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Somewhere on Earth-Gimel, Wednesday 1 January 2014, dawn…

The woman born Ciara Coinmheadh somewhere in distant Ireland in an age long since past in her mind seemed to remain still as she allowed her attendants' powers to reach out towards that ghastly monstrosity called the "City" to mentally locate certain individuals who had knowledge of the shocking events of a half-year before — a mere pittance of time for beings such as herself, of course — so as to ascertain the true fate of the Queen Administrator who had risen against the faeries' errant father and…

Wait…

There…

Closing her eyes, the woman known to parahuman pundits on Gimel and elsewhere as Glaistig Uaine relaxed herself as voices echoed in her mind, voices of people she had known during her time of recursion in the Birdcage some worlds away…

"…visions are really disturbing, Professor. If this place the heretic was sent to can CONSUME all the gifts which we received from the Golden One and his kin, is it worth all the effort trying to locate her?"

Mama Mathers, echoed in Ciara's mind from the shades gathered around her current perch, the common-felt disgust from those once-lost souls concerning the leader of the Fallen and her mad support for the Endbringers causing her own heart to lurch.

"Given how many people want to find Hebert and ensure she is killed, it's only prudent, Christine," the familiar voice of Teacher answered the leader of the Fallen. "Would you like it if some outside force came along and swept away all your family and friends without being able to seek justice for them, not knowing how they'd be changed by their captor?"

"Of course not!" the woman born Christine Mathers snapped back, her voice much stronger than the last time Ciara had the displeasure of hearing the harpy's shrill tones in the days before the Birdcage.

"Then we must use Fortuna to locate Ms. Hebert quickly. How can we be sure that…?"

Fortuna…

Ah!

Ciara chuckled as she adjusted her search pattern, quickly homing in on the infamous "cape bogeyman" whose bond to the Eye allowed her to do so much in ensuring that faeries such as the Queen Administrator and Queen Shaper were ready for the day their father went insane. Sure enough, the poor lass was the current "guest" of Benjamin Terrell and his followers in their hidden base close to the western edge of the City, where the great metropolis of New York City would have stood had this been Earth Bet in lieu of Earth Gimel. Allowing her mind to gently probe into that of the long-wandering child who had foreseen the fall of Scion and had worked so hard to ensure the faeries would be prepared for that dark day, Ciara closed her eyes…

Where…?

Where…?

Wait…!

Ah!

There…

That…

Oh…!

Oh, my…!

"A Dark Gaol…" she hissed out in awe as her mind brushed against something seemingly as old as Time Itself.

As old…

Nay, OLDER!

…than the faeries' errant father, his mate or the others of their kind…

But why…?

Why was the Queen Administrator brought to THIS PLACE?!

For what purpose…?

Eh?!

Who…?

«You're in my yard, girl. State your business.»

Ciara jolted, she immediately withdrawing herself from that dark place.

Oh, what a fool she was…

Naturally, such a fearsome dark keep would have a warden…!

Outside Austin in Texas, Thursday 6 January 2011, 9:06 AM CST (Brockton Bay time: 10:06 AM EST)…

"Are you alright, Mark?"

The man who was the current incarnation of Yiziba's second-oldest battle line blinked before he stared at his wife. "Someone was trying to probe into the Dark Gaol," Mark Calaway quietly announced. "Parahuman. Really mixed up in the head, too."

Michelle Calaway blinked before she stared at him. "Following Taylor's trail?"

That made the phenom of WWE blink before he cursed under his breath…

Brockton Bay, Sharon Blake's apartment complex, that moment…

"And so that's what happened."

Hearing that statement from the woman seated before him, an annoyed Colin Wallis sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Even if he could have come marching to this place in his full armour as Armsmaster, he knew that the Avalonians — people who simply had no control over how they came to Brockton Bay in the first place, yet gladly did more than all to help those around them once they were cleared of oversight by their "masters" from Phentax Two — valued their privacy most of all. Although Taylor Hebert was Terran-born and from another dimension — never mind she currently possessing a local counterpart in a coma at Brockton Bay General Hospital — she was an Avalonian genetically; naturally, she deserved the same levels of deference that pure-born Avalonians like Taylor's "elder mother" and her peers received from the PRT and the Protectorate alike. "You strongly believe — given what happened to you in your home dimension around this period in your personal timeline — Coil is trying to gather Thinker assets through Ms. Wilbourn and Ms. Alcott as part of a campaign to become the 'overlord' of Brockton Bay's underworld. And while you can't recall his name now given what you've experienced because of the events that brought you here with the assistance of Lord Rjazán', the Undertaker and Doctor Death, you strongly believe he has links to the PRT."

A curt nod answered him before Taylor glanced over to the two Thinkers in question. Missy Byron — on recognizing Nancy O'Brien at the boutique she had gone to with her best friends on an unofficial day off from school — had teleported Dinah Alcott and Aisha Laborn right to the alley behind the apartment complex used by Nancy's particular "coven" of Avalonians; it had been a no-brainer to the powerful young space-warper that this was the place the mysterious Skitter had been brought to so she could recover from whatever the heck it was that saw her ejected from her home multiverse. Of course, after the four Empire 88 goons had been rendered into nothing more than disintegrating ashes by Regina Paek, both she and Lisa Wilbourn accompanied Taylor and Nancy back to the apartment before calling into the Protectorate to get both Colin and his second-in-command over here for an after-action report. Seeing that neither the master Tinker nor his Kurish-Iraqi-born weapon-manipulating Blaster companion had batted an eye over the fact that one of the town's resident Shōzoki had killed four people — such acts had happened before, they being cleared by a special federal Department of Justice tribunal once evidence was presented from the AI's own memory banks — Taylor had to admit that Sophia Hess' statement about "doing business right" in this dimension had validity.

