway."

Lung scoffed out a laugh.

Kaiser turned his attention to the man of the proverbial hour.

"Coil." He drawled out the name. "You've become… exceedingly bad for business recently."

The villain shrugged. "I believe we're all entitled to defend our assets. In order to defend mine I needed to rock the boat a bit."

Crusader scoffed. "I'd say more than a bit."

Kaiser didn't deign to respond to the man's quip. "You've angered the PRT, Coil. And now our assets are the ones being affected. Furthermore, your own mercenaries are attacking our holdings directly."

"Rogue agents." The man answered with an easy shrug. "Dissatisfied with current operations, they decided to cut and run."

That made Kaiser raise an eyebrow. "The Undersiders and Faultline's crew aren't yours?"

"Not anymore." He reached into his pocket, slowly.

What he pulled out was a USB stick.

"Here." He said with a careless shrug. "A show of good faith. A list of their assets, holdings, and safehouses. You want retribution for a rogue attack on your holdings, there it is."

Kaiser wasn't usually one to balk… but this man truly lived up to his serpent moniker.

Fenja reached forward, taking the data stick in hand with a suspicious look.

"That still leaves the issue of the hornet's nest you've kicked up." He pointed out. "If you do not solve this problem then rest assured, I will solve it for you."

Coil stiffened.

For a moment he thought it would end at the threat, but as the door opened behind him, he realized they had other guests.

"Don't bother waiting for him to answer," Tattletale said, behind him. "The faraday cage we just set up around the block makes it kinda hard to keep hearing instructions from that earpiece."

Slowly, all eyes moved from the Thinker towards the now squirming 'villain'

"Body double," Tattletale said as Grue, Regent and Bitch stepped around the table on one side, Faultline stepping to the other to stand beside the round centerpiece. "He was never really here, frankly he just wanted to delay you guys."

"Delay us?" It was Lung who spoke, his voice taking on a subtle, dangerous edge.

The dragon was notoriously prickly when others tried to take him for a fool.

Tattletale's grin was downright bloodthirsty. "You see, Coil doesn't intend to clean up the mess. He never did. Ever since the prison… every move he's made, every hit he's ordered… yeah. All meant to get as many of his ducks in a row before he bails out and leaves everyone here holding the bag."

"Th- This is ridicu-"

Coil, or 'the body double', moved to stand, only for Grue's hand to clamp harshly around the man's shoulder. Kaiser could see the fingers digging into flesh before Coil was shoved back down.

Tattletale sauntered over to another table, dragging a free chair forward and planting it between Kaiser and Lung before taking a seat.

Her eyes darted between himself and the Asian gang leader.

"I'll tell you both, but one of you will care about this more than the other." She showed teeth now. It wasn't a mere 'smile'.

"That little USB stick he gave you with all the juicy info you'll need to take a swing at us?" She winked. "Yeah. He's got one on all of you."

All at once, Kaiser felt more than saw how every single one of his capes went still as stone.

"The fuck do you mean he-"

"Exactly that." Tattletale cut off Hookwolf before he could finish. "On everyone. He has safe houses, money drops, shipment info, contacts, deadman drop locations, dates, names."

The last one made Kaiser's blood turn to ice in his veins.

Faultline chose that moment to cut in. "You all know my reputation. You all know Tattletale and I don't get along, and you know I don't quit a job when I take it. Well, this one had to be dropped." She jerked her head in the blonde Thinker's direction. "Listen to her, and you'll get why this bastard's gotta go."

Tattletale turned away, staring at the body double. "Here's how the plan was supposed to go. He hits the prison. Masters Ashburn, leaves the Protectorate with a big black eye. Protectorate gets pissy, they crack down. Then he uses all those nice plants and double agents, all the spies and informants to keep him ahead of the game, to keep pointing them at… everyone else." A finger came up, tapping her chin. "Ain't it odd how none of his bases are the ones they hit? Just everyone else's, even though they're looking for him."

In spite of his usual, hard won stoicism, Kaiser felt his lip curl beneath his mask, hands tightening into fists.

"So everyone else starts brawling in the streets. He takes some extra cash. You know, for a rainy day. How many millions were burned last night in that apartment complex, Kaiser? Two? Four?"

"Your teams facilitated that."

"No. No." She shook her head. "Ask your boys, we were taking on a dog fighting ring as a distraction. Keep Hookwolf off the real target. You had to send in the B-team, right? And who was there to intercept?"

"Ashburn." Krieg answered.

"His very own mastered pet Ward." She grinned. "So. He takes some extra cash, meets up with you guys today, burns us and Faultline to give you cats the laser pointer to chase around and he quietly skips fucking town with the aptly named Travelers. And to make sure the PRT are simply too busy to follow him- they'll be getting an anonymous tip. With ALL the juicy details." She smirked. "And I do mean all of them. Even the very private details."

He didn't give the order.

He didn't stop it either.

The body double and the mercs were dead before they could draw guns.

Lung chuckled, having never moved from his seat. "Thank goodness you're the civilized race."

"Truce is off." Tattletale said, her usual grin absent from her face as she leaned forward, pulling out a tablet. "We have a very limited amount of time before he realizes his men are in deep shit and not just absent because of a faulty connection. If we want to take him down before he goes and sends all our information public, we gotta hit him now."

"Where."

It took him a moment to recognize he, not Hookwolf, was the one who snarled out the words.

"He's got three bases. A primary and two backups. No way to tell where exactly he is so we'll have to head for all three."

A map of Brockton Bay appeared on the tablet, three areas highlighted.

An old shipyard repair bay, a storage warehouse by the old railway tracks and-

"The Endbringer Shelter is his main one." She nodded. "Whatever we send there gotta hit hard and be a lot of them. Travelers are definitely there."

"Hookwolf, Fenja, Menja. We're going." He called. "I will direct this personally."

Lung snorted. "Oni-Lee, you will proceed to the shelter as well."

