I was categorized as a Breaker, but if one were to get highly specific, I would also have a couple sub-classifications. My shadow form offered reduced visibility, but with a great deal of effort, I could further disperse myself over a larger area to be nearly transparent. This was a Stranger effect, but it was uncomfortable and borderline painful to achieve and maintain. That my movement and senses of perception were greatly hindered made the ability impractical for regular use.

Much better than that was the added Mover capability. When timed correctly my power's activation could launch me quickly over great distances, horizontal or even vertical. When running uninhibited along level rooftops, I could outpace cars if frequent turns and city traffic were factored in. That quick mode of travel was thrilling.

Walking was slow and boring. And I found myself having to walk with Pest because her powers offered no extra maneuverability. It was like a Ward patrol except this time we didn't want to be seen. We traveled north, taking a detour around the busy Boardwalk. The sun was down, but it would be another hour before the streets really cleared out of pedestrians.

My companion's power was immensely useful for remaining unnoticed. She sent bugs ahead of our path to identify people that we wanted to avoid. She could even tell what direction they were facing and traveling in. I only told her what general direction to go, and then she took the lead.

"A group of young people are hanging around up ahead, just out of view. We'll take this left and then the next right."

I got the impression that Pest was trying to impress me. Our indirect path zigzagged through side streets and alleys, but I never saw a single person. A short distance from the boardwalk and the city streets got more deserted as we pressed further into the largely rundown docks area of Brockton Bay.

Along the way Pest shared little tidbits like how far her powers extended, and how she interpreted the information she received from the numerous bugs' limited senses of sight and hearing. She occasionally interrupted her own explanations to mention an approaching civilian and to direct our path down an alternate route.

She was very forthcoming, and to make the exchange of info seem a little less one-sided I opted to tell her about my Breaker form giving me a speed boost. It was a harmless fact that anyone could figure out just from seeing me in action. There were videos online of me zipping around and scaling walls as a shadowy blob.

Finally, I made us stop. We were in an area of the docks that well meaning people avoided. It was not very far from the residential apartment area where I first encountered Pest a few days ago.

I pointed north through a building, "Is there anyone in that direction?"

After a few seconds she answered, "The closest people are two men smoking outside of a building that way. They're standing next to a really big opening in the building." She added after another moment, "I think it's an open garage door, except it's a lot bigger than a normal house garage."

"Good, follow me. We need to get to the roofs."

I could easily climb a building, but Pest needed a more accessible way up. I knew the layout of the immediate area. There were no emergency stairs or ladders here where the buildings were generally short, but further down the street was an abandoned sports club. The place was supposed to have been pretty high-class twenty years ago, but now it was just a canvas for punks to practice their gang tags.

There were outdoor tennis courts enclosed by brick walls that were about ten feet tall. Besides being accessed from within the sports club, the courts could be accessed street side by a chainlink gate. The gate was shorter than the brick walls on either side of it.

With a quick start I took a big step, bent my knees, swung my arms with the motion, and leapt straight up. My power's activation lifted me up to the roof of the sports club.

I looked back down at my partner, "What are you waiting for?"

I expected her to offer some kind of complaint, but she looked at the chainlink gate, and then swept her gaze along the brick wall to the roof where I stood. Apparently she figured it out.

Pest approached the gate and reached up to grab hold. She lifted off the ground and planted one foot on the small gate latch then hauled herself up and braced against the taller brick wall. After getting her feet at the top of the gate, she carefully pulled herself onto the narrow brick wall. She held her arms out for balance and traversed along the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. Then it was a small matter of stepping up onto the club roof beside me.

"Easy," she said.

The sports club had only one floor level, but the decorative roof had two tiers. From the first we climbed onto the second. From the second we made a short running jump to the roof of the next building. A few more similar jumps had us right where we needed to be.

Down below and across the way was a garage building with three large bay doors. The leftmost door was up, and light spilled out and over two men of east-Asian ethnicity smoking just outside. Hydraulic car lifts, toolboxes, and machinery could be seen through the open portal.

I took a knee by the edge of the roof. Pest mirrored me.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"It's a chop shop. They bring stolen cars here, tear off all the valuable bits, and ship those parts somewhere else to be sold. You and I are going to wreck it."

With perfect timing a car pulled up to the building with its headlights turned off. The driver spoke to the two men then drove the car inside. The men stepped in behind the car, and the bay door slowly closed.

Pest nodded in compliance and studied the building and the two men, "It must be aligned with the Asian Bad Boys."