"I really wish I could recall the man's real name, but he — rather, my version of him — was high up in the PRT hierarchy back home," Taylor confessed. Given it had been over a year or more since she last dealt with Coil, it didn't surprise her that she couldn't recall the man's name; then again, given how the slimy creep had behaved, his civilian identity really hadn't mattered in the grand scheme of things back on Earth Bet. "All I can say is that he's a different type of precog from Dinah." Reaching over to grasp the younger woman's hand and give it a firm squeeze of support, the insect mistress added, "One of my friends called the whole concept 'save scumming'. My version of him can see two separate paths into the future for awhile, decide which one was most advantageous, then use it to get what he wants. He was quite the rich man as I recall; he could afford a ton of mercenaries as well as pay off two teams of capes — my own team, the Undersiders, being one — to do whatever he felt would be necessary to press his own goals to the end. He even found ways to learn the identities of all the Empire 88 capes, releasing them into the public to try to start off a multi-way gang war." Here, she sighed. "Well, right after that came Leviathan…"

"One of these 'Endbringer' things that were woken up by your version of Eidolon to attack cities across the planet," Hannah Washington — known and respected in the Bay and beyond as Miss Militia — breathed out, shaking her head. At Taylor's surprised look, the native of Mûsil who had fled to America shortly after her trigger event added, "Doctor Renaissance sent a full briefing on the events on Earth Bet from what he had witnessed beforehand to us shortly after you made your appearance on PHO." Here, her dark eyes twinkled in amusement. "By the way, Fléchette sends her thanks for what you did to March."

"It was just the right thing to do," Taylor confessed, feeling her cheeks heat. Despite her many issues with the PRT and the Protectorate back home, she had always seen the weapons manipulator as one of her favourite parahumans; given how much she worked to present a human face for "capes" in the Bay, it was more than understandable. "Parian is neutral in the grand scheme of things. She just wants to live her life, run her business and entertain people. What in the name of God is wrong with that?"

Colin snorted. "Some people just want to see the world burn, Ms. Hebert."

"Sadly so," Hannah breathed out. "So, you wanted to be a heroine at the start…yet wound up allying with a gang of thieves. I don't understand how that could have happened, Taylor. What happened to you?"

A groan escaped Taylor. "I was bullied at school in part because my best friend was turned into a monster by my version of Shadow Stalker after she saved Emma Barnes' life from our version of the Gold Moon Society, the Azn Bad Boys. Because that version of Sophia was a Ward — which guaranteed a stipend to Winslow High School as a way of giving her support — the staff looked the other way; this was more vital to them than trying to corral a misbehaving cape." Here, she made a shuffling motion with her hand to indicate money. "Add onto the fact that Sophia, Emma and others had become the 'it' girls at school, no one wanted anything to do with me. Result was that I was as alone as one could be in this world." A wan smile answered the sympathetic look crossing the older woman's face on revealing that. "And, after I helped put down Lung — then was brushed off by Mr. Wallis' counterpart, who was far less personable than your friend has been today — I was invited by the Undersiders to join up. Being so starved for any sort of normal friendship, I gladly accepted even if I later thought up the excuse of trying to 'infiltrate' them for eventual capture by the Protectorate." Here, she dryly chuckled. "What a naïve idiot I was."

"My counterpart had a hand in that?" Colin demanded. "What was so wrong with you taking down Lung of all people?"

Taylor winced. "Well…"

Hannah blinked before she sighed. "Remember what you were like before finding out the truth about Tess?"

That made the master Tinker blink before he groaned. "Oh, dear God…!"

"He wanted to prove himself," Taylor quietly noted. "I later learned that it was part of this 'drive to combat' that Scion forced on all capes he gave shards to via trigger events. Taking down Lung — who is WAY WORSE than the version who lives here, I'll confess — would have been one great feather in his cap. And since I was the naïve new girl with a non-PR savvy power…"

"'Non-PR savvy'?" Lisa then spoke up. "I call 'bullshit' to that, Taylor! You can multitask like no one's business, your control over insects and other creepy-crawlies is just insane, you can bring down the Plagues of Egypt on anyone who pisses…HEY!"

As Osamu Shirayuki and Saeru Hinako came in with plates of snacks and cups of coffee and tea for people to enjoy, everyone watched as Taylor swamped the local version of her best friend in a tight hug. As Colin nodded his thanks while the Spirit of Innocence handed him a cup of welcome coffee — while he did make his own Tinker-influence brew of java (based on Navy coffee when it came to caffeine content) to help him work, he NEVER refused a cup made by one of Yiziba's most powerful trofikinetics bar none — the Great Chef of the West then hummed. "Does Hime have to make a wedding cake, Taylor-san?!"

Taylor awked, then quickly pulled back from Lisa before firing the Aichi-jin an embarrassed look. "Shirayuki!"

Laughter filled the room…

…before footfalls echoed from the kitchen, making Hinako look over. "A-ri-ri?! What's Sophia-san doing here?!"

"Curly!"

People turned as the woman known as Shadow Stalker quickly walked into the room, followed by Emma Barnes, Madison Clements and Salome Jenkins. "Girls! What are you doing here?! You should be in classes!" Hannah scolded.

"We got the message about Curly dealing with some E-88 gangbangers!" Sophia Hess reported. "Madison got the alert from Regina about the jerks trying to go after her girl, never mind what Short-Stuff had to do to keep her friends safe." She nodded to Missy, which made her nod in turn as she grasped Aisha's and Dinah's hands. "Yo, Aisha! You call your bro yet?"

That made the younger black girl blush. "Not really, Soph…!"