Kaiser's eyes narrowed, but he could worry about whatever moves Lung was making later. For now, he had a much larger problem in keeping Medhall and the Empire from being destroyed by a catastrophic information leak.

The ninja bowed. Beginning to march out without a backward glance.

He quickly made a mental tally of his remaining assets. "Crusader, get in contact with Purity, Night, and Fog. Trainyards."

"Victor, Othala, Krieg, you'll head to the shipyards with Faultline and her crew."

"Going rates still apply." The mercenary replied without missing a beat.

"You're hired." He answered without a second's hesitation before turning and marching out of the door.

Coil wouldn't live past the hour.

(X)(X)(X)

Behind him Lisa's fingers gripped the edge of the table, white knuckled.

Shaking, shuddering breaths shook her whole body.

If Brian, Faultline or the others noticed...

They were kind enough to pretend otherwise...

(X)(X)(X)

Spoiler: Changelog

My thanks to @Icipall over on SV and of course Xegzy who took it upon himself to Beta this chap while feeling, and I'm quoting here- "like theres an swarm of angry woodpeckers on my skull."

Next chap... Coil gets his comeuppance and the powder keg that is Brockton Bay quietly diffuses and absolutely does not explode EVERYWHERE :D

443

Ld1449

Jul 7, 2022

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Ld1449

Ld1449

To the last, Kill them all

Jul 8, 2022

#5,097

Interlude: Thomas Calvert

The irony wasn't lost on him; that just this morning on the radio, blasting at full volume, was 'Highway to Hell'.

As usual, he'd split into two timelines.

In the first he remained on base, sending a double to negotiate in his stead.

In the second… he went himself.

Truthfully, he was finding more and more these days that two timelines simply were not enough.

They'd seemed more than sufficient when he could juggle things at his leisure. At his set pace.

When he was trying to outrun the Protectorate, Legend, keep tabs on Faultline, the Undersiders, keep the Travelers calm and under his employ, reset timelines to get the most out of Ms. Alcott, all the while trying to break her but not kill her with tinkertech drugs…

No. Two timelines were not enough.

He'd had to all but abandon the practice of capturing Undersiders or Faultline's team to torture for information. Grue and the Mercenary were consistent. Any one person went missing for more than an hour, all their alerts went up and they sent everything to the Protectorate.

More than once he'd been just about to break his chosen prisoner when Legend was suddenly blasting down his door and he needed to shut the timeline.

…Gods. Now that he really considered it… the sheer number of timelines he'd been burning through in order to hamper and sabotage the PRT investigations: sending out his own men to silence snitches and contacts the investigators of the Brockton Bay division tended to squeeze when they wanted information, altering time stamps and dates on files, changing a single digit on the case numbers of old incident reports…

Between all of that… and Ms. Alcott he simply couldn't keep up…

…

He doesn't need torture to know that they're moving against him. Actively moving against him.

Dinah became the priority. One by one his moles and spies were cut off. More and more of his mercenaries were threatening to leave without more money. More and more he found himself needing to play his plans from the seat of his pants. More and more he found himself pressed on all sides.

He's flying blind and the only one who could immediately alleviate it was a girl who kept stubbornly burning out her own Thinker skill because she knew the less information he had the greater her chances to escape.

And the worst thing was he couldn't kill her. Not after all he'd invested into getting her.

The meeting at Somer's Rock was meant to gather information. A way to check the temperature gauge and see how long he had before someone finally made a move against him.

He expected to run things smoothly.

Then, Lisa had walked through the door, only in timeline B.

The one where he was present.

There was no warning. No words exchanged.

She marched in. Pulled a gun. And he barely heard the shot before the timeline was suddenly snapped shut.

It had been a long time since Thomas found himself killed and it startled him enough to not immediately notice when the audio and visual feeds from his double suddenly cut out with static.

Thomas cursed.

The villain moved rapidly, splitting the timeline again. In one he remained at base, ready to secure everything.

Lisa was making her move.

And if he knew her, he was fairly certain the whole Empire was going to be part of that move.

He started purging his computers, setting the code to wipe his servers. He called Dr. Pitter to get Dinah ready for transport. Called his mercenaries to go on full alert immediately.

Then he began making phone calls to his various accounts.

Only to feel his heart suddenly drop into a pit.

His accounts were frozen.

And the ones the US government couldn't reach… they were emptied.

The Coil of timeline A felt his heart rapidly beginning to pound under his ribs. The heavy beat either in abject fear or anger, he wasn't really sure, came from a flood of adrenaline as he really began to scramble.

Timeline B's Coil didn't bother with any of this.

He peeled off his mask, hopped into his car and started driving.

In both timelines he got on the phone, moving to contact his still active informants in the PRT networks.

Most of those informants… were no more.

Tattletale had emptied his accounts and released all of his information directly to the PRT.

They were already on their way.

The last of his rapidly closing doors offered him little warning that a BOLO had been thrown out for his cars, his passport and his driver's license. He already discovered his bank accounts were frozen. His private assets at Fortress Industries were being impounded right now. His home was being raided.

Whatever didn't fall under the PRT's wide net, as soon as Timeline B's Coil drove out to the street, he realized that the E-88 and ABB were currently burning to the ground.

He hadn't warned his mercenaries guarding his remaining safe houses and bases across the Bay of the magnitude of the impending attack. As far as they knew his call to come to a full alert status was just his usual sense of caution/paranoia. By the time they realized how serious the attack was they'd be in a fight. Mercenaries were only loyal if the mission had a high chance of them coming back alive.

These circumstances would obviously put him and his employees at odds.

In Timeline A, gathering up the last of his resources Coil marched swiftly across the base towards the only asset that still mattered. The only one that could still get him out of this.

Dinah.

If he was going to have any chance of rebuilding, or even surviving for an extended amount of time after this event, he needed her now more than ever. Even if he escaped in the other timeline, there was no guarantee that some of his many, many enemies wouldn't come after him.

