As promised in the Interlude, Chapter 4.

Update 23/10/2017- looked over the chapter and realised that my paragraphs had ceased to exist again so updated the formatting to replace them.

Panic boiled in her chest, seemingly mixing with blood into a thick and choking acid that burned in her throat and clogging in her lungs, suffocating and choking her. Taylor knew panic, knew terror, but then she felt The Emperor, ever present, vast and powerful and his presence pushed back her panic just long enough for an ember of defiance to flare in her chest, and Taylor seized it with all her will and fed it into a raging inferno. That defiance, that grim determination that had seen her through all the years of bullying, that would drive her to face death unbowed, spitting bloody hatred and unending fury at her foe kindled, burst into life and Taylor pushed aside her pain, seeing Hookwolf below and swearing that if her death would be at his jaws she would give him the worst indigestion he had ever felt. Still falling freely, Taylor gathered her power, waiting for a physical strike but something slammed into her from the side, carrying her up and away from the waiting, gnashing form and onto a nearby building. Something white, and fast enough to break several of her ribs on impact. The pain blossomed, and Taylor fought against a fresh tide of fear and choking helplessness as her apparent saviour lifted into the air, Taylor held in a rough bridal carry.

'Glory.'

Glory Girl. Evidently, she had disobeyed Taylor's instructions, but Taylor couldn't help but be glad that she had. Even if she would regenerate, being torn to scraps of meat and bone was far from something she wanted to experience.

"Circ! Oh my God-"

Taylor briefly tuned Glory Girl out, turning to look behind the still flying heroine as some danger sense blared. There, on the roof, a man in black and demon mask and knives and grenades.

'Lee!'

Glory couldn't see him, Glory had no idea he was there and Lee was unslinging a grenade from his bandoleer with almost insolent slowness and Taylor could sense a faint trace of satisfaction in the empty wasteland that was his mind and there was no time and she simply reached out with her powers. She smashed into his mind with a psychic attack, not strong enough to kill or even permanently harm him, she didn't have the focus, but Lee was suddenly blind and his limbs were no longer properly connected to his brain and he staggered and collapsed, dropping the grenade off the roof. Taylor vaguely registered Hookwolf barely leap away from the explosion, steel suddenly brittle glass, but Glory Girl was moving much faster and the pain came flooding back and Taylor fought a whimper, sinking into an awful fog of pain and fear, a state barely held back by her will.

"Amy!"

Taylor was roused by Glory Girl shouting, and muzzily noted that it wasn't very professional. The New Wave members should really call each other by hero names when in costume. Although Glory Girl had a white costume, didn't she? Not red.

"Vicky? What is- oh my God!"

Oh. No, right, she'd been stabbed. And she'd bled all over Glory Girl. And Taylor was fairly certain that a normal person would have died by now, because her heart was slowly beating in an erratic, painful thumping and Panacea was rushing towards the two of them even as Glory Girl lowered Taylor hastily yet gently onto a nearby hospital bed. Taylor choked, feeling her heart stop and restart again and blood flooded from her mouth, soaking her scarf once again. It was a good thing that her scarf was black. It would hide the blood. Suddenly she appreciated one of the drawbacks of being a Perpetual: knowing death, your soul remaining even as your body failed. No wonder Vulkan had gone insane.

"Hold her!" Panaceas barked, pulling up a sleeve and flinching as she laid a hand on Taylor's skin.

"Hold her- she isn't struggling!"

"I don't care, she's dying and I don't know how she'll react when I pull the knife. Hold her down!"

There was a ferocious command in Panacea's voice, and Glory Girl did as commanded, placing her hands on Taylor's shoulders and carefully pressing down. Panacea took hold of the knife hilt, and hauled. Taylor screamed, a noise that almost immediately subsided into a rasping, choking noise as blood replaced steel. Her heart beat again, hammering painfully, and Taylor felt her mind waver even as the pain in her chest altered slightly, shifting until it had gone entirely. Healed, though there was a new pain in her arms from her reflexive jolt against Glory Girl. Taylor rolled over the instant she was released, pulling her scarf away from her mouth and vomiting blood onto the floor, hacking and retching before taking a deep, dragging breath. Air. Fresh air, sweet air, she didn't think she would ever take it for granted again.