"We were playing hooky," Dinah explained. "For Missy's sake."

Sophia blinked before she sighed. While she knew Aisha's older brother Brian would hit the roof if he found out his sister was skiving from school, she could understand that reasoning. "Man, do your parents need to get spanked again, Short-Stuff?!"

That made Missy blush even if she leaned back in her chair. "I just want to get Gifted! Doing that makes me emancipated!"

"Have they hit you?"

Hearing that cold statement from Taylor made people look her way as a faint chattering noise echoed in the background. Quickly realizing what could be on the insect manipulator's mind right now, Missy waved her off. "No! No, no! They're not like what happened to Ms. Black when she was with her adopted parents before Ms. Katabarbe rescued her!"

"They just keep fighting it out over who'd be Missy's guardian once they finally push the divorce through, Tay-Tay," Emma declared as she crossed her arms. "Even if Dad's making oodles of cash from this whole mess, both of those idiots see Missy's Ward stipend as a nice piggy bank for them to dip into! That sort of thing really makes people go strange!"

Taylor scowled. "Don't you have the Youth Guard here?"

Colin shook his head, quickly realizing what she was speaking of. "It is recommended to have independent monitors keep watch over the Wards separate from whoever is assigned from the PRT, but that has never been sufficiently funded, Ms. Hebert…"

A sudden chill went over the room…

…before an ominous gong echoed. "Mark-san?!" Hinako called out as everyone looked to one corner of the room…

…just as a space-warp allowed the Master of the Dark Gaol to step inside, he in normal civilians. "Thoughtmaster-prime," Salome called out in greetings, bowing to the reality warper who just came in from Texas.

"Ms. Jenkins," Mark Calaway said as he mimed tipping a hat to her. "Everyone."

"Is everything alright, Mr. Calaway?" Hannah asked.

"Depends," the native of Houston declared before gazing on Taylor. "Someone back home's looking for you, kid."

That made the insect manipulator blink before she moaned…

A half-hour later…

"Let me see if I get this straight," a clearly incensed Margo Black quietly declared; the Archangel of Mortality had been called in about this matter by Michelle Calaway while her husband had teleported to the Bay from Austin to meet with Taylor Hebert. "This lady — who, points to her, DID help you get away from the crowd once the kimfombeke had killed itself and the whole Gold Morning thing was over, hoping you'd get control over your power even if it was going out of control — has the ability to kill people, yet KEEPS THEIR LIVING SPIRITS in place so she can use their powers to help press her fight scenes?!"

"Yes," the dimensionally-displaced insect manipulator affirmed. "She's said to be one of the near-S-class threats to wander around my Earth. I never got her real name and all that, but she was one of the block leaders in the Birdcage before Scion went crazy. NO ONE wanted to get on Glaistig Uaine's bad side just because of that alone." Here, Taylor closed her eyes for a moment before she glanced at Aisha Laborn. "Your brother's counterpart in my universe was one of her victims, Aisha."

That made the younger girl blanch; Missy Byron and her friends had remained in place while the Master of the Dark Gaol had explained what he sensed from his "yard" that prompted him to see Taylor right away. "Aptly named," Colin Wallis noted as he scanned a holographic screen projecting from a multi-function wristwatch which he constructed for himself for use when he was in civilian clothes. "A being which unleashes maladies of multiple types to those mortals who upset them…"

"Thanks for the analysis!" Margo snapped, her fists clenching. As people winced, the reborn master assassin held up a warning finger. "This bitch shows up in this dimension, her ass is MINE! Anyone who pulls crap like THAT has no right to LIVE!"

"Margo-san!" Saeru Hinako scolded, even if she was gentle about it; as the Living Spirit of Innocence, the Niigata-jin knew exactly where the Vermonter was coming from when she made that statement.

"Yeah, this lady would press a lot of hot buttons with folks like you, wouldn't she?" Lisa Wilbourn mused as she gave Margo a wry smile while holding Regina Paek's hand. "Not only preventing the spirits of the deceased from ascending to the next life but making those 'ghosts' fight her battles for her?! That's top-level COWARDICE to people like you, right?!"

"Damned straight about that, kid," Mark Calaway snorted before sipping the coffee that Osamu Shirayuki had made for him.

"If this woman — or anyone else from this Earth-Bet or any of the other Earths in that multiversal cluster — does come through to the Bay, you'll alert us, right?" Hannah Washington then wondered as she gazed on the Texan.

A grim nod answered her. "You're in the fight scene…what the…?"

People tensed as the phenom of WWE glanced around, his grey eyes glowing as something seemed to tickle his own clairvoyant field. "What is it?" Taylor demanded as a faint chattering of insects echoed from outside.

"Someone's here," the Master of the Dark Gaol ominously declared…

In a nondescript apartment not far from the Boardwalk…

A smiling middle-aged man dressed in a black two-piece suit with a royal red turtleneck sweater, his eyes covered by sunglasses, chuckled as his own clairvoyance picked up the attempt by the Undertaker to sense him out. Gazing around the well-lived-in space used jointly by Regina Paek and the woman born Sarah Livsey, Leno Lu'umlo nodded in approval before he placed a glowing crystal about the size of a man's wallet on the nightstand beside the bed. Once a letter in an envelope was placed beside it, the Mad Prophet of the Future then teleported clear off the planet back for his home on Yiziba…

The Boardwalk, 11:42 AM…

"Were we lovers?"

