Chapter 2
The walk home stretched into the early morning hours, with the city of Brockton Bay gradually transforming from the chaotic nightlife of the casinos and streets into a quieter, more subdued urban landscape. The adrenaline that had carried her through the night was finally wearing off, leaving behind a heavy exhaustion. The cold air cut through the fabric of her costume as she trudged along the deserted streets, the distant sounds of the city serving as a constant reminder of the dangers lurking around every corner.
As she neared her neighborhood, she began to relax, just slightly. The familiar sight of the crumbling buildings and graffiti-tagged walls was comforting in a strange way. It was far from safe, but it was home. Still, she remained vigilant, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger as she approached her house. Even with her newly acquired powers, she knew better than to let her guard down completely.
When she finally reached the front door, she took a moment to listen for any sounds from inside. Her dad was usually asleep by now, but the last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this—dressed in black, looking like some kind of wannabe supervillain. Satisfied that the house was quiet, she carefully unlocked the door and slipped inside.
The familiar smell of old wood and stale air greeted her as she stepped into the living room. She quietly closed the door behind her, locking it before making her way upstairs. She was careful to avoid the creaky spots on the stairs, moving silently through the house like a ghost. As she reached the top of the stairs, she glanced down the hallway, making sure Dad's door was closed before heading to her room.
Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it, finally allowing herself to breathe. Her heart was still racing from everything that had happened. She reached up and peeled off her mask, the cool air hitting her sweat-soaked face. She let out a deep breath, the events of the night flooding back into her mind in vivid detail.
She had to sit down. The weight of it all was overwhelming—everything she'd just gone through. Slowly, she walked over to her bed and sat on the edge, her hands trembling slightly as she rubbed her face. The fabric of Cypher's mask felt strange against her skin, like it didn't quite belong there. Maybe it didn't.
But as she sat there in the silence of her room, she knew that tonight had changed things. She wasn't just the girl who got bullied at school anymore, the invisible one who spent her days avoiding the gaze of others. Tonight, she had taken on Lung's men and lived to tell the tale. More than that, she had gotten caught up in the Undersiders' heist and somehow earned their respect.
What did that mean for her?
She shook her head, trying to clear the haze of conflicting thoughts. She was doing this for a reason—to weaken the gangs that had taken over Brockton Bay, to bring some sense of justice to a city that had long since forgotten what that word meant. She wasn't like them. She wasn't a villain.
But she couldn't deny that part of her had enjoyed the thrill of the night. The power, the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of being in control.
She needed to get out of the costume, to shed the identity that came with it, if only for a little while.
The suit disappeared somewhere.
The same place where everything her power could make her power came from.
Once she was down to her regular clothes, she felt a little more like herself—just Taylor again.
After a quick shower to wash away the grime of the night, she collapsed onto her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. The exhaustion hit her all at once, her body sinking into the mattress as sleep tugged at her eyelids. But even as she drifted off, her mind kept racing, replaying the events of the night over and over.
The last thing she thought of before sleep claimed her was the offer Grue had made, the chance to join the Undersiders.
It was tempting, in a way.
But they were villains, with or without heart. She would never make the mistake of allying herself even temporarily with villains just because it suited her. Someone in this city had to do something beyond the convenient things. That's why it had ended up like this in the first place. The convenient thing, looking the other way, squashing the noise.
She was a good person and would continue to be one. Taylor closed her eyes. She had no intention of changing. The only thing that would change was this city, for the better.
Not long after, of course, she had to get up. And pretend she'd slept a wink.
Taylor went through her morning routine in a daze, brushing her teeth and changing without really thinking about it. Her mind was elsewhere, still stuck on what had happened at the casino. It felt surreal, like a half-remembered dream, but the bruises on her arms and the soreness in her muscles told her it had been all too real.
When she finally made it downstairs, her dad was in the kitchen, reading the newspaper over a cup of coffee. He looked up as she entered, giving her a tired smile. "Morning, kiddo."
"Morning," she mumbled, heading for the fridge. She wasn't really hungry, but she knew she needed to eat something.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked, his tone casual, but she could see the concern in his eyes.
"Okay," she lied, pulling out a carton of orange juice. She poured herself a glass and took a sip, the cold liquid helping to wake her up a little more. "Just… you know. School stuff."
He nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. "Anything you want to talk about?"
She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. "No, I'm good."
They lapsed into silence, the only sounds in the kitchen the ticking of the clock and the rustling of the newspaper. She knew her dad was worried about her—he had been ever since her mom died—but she couldn't tell him the truth. She couldn't tell him about the powers or the costume or the fact that she'd nearly gotten herself killed last night. He wouldn't understand, and even if he did, it would only make him worry more.
After a few minutes, her dad stood up, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. "I've got an early shift today. You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," she said, forcing a smile. "I'll be fine."
He gave her a long look, like he wanted to say something else, but then he just nodded and headed for the door. "Alright. Have a good day at school, Taylor."
"You too, Dad."
As soon as he was gone, she let out a sigh of relief, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. She finished her juice and rinsed the glass out in the sink, trying to shake off the lingering sense of unease.
But of course, she had no intention of going to school.
Another lie to add to the pile.
—
Taylor sat at her desk, various tools and components spread out before her. The soft glow of her desk lamp illuminated the half-assembled tranquilizer gun she was working on. She carefully fitted another piece into place, her brow furrowed in concentration.