"Or at the very least it does business with ABB. Either way these guys are up to trouble. It's a good opportunity to see what you're made of. You know, one that doesn't involve a fire breathing dragon-man."

She mused, "Right. And these guys aren't robbing stores and corporations; they're stealing regular people's means of transportation. I'm in."

"So you're okay with crimes against corporations and big business. Is that how you justify running with your new friends?"

"I didn't mean it like that," she defended, "It's just that crime feels slimier when the victims have real names and faces."

"Anyway, regarding the garage and the layout-"

Pest interrupted me, "Already on it. I've got bugs moving in discreetly. I'll have the place fully mapped out and the cronies tagged in no time. Umm… I don't suppose you have something to draw on?"

I was going to tell her that I had already cased the place and knew the ins and outs, but I let her take the initiative. I retrieved a small notepad and pen from my utility belt and passed them over. She started to carefully make lines.

It was during my prowls in the recent month that I had identified the chop shop. It was in the news that citywide car theft was on the rise. Organized gang activity was blamed. Police enforcement had tried bugging 'trap cars' for criminals to steal, and there had been a few busts, but no great headway had been made. This chop shop was probably one of many in Brockton Bay.

After identifying the site, I had searched the internet and found that the building had once been a municipal servicing station for city owned vehicles like busses and trash trucks. It was technically outside the bounds of what the authorities considered to be core ABB territory, but the red and green graffiti suggested otherwise.

I should have reported it or made an anonymous tip, but I planned to turn in into an opportunity. If I ever found myself needing some leeway with Armsmaster, I could give him all of my recon information on this place. Glory for the takedown would be his, and impunity would be mine. Oh, and the bad guys would be stopped too.

"Shadow Stalker." Pest was still scribbling when she spoke up, "You don't have to be quiet. I can use my powers, doodle, and talk at the same time."

Pest's power classification, Master, was generally assumed to require total concentration. Like how a puppeteer focuses all his attention on manipulating the strings of a marionette. That assumption was actually a fabrication by the PRT in effort to limit public fear at the possibility of being controlled by capes. The truth is that most Masters can use their power as easily as they can breathe.

I thought for a second. "Hmm, tell me about Sunday night. How did you get drawn into a fight with Lung?"

That she could control not one, not a handful, but several hundred or even thousands of subjects at once, and then have a conversation while simultaneously drawing a floor plan… it was a little chilling. Even if it was just limited to bugs.

"I wanted to wait for a better opportunity to go out in costume for the first time. But real life had just punched me in the gut, and I guess I had a chip on my shoulder. I needed to feel like I was in control for once."

I nodded, though she kept her attention on the notepad.

She continued, "Lung was an accident. I encountered a group of thugs, recognized the big guy, and decided to eavesdrop. They were gearing up for something, then I heard them mention they were going to kill some kids. I didn't have a phone to call anyone because, you know, I was unprepared. So I just tried to stall him until some heroes took notice and showed up."

"Which we eventually did," I put in.

"Mm-hmm. And it turns out those kids were actually the teenage Undersiders. They were somewhere else fighting Oni Lee, and Lung never got to join that fight because he was busy with me."

I had to stop myself from asking about the Undersiders, as Pest's earlier hinted threat of a partially omnipotent Thinker still loomed over my head. Her explanation just now indicated that the Undersiders were all teenagers. The PRT already knew Hellhound's bio and had strong suspicions of Regent's. Tattletale was a blank, but her physique leaned towards youth. Grue being a teen was a surprise. He was tall and burly, that I had assumed he was a fully developed adult male.

It didn't matter. I still wanted him dead.

"Thanks, by the way," Pest said. "I didn't see what you did, but I know you did something to make Lung turn away from me on that rooftop."

"No problem. Saving idiots is my job." She huffed at that, then I added, "It's a good thing your suit is fire proof. I'm impressed that your costume is so high quality when you're still so new to this. Where'd you get it?"

She jumped at the opportunity to explain, "I made it myself. There's no way I could afford something this good. It's actually made of woven spider web from black widows."

"Whoa, really?" I was genuinely impressed.

Pest held a hand out for me to get a closer look at the material. Looking closely I could see the tiny overlapping fibers. It was very form fitting, even around the fingers, yet it didn't look constrictive.

She continued, "For having such a low density spider web has a ridiculous tensile strength. I didn't know it was flame resistant until the other night when I was nearly roasted. It's cut and stab resistant too, but I wouldn't want to run into somebody's knife or sword."