Taylor Hebert's cheeks suddenly went red at that surprisingly hesitant question from the beautiful blonde seated across from her, then she flustered before sitting back in her chair as she considered that question. "It could have happened," she then quietly confessed. She was seated with Lisa Wilbourn and Regina Paek at one of the several bistros overlooking the Essex River estuary, with the "Rig" — the converted oil drilling platform which served as the main operations base of the Protectorate and the PRT in Brockton Bay — off to the northeast. "After my Emma's betrayal and being isolated from everyone else at school because of her and the others, I was so desperate for any sort of positive human companionship that when my version of you approached me to join the Undersiders, I gladly accepted. Sure, I wanted to be a hero and all that — hence, the whole thing about 'infiltrating' the gang — but for the first time in nearly two years, well…" Here, a wistful smile crossed her face. "I had friends again."

"And it was me, Aisha's brother, Rachel Lindt and Alec Reynaud, right?" Lisa wondered as Regina sipped her tea.

"Exactly."

That made the parahuman clairvoyant hum. "Thinker, Shaker with darkness powers, Master/Striker with canine manipulation, and Master with nerve manipulation," she quietly counted off on her fingers; fortunately, they were seated a distance away from others, so people wouldn't overhear them. "That's not much of a gang. And you rescued them from Lung?"

"You were cannon fodder to Coil, so if you died, he could find others to take your place," Taylor breathed out. "I guess when it really sank into me how much your counterparts there were being screwed over by that slimy snake, I saw exposing you as the perfect way to get you all to safety. Of course, the whole thing with Dinah Alcott got in the way of things…"

"She's definitely triggered," the transgender gynoid noted as she warmly grasped her lover's hand. Seeing that made Taylor smile. Even if there was an awakening part of her who was fascinated at the idea of being intimate with Lisa — never mind someone as exotic as Regina — she was happy that this version of her dear friend had found such companionship. "No doubt, Missy and Aisha are doing their best to be supportive to Dinah as she allows her powers' programming to settle in her mind."

Taylor blinked. "Yeah, people like you would understand that sort of thing, wouldn't you?" she wryly mused before sipping her own tea. Naturally, Lisa had coffee. Just before everyone parted for the day at the apartments, Colin Wallis offered to prepare a regular batch of his own special Tinker brew — modified for her, of course, with Osamu Shirayuki's help to make sure it wouldn't cause any adverse effects to Lisa — to allow the clairvoyant to better moderate her own abilities. That creating such a contact could also be used to try to track down Coil was just a bonus part of that offer; given that Taylor had taken interest in this version of her dear friend, the transplanted Californian had ALSO earned the attention of people like Margo Black.

Having the Archangel of Mortality herself on your side…!

"So, how'd you get here from New Jersey of all places, Regina? Why'd you come here?" the dimensionally-displaced insect mistress then asked as she gave the effeminate boy in girl's fashionable clothing a curious look. While Regina Paek was about the same height as Taylor Hebert, the former was a lot more pronounced in the bust and hips; such would make people instantly think "girl" unless they directly focused on the more pronounced Adam's apple under her chin, which was often disguised by an ascot or other such tie to break up the image. "Is it because no Mother-controlled Shōzoki can operate here?"

"Exactly," the raven-haired transgender gynoid affirmed with a nod. "My parents and I were activated the very same way that Madison and her parents were — save for the soul-shifting, of course — then a gatherer got to Appa and Ŏmma right away." As Lisa reached over with both hands to grasp her lover's in a show of support, a wan smile crossed Regina's face. "An android who worked as part of the civilian support staff at the Picatinny Arsenal — we lived in Dover just off I-80 — saw what happened, stunned the gatherer unconscious and helped me get Appa and Ŏmma under control. Once JSWC…" — here, she pronounced the abbreviation of the United States Joint Specialized Warfare Command, the federal defence agency in charge of metahuman operations across the Union, as "jay-swick" — "…got involved, Appa and Ŏmma were sent to Joint Base San Antonio to have the links to Mother severed. Since I'm legally 'too young' to be welcomed as a civilian worker for JSWC or any other part of the DoD, I was advised to move to a 'safe' part of the country until I decided what to do with myself. Hence, I came here."

"And I'm MORE than grateful for that," Lisa mused before explaining…

Brockton Bay, the Midway near the northern ferry terminal, Friday 12 November 2010, 11:12 PM EST…

[Evasion is required. Approaching mercenaries are determined to capture you.]

No fucking SHIT, power!

Sarah Livsey just HATED it whenever her Thinker abilities acted like a smart-arse.

Ducking behind a dumpster set alongside one of the warehouses located not far from the old Lord's Port section of the Bay, the escapee from a very toxic home environment in California drew out a Glock 17 pistol; even if she had to forge a few things to get the concealed carrying permit for the weapon, it had been worth it, especially given she had yet to choose a permanent residence in this city of capes. While getting into a shootout with a quartet of highly-skilled ex-military personnel armed with Tinker-tech weapons — Who supplied them?! What the hell was this about?! How could ME of all people in a city of nearly a half-million draw the attention of whoever's paying these people?! — certainly wasn't in Sarah's "to do" list tonight, it wouldn't be so bad; this part of town was Archer's Bridge Merchant territory and shootouts with rival gangs were a commonplace.

[Weapons indicate Toybox origin. Unknown reason for pursuit. Mercenaries aware of Thinker abilities.]

Not NOW, power!

"Don't move!"

Sarah croaked as the muzzle of a sub-machine gun based on the Heckler & Koch MP5 series tapped her left temple near her ear, then she turned to see a grim man's face — most of that masked by night vision goggles and a balaclava — not a half-yard from her. Hissing as she felt the oncoming thudding in her mind heralding an inconvenient Thinker headache, the Santa Clara native clicked the safety of her pistol before placing it on the ground, that making her captor raise his free hand to flash a series of gestures. Recognizing that as hand signals to get his friends to join them — she didn't need to listen to her power to realize that — she moaned. "So, what this about?" she wryly asked. "If you guys wanted a date with me, all you had to do was ask."