Enemies that weren't limited to the Bay, who now knew exactly what name to look for when one trail went cold.

…

Goddamnit! He should have been looking closer at Lisa!

He knew how dangerous she was, how much enmity she held for him, especially after the prison break.

But she had been a concern he'd thrown to the back of his mind. She had always hated him, but never acted on it. He'd become complacent with that.

A part of him, a small, infinitesimal piece of his conscious mind wanted to actually laugh at the irony. Another part was impressed, proud even. Though the two parts combined less than one percent.

The other part, the remaining 99%, wanted to rip Lisa to pieces and throw the remains to the dogs.

Unfortunately, he couldn't even take that pleasure.

His immediate concern had to be escape. Later, if he survived, he'd twist her head off her fucking neck with his bare hands.

He speedwalked his way forward in Timeline A, pulling his cellphone free. "Doctor Pitter." He snarled into his cellphone. "Status on Miss Alcott."

'Almost ready, Sir'

He hung up, Called another number. "Captain Chase. Get the Gamma team ready to move, immediately. We're evacuating this base."

"Understood. Suiting up. Three minutes."

He hung up.

He dialed another number.

"Krouse." He called. "No time to talk. The E-88 is sending a raiding party. Apparently they've discovered the location of this base." The idiot wouldn't question much. And by the time he did he'd be knee deep in a fight he couldn't win.

Good thing he didn't need them to win. Just delay.

And if Noelle got loose… that was simply more cover for his own escape.

"What- What are you-"

"Get your team ready!" He demanded again. "I'm scrambling to get Noelle evacuated because the Protectorate will follow. Move!"

He hung up.

By the time he arrived at his intended destination It was to the sight of his bodyguards already prepared to move, what little personal effects Dinah had were already packed in one suitcase, another had three weeks worth of the drug cocktail that was keeping her compliant.

She groaned, pained. Evidently she was not quite recovered from last night's bout of questioning.

Today, he found himself caring even less than usual.

"What are the odds that contingency B-12 will be successful within the next two hours?"

"Seven point six percent!" She hissed.

Not… unexpected.

That escape plan was essentially a land based escape/diversion where his mercenaries would punch their way out of the bay in a convoy of armored vehicles whilst he merely unmasked and left later as Thomas Calvert. With his identity exposed he should have guessed the odds would be that dismal.

"What are the odds that contingency F-83 will be successful for escape, and that I will evade capture again when I arrive at my destination?"

"Too much!" She screamed, hands rising to try and grip her head before the restraints stopped her as her legs shook in fits and spasms. "Too many questions!"

He snarled, his patience wearing thin. "What are the odds that contingency F-83 will provide a wholly successful escape?"

She spasmed. "E-eighteen point twe-twelve percent!"

He grit his teeth. International travel on his private plane. If this was his best shot his odds were looking dismal indeed.

"What are the odds-"

There was a rumbling sound from above, the whole base shaking around them.

He spoke into his communicator. "What's the situation?"

"We've been had! ABB found us!" One of his captains replied. "Oni-Lee is tearing up the upper levels with tinker-tech bombs! He hasn't breached the lower level but I wouldn't count on that lasting!"

"Shut down the elevator shaft. Activate explosives. The second the motion sensors detect movement in there I want you to collapse the whole thing, understood?"

"Got it."

"Have all combat personnel ready defensive positions. Warn the Travelers of Oni-Lee's abilities. If he makes it down here they should be prepared to engage him. Cut all power to the upper floors. Maintenance access is the only means of entering this location without the elevator. I want a kill zone set up, crossfire. Bottleneck the entrance."

Stall them, he just needed to stall them.

All he needed was time.

If he could get time, tie the ABB, the E-88 and the PRT at this location then he could slip away in the chaos.

Lisa had chosen to strike with overwhelming force, but the crush of bodies and sheer weight of numbers were going to get tangled all over each other in the rush to get to him.

He had four escape routes from this location. Lisa couldn't know about all of them.

"Marshall." He called into the comm. "You're in charge."

"Understood, Sir."

He looked back to Dinah and just then, in the other reality, the one where he was already on the I-95, a PRT helicopter swooped down low, passing straight above him, then circling around. He looked out the window, finding a sniper hanging out of the canopy door, looking straight at his car.

"This is the Brockton Bay Parahuman response team. License plate HWQ-369, there is an outstanding warrant out for your arrest. You are hereby ordered to pull over to the far right, step out of the vehicle with your hands behind your head. Lethal force has been authorized. Failure to comply will force us to exercise it. You have one minute to comply with the order. I repeat, vehicle license plate HWQ-369-"

Fuck!

He collapsed the timeline and started a new one. In this one he immediately abandoned Dinah and his mercenaries, rushing to try and get to one of the aforementioned escape routes and make good on at least securing his life.

In this one, he looked at Dinah.

"What are my chances of dying within the next hour if I don't release Noelle!?" He hissed.

She bit her lip so hard it bled, glaring at him with hate.

"Give it to her." He demanded.

"I've already given her the dosage for the day, any more and we risk-" Coil grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt and brought him close, almost spitting in his face as he hissed.

"I will shoot you myself if you speak another word! Do as I say! Now!" He shoved the man towards the girl.

The faux doctor swallowed thickly, immediately taking a small vial from his hastily opened briefcase and placing it at the proper slot of its delivery unit.

Immediately, the tension bled out of Dinah.

"What are my chances of dying within the next hour without releasing Noelle!?"

"Seventy-seven point nine three percent."

"What are my chances of dying within the next hour if I use Noelle as a distraction?"

"Thirty-seven point five."

He breathed deep, half in relief, half in vindication. He could get out of this. He could still win.

Then… a thought.

The memory of a thinly veiled threat came back like an infection, slithering through his mind, emerging from wherever it had taken root.

He had to ask...