I had a high quality multi-tool that was standard kit for many Protectorate capes. It had a small blade that couldn't hardly be considered a weapon, but I always kept it razor sharp anyway. I flipped out the blade and ran the cutting edge over the back of Pest's gloved hand. There was no cut.

She recoiled and jerked her hand away. "What the hell!" she quietly yelped.

"Just testing it. That spider web is good stuff. Kind of gross though."

I folded up the multi-tool and replaced it in its pouch on my harness. When I looked back, Pest was brandishing a long fixed blade knife that looked comically large in her hand.

"Mind if I try yours?" she asked sharply.

I was nonchalant, "Whatever," but I kept an eye on her until she replaced the knife behind her back.

Pest went into detail about the process of making her own costume. She was turning out to be a chatterbox, and it surprised me. There was a certain quality to her voice that sounded a little shaky and unsure. Like she wasn't confident of her own words and worried she might say something wrong or else fail speaking entirely. If I had to guess, I'd say she was a loner and didn't have many friends. Not unusual for young capes. This was probably the most exercise her voice had in a long time.

There was a brief lull in her talking, and I motioned to the notebook sketch that she had finished several minutes ago, "Are you done with the building layout?"

"Yeah, I've just been watching their behavior."

She scooted closer and showed me her work. It was a big rectangle with marks along one of the longer sides to denote the three bay doors. I had seen the inside of the facility before so I knew exactly what I was looking at. There were rows of toolboxes and shelves that divided the floor into different sections. The left most section was where the car was being pieced apart. The middle area was storage for parts on tall racks and engines that were placed on pallets. The right section was crammed with gutted car bodies. At the back right corner was a small enclosed office and adjacent bathroom.

Pest asked, "Does this make any sense?"

"It does," I answered. And it did. The plan was mostly squares and rectangles but she had included small labels like car, shelf, BR, and office. It was very comprehensible.

"This left area is where the car is being taken apart." She pointed at two very small beetles that were stationary on the paper, "These two guys are working on the car," then she moved her finger to another beetle that was moving, "and this guy has been walking around and talking on a cell phone. The last guy is in the little office. There's a safe in there too."

I falsely exasperated, "Such a villain. Anticipating the loot already?"

"No," she retorted, "There's probably important stuff in there. Evidence stuff."

"We're not here for evidence." I stood up and shook out my legs. "We're taking this place down.

Pest took a deep breath and let it out, "Okay, what's the plan?"

I thought for a moment and said, "You decide. If you were taking these guys on alone, what would you do? Imagine the goal is to secure the evidence in the safe."

She immediately answered, "I would chase them out of the building with bugs. They'd never see me. Easy."

"But the secondary goal is to capture the goons," I added, "what then?"

"So I need to incapacitate them on my own?" She paused, "My powers really aren't suitable for that."

"But if you really had to," I urged her, "and you didn't have any backup."

"Well, if I attack with my bugs they might just lie down and cower. But it's more likely that they would run away. A person will go into shock or their throat could swell if they're stung too many times, even if they're not specifically allergic to bees. I carry epinephrine injections in case that happens."

"Is that what EpiPens are?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I have the off-brand ones." She fiddled behind her back where there was some sort of container attached to her costume. "I have a baton now. I could get close and hit them while they're distracted by my swarm. The knees might be a good target. And I can make bugs crawl into their mouth to block the airway until they pass out from suffocation. I know it sounds extreme, but it should technically be safer than making their throat swell shut."

That last one had my eyebrows rising. "Go with the baton this time," I suggested.

"Are you making me do this alone?" she asked.

"No, but I want you to try taking the two on the car. I'll take the third. The office guy will probably take a moment to react and join the fray. I'll be right in his path if he comes out of the office."

She nodded, "Alright, the third guy is pacing by the back door, opposite the middle garage door.

"That will be my point of entry. My power will get me through it, locked or otherwise."

"But how do I get in?" She asked. "I don't think my bugs weigh enough to activate the garage door control."

"They already had a stolen car delivered tonight. If another were to arrive, the driver would probably bang on the garage door."

She was skeptical, "Really?"

I shrugged then looked behind us and flinched. The roof we were standing on was shimmering. It was bugs. A thousand glittering little carapaces or close to it. They were completely silent and arranged in orderly rows, awaiting commands like soldiers.

"I've been gathering a swarm for the infiltration," Pest offered for an explanation.

I hadn't heard or detected the swarm at all. They all turned in unison and scurried to the edge of the roof then disappeared over the side. I turned back to my temporary partner and pulled out a tightly wound coil of paracord.