"Circaetus!"

Glory Girl bent down towards her, but Taylor held up a hand.

"I'm alright." She rasped, gritting her teeth as she pulled her blood-fouled scarf back up. Even if not having it on would only expose the lower portion of her face, she preferred to stay utterly anonymous. Glory Girl hovered, and even Panacea had a pulse of worry in her mind.

"Are you sure? You were a long time without oxygen." Panacea interrupted. Taylor blinked, carefully sitting upright.

"YOUR HEALING PRIORITISED YOUR MIND. EVEN IF IT DID NOT, YOUR SOUL IS MORE IMPORTANT TO YOUR THINKING THAN YOUR MIND." The Emperor supplied. Taylor sent a mental nod.

"I don't think so. I remember my name and everything, at least." She said. Panacea approached, her hand moving towards Taylor again.

"I…do you mind if I look?" she asked. Taylor shook her head.

"Feel free." She said quietly. Panacea briefly pressed her fingers to Taylor's wrist and then stepped back.

"You seem to be fine." She said, returning to a slightly curter manner. Taylor inclined her head.

"Thank you." She said, genuinely grateful. She would have healed eventually on her own, but she had no idea how long she would have had to endure that nightmare as her healing fought against her injuries. Panacea nodded, and sighed.

"You're lucky that I was on a break. What happened?"

Taylor brought her hand up, feeling the rip in her pullover and the slight exposed skin.

"Oni Lee and Hookwolf were fighting it out. I caught their attention to help a civilian family get away from the fighting, but Lee was better than I expected."

'Or I was worse.'

Glory Girl was shaking her head, Taylor noticed.

"Why, though? Why rush in like that, you could have died!"

There was genuine concern in her voice, so Taylor didn't give a glib answer. Instead she sighed, moving her fingers up from her chest to rub gently at her throat.

"Because…because I couldn't bear to stand there and watch as some poor family ended up dead."

Taylor looked up, meeting Glory Girl's eyes.

"And even if I can't save everybody, I can try. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had let those people die." She said. That wasn't entirely true, but that way lay the logic of sacrificing one for many, and the slippery slope thereon. She sighed, scrubbing a hand roughly across her face.

"I'm sorry about, y'know, the blood." She said quietly, gesturing. Panacea shrugged.

"I don't think anyone will begrudge you being stabbed." She responded dryly. A quick check of her watch, and she shook her head.

"I have to go. You're in good health, but try not to get injured again tonight. I don't recommend going out at all."

Taylor watched Panacea turn her back and sighed.

"Thank you." She said, quietly. Panacea paused for a moment, but didn't give a verbal reply as she walked away. Glory Girl looked down at Taylor.

"She was worried about you." She said quietly. Taylor nodded slowly, looking at her feet as she swung herself sideways, her feet just touching the ground.

"I was worried about me."

She tried to respond flippantly, but her voice cracked a little half-way through and she closed her eyes as the remembered sensation of suffocation flooded over her. Taylor silently counted to ten, then forced herself to open her eyes and look up at Glory Girl. The New Wave heroine looked worried, to the point that she was hovering an inch or so off the ground.

"Sorry. I'll be alright." She said. Glory Girl looked unconvinced, but she landed, no longer hovering.

"Are you sure?"

"I-yeah. Yeah, I'm sure. I just need to think. I got cocky, got hurt."

Taylor shrugged.

"It happens."

Glory Girl still looked a little sceptical, but after a few moments of consideration she nodded and turned to the door.

"Alright. If that's what you think. Circaetus…don't forget, I'm here if you need to talk." She said quietly, walking to the door. Taylor cleared her throat a moment before Glory Girl left.

"Glory? Thanks. For the save."