"What are the chances Cauldron will kill me if I unleash Noelle?"

"N-ninety seven point… point four" She hissed, the strain coming back to her features.

Fuck!

Cauldron's reasons were always enigmatic at best. But he could guess at any number of possibilities that would have Noelle's attack result in a retaliation. The death of Legend, the destruction of the Bay, another high profile defeat for the Protectorate.

If he couldn't use her then his window was closing fast. He had to move now, slip away while he still had even the faintest chance. By the time any of his other mercenaries and bodyguards realized he was gone and threw up their hands in surrender, he'd be long gone.

"We're moving. Now!" He barked and turned as Dinah, six of his most well paid bodyguards and the false doctor followed after him.

He picked up his phone. Dialing one number in one reality and another in this one.

"Get the car ready." He ordered in both, two different drivers at two entrances getting his orders.

Where did it all go wrong…

Ignoring Lisa? The prison attack? The emergence of Surtr? Irritating Cauldron? Legend's arrival? The alienation of Faultline and the Undersiders? The raid on the PRT base? Where the hell did it all go wrong?

Or was it even at the start of this? The very beginning when Hebert decided to stay at her home rather than the PRT base. When she and her father drove towards the headquarters one fine morning to find Dinah?

In the alternate reality, the one where he was moving without his escort as fast as his legs could carry him, he slipped into the escape route in the second sub-level. The one hidden behind locker E-18 in the mercenaries barracks. He was brought up short as at the very end of the tunnel someone is standing there, waiting for him

He barely managed to catch a glimpse of the whirling blender that is Hookwolf tearing down the hallway before he's ripped to pieces.

In this reality Coil winced at the phantom pain.

He splits the timeline again, the new alternate heading down to the lower level whilst this one moves right towards the nearest available escape route. In both he gives warning towards his mercenary forces to move towards the lower levels. It will spread them thin, but there's nothing he can do. If Lisa has compromised his escape routes, half the empire or the ABB could be crawling up the underbelly of his base right now.

He pressed his hand into his ear-piece. "Observation room." He demanded, waiting a moment for the piece of gear to patch him through.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Give me a status report!" He demanded.

"E-88 and ABB are causing mayhem in the street, PRT is tied up with them."

So tied up they were able to trace him speeding along the I-95, in a car that wasn't even registered to him?

"I doubt that." He snarled. "Where is Legend?"

"Last intel puts him on the north side, battling against Purity."

...Purity… Given Kaiser's falling out with his one time lover, it was very likely Purity had no idea what was going on and was fighting any Asian that had come close to the neighborhood… that would attract Legend's attention. And she was one of the few Blasters that could have a prayer of holding him off for any length of time.

"And Kaiser?" He asked.

"We don't know. He hasn't made an appearance yet."

As if it had been choreographed, in the alternate timeline the doorway that hid the escape route suddenly erupted in blades, skewering his body. Coil could feel the slow grip of death consuming him before he collapsed that reality, impaled on a half dozen blades.

"Dammit! He's here!" He snarled. "Third sub-level, hallway 2-F! Activate automatic defenses and send a team with heat based weaponry down there immediately!"

"He's what!? -- I… on it sir!"

There's another rumble, the base shaking all around them as he splitted the timeline again, having this version of him move towards the last of his available alternative escape routes, though he doubted it'll get there. In all probability he'd have to slip past Kaiser to get to it given that it was at the lowest sublevel and the elevator was currently offline.

One of his mercenaries' radios crackled to life behind him.

"Squads Xeta and Psi, return fire! Don't let them past the bottleneck! You boys gonna get shown up by a bunch of two-bit gangsters!?"

"Oni-Lee has breached the automated defenses, currently located at first sub-level engaging Squads Alpharius, and Calips. The Travelers are on their way."

He turns on his phone in both available realities, dialing a number.

It rings once.

This is automated defense system Cad-

"Activate protocol seven, beta, delta, two, two, six, eight, four, three."

One moment…

Voice recognition verified, Orders confirmed. Protocol seven, beta, delta, two, two, six, eight, four three. Activated. Current status, Offline.

"Switch from offline status to active standby status."

Voice recognition verified. Orders confirmed.

In a few minutes, once he was safely out of the blast radius, he'd call back and activate the explosives. Then this whole place would go up in flames. It was too much to hope that they'd think him dead, but they might.

At any rate, the Travelers would be dead. Noelle would be dead. Oni-Lee, Kaiser, Fenja, Menja, Hookwolf.

All dead.

He made it to the last available escape route, his alternate just now reaching the third sub-level where the sounds of gunfire and battle assaulted his ears. He dared a peek, finding Fenja down one hallway, her shield protecting her. He can only guess where Kaiser and her sister were currently located.

Three hundred yards of maintenance corridor… that's all that stands between him and the pier where his personal boat was waiting for him, ready to carry him out of the Bay and into another state.

"You three, move up ahead, make sure it's clear!" He ordered and three of the mercs are all too eager to get further away from the sounds of gunfire and screams of pain currently blooming out of the base in a cacophonous chaos.

They rushed past, one of the remaining mercs was holding Dinah on one arm, the last two taking up the rear guard as he marched forward, the faux doctor moving at his side, figuring that the closer he was to him the safer he was.

Oh the irony…

"Be advised; we have confirmed sightings- Lung is engaged with parahuman designated Surtr.'

Coil felt himself start.

Surtr and Lung?

The world above trembled, shaking the tunnels around them.

Not Oni-Lee's explosives.

Something… bigger.

No time to consider that now.

He kept moving.

The mercenaries up in front are about ten feet ahead of him.

They rounded a corner of this particular maintenance corridor when he heard rather than saw something hit the floor with a soft clink.

He barely had the time to take a breath to try to shout out a warning before the grenade went off.