"Do you know how to rappel?"

Her lack of a response told me that she didn't. It probably would have been faster to back track across the roofs and climb down the same way she got up before, but after wrapping my cord around an exhaust implement on the roof and lowering Pest to the ground in a hastily knotted harness, we were ready to go.

"I'll wait for you to initiate the breach. Here," I shoved a handful of heavy duty zip-ties at her. Then I hurried around the building to the back door.

There was a small window in the door. Through it I could see that my target was still pacing a small line and talking, or rather shouting, on the phone. There was a radio somewhere out of site that was blasting the 'Party Rock' song that all the boys at school loved. Looking at an angle, I could also see the other two guys working on the car. One was inside the car pulling apart the dash, and sparks shot out from underneath the car where the other guy had crawled, leaving only his legs exposed. I waited.

After just a few seconds I saw the big garage door in front of the car rattle. The thugs didn't notice, and after another moment the door rattled again. The guy working inside the car poked his head out and looked at the door, and then we both watched it rattle a third time.

The guy stepped out and kicked his partner's foot, prompting him to slide out on a mechanic's creeper. They had an inaudible yelling exchange with the standing guy pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the garage door. The ground guy slid back under the car, and the first guy went to the door and pushed a button on the wall.

As soon as the retracting door cleared the floor a dark mass poured through the opening gap. That was my cue. I activated my power and moved forward, focusing on the glass window because it was much easier to pass through than the thick metal door.

I reformed on the other side to see my target's back. He had just seen a floating black mass convalesce over his buddy across the room. His phone slid from his hand and cracked on the concrete floor.

I kicked the back of his leg and he dropped onto his hands and knees. He didn't have time to look around at his attacker before I went down with him and took his back. My legs wrapped around his waist and my right arm snaked around and under his chin. I secured my right hand in the nook of my left elbow. Then I flexed my arms and squeezed. The rear naked choke had the man unconscious in about seven seconds.

I shot a glance at the office door. It remained undisturbed despite the shouts coming from Pest's side of the chop shop. The annoying music was still really loud. I looked over towards Pest. There were bugs swarming all around that end of the shop. The first guy had dived into the car and was thrashing about in the passenger seat. Pest was leaning in through the driver's side and swatting at his flailing limbs with her baton. The second guy's legs were thrashing from underneath the vehicle. She had things under control.

I zip-tied my limp opponent's hands behind his back. Then I tied his feet together by threading a zip-tie through the pull tabs on the backs of his sneakers. Lastly I fastened the two restraints together with a third zip-tie so that he was properly hogtied. There was a greasy tarp on the floor that I picked up and draped over him. After checking the office door again I joined Pest.

The man in the car had one hand zip-tied to the steering wheel, one foot tied to the slide lever under the passenger seat, and the other foot tied to the emergency handle by the passenger headspace. I laughed. His free hand swatted at bugs that were still swarming his face.

Pest was stepping back around the side of the car. We both stood over the other guy's legs. She shrugged and pointed down at the kicking legs as if to say, what now? I made a sweeping 'go ahead' gesture.

She bent down to grab a leg and pulled. He slid out easily because he still lay on the roller. The man's eyes were nearly swollen shut or maybe he was just an Asian with a really pudgy face. He coughed and wiped at his face where bugs crawled, and I looked at Pest to ask if he was having an allergic fit. But she had already wound up a swing with her baton and was bringing it down across his midsection. She swung again, and I got in a few kicks of my own.

Pest pulled him a little farther out on the creeper and zip-tied his feet around a floor-to-ceiling metal support pole. I tied his hands to the spokes of the car's wheel.

Pest found the radio on a workbench and shut if off just as the irritating song ended. It was suddenly very quiet, except for the gasps and moans from the men we had beaten.

"I don't like that song," Pest said.

"It's repetitive and obnoxious," I agreed.

"Lady Gaga's new album comes out next month. Hopefully it'll push those guys off the radio."

She talked like she hadn't just beat up a couple adult men.

"Yeah, I like her," I said, "not as much as my friend does though."

She replied, "Oh yeah, my best friend in middle school was crazy about Gaga. We didn't really understand all the lyrics back then."

I chuckled at that, and then looked over the man stretched out on the floor and the man strung up in the car.

Pest piped up, "I'll choke them with a bug if they get too loud. They've already figured out that they need to keep quiet."

She was proving to be surprisingly savage. I liked it. We moved toward the office door.

"The last goon is still in there," Pest said.