A small smile showed on Glory Girl's face.

"Hey, what else are friends for?" she asked, before walking away. Taylor rubbed her bloody scarf briefly, before sighing and standing. She needed to get out of here. She paced quickly through the hospital, hurrying and stopping only briefly when she saw a bathroom. A quick duck inside, and Taylor paused just long enough to pull her scarf down and scoop some water into her mouth. A swish, and she spat now metallic tasting water into the basin. It came out red, but at least her mouth didn't taste as thickly of blood anymore and running the tap quickly removed the evidence. She pulled her scarf back up and walked again, out into the rainy night.

'What happened to me?' Taylor wondered, perched on a rooftop in the rain. A faint sheen of power enclosed her, warding away the falling water, but she could feel the blood in her scarf, cold and sticky against her skin. She ignored it, too busy thinking.

'The very first night I went out I showed more versatility and imagination than that fight. How did that happen?'

"YOU WERE OVERCONFIDENT. TOO RELIANT ON BRUTE FORCE. AND YET…AND YET, SOMETHING ABOUT IT TROUBLES ME." The Emperor rumbled. Taylor hummed in response, her fingers drifting across the tear in her clothes again, just below her throat.

'And I did the same thing against the Undersiders. Even trying to keep my powers quiet, I have more options than I used. This isn't right.'

Taylor shifted, bringing her hand up to rub two fingers at her forehead.

'It's like I just don't think, like I don't consider any other options. It nearly got me killed, and I lost my staff.'

"IT IS CONCERNING."

'Could there be some sort of psychic influence on me? No…it can't be. Even if I missed it, any psychic would have to be more practiced than you are. Not possible.'

"NOT LIKELY, NO. NOT WITHOUT US AT LEAST SENSING IT."

'Damn. And…I've been sloppy. Even a basic flak jacket would have stopped that knife.' Taylor realised. A piece of equipment that was more than basic in the Imperium, and she had utterly neglected it. Even if she hadn't thought about it, she should have realised just by looking at the costumes of the Wards. Almost all of them were armoured in some way. Vista's breastplate. Clockblocker's armour plates, the power armour that Gallant and Kid Win wore…she had been unbelievably sloppy. Unimaginably sloppy. Being stabbed, especially, and being carried to hospital and bleeding all over the-

'The blood. DNA.'

Taylor boosted herself off the building, sudden fear lending her speed and strength, and ran for the hospital again. She had to stop anyone from getting their hands on her blood, anybody being able to know her identity could be disastrous. Taylor hastily pinpointed the room she had been in from memory, dragged her power in a shroud around her to push people to ignore her, though she slowed down as she entered the hospital. Running was far too obvious, but a swift walk could manage. She moved quickly through the hospital: it was thankfully quiet, and she made good time. She cast her senses out as she approached the room, and felt a smugness from within. Taylor gritted her teeth and clenched her fist, making her way quickly to the door. She slipped into the room, silently closing the door behind her and levelling a cold glare on the back of the kneeling man. She could see that he was crouched over the pool of blood that she had left, and though a mop and bucket was nearby she could also see a slender tube in his hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" Taylor asked, and she almost didn't recognise her voice, low and terrible with wrath. The man stiffened, and she felt fear coil through his mind, followed by a sudden determination. He came to his feet in a swift, jerking motion, and Taylor extended a hand and focused. Her power settled over him, almost like hands pressing on each shoulder, and he was forced back to his knees, muscles straining futilely. The panic came back, stronger than ever, but it wasn't all directed at her. At least some of it was towards his employer. Coil. How interesting, even if the man was acting of his own accord.

"I'll ask once more, and only once. What do you think you're doing?"

The man made an incoherent noise, but his thoughts flickered to Coil. Taylor smiled mirthlessly behind her mask. An agent who wanted to gain favour with the supervillain. How very cliché. Taylor considered, and then moved her fingers slightly. Her power altered, moving to wrap around him. It wasn't easy, not something she could do in a combat situation, but soon he was cocooned in telekinetic force, and Taylor was able to move him like a puppet, forcing him to stand and face her. His fear was thick in his mind as she reached out, gripping his chin in her hand and forcing him to look at her.