The obvious leader of the group — he had what appeared to be a heavily modified M202 grenade launcher attached to his machine gun — came to a hover before her, holding out a cell phone. "The Boss wants to talk to you, Miss Livsey."

Sighing as part of her mind tried to churn over how she could get out of this mess, she took up the device and put it to her ear. "If this is your way of recruiting people to join your gang, whoever you are, you really need to work on your sales pitch."

"Considering that your parents have already alerted the California PRT about various crimes committed with a parahuman power, Miss Livsey, I'm right now your only hope of avoiding a long stay at San Quentin State Prison."

[Male, mid-forties, parahuman events combat veteran — Ellisburg, maybe? — with high connections in the local PRT. People compromised to serve under him?] Sarah's power announced in her mind. [Fancies himself a James Bond-like villain, has multiple contingency plans to deal with detection, wants to control all underground activities in Brockton Bay.] Oh, shit! This poser fancies himself to be THAT?! "Well, Number One, you seem to have me. What do you want?" she quipped.

An amused laugh answered her as the mercenaries shook their heads. Damn, he IS a fan of those movies, Sarah tried not to moan. "Your services and your complete loyalty, Miss Livsey," came the amused response. "As for my aims, they're not as great as I'm sure your Thinker abilities are now indicating to you, but you have a good idea what might happen if you refuse."

That made her slump. She HATED no-win situations.

"Excuse me, but the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution clearly states NO illegal forced involuntary servitude."

Sarah gasped as she looked up just as the mercenaries tensed…

…before a slender hand snared one by the mouth, then sharply twisted the head hard left, snapping the spine. The poor fool let out a pained croak as all feeling below his neck faded to nothingness while the opposite hand to the one used to effectively kill him snared his sub-machine gun, sending a quick fusillade into the leader's hip where his body armour did NOT protect him. He shrieked as his aorta and inferior vena cava were vented by the well-aimed bullets to guarantee he'd bleed out from the inside while a foot covered in stylish ladies' walking boots kicked the Glock into Sarah's reach. The Thinker, surprised but grateful for this rescue, grabbed her weapon, clicked off the safety, then rolled to send two shots into a third mercenary's throat, wrecking that and the lower part of his face. The fourth mercenary, the one farthest from Sarah's rescuer, tried to hip-fire his weapon only to get his dead friend's weapon levelled at his face to turn his mouth into a messy sea of gore. As he went down with a gurgle, the person who came to the Thinker's rescue swept her acquired weapon one-handed on the screaming leader.

A quick three-round burst saw him permanently silenced, his whole head nearly exploding from well-aimed shots.

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

Then…

Sarah had by then rolled into a kneeling position, back to the dumpster to ensure she had solid steel protecting her blind spot. As a croaked final breath of air escaped the first mercenary to be killed, she turned to gaze on the newcomer.

[Not a parahuman. Physically resembles an androgynous Korean teenager, 16-18 years old. Dresses to publicly stress gender fluidity issues, expert crossdresser. Quite physically attractive, combat serves as extra sexual stimulus. Barely breathing, almost programmed to simulate same. Body language indicates mechanically-enhanced, computer-speed reflexes.]

Oh, fucking SHIT! I'm dealing with a fucking Terminator!

The raven-haired crossdresser with the grey eyes under reading glasses — [Has no need to wear same, possesses mechanically-enhanced vision, wears same as mark of respect to someone close to him.] her power provided — blinked before she placed the sub-machine gun she used to kill the mercenaries on the leader's chest before reaching into her designer black leather jacket to pull out what looked like a Glock…though this weapon had a strange metallic green sheen to the hull and had a moulded sensor-sight system fitted under the barrel ahead of the trigger assembly. [Weapon is not Terran in origin or manufacture.]

Oh, crap! A close encounter of the third kind along with a killer robot?! This is NOT my night!

The rescuer reached down to pick up the dropped cell-phone, uncaring that Sarah had got her pistol back. Placing it to her ear, she announced in a cold, metered voice possessing a northeastern New Jersey accent, "She's not interested, Mister Coil."

"Wait! Who are you?!" the Thinker barely heard echo from the phone speakers.

Sarah's rescuer keyed what appeared to be her weapon's safety, causing a line of LEDs on the weapon's barrel to light up red before turning a tan shade...while a sound like an activating proton pack straight out of Ghostbusters echoed over the scene. That made whoever had sent the mercenaries after the Thinker shriek. "You're Shōzoki! Stupid robot! You'll be reported…!"

[Coil. Minor villain, hasn't made much noise in Brockton Bay.] Sarah's power reported. [Doesn't wish to make noise to appear not threatening in eyes of rivals in Empire Eighty-Eight and the Gold Moon Society. Knows about Shōzoki; name is demonym for rescuer's race even if she is Terran in looks. Recognizes the weapon she's using…to eliminate evidence.]

The crossdressing teen-looking AI tossed the phone onto the dead mercenary leader's stomach before levelling her pistol on target. A shrieking noise resembling the sound blasters in Star Wars make on discharging assaulted Sarah's ears while a bolt of energy ripped down to cloak the fallen leader's body in dark reddish energy before said corpse evaporated into nothingness! As the Thinker's jaw dropped to the ground in disbelief at something that seemed to leap right out of classic Star Trek, she turned and fired three more shots to erase the other mercenaries' bodies from existence itself before calmly engaging her weapon's safety — such echoed by the opposite effect of its activation surge — then slipped same into the holster on the inside flap of her jacket.