I stood off to the side in case the guy started shooting a gun through the door, checked that Pest was also out of the way, and then knocked. The door felt cheap and flimsy. Some irritated sounding yell came back.

Though I couldn't speak the languages, I could recognize the sound of Japanese, Chinese, and Korean. This didn't sound like any of those. Maybe something from the Indochina region. I leaned my head in against the door to listen. There were some crinkling and crunching sounds in the room.

"I don't think he's on to us," I said quietly

"He has earbuds in. He's just sitting there eating chips," Pest explained.

Oh yeah, she has eyes and ears in there.

"Do you know the proper way to kick a door in?" I asked.

"You're supposed to kick," she pointed to a spot on the door next to the handle, "and plant your heel next to the lock, but I've never tried it."

I motioned, "This door's pretty thin," and stepped back. "Give it a try."

She did so.

After being recruited into the Wards, I had been sent to an out-of-state training camp where I was taught stuff like kicking in doors. Pest's technique looked as good as anyone's.

As soon as the door flew open I charged in with my crossbow trained. The Asian man sitting behind the desk and laptop had huge eyes like a deer in headlights. I hopped onto the desk and kicked him in the face just as he yelled and spit out crumbled chips. He tipped backwards in the swivel chair and went down to the floor.

I stepped down to the floor with him. I set my crossbow on the desk and spared a glance at the laptop screen. I had expected to see some kind of nasty porn, because I had observed that gang members loved to casually watch porn for some reason, but it was just low resolution anime with subtitles.

I focused on the prey. His eyes were unfocused and fearful, and his lip was cut open from my kick. He held up one hand to fend me off, which I grabbed at the wrist. I checked his other hand to be sure he wasn't reaching for a weapon. He wasn't; that hand was planted on the floor. I stomped on it for good measure. He squeezed his eyes shut and yowled.

To the side of the room, and underneath a foldout table, was the safe Pest had mentioned. I bent the victim's hand at awkward angle, which prompted a squeal, and hauled it over to the safe. There was no resistance. I grabbed it by the head and shoved it down.

"Open the safe!" I growled.

It said something, but talking didn't make the safe open. It was on its knees, and I stomped down twice on the back of a calf, eliciting a pained shriek.

"Open the safe!" I commanded.

It still tried to talk. It waved a hand with fingers that were bent out of shape. But waving didn't make the safe open. I tightly knotted my fist in its hair.

"Open the safe!" I screamed.

I smashed its face into hard steel… once… twice… and then there were hands on me. Pushing and pulling. Offensive hands that grabbed. Accompanied by a voice that yelled.

I roared and threw off my attacker because I was stronger now. I reached for my crossbow, but it wasn't on my belt. I had placed it on the desk.

Ygr jrt ud ub ygr frdj

There was an enemy.

Yge jet id ib yge fedj

It was dark with yellow eyes.

Yhe jey is in yhe fedk

It was my pest.

The key is in the fesk

She was yelling.

"Are you listening? He said the key is in the desk!" She pointed at me with her baton and warned, "You're taking this too far, Shadow Stalker!"

I had been shoved away. Pest was standing defensively over the ABB member who had partway scampered under the desk. He covered his face and whimpered. I saw blood.

"The very first thing he said was that the key was in the desk," Pest was still shouting. She turned just enough to yank a desk drawer open. She immediately pulled out a small key without needing to rummage.

"See," she said, nearly shoving the key in my face, "it was right here. He didn't deserve that!"

Didn't deserve… but he was a criminal. He was prey. Yesterday he had been a victimizer and today he was the victim. There's always a bigger fish. It was a fundamental law observed by nature.

I snatched the key and suddenly found that I had words. Angry words.

I jabbed as sharp finger at Pest, "Don't think for a second that this asshole doesn't deserve to have his face rearranged. You said yourself that these guys were extra scummy for robbing regular people of their cars. You're right! Everyone in the city is suffering because of this gang scum, no matter what the tourism sector wants us to think. Most people with a car can't afford more than mandatory liability insurance, meaning if their shit gets stolen they get no reimbursement. They're just fucked!"

"And this trash here," I pointed at the cowering lump of a man, "that mark on the skin between his index finger and thumb means he's a full member of ABB. Full membership isn't awarded for stealing a couple cars. What do you suppose he did, Pest? Murder? Kidnapping and sex trafficking? Was it women, or maybe children? You don't see all the missing person reports that I do."

She had arms crossed over her chest, obviously not enjoying this information. Pest needed to have this point drilled into her head. The world didn't need another righteous hero who was afraid to bloody their gavel.