"Oh, don't worry. This won't hurt a bit. Just look into my eyes."

A short while later Taylor walked briskly through the rainy night, her expression returned to neutrality. She had found it easy enough to change the memory of Coil's agent: as far as the man was now aware she had never been injured, and he was simply clearing up the blood of some anonymous criminal. She had considered twisting his mind until he served her, until he acted as her agent in Coil's organisation, but determined against it. He was low level and would be outed long before he became useful to her. She steadfastly ignored the small, cold, cruelly pragmatic part of her that suggested that she should have ransacked the man's mind for information and then killed him. It would have served no real purpose, but it was becoming harder and harder to ignore that part of herself.

"THIS CITY IS A POISON." The Emperor commented. Taylor slowed her stride for a moment, frowning. Brockton wasn't that bad, really, especially compared to many of the cities of the Imperium. Although, she had to admit that it wasn't the most pleasant place to live, filled with powerful gangs that out-muscled the Protectorate in the area. And the greater Protectorate did nothing…

'Why is that? How long would it take for the Triumvirate to travel to the city and ambush Lung, or Kaiser? How much would that help?' she reflected sourly. The Emperor hummed in the back of her mind.

"DO THEY NOT AGREE TO LEAVE THEM IN EXCHANGE FOR AID? THIS…ENDBRINGER ACCORD?"

'Endbringer Truce, I think it is. But still, Lung has never fought an Endbringer since he made his name for facing Leviathan. Years and years, and all he does now is lounge in the city, growing fat and rich from his murdering and robbing and slaving and drug trading!'

Anger sparked into life in her chest, a spite directed at the villains who were so happy to hide behind the Endbringer truce even as they sapped away at the life of the city, of the country, and even some anger towards the Protectorate and the PRT, the heroes and the government organisations who let them do it. The Emperor, more jaded, said nothing, and Taylor knew, intellectually, that sometimes sacrifices had to be made. But she had gone through this with him before: even if she knew it in her mind, her soul rebelled against it, disgusted.

'How hard would it be for the Triumvirate to take a day off and hit the big gangs here? How hard would it be for Legend and Alexandria to take Lung out before he gets a chance to ramp up, how hard to decimate the Empire so that the Protectorate in the city can handle them? Why haven't they done it? Why is Brockton being neglected so much, with so much criminal muscle in the city?'

Somewhere along the line of her thought she had stopped being quite so angry, and started to analyse. It didn't really make sense. For all that Brockton was a relatively small city, the gangs were large and powerful, which made the sorry state of the Protectorate all the more suspicious. And why was Emily Piggot in charge of the city PRT? The woman was a bigot and in poor health to boot, which made Taylor suspect that she wasn't as effective a leader as she could be. Of course, the Protectorate had Armsmaster, but he hadn't exactly struck Taylor as a charismatic leader. Maybe she was overthinking things, but some suspicion nagged at her. She was, in fact, so busy thinking that she didn't notice the man approaching from an alleyway until a hand dropped heavily on her shoulder. Unfortunately for the man her reflexes were still fully functional, and he only managed to reignite her wrath. A gun hit her back, she shoved it away with a flicker of power. The gun went off, missing, Taylor twisted free and spun, ramming a fist into her assailant's sternum. A choking gasp followed and the man crumpled, almost falling before Taylor locked her hands onto his jaw and rammed him into the wall, her thumbs pressed just below his eyes. The man frantically rammed his gun back into her side, but it just made her angrier.

"Stop! Stop or I'll shoot!" he cried. Taylor bared her teeth below her scarf, raw anger fuelling her.

"Do it. Pull the trigger. Do it, and I'll drive my thumbs so far into your skull that I can tear your brain out through your eye sockets before I drop you in the Bay. Come on, give me an excuse. I'm sure your family won't miss a criminal like you too much."