In the confined, tight corridor the flash-bang felt like a nuclear explosion even behind a corner. He screamed and couldn't hear himself shout, eyes stinging, hands rising to his ears. He could barely see, barely think. His blurry vision only just managed to catch a silhouette of movement ahead of him. The three mercenaries reeled, stumbling back into his line of sight.

Then he saw someone else, someone that shouldn't be there, and the flash of a knife before blood splattered onto the ground. He saw something else drop, and instantly started choking on tear-gas.

"Get down!"

A hand pressed down onto his shoulder, shoving him with brutish force onto his knees before the guards that had been behind him, far enough away from the flashbang to not be affected, started shooting into the rapidly accumulating smoke cloud.

Shots rang out from the inside. He's not sure if it's from the two mercenaries still in there or this attacker. With his vision still blurry he could barely pick up anything more than the brief flash of muzzle fire.

He stood up, marching back behind the line of mercenaries. He pulled out his gun, aiming, then hearing a scream. This time though, the man didn't drop, he had enough time to stumble out of the smoke, gripping his left hip where the artery had been cut wide open. He'd bleed to death in another five seconds.

One of the men in front of him stepped to the side, trying to get a clear shot around his wounded comrade before a knife slipped out of the smoke and jabbed itself into his eye.

He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Just then, in the alternate reality, where his men are currently fighting two giantesses and a living wall of steel that's slowly encroaching in on them like the teeth of a meat grinder- he feels a gun pressed to the back of his head, the Mercenary Captain's voice hitting him like a fist to the gut.

"Stop! We surrender! I'll bring this bastard out if you let me and my men live! That sound like a deal, Kaiser?"

He barely had time to even grasp this development before he saw Dinah, in this reality out of the corner of his eye, dive to the left, slipping free of the stunned doctor's hand.

His brain didn't have time to catch up to the obvious warning for what it was before a shot rings out from the smoke, hitting a steam valve to his right.

The damn thing goes off with a screeching wail as he felt something hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and throwing him to the ground. The metal valve simply *exploded* from where it hung on the pipe like a rocket and cracked the doctor across the head. He fell to the ground, bleeding from his skull. Dead or soon to be.

His last two men scream as they try to duck away from the steam that's now spraying out of the hole like a geyser, burning hot even through the thick combat armor they wear.

Then Miss Militia comes out of the tear-gas.

She closed the distance before his men could move, the green energy of her power wrapping around her foot to form a steel shin and foot guard, kicking at one man's arm with a leaping side kick.

The harsh CRACK sounded about as loud as actual gunshots and the arm bends at a sudden, sharp angle..

The mercenary screamed, his rifle slipping from his fingers but she's already turning, rounding on his friend, the green energy slipping from her leg to her right hand and into a knife, stabbing into the inside of his elbow as he tried to bring his gun to bear.

He fumbled with it, now only having strength in a single arm, still trying to lift it despite the sudden pain.

But she's too close. The energy moved again, slipping from her right hand into her left, not a knife this time but an axe, crunching down through the helmet to cleave the skull beneath it.

The man jerks, the last of his strength vanishing to leave the gun he'd spent the last moments of his life trying to lift to dangle uselessly from the strap.

Thomas pulled his gun, his remaining mercenary pulling out his holdout pistol with his good hand.

The green energy flickered about, once more into her right hand forming… a chinese hook sword…

He paid it no mind, took aim, and fired.

And suddenly his last mercenary was between him and her, gurgling on his own blood where the hook sword had hooked into his neck, letting her pull him forward, only to get another fatal injury in the form of a hole appearing in the center mass of his back.

The green energy of her power disappeared and formed into a gun, the barrel of which he found himself staring down as his last mercenary collapsed, utterly dead

He pulled the trigger.

So did she.

Suddenly his hand felt like it had been skewered with a million red hot knives. He screamed and saw his hand bend back too far. His wrist snapped as his destroyed gun clattered to the floor, every finger broken, slivers of red hot metal poking out of his palm.

He's about to collapse this timeline just to escape the pain alone when Menja beheaded him in the other reality on Kaiser's order…

And here he sat. At the wrong end of a smoking gun in Miss Militia's skilled hands.

He looked at her eyes.

They're… terrible to look at.

Wild. There was a fury in her eyes. Searing hot rage.

She didn't even look as though she'd registered the bullet hole in her left arm.

He hissed as he moved to pick himself up, using his good hand to do so. He wheezed, wondering how exactly he might still get out of this situation. How it might yet be salvaged.

"Tattletale told you how to find me, didn't she? Are you really so stupid as to trust her? She's just using you to do some other cri-"

"You seem to think I care." She bit out. "I have my shot at you, now. She could have used me to blow up the PRT building. I really wouldn't give a damn."

He stilled.

…

"The E-88 will be crawling all over this place in a few minutes. Do you think you'll survive them? You won't even-" A gunshot rang out, leaving him to throw himself to the side as he felt the bullet scrape off the side of his mask with a pitched shriek of metal.

"It's all because of you..." She hissed. "I told myself it would be me-" He saw tears of pure rage in her eyes, they shimmered like glass. But her voice was utterly cold. "I didn't lie this time…"

Dinah whimpered by the wall.

Militia barely noticed.

And Thomas felt his heart beating faster. His breathing hitching in his chest, an emotion he hadn't known for a very long time. He couldn't even really recall when he last felt it.

Fear.

Inch by inch he could feel the noose tighten around his neck, every last contingency...

...

He's lost.

It hit him like a train… Almost as painful as the gunshot to his hand.

He's always hated losing. Ever since he was a child he's always detested the very concept. The thought that someone, anyone, could get one over him. Could be better than him. Smarter. It made him sick to his stomach. He was called a sore loser a lot as a child, but he didn't care.

He'd worked all his life to excel. The Bay would have been reborn under his rule, a new economic boom, job creation, security. No more Kaiser, no more Lung. He would have made that all happen because he wanted to win. Because he simply abhorred losing, abhorred mediocrity.

Now…

He's lost...