Watching her, Sarah's power went into overdrive. [Human emulation programming advanced, beyond anything introduced in science fiction. Rumours about advanced androids made by conspiracy theorists watching the Specialized Warfare Regiment of Canada and other metahuman defence forces worldwide proven. Affiliated with the Joint Specialized Warfare Command, not afraid of Coil. Coil cannot report mercenaries' deaths to Brockton Bay Police or Massachusetts PRT without arousing suspicion; rescuer knows same. Doesn't care to kill; sees herself as lover, not fighter. Looking for mistress.]

Huh?

Wait?!

What?!

What was that, power…?!

[Rescuer looking for mistress. Built as sexual companion. Templated off real person, template killed when replica created, replica feels guilt over that even if not responsible. Afraid of who was responsible, has no power to deal with same, wishes to avoid agents sent by said being to ensure complete sanctity of her own mind. Sees Sarah Livsey as potential mistress.]

Hah…whaa…?

What the fuck IS this?!

Some weird ASFR fantasy turned real?!

"Hey! You okay, Sarah?"

The Thinker gasped before she found herself staring into a pair of VERY deep grey eyes.

[Rescuer thinks Sarah Livsey most beautiful person she has met since activation. Desires Sarah Livsey as mistress, would sacrifice existence for mistress' safety. Programmed in multiple sexual techniques, thinks Kāma-sūtra greatest written work on Earth, will make Sarah Livsey's first sexual experience something she will never forget. Wants to have her as friend, too.]

"Ah…!" Sarah tried to begin.

The newcomer blinked before she chuckled. "And I thought MY housekeeping computer could be nagging at times," she quipped before offering her hand. "Regina Paek…or Paek Hanbyŏl if you want my native Korean name. Here, let's get to my apartment in town. It's proofed against anything Coil could use to try to track you down and I can help you better understand who I am."

The woman soon to be called Lisa Wilbourn absently nodded as she took her hand, surprised by the gentleness of her grip as she helped her stand before they calmly walked towards the nearest bus stop together…

The Boardwalk…

Regina Paek chuckled as Taylor Hebert gave her a warm hug while Lisa Wilbourn smiled…

Near the Lord's Port Market, 12:10 PM…

"Poor Taylor! What an awful thing to happen to her!" Missy Byron quietly lamented.

Staring at the most powerful known Shaker in America, both Dinah Alcott and Aisha Laborn grimly nodded. "Yeah! At least she's got her powers back at the level she had when she started out," the latter noted before sipping her shake. All three had gone to a local mom-and-pop restaurant to get something to eat, then relax and unwind from the revelations they received after they got rescued by the Bay's newest heroine. "What'd you think of her using that cloak to nail those skinheads?"

The mayor's niece hummed as numbers rolled through her mind. "Ninety-six-point-nine percent chance she'll adopt it with her normal field uniform," she quietly predicted, making Missy and Aisha look her way. They had seen the images of that wickedly cool armoured suit that Taylor Hebert had made for herself when she first went out on the streets as Skitter in what seemed to be a lifetime ago to the insect manipulator. "Seventy-three-point-two percent chance she'll realize where it came from."

"Kingdom Hearts," the younger sister of a man who himself had Triggered sometime ago to make use of darkness-manipulation powers — and who was working hard to find a way to become his sister's legal guardian due to the fact that their divorced mother was a chronic drug addict — affirmed before nibbling on some yakitori; much that the black girl didn't care for monsters like those who served the Gold Moon Society, she had fallen in love with a lot of the popular Oriental food staples.

"How soon will she hit the streets for real?" Missy wondered.

Dinah hummed as she rocked her head to and fro, more numbers running through her head as she considered that point. "Call it in two days. Three tops," she predicted before sipping her cola. "Depends how fast those spiders of her finish composing the silk for her uniform, then the mesonium provided by Ms. Blake and her friends is infused in for extra protection."

The girl also known as Vista nodded. "Should be pretty good for when we go out on patrol," Missy noted. As Taylor herself had learned earlier, the Brockton Bay Wards were seldom seen out on the streets in an official manner; unlike the situation on Earth-Bet in more innocent days, this universe's version of Emily Piggot and Colin Wallis both loathed the idea of "showing the flag" street patrols in the "safer" parts of town. That didn't mean that the Wards didn't go out on the streets at all, though. Usually partnered with an adult member of the Protectorate as mentor and guide, the junior heroes and heroines did get a lot of street experience in places where their counterparts a multiverse away seldom went, save for Sophia Hess when she did her many "unauthorized" patrols that normally saw gangsters slammed up against a wall with a broad-head crossbow bolt punched through a shoulder. And while the local version of Shadow Stalker often did those same sorts of things, she did have support from one odd quarter of the local population: None other than the dockworkers under Danny Hebert of all people! Despite their constantly living from paycheck to paycheck, the collective skills of the people who helped keep the Port of Brockton Bay alive even in the face of the Boat Graveyard were enough to deter even the local parahuman population from raiding the area. As Missy knew thanks to Sophia herself — not to mention friends like Emma Barnes and Madison Clements — dockworker "vigilance workers" acted as forward spotters for the teen shadow-shifter whenever she was out on an unsanctioned patrol in that part of the city, which helped her hit targets without wasting energy, then fade into the night without the other side causing hell in turn.

Even with the sometimes-pronounced paucity of funding from the General Court on Beacon Hill in Boston, the heroes of Brockton Bay did make an impact on the local crime scene…

"There you are!"