The man whimpered, and terror bloomed so thick in him that Taylor would have been able to sense it even without her powers. The gun barrel pressed against her side wavered and then fell away, and Taylor heard it clatter against the ground. The man raised his hands helplessly.

"I…I, please, don't…"

Taylor felt a fresh surge of fury, a sudden, awful temptation to do as she had threatened, to deal a horrid death in retribution for his insolence, but a flash of cold seemed to pierce her spine and she came back to her senses with a jolt of horror and shock. She had released the man and he had slid to the ground, weeping and incoherent, and a flash of guilt and shame blazed through her as she felt his thoughts, and sensed something dire. A family. A family that he had to protect, and a woman in a gas mask.

'What am I doing?' she questioned, her stomach suddenly roiling. A press of her powers identified something in his skull, something small and ominous.

"A BOMB?" The Emperor questioned, concern in the near monotone. Taylor felt her expression twist again, and sympathy pulsed through her. But there was nothing she could do, not at the moment.

"Go. Run. Hope I never see you again." She said harshly, and the sobbing man scrambled to his feet and fled. Taylor watched him run, fists clenching so tightly that her nails would have cut into her palms if it weren't for the gloves that she wore.

'This fucking city. Every time I think I have the depravity and the lunacy understood, one of the bastard criminals pulls out something new. And I can't even go and tell the Protectorate, because who would believe that I magically saw a bomb in some poor bastard's head?'

The Emperor listened to her rant in silence, and said nothing. Taylor closed her eyes in frustration, ignoring the spike of pain that passed through her skull. She had suffocated to death several times tonight, after all. Head pains were probably normal after an experience like that. Well, maybe not normal, but more or less expected. A hand came up and rubbed briefly at her brow.

'First Dinah Alcott, then this bomb thing, and I've still got the Empire to deal with. I may have bitten off more than I can chew.'

A brief, hard smile curved her lips under the mask as her natural defiance and determination reignited.

'Guess I'd better train myself to eat better.' She mentally finished, adding to the analogy. It might not make sense, but hey. She could hardly be accused of being completely sane.

The Boat Graveyard. The Boat Graveyard was, perhaps, not the most secure place to practice. It was, perhaps, a little cliché. But, most importantly, it was big and empty, and Taylor could do whatever she damn well pleased while there. Presently, though, she was sitting on a chair she had dragged from a slightly rusting cabin, thinking. Her problem, Taylor concluded, was that she had no mid-range. Her abilities went from taking down normal humans to popping brains and scrambling minds, with very little in-between. That meant that she needed to work on it, otherwise reasonably tough opponents- like Hookwolf- would take everything she could reasonably dish out without flinching. And illusions were unsuitable for her claimed power set. Well, she supposed that she could blind someone and argue that she had damaged the optic nerves -which was what she fully intended to claim for Oni Lee if anyone asked, given that he's been picked up by a Protectorate response team and was currently being held by the PRT- but that was probably a permanent thing. Which would probably be bad. Being blind was one of the things that people got quite squeamish about.

'I really have come a long way. From a simple bullied schoolgirl to someone who thinks nothing of blinding people in a few months.' She mentally remarked. Carefully, she did not reflect upon the ethical implications of that change. As had become his way, The Emperor said nothing to her consideration. In some ways, Taylor appreciated it. Any reassurances would have seemed empty. But what did it matter? She was here to train and plot. Brooding and angst could wait for a few hundred years.

'Doesn't matter. First things first.' She told herself. The Emperor stirred in her mind.

"HAVE YOU CONSIDERED ARMOURING YOURSELF?" He questioned. Taylor thought back to her brief ponderings on the flak armour of the Imperium, and shook her head.