What had taken him over a decade to build was being destroyed in less than ten minutes and he was completely incapable of stopping it.

And like an epiphany, it hit him.

Yes… he's lost. He's lost but this… the Bay didn't have to be the end of him. Didn't need to be the end of his ambition.

All he had to do was survive… survive and rebuild. Dinah would be beyond his reach, so would his previous resources, but he'd started his empire with less. He could do it again.

He just needed to survive…

Same as he survived Ellisburg…

"Very well… let's get this over with. I am well aware of my rights and legal privileges." He said…

"I surrender."

He saw her head tilt… the gun drop just an inch.

Then there's a deafening bang. A shot rang out and suddenly his kneecap exploded in a shower of gore.

"AAARGH!" He howled, falling to the ground. Blinding pain whitewashed every thought, his brain struggling to catch up with the sudden assault.

Somewhere, distantly, he heard her footsteps drawing closer as her voice lilted through his conscious mind.

"Is that how you expected this to work?"

Her voice… sounded wrong… off.

Malformed.

"That I would arrest you?"

He gasped and cried out in pain, trying to move, his hands twitching on the cold ground.

There's a kick to his side, one that drove the wind out of his lungs and rolled him onto his back.

He heard Dinah crying somewhere.

Absurdly, he wondered why the hell Militia hadn't dragged her away. It hardly fit with PRT protocol to do something like this. Much less in front of a witness. Much less in front of a witness who was also a chi-

Thomas opened his eyes and found her kneeling above him. "Suppose you expected me to follow protocol. Be a good heroine. Sell the good PR. Bring in the villain…"

The green energy flick flickered, rolling between her fingers like smoke.

"-is that what you figured?"

He's in too much pain to speak, he doubted she genuinely wanted his answer anyway.

"But you-" She suddenly hissed. "and everyone else seems to constantly forget something…"

The green energy shifted to a serrated knife, the wicked edge nearly gleaming. Unnaturally sharp.

"I wasn't always Miss Militia… I wasn't always the girl of red, white, and blue. I wasn't always Hannah Washington. I did many things before I became a Ward… a lot of things that gave me skills… skills I've never forgotten."

She took a slow, steadying breath.

"You hurt Taylor…"

The words were almost a whisper in his ear.

"I swore to myself I'd kill you when this started"

He sucked down a breath and coughed, razorblades sliding inside his throat as he tried to speak.

Her eyes glinted like cold steel as she brandished the knife, bringing it closer.

Her eyes looked colder than the steel.

"I'll make an effort not to enjoy this… but I expect you'll scream. That'll make it harder..."

He coughed. "I would have-I would have saved this hole." His vision swam, half delirious with pain. "I would have ruled the Bay.. made it… made it --"

A pause. He half wondered if she's still there.

…

"You're no savior." She answered.

Her voice was distant.

"You're nothing more than another warlord."

The earth trembled around them. Thunder in the world above.

She didn't notice.

"This'll be simple then." He heard her voice.

He couldn't recognize it.

"Killing Warlords is always simple."

(X)(X)(X)

My thanks again to our wonderful Betas for their work. I grant them one internet cookie (or cough medicine in Xegzy's case.)

Spoiler: Changelog:

Miss Militia is in a very good place right now. Don't you agree doctor?

Last edited: Jul 8, 2022

544

Ld1449

Jul 8, 2022

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Ld1449

Ld1449

To the last, Kill them all

Jul 8, 2022

#5,133

4.1

The city is burning.

Not literally. I don't see oceans of fire.

But standing on the rooftop of Lisa's apartment complex with Elle beside me, I can see it.

Like a slow, rolling wave of chaos, I see the city come alive. I can hear them: police, Firemen, ambulances, PRT, all answering to try and stem the tide.

Explosions bloom in the distance, waves of sound and force washing over the two of us.

Elle frets, sitting in a chair. She eyes the three sets of cellphones in front of her, waiting anxiously for a call.

If Lisa's plan was to anger the gangs into hunting Coil… I think she succeeded.

When the screams come… it's like an ocean. Rising. Reaching. Clawing at my ears as the sounds desperately try to climb high enough to find me.

Hundreds of wailing screams in the air…

It reminds me of something…

It reminds me of…

A time? Was it a time?

No… an event.

Not with Dad… Not with Mom.

Emma?

Was I standing with Emma?

Ahh yes. It was like that time before. Long before our friendship dissolved into bitter hatred.

When they came from across the sea.

On the day they slew Syan…

I remember...

"Taylor?"

I barely hear Elle's voice, but I feel her hand on my shoulder, cautious and tentative, shaking me.

I feel my whole body shudder, one hand rising to grip my head, a sudden headache lancing across my temples, boring through my skull.

I groan, rubbing the ache away when the pain fades as though it was never there.

I blink, trying to bring back the image that had passed, fleetingly, across my mind. A dull fog over my thoughts. I close my eyes, trying to focus.

When I open my eyes… things are worse.

The smoke rises now. Pillars of black climb into the air like great black trees holding up the world. The sound of sirens is all around us now, deafening.

I hear a phone ring, almost jumping in my skin.

Elle isn't much better. She startles, her hand pulling away from me before rushing towards the phone.

I turn, looking at her, listening as she answers.

"Fitts? Fitts, where are you!?"

I didn't hear her answer, turning again to look out across the city as a flash of something caught my eye by the north side.

The glimmer of light in the sky, like a bright white star.

Purity?

"What are you doing at the docks!?"

The word docks snaps through my head like a gunshot.

My mind blanks for a moment as if it's trying to remember what the docks even are before everything slowly reboots itself, snapping back into full awareness.

Dad…

W-why hadn't I even thought of Dad this whole time?

It was like… a shroud over my father, vanishing immediately, my brain finally remembering that he existed at all.

Dad was at the docks…

Fitts, Elle's friend, the one helping Lisa take down Coil, was at the docks.

Was Coil at the docks?