All three girls yelped…

…then both Missy and Aisha squealed as silencer-equipped weapons discharged, sending darts flying into their necks, the anaesthetic contained in said darts being pumped into their bodies right away to knock them out. As Dinah screamed in fright, two masked men with enhanced Heckler & Koch MP5 sub-machine guns charged up, one of them drawing out a syringe to put into the girl's arm to render her unconscious. While nearby patrons yelled out as more masked men with guns charged into the restaurant to cover the staff and to block anyone with a phone who might call for help, one man in the corner of the room scowled before rising from his table, turning around as his well-patterned suit transformed into a robe-like battle uniform…

The Boardwalk…

"DINAH!"

Lisa Wilbourn and Regina Paek both yelped on hearing Taylor Hebert's frightened scream before they gazed on her…

…then gaped as their new friend turned to run towards the nearby Lord's Port Market. "Oh, shit!" Lisa snapped as she waved her lover with her, both immediately realizing what the insect manipulator had just sensed…

The restaurant in the Lord's Port Market…

"Hey, old man, sit down…HEY!"

The infantry section's worth of mercenaries jolted on hearing one of their number scream out, then they turned…

…before they gaped as the nicely-dressed fellow seated off in one corner of the room snared their mate's sub-machine gun with ease as his clothes transformed into a flowing battlesuit of a VERY familiar design. "OH, SHIT! BACK OFF, XENO…!" their leader barked out as he levelled his own weapon at the fast-moving monster who was butting in on their mission for the Boss.

Before he could fire, the Mad Prophet of the Future — with a level of practice that would utterly astonish even the most well-trained and experienced special forces operator from Delta Force or SEAL Team Six — levelled his immediate opponent's weapon on the leader, hip-firing it to send bullets into the unprotected parts of his target's body. With controlled three-round bursts of 9-millimetre fire — the man born Leno Lu'umlo had gained experience in previous trips to Earth when it came to multiple types of firearms given that certain local defence agencies used mesonium warheads for the special penetrating power such as magical defence fields and the like — he hit a couple more of the attacking group closest to the three fallen teenage girls in one corner. By then, others were moving to spray the interfering alien metahuman — the insult "xeno" had become popular over PHO in recent times due to the odd report of actual native Yizibajohei coming to visit the third world of Sol for whatever reason struck their fancy — with their weapons; fortunately for the few bystanders in the establishment, long-ingrained survival instincts in a city like this made them dive for the deck to get clear of flying bullets before someone got hurt or killed.

By then, someone else was cutting in…

«Private or public, Reverend?»

"SKITTER!" one mercenary screamed out…

…as a massive cloud of insects surged through the open doors of the restaurant to swarm right at the still-standing mercenaries, all of whom raised their MP5s up in hopes of blasting away the thick cloud of chattering arthropods swarming them. Smirking on seeing such a useless reaction, the reborn socialist preacher from Krolatotuto effortlessly snapped the neck of the fighter he personally disarmed, then moved to send three-round bursts into the faces and other exposed areas of his comrades.

"You're more than welcome to join me, Madame Skitter," he calmly declared in a slightly-accented voice.

«With pleasure! Be there in a minute!»

As a groaning Missy Byron — who, as part of Wards advanced training a year after her own trigger event (such carried out at the coolest place for all capes to visit, the headquarters complex of the Specialized Warfare Regiment of Canada), had learned how to use her space-warping powers on parts of her own body to clear out unwanted toxins — tried to force whatever junk that just got pumped into her body out of it so she could get into the fight, both Leno and the restaurant owner (who had an Ithaca 37 shotgun in 12-gauge format) quickly moved to drop the rest of the mercenaries before they could take hostages and make things worse. As that happened, swarms of hornets and wasps dived onto the exposed skins of the attackers moving to kidnap Dinah and her friends, injecting in large amounts of poison into their bodies to ensure they STAYED down even if they had been hit with machine gun bullets and shotgun pellets. "Someone, call the PRT!" the restaurant owner barked out.

Running footfalls echoed from outside, such echoed by shocked cries of delight as a hooded figure appeared at the doorway, obviously wearing civilian clothes under a flowing black hooded cloak; as the incident earlier in the day at a certain ladies' boutique on the Boardwalk hadn't been reported on Parahumans Online, this would be Skitter's true "public" debut. As a massive swarm of insects moved to protectively shroud the cloaked Taylor Hebert, she moved to look over the downed middle school students nearby. «I 'saw' what happened here,» she called out through her swarm to the Mad Prophet of the Future. «Thanks for your help, sir. Welcome to Earth. What brings you about our little hive of scum and villainy?»

The Krolatotuto-mem laughed heartily as some of the patrons moved to get to their feet, drawing out cell phones to snap pictures of the downed mercenaries and the battle scene; by then, the last of them had been stung unconscious by Taylor's swarm of wasps and hornets. "I heard so much about this fair habitation of yours, Madame Skitter, I simply HAD to come see it for myself," he said as one of the restaurant workers took the MP5 from him, expertly drawing out the magazine and clearing the firing bed before laying it aside. "Much that I can understand why some of the heel team leaders here desire new recruits, to force them into such a life THIS way is something that begs a good fight scene or a bloody revenge scene in response."

"No pictures of the girls!" the restaurant owner snapped.

"Damn straight about that!" one of the patrons who were seated near where Missy, Dinah and Aisha were growled. "Someone should call Panacea and get her over here to look them over!"

"Wait a sec!" another patron called out after doing a quick scan through PHO, using a special search engine there that could match Yizibajohei battle suit designs to specific metahumans. "You're Reverend Leno Lu'umlo, right?! Millennium?!"

"The same, my dear lady," Leno affirmed. "I was told by Doctor Renaissance that there are many potential recruits here in Brockton Bay who deserve the chance to be much better than they are now, so I came looking for them."

"Then you've got healers back home, right?" the patron then asked, making Taylor glance over before her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the local counterpart to one of her father's co-workers, Lacey Wilkins.