'I can't make any armour without better facilities to produce the ceramite or armaplas. But I'm thinking that I can protect myself by taking a trick from a villain's book. More precisely, a villain we met on our first expedition…'

Bringing the image of the Empire Cape Rune to mind and closing her eyes, Taylor rose from her seat and held out a hand, focusing. Rune was quite limited, having to touch the items that she wanted to control. Taylor had no such limits, and the ship shuddered slightly around her as her power worked upon it. She kept her power limited, not wanting to damage the ship, but she could feel parts of the interior ripping free, dragged towards her. Taylor smiled, opening her eyes to find herself in the middle of a swirling maelstrom of metal fragments.

'Let's see that bastard Lee get through this.'

"NOT BAD. BUT NOT EXACTLY AN EASY THING TO DO…OR PRACTICAL. HOW MUCH POWER AND SCRAP ARE YOU EXPENDING FOR THIS?" The Emperor questioned. Taylor clenched her fist, a snarled curse escaping her mouth as her bubble burst and she let the shrapnel fall. The Emperor sent a feeling of apology, but she knew that he was right. It was simply impractical. That didn't mean it was useless, but maybe she should practice something else. Something more direct, maybe.

'I can throw lightning, that isn't too hard and I can pretend that I'm telekinetically creating friction or something. What about fire?'

The Emperor hummed thoughtfully.

"WARPFIRE MAY BE USEFUL TO YOU, I SUPPOSE. YES. IT MIGHT NOT EVEN BE TOO SUSPICIOUS, PROVIDING YOU CAN BLUFF IT WITH THE SAME EXPLANATION AS LIGHTNING. HOWEVER, IT WILL NOT DO A GREAT DEAL TO SOLVE YOUR ISSUE WITH LETHAL FORCE."

Taylor shook her head.

'Doesn't matter. Fire is a great distraction, and would let me block people from escaping. Plus, it gives me a way to escape a dangerous situation. Somebody who is stop, drop and rolling because they're on fire is someone who can't be running after me.'

She sensed The Emperor agree with her, a tinge of amusement at her reasoning flickering through, before he began talking again.

"WARPFIRE IS, BY ITS NATURE, VERY SIMILAR TO NORMAL FIRE. HOWEVER…WARPFIRE TENDS TO REPLACE PART OF THE…FIRE TRIANGLE, I BELIEVE IT IS CALLED, USING WARP ENERGY IN PLACE OF FUEL AND, IN PART, OXYGEN. THAT DOES STILL MEAN THAT YOU REQUIRE A SOURCE OF IGNITION, WHICH IS USUALLY PROVIDED IN THE SAME MANNER AS LIGHTNING. THE FIRE ACTS LIKE NORMAL FLAME STILL, THOUGH, ANY OTHER PROPERTIES TEND TO BE INHERENT TO THE WARP ENERGY USED AND FALL UNDER FULL SORCERY."

'Like the warpfire a Chaos sorcerer could wield melting through armour.'

"YES, THAT WOULD BE AN EXAMPLE OF A SORCERER ALIGNED TO TZEENCH. I WOULD NOT EXPECT YOU TO BE ABLE TO MANIPULATE THE ENERGY OF THE WARP TO ALLOW SUCH ALTERATIONS FOR YEARS YET, PERHAPS CENTURIES. EVEN GENERATING A FIREBALL WITHOUT WEEKS OR MONTHS OF PRACTICE WOULD BE IMPRESSIVE."

Taylor focused. She knew that her powers could, at the crudest, be compared to a watermill. A normal person was not a watermill, and was merely at the edge of the river- the river, in this case, being the Warp. She had the mill, and a small amount of water constantly flowed through, providing power, the fuel for her abilities. More powerful abilities required more water, meaning that she had to 'open' the gate, thus allowing more warp energy to flow through her. Of course, in the home universe of The Emperor that analogy would require the addition of piranhas or crocodiles to cover the possibility of allowing a daemon access to your mind and soul when drawing power, but that was taking the analogy too far and wasn't really relevant. The point was, she hadn't been using a great deal of warp energy in her escapades, preferring to manage on a lower, passively flowing amount, so this would be a relatively new experience. Somehow, she already knew it would be frustrating.

