Previously, on Freakout…

"Wait, healed a cat?"

"Hey, Freakazoid!, I've got two VIP tickets to the Boston Broccoli Bash. Wanna—"

"Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

"Oh, and if you and Freakazoid! don't work out because you have nothing in common, could you let her know my friend Taylor would be perfect for her? Thanks!"

"I know what you mean. Oh, by the way, an Endbringer's attacking Brockton Bay. You might want to do something about that."

"Two words," Armsmaster gritted out, eyes fixed on the spot where the two had vanished, "Simurghed Freakazoid!."

In the darkness at the edge of space, two figures floated freely, a loose cloud of rocks and debris obscuring them from the view of any Earthly observers. The larger of the two, an extremely tall and thin pale woman with a large number of wings randomly growing from her body gazed dispassionately at the other, the hero Freakazoid!. Freakazoid! took a deep breath, noticing that there was somehow air around them, as she glared at the Endbringer.

"I want some answers," she growled, clenching her fists. "What's your interest in me? Why did you make me… Taylor… into Freakazoid!?"

"Why did I do it?" asked the Simurgh in a perfectly normal voice, making the hero's eyes go wide. "Mold you from the rough lump of clay you were into the work of art you are now? Why, I did it for a dear, sweet friend of mine from another Earth."

With an elegant gesture of a pale hand, a pinhole of blue light appeared and quickly expanded into an oval outlining an area of pure darkness. Freakazoid! tensed and readied herself as she stared at what she instinctively knew was a portal to somewhere else. After no more than a second or two, the portal seemed to ripple and a form emerged. She intently studied the newcomer—it seemed to be a human, nothing special, a bearded man in his 40s or so, wearing jeans, a button-up shirt, glasses, and a baseball cap. Freakazoid! frowned as she realized he seemed kind of familiar. Wait a second, add about 30 years or so to him and…

"Steven Spielberg?!"

"I'm a huge fan," the famous director said as he floated over and produced an autograph book and pen.

"This is the reason for the years of torment and the outright theft of people's lives?" demanded Freakazoid! as she signed the autograph book and presented her own to be signed. "Because Steven Spielberg is a fan?!"

"What?" asked Steven, aghast, "Torment? Theft of people's lives? I-I wouldn't want anyone to suffer because of me!"

"I'm sowwy, Steven… I thought the powers would make up for it," cooed the Simurgh.

Freakazoid!'s loud hmph and crossed arms indicated otherwise.

"Ziz, you've got to make this right," Steven appealed, looking stricken, "Please, you have to..."

"I will," promised the Simurgh as the distraught Hollywood legend floated back through the portal and vanished.

"You need to make it up to Emma and Sophia too," Freakazoid! demanded. As the Endrbinger fixed her with a cold alien stare, all traces of humanity gone from her face, the hero swallowed and added, "Steven would want you to."

The Simurgh sighed dreamily and her gaze softened. "He would… Very well. Consider this a down payment of what you so richly deserve."

Freakazoid! watched warily as a mass of a pale clay-like substance emerged from the portal, and before her eyes, formed itself into a copy of the Simurgh. "Um…"

The original Endbringer blew the hero a kiss and flew into the portal. "Steven, I'm—" she said before it vanished, cutting off her words.

Freakazoid! looked at the duplicate Simurgh floating before her. "So, now—"

There was a bright flash and a kinetic shockwave scattered the debris, sending the two of them rocketing toward Earth on different trajectories, flames engulfing the ersatz Simurgh. Moments later, Freakazoid! splashed down in a lake, sending a plume of water high into the air. The other, larger figure plowed into a secret base concealed beneath downtown Brockton Bay.

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Staggering out of the lake, Freakazoid! pulled out her phone. After taking a moment to check her location, she tapped out a brief message and put it away again. She leaned against a tree for a few breaths before setting off at a tired jog. When she eventually emerged from the forest, she carefully made sure there were no witnesses before breathing, "Freak in."

I slumped back against a tree. What? The Simurgh! Portals! Steven Spielberg! I—Taylor dot exe has stopped working and needs to close.

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Warmth and the rich flavor of chocolate filled my mouth. I swallowed the creamy liquid in my mouth and sighed. I smacked my lips a few times, then frowned. "This isn't hot cocoa."

"It's drinking chocolate," said Emma's mom. "It's made from melted chocolate and milk instead of powder."

"It's wonderful. I think you've ruined cocoa for me, thou—ACK!"

"Taylor, We were so worried about you!" Dad cried as he assaulted me with a hug. Emma jumped in as an accessory; at least her parents stood by as lookouts instead of joining in.

"Mmmph mmmph?" They stopped grappling me and stepped back so I could try again. "What happened?"

Dad sighed and ran his hands through what was left of his hair. "We don't know, kiddo, you came home and were pretty much in shock. You weren't hurt, though. We were hoping you could tell us what happened. If it isn't too horrible to talk about…"

I took a deep breath. "I saw … the Simurgh," I said, not having to fake a shiver. "Wait, the Simurgh was in the city and I came back all out of it. Aren't you concerned I'm…" I pointed at the side of my head and moved my hand in a circular motion.

Emma actually bounced up and down. "Freakazoid! took her down!" she squealed. "And she never even started singing, so you're fine!"

"Oh… Oh, that's good." I looked around. "Where are we, anyway?"

"We're in the Barnes's cabin," Dad said. "We decided it'd be best to get out of the city for a while, especially considering your condition."

"Fortunately, I knew a back way that wasn't full of traffic yet," Mr. Barnes said, looking very self-satisfied.

"Oh. Thank you for letting us stay here."

"Please, Taylor, you're like family," said Mrs. Barnes with a smile.

I smiled back and gave a little shrug. "Well, thanks anyway. How long are we staying here, by the way?"

"Five days," said Dad. "We're all going to relax, have fun, and avoid all the chaos going on back in the city."

"Oh, that sounds nice," I said as I looked around the 'cabin' that looked fancier than our house. I stopped as I caught sight of my shirt. "This isn't what I was wearing…"

"Oh, your clothes were pretty muddy and messed up," said Mrs. Barnes, "so I got you cleaned up and changed before we left."

"Thanks," I said as I started patting around my pockets, casually at first and then worriedly. "Uh, where's my phone?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Taylor. I must have left it with your other clothes. Don't worry, though, they're only in your hamper, not the washing machine. It'll be perfectly safe until you get home."

My phone! My preciousss! Out of reach for a week! No texts! No internet! No! I can't—Taylor dot exe has stopped working and needs to close.