"We do indeed, madame! And I think it's best to go see them as I'm sure Madame Panacea is busy with her schooling. Madame Skitter, if you wouldn't mind helping the young ladies up, we'll be on our way to visit a friend of mine."

Hearing that made many patrons and staff grin. "You mean Miss Katabarbe, right?" the owner asked as he put away his shotgun.

"Who else?" Leno noted as he came over to gently lift the dazed Missy into his arms, one hand holding his PAA.

As Taylor boosted both Dinah and Aisha up to cradle them in her own arms — the insect mistress knew thanks to her research that personal administrative assistant devices used by Yizibajohei could teleport multiple people in a pinch — the latter's head brushed against her cloak's hood, pulling it enough away to expose enough of Taylor's face to make Lacey (the only person who could see directly into that hood) gasp in disbelief and shock on recognizing her. "Oh, my God…Little Owl…?"

Taylor's eyes went wide on hearing the older woman call out her nickname…

…before she felt something grasp her from all around, shifting her many light-years away in the blink of an eye.

Silence fell over the scene as the restaurant owner gave Lacey — who was one of his most frequent customers — a knowing look; his establishment was often frequented by dockyard workers whenever they got a generous payout due to government work shipped in from all over to help supplement their more meagre remuneration from the Port of Brockton Bay. "Have to make a call," she said as she held up her phone. "Tell me when the PRT gets here so I can give my statement, Joe."

"Washroom's over there, Lacey," the owner pointed towards a door nearby.

With that, the burly dockworker headed off, her mind rolling as she wondered how Danny and Annette Hebert would take THIS!

Outside the village of Kabe-koli in Nesetimtuto on Yiziba, that moment (local time: Lunchtime on Ramlo'odu-pali, R'beke-lelu, Merimdulo'or'beke-teri)…

"«Alright! Alright, already! I'm coming! I'm coming! Hold your fan boys!»"

Hearing that voice speak out in English in her own ears — Taylor Hebert had received a subcutaneous omniversal translator inserted between the lobes of her brain once her soul was shifted into her new body, thus allowing her to understand the quasi-Japanese-sounding native language spoken on the third world Kaeyu as if her own mother had said those words — the insect mistress sighed as she moved to sit the moaning Aisha Laborn and Dinah Alcott on a handy porch bench laying close to the main door leading to a very cozy-looking log cabin home. A glance around revealed said home was on the slopes of a relatively tall mountain, such reaching to a barely glacier-covered tip some distance from her current position. As her mind quickly adjusted to the VERY different insect life present on this planet with the bright, giant blue-white star in what she believed was the "southern" sky — said star loomed much larger than the Sun did when seen from Earth, though the temperature in this part of Yiziba was chilly but tolerable, like Brockton Bay could be in winter when nor'easters didn't whip through the area — she took in what had to be some of the freshest air she had ever breathed, such having a mineral-like tincture which she'd never encountered before.

"Breathe deeply, my dear," the man now holding the moaning Missy Byron in his arms bade. "It will do you — much less the entity now bound to your mind — much good in the long term…"

The main door of the cabin then opened, revealing a woman appearing to be Taylor's age, she in a simple button shirt tucked into worn blue jeans, a pair of Converse sneakers on her feet. "Leno?!" she called out, her voice a strange mixture of accents, a hint of her native Japanese quite apparent to Taylor, having heard such a sound from members and affiliates of the Azn Bad Boys back in her Brockton Bay. "«What the hell are you doing with the girl there…?!»" she began before looking over at Taylor.

Sensing something VERY powerful lurking in the very heart of this woman before her, the dimensionally-displaced teenager then wanly smiled. "Tariko Katabarbe, I presume," she greeted, her hand out. "Sorry to impose on you, but these three girls were about to be kidnapped by a would-be Bond-like villain in Brockton Bay. I'm hoping you got someone like Panacea in that city over yonder…" — here, she pointed to the vast habitation at the foot of this mountain to the south — "…so they can get some knockout juice which got pumped into them thanks to Coil's mercenaries pumped out. Two have triggered…"

A chuckle answered her. "Relax, Taylor," Tariko Katabarbe bade in accent-less English as she grasped Taylor's hand while giving Leno Lu'umlo a look. "I'm being cut into the fight scene, right?" At the reborn preacher's nod, she waved everyone in. "Bring them in here and I'll call my great-granduncle over to get the shit out of them, then we'll do the casting scene."

[APPRECIATED, WOULD-BE WARRIOR "TUYUKI".]

That made Taylor jolt as both Missy and Dinah groaned; there had been three distinct voices that just spoke out telepathically towards the would-be Trickster of the Show, Tuyuki ("Coyote"), just now. "Damn!" the woman born a boy named Moroboshi Ataru then clicked her tongue playfully. "Didn't know that kimfombeke shards could be so damned talkative!"

"Unlike their creators, they're being wise," Leno then noted.

A snort answered him. "Smart thinking…"

To Be Continued…

WRITER'S NOTES

Translation list and source language: Mûsil — Kurdish way of saying Mosul (second-largest city in Iraq); Appa — Dad; Ŏmma — Mom (both Korean); MP — Short for Maschinenpistole ("machine pistol"), standard designation used by Heckler & Koch for sub-machine guns (German); Kāma-sūtra — Proper Romanization of the Sanskrit term meaning "principles of love", applied to a text on sexuality, eroticism and emotional fulfillment written by Vātsyāyana around the Second/Third Centuries BCE.

The General Court is the name of the Massachusetts state legislature, located in the Boston neighbourhood of Beacon Hill not far from downtown in the city's old town on the Shawmut Peninsula near the shores of the Charles River.