People liked to act smart and talk about the 'gray line'. There was no gray. Everything was black and white, yes and no, right and wrong. Making exceptions is what gave criminals confidence to break the law. Just as it was easy to talk shit if you weren't worried about getting punched in the mouth, it was easy to rob and rape if you weren't worried about getting shot in the head.

I pulled a loose tranquilizer bolt from my belt and stuck it in the ABB member's leg. Pest didn't try to stop me. This guy wouldn't remember seeing Shadow Stalker, and the other three goons never saw me to begin with. I pocketed the spent tranq.

I directed at Pest, "Do your parents have a vehicle? I bet they'd be in deep shit if it went missing."

After several seconds of silence she said, "My dad. We'd probably be in trouble if he lost his car."

"Capes don't come from rich parents," I acknowledged.

"And the more these guys steal…" Pest started and then stopped.

"The more the coverage prices go up, and the worse life gets for everybody" I tacked on. "These scumbags are a plague."

I kicked the scumbag at our feet to punctuate my point, and Pest didn't protest. I wished he was still conscious so I could hear him grunt in pain.

I moved to the safe, crouched down, and opened it. "Whoa."

Pest moved to a position over my shoulder. "Oh wow. Is that a lot?"

It was way more than I expected from a place like this. The cash stacks were banded with rubber bands and not uniform like freshly circulated bills from a bank, but I estimated there was around eight or ten thousand in the safe, mostly twenties. There were also some baggies of dirty brown heroin and a small caliber revolver.

I turned to my companion, "You're going to take this and use it to further ingratiate yourself with your marks." I was careful not to say Undersiders aloud. "Spin a story about how you saw an ABB grunt and decided to follow him to this chop shop."

There was an Adidas drawstring bag conveniently next to the safe. I started stuffing the cash in it.

"I'm not sure that will fly with… you know."

The Thinker.

"They're villains. They like money. Just don't give more details than necessary. Do you want the gun?" I asked then added, "Leaving it would help the police pin these gang members. I'll make an anonymous call with a tip when we leave."

"Leave it then. And no, I don't want the drugs either."

I tightened the drawstrings then gave the bag to Pest. She held it out at arm's length for a moment then slung it over her shoulder.

"You'll think of something, Secret Agent Pest," and I gave her arm a pat. I had shown her more of myself than I really wanted, but she seemed alright with it now. In fact, she was surprisingly open to my more unsavory methods.

We walked outside the building through the open garage portal, passing my first target on the floor who was squirming under the tarp.

"I won't try to talk you out of your spy mission again, but next time we meet the circumstances might dictate that we will be enemies."

Her face was concealed by the mask, but it looked like she wanted to tell me something. I waited.

She said, "We made a good team."

Alright then.

"We did," I agreed. "And pest jokes aside, you really need to come up with a name before someone else does it for you."

"Easier said than done," she muttered.

After an exchange of goodbyes she started on her way into the dark streets. When she was about twenty paces away I extended my arm and leveled my crossbow at her. I placed the back of her head with its long curls in my sights and put the barest pressure on the trigger.

…

Make the right call, Pest.

"Bang," I whispered to myself and lowered my weapon.

I collapsed my crossbow and clipped it to my harness. Time to go. But first… I reached into my cloak and withdrew the recording device. I held it close to my face, activated it, then I spoke quietly and gave a very thorough description of Pest's abilities and what I had gleaned of her personality through our interactions.

It was a fault that nearly every cape had, hero and villain alike, myself included. We liked to show off. If you give a cape an opportunity to strut, they'll dance. And Pest had been very eager to practice her ballet tonight.

"Her control over a bug is very fine. She can control when they move, how fast they move, whether they crawl or fly, when and how many times they bite or sting."

I rehashed everything she had so eagerly shared with me about her Master control, from the range to the scouting and tracking functionality to the potentially viscous offensive capability.

"She's definitely a teenager. Quick on the uptake but kinda naïve. I only asked her very simple questions about her abilities and she offered way more information than was necessary."

That should do it. I made to turn off the recorder before quickly adding, "She would make a good addition to the Wards."

Then I left the chop shop behind. My little opinion at the end of the analysis had been unnecessary, but I had wanted to include it. Regardless, I expected that Armsmaster would be pleasantly surprised with all the intel I gathered on Pest. Enough so that he wouldn't be interested in how I had gathered it.

I hoped the intel wouldn't be necessary… well, hope is too strong a word. Rather, I did not look forward to seeing it get put to use.