I looked from the apartment building rooftops, squinting into the distance towards the shoreline, past the boardwalk, to the north eastern side, near the Boat Graveyard.

I… I can't tell how close the fighting is.

The ash I've dispersed around the neighborhood stirred to life, answering the call; I feel Elle jump behind me when she notices, swirling whorls of grey rising before converging on me like a swarm of locusts.

Elle steps forward, hesitating, hands clasping together, trying to make herself seem small. "T-taylor?"

"I have to go." I say by way of answer.

I hear her cry to wait get caught in the wind before I jump down from the rooftop, my feet crunching on the gravel of another across from us as I start to run.

I see helicopters starting to take to the skies. I'm not sure who they're from. PRT, cops, news. Maybe all of the above.

In the distance, I can hear tires peeling and gunfire, with sirens accompanying them. I run across the street and into the alleyway. Stopping by a dumpster I set all the trash inside on fire.

The ash begins to crack and accumulate around me, forming a thicker armor before I continue. I see some police cars drive by at the end of the alleyway and jump back onto the roofs, grappling onto a fire escape before I use it to jump again onto the roof itself.

I rush to the edge, seeing vans and trucks with skinheads attacking an office building off in the distance.

I take a moment to orient myself with the lack of street signs up above and take off. Pounding across the tar roofing to leap towards the next building across the street. I spy some PRT agents forming a perimeter as some police officers move forward to engage the rioting gangsters.

I keep running, eventually moving back down to ground level after a couple of blocks, taking to the rooftops again as quickly as I can; trying to avoid the streets that are filled with gangsters, agents and pedestrians.

I hear a helicopter nearby. I pan my eyes, searching, finding it to the east as it passes right above me. Either that was a news chopper, or I have about twenty seconds until the PRT and police have my location.

Luckily, even if it wasn't a news chopper, the PRT have their hands full right now.

I reach the edge of the city before the oceanfront. I can hear waves crashing over the shore, the fires burning in the distance.

I keep moving.

As I approach the docks, I don't need to be a genius to see that there is indeed a fight.

Cars have bullet holes in them, tinker tech heat guns have scored holes in the sides of buildings and shipping containers. Old warehouses have been torn open, there are wounded people and civilians huddling in corners as a firefight that indicates the next fucking World War is happening just a street or so over.

I don't care. Let the gang war rage, let Coil and the E-88 duke it out, I have to get to the Union building.

It's a moving firefight across the streets, more than once I feel a bullet or a heat beam from a stray shot clip my armor but not break through. I catch sight of Krieg out of the corner of my eye and hear the Empire cape vaguely cursing as he catches sight of me.

The only moment I stop is when three tons moving at sixty miles per hour crashes into me like an oncoming train.

My ash moves onto me, reinforcing my body, strengthening my limbs. My legs carve a trench into the street, my arms collapse the front of the truck as both hands dig into the hood, tearing metal, wires and everything else.

The door opens.

And I'm staring at Lung.

He doesn't say anything, his iron dragon mask has tendrils of thin smoke rising from its nostrils and mouth, a faint heat shimmer beginning to form around him.

He steps around the car, facing me fully.

"You have two choices. Come along. Or I make you come along."

My palms itch as I tear them free of the gutted remains of the car, pulling free as I step back.

"Why are you after me?"

"You make messes." He answers, his body having already grown an inch at least. "I do not trust the Empire to clean up messes."

"How'd you find me?"

"All I needed to do was wait. You would show yourself. And you were not subtle." He answers with a shrug.

"Stay out of my way." I hiss.

I have to get to my dad.

…

Lisa hadn't mentioned him. Did Lisa know him? Legend hadn't mentioned him either…

Is he even still alive?

"Don't you have a score to settle with Coil?" I hiss. "Fuck off and let me pass."

Lung laughs. "He is already dead. His body just hasn't realized this yet."

He grins, showing his shark-like teeth. "Coil is merely a hare to be hunted for sport. It will be at my leisure, and nothing is lost from some other fool claiming such a small prize. You though, you are a beast much more apt for a challenge."

The tensing of his shoulders is the only warning I get before he rushes me in a full on tackle.

His body slams into mine, shoulder ducking low to press onto my sternum, lifting me off the ground.

He slams me into the wall and my fists come down over his spine and ribs, legs kicking out to hit him in the chest, thighs and stomach. I would have aimed for the groin if I had the chance.

He pulls away with an uppercut and I counter with a fistful of flame right to his face.

He grunts, arms rising to slam down in a hammerblow before all those grappling training sessions with the Wards and Miss Militia kick in. I step forward, into his guard, slipping under and around to get behind him. I grip at his arm with one limb while my other arm wraps around his neck from throat to nape, falling and pulling with brute strength and gravity.

Lung loses his footing and I squeeze and twist.

I'll either strangle him or snap his neck.

I hear him laugh instead.

His free hand reaches up, already glinting with metal scales along the back of his hand and up his arm all the way to the back of his head as he grips my hand and starts to pull.

My ash armor is strong. Unbelievably strong. Even so, I feel him, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, pulling my grip off, every passing second making it that much harder for me and that much easier for him.

My ash cloud comes, tearing into his body, ripping apart flesh. I hear him roar in pain, more ash entering through his mouth to tear up his insides.

Flames burst around us, not mine, his; his body bulks and shifts, bones snapping and stretching, regenerating as he struggles to get out of my grip.

He starts getting to his feet, carrying me with him.

I jump and kick with both legs, slamming my heels into his spine. He roars in pain but regains his footing quickly enough.

When he lurches, he tosses me clear over his shoulder. I lose my grip, hitting the ground with a roll.

I chuck two fireballs at his face only to see him tank it and laugh.

My ash cloud can't get through the scales anymore.

I hear him roar, and the glint of steel through the grey is easy to see as he charges.

As I duck, he turns faster than before with an uppercut that would have taken my head off.