The stun gun had been effective, but it required getting too close for comfort. She needed something with more range, something that would allow her to take down opponents from a safe distance. The tranquilizer gun was the logical next step.
As she worked, her mind wandered to the events of the past few days. The casino heist, the encounter with the Undersiders, the narrow escapes—it all felt like a blur. But one thing stood out clearly: the power of information.
Cypher's abilities had given her access to knowledge she never thought possible. She could piece together puzzles that others couldn't even see, uncover secrets that had been buried for years. It was intoxicating, in a way. The more she knew, the more control she felt she had over her life and her surroundings.
Her thoughts drifted to Emma, and she felt a familiar pang of anger and hurt. Thanks to Cypher's skills, she now knew why Emma had betrayed her. The pieces had fallen into place, revealing a picture of fear, insecurity, and a desperate need to feel strong.
Taylor paused in her work, setting down the screwdriver she'd been using. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. The knowledge of Emma's motivations didn't make the betrayal hurt any less, but it did change things.
If she had known earlier, if she had understood what was happening, maybe she could have put a stop to it. Maybe she could have reached out to Emma, helped her through whatever she was going through. Things could have been different.
But that was in the past now. Nothing would ever be the same between them. The friendship they once had was dead, replaced by a cold, hard anger that Taylor couldn't shake. Emma had made her choice, and now they both had to live with the consequences.
Taylor opened her eyes, refocusing on the task at hand. She picked up the screwdriver and resumed her work on the tranquilizer gun. The repetitive motions were soothing, giving her something to focus on besides her swirling thoughts.
As she worked, she considered her next moves.
She needed more information before making a decision. Taylor already knew the faces of E88, ABB and the rest, but what about the people who kept their businesses running smoothly? The real major players, in a way? The suppliers, the information brokers.
What were their weaknesses? How could she use that knowledge to her advantage?
The tranquilizer gun was coming together nicely. She held it up, examining her handiwork. It wasn't pretty, but it would get the job done. She'd need to test it, of course, but that could wait.
Setting the gun aside, Taylor leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. Her muscles ached from the previous night's exertions, a constant reminder of the risks she was taking.
But with risk came opportunity. She had the power to make a difference now, to shape the future of her city. It wouldn't be easy, and it certainly wouldn't be safe, but it was a chance she had to take.
She thought about her dad, about the lies she'd told him that morning. The guilt gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside. This was necessary. She was doing this for him, for her mom, for everyone who had ever been pushed around by the gangs and criminals that infested Brockton Bay.
Taylor stood up, walking over to the window. The city sprawled out before her, a maze of streets and buildings hiding countless secrets. Somewhere out there, Lung was plotting his next move. The Undersiders were probably laying low after the casino job. And who knew what other threats were lurking in the shadows?
She turned back to her desk, eyes falling on the tranquilizer gun. It was a start, but she knew she'd need more than just gadgets to succeed. She needed information, strategy, and above all, control.
Control over her powers, control over her emotions, control over the chaos that seemed to follow her wherever she went. It wouldn't be easy, but she was determined to master it all.
As she sat back down at her desk, Taylor felt a sense of purpose wash over her.
She picked up her notebook, flipping to a fresh page. It was time to start planning her next move.
The city wasn't going to save itself, after all.
—
Taylor had the information she needed, a good vantage point, and a new tool, courtesy of Chamber, a French weapons designer.
Of course, not a real designer, but one of the Agents on her list of powers.
The events of the previous night had been enough to be able to recruit him. Not with agent tokens, but with Kingdom credits, whatever that was. Her power was like a window to another world.
Part of her resisted the obvious decision she had to make. No matter how many casinos she hit, how many warehouses and hideouts, it would merely delay the inevitable, especially because she was working alone.
The various operations, the drugs, the weapons.
In the end, it didn't matter.
Lung was the ABB. Without him, they would be nothing.
It was obvious even without the extra information she possessed. For some reason, Lung didn't brag about it, as if he were ashamed of his eventual defeat, but that monster had become strong enough to exchange blows with Leviathan for hours. He only fell when Leviathan left to lick its wounds.
Not being actively involved in a fight, his powers had quickly abandoned him, stopping the transformation. Someone pulled him out of the waters, probably Alexandria or another cape who could fly, preventing him from drowning.
It took time, but Taylor had no doubt that Lung was the strongest parahuman in Brockton Bay.
Still, she could stop him.
With the Tour de Force, it would be easy. All she needed was to kill him with a single bullet. If she gave him time to even register that he had been wounded, his power would kick in and nothing she could do would be able to handle that monster. At least for now. She had twenty-one other agents to recruit.
Taylor opened and closed her fists, feeling Chamber's tattoos writhe under her skin. She had managed to move them to her chest, which was very good since it would have been difficult to explain to dad.
He would probably believe that those who bullied her at school (she felt a pang of guilt, thinking that he still had no idea about Emma, thinking that she had left him in the dark) had forced her to get tattoos.
She wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise. Getting tattoos just because she wanted to wouldn't be like her. Surely no bullied nerd went around with arms covered in tattoos...
Well, as she was saying, Chamber wasn't a Radiant —which meant parahuman, basically— like the other Agents. But he did have something special. He carried an arsenal on his person. His weapons, imbued with Radianite, were the golden tattoos that now covered her chest.
She manifested one of the weapons. One of the tattoos dissolved and its golden energy formed Chamber's Ultimate ability, his Tour de Force.
A sniper rifle, all she needed to, well.
Blow the head off the snake.