I'm ready and manage to avoid the blow before shoving my clawed hand into his exposed armpit

My fingers punch through the steel.

I grip at whatever flesh I can reach and tear.

Lung howls in pain

The next thing I know Lung's foot is all but caving in my chest as he counters with a brutal kick that sends me smashing into the front of his Hummer, destroying what little of the car wasn't already burning.

I groan and push off the debris, and I can hear the cracking of ash as my statues come to life bringing their keening cries with them.

I feel their healing power wash over me, numbing the pain and aches as I get back to my feet.

Lung is now almost fully covered head to toe in steel scales, blood gushing from the wound, but he's completely unconcerned.

His neck hasn't elongated as I heard it could do, nor has he grown wings, but he is already becoming something less than human, more reptilian.

A flame burns in my hand.

Fireballs are already useless.

I change it.

It shrinks, concentrated, no longer a bomb but a sphere, a tiny sun of pure fire. All the energy stored in the center, ready to be unleashed rather than sputtering uselessly in the wind.

I throw it.

This time, I see liquid fire burst from the sphere like an exploding balloon, the heat rising to unbearable levels in an instant.

Lung howls in pain.

I back away but don't even make it a step before a clawed hand lashes out. I jump away, landing on my feet as I see a stream of white hot flame a second before it slams into my armor.

I breathe, and realize too late what a mistake that is.

Instead of air, I suck down fire into my nose, my mouth, my throat.

My lungs burn. I pull away, trying to scream now, feeling the heat burn on my insides. I feel the ash flooding my helmet and visor, protecting me as I hear the idols come to life around me to heal the worst of the damage.

I feel a hand at the back of my head and I can't even move before I'm slammed face first into the ground, once, twice, three times before I'm thrown like a rag doll.

I hit something, not sure what. When I come to a stop I cough and feel razors on my throat, bloody bile filling my mouth, nails through my chest. I move to pick myself up as I see Lung approaching.

His metallic scales are orange with heat. The metal shimmering as though it has just been pulled from a forge.

His mask had fallen off somewhere, and the face I see is reptilian. A row of teeth glinting, filed to a point, horns growing from the top of his skull.

He was becoming… a dragon.

I take a deep breath as I try to get back to my feet.

When he speaks his words are warped, I can barely understand them, his mouth having morphed to something inadequate for human speech.

I'm not sure what he said. So I answer with the best comeback I've got.

"Fuck off…" I curse, my head ringing like a bell.

Lung's eyes burn. Searing pits that don't even resemble what was once human.

Dragon.

I feel a tug at the back of my mind.

I groan, hand to my helmet as the tug gets stronger. Insistent. "What the…"

Dragon… Slaying...

I close my eyes for a second—an instant.

And I see it there, descending with the sun at its back. It lands before me, amongst the misty vale… bigger than the wyverns, bigger than the drakes. I can smell the stink of old blood in its mouth, its claws are blades, every rippling muscle of the beast powerful enough to tear down the castle walls of our keep. Its wings wide enough to darken the sky.

The King did not send me. He did not need to. I am his knight, and this is-

Knighthood's highest calling.

My hands rise, gripping my skull. "Who… What… get-get out of my head!"

"Hrgh?" Lung tilts his head.

"Get out of my head…" I mutter, shutting my eyes, trying to find some peace in the Dark where I had such comfort once.

And there, I see the armored hand reach out.

I follow it and see him.

A knight in black.

I can't see what's inside the visor. Only emptiness. His gauntlet was closing in on me…

What?

I can only hear the light rumble of a growl as if the knight was a beast of sorts in human clothing.

I pull away.

"Get out of my head! No! Get out!"

It's a song I hear. It soothes and comforts.

Brings peace.

I recognize the sound. It's-

It's mom's flute.

She plays this for me when she wants me to sleep.

Mother wants me to sleep now...

I see the black knight retreat into the darkness, unseen, and I see mother's tender pale hand, wedding ring and all reaching for me.

"But… but I..."

"Dragons are dangerous beasts, daughter…"

…

I reach. I reach out to grasp the hand. Her hand.

I see the ring.

Banded iron. Cold steel.

…

That's not dad's wedding ring.

And suddenly, I am frightened.

The hand, my mother's hand, changes right before my eyes, becoming something different. I try to follow it, to see its owner, but find only blackness.

I turn my eyes back to what was once mother's hand.

The features crumble away, the skin cracks and peels back. The delicate fingers warp and lengthen with too many knuckles; claws grow where nails once stood, seven digits instead of five, a grotesque mockery as though someone who has forgotten what humans looked like is trying to mimic a human limb.

"Sleep my Little Owl. Sleep. Let us protect you now…"

The velvet voice is still there but not, a duality stood out to me now where there was none before.

This is-

And the hand closes in, wrapping around me.

The song goes on.

I scream before I'm dragged down.

Down into dark.

What's happening to me!

I was… I was being used.

I've been used.

Violated...

I need help…

Dad!

Lisa!

Someone!

Anyone!

Get me out!

Get me out!

I don't want to stay here anymore with the blood and the bile!

Let me out!

LetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeoutLetmeout

I don't want to be in the locker anymore! I was out! I was out!

I WAS OUT!!!

God, please!

Anyone!!

HELP ME!!!

I'm brought close, and… Mom's hand caresses my cheek.

My lips move, but no words come out.

Then…

I smile.

The Dark… It is peaceful… a deep peace.

I listen to the song of my mother's flute as I sleep.

(X)(X)(X)

My thanks again go out to Xegzy and @Icipall

Spoiler: Changelog:

Lungs motivation here is twofold for those wondering. 1) He wants to see what all the fuss is about. 2) He actually wants Legend and the PRT to stop annoying him. Fastest way to do that is to give them this annoying pissant of a Ward. Sooner that happens, the happier he is.

Last edited: Jul 9, 2022

426

Ld1449

Jul 8, 2022

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