"AS I SAID, IT WILL TAKE TIME BEFORE YOU ARE ABLE TO USE FIRE." The Emperor rumbled the next morning, as Taylor passed through the gates to her school.

'Yes, I'm aware of that. Still, I had hoped for at least a slight progress. I don't have time to waste.'

Taylor looked up, eyes narrowing as she looked at the stream of teenagers making their way into the school. As her powers developed and grew- and she spent more and more time running around the city fighting crime- she had become less and less dependent on sleep, but she had not yet reached the point where the four hours she had managed last night would suffice and she was tired. It made her irritable, and the thought of having to deal with her schoolmates made the irritation worse.

'I don't have time to hang around here. I'm going to go with the plan we came up with, and get myself time until the Bay has calmed down and I'm more sure that the ABB or the Empire aren't going to start a war in the streets.' She said, coming to a conclusion.

"AS YOU WISH."

Taylor reinforced her mental barrier of slight seclusion and picked up her pace, moving more quickly towards the school and hurrying through, her destination clear in her mind: the office of the Headmistress. As always, a secretary sat at a desk just outside the office, but the woman was merely a straw fence offering token resistance before the flood of personality and mind-altering psyker power that Taylor brought. Mostly psyker power, personality was something that Taylor reserved for people that she cared about. Nevertheless, she was able to pass into the Headmistress' office easily enough, and came face to face with the short, unpleasant form of Principal Blackwell. The degree to which the Principal reminded Taylor of the Director of the PRT was remarkable, and not in a good way. Taylor couldn't say she liked either of them. Bitter, miserable bureaucrats who delighted in making others miserable. Though Piggot at least had a reason, her experiences with the S-Class criminal cape Nilbog were something Taylor had come across in her research. Blackwell was just a bitch.

"Did you want something, Miss Hebert?" Blackwell asked. Taylor schooled her face in neutrality, hiding the sneer that wanted to flow so naturally across her features.

"I did, Principal. I wanted to talk about the Locker incident, actually." She said, politely. A tendril of psychic power snaked out at her command, sinking invisibly into Blackwell's mind. Just some minor manipulation would do, nothing too blatant. A slight nudge, just enough to push Blackwell into not dismissing her. It wasn't hard, the woman's mind had no strength to it.

"What about it?" Blackwell asked curtly. Taylor gritted her teeth and kept her expression in place. The Principal damn well knew about what Sophia Hess was doing, what she had done. So much for the inherent goodness of humanity.

"Well, my grades have been slipping since then, I'm still a little shaken about it. So, I was hoping that I could take some time off, to be tutored away from school."

Taylor gently moulded her power, swaying Blackwell. Normally, the woman would dismiss her request without a second thought, and normally Taylor would consider leaving a retreat and unacceptable. But Coil was up to something and Bakuda was up to something and Taylor simply didn't have time to be in school. Blackwell looked up, faking interest. Taylor fought the urge to turn her into a vegetable or, even better, to implant little suggestions, little foolishnesses and stupidities in the psyche that would end in Blackwell having an 'accident'. Oh, it would be so easy, the elegance of the plan so delicious, but Taylor pushed the urge away. She wasn't a murderer. Not yet.

"Mm…it is not normally our policy, Miss Hebert, to allow such liberties. Especially not to those who have, as you say, slipping grades. Education is important, after all."

Taylor pressed her power a little harder, in preparation for her next statement.

"Yes, Principal. It's just that, well, I was talking to a friend who knows a solicitor and she thinks that, given what happened, I may not have been treated quite correctly…"

Taylor pushed part of Blackwell's mind, increasing her fear of being found out while dulling her logic. Blackwell might accuse her of blackmail if Taylor wasn't careful. Taylor spoke on, before Blackwell had a chance to.

"And I've been looking at some psychology and it says that it might be better for me if I can take a break, come back more stable. And if I improve after I come back, you can hold it up as a wonderful idea…my improvement would all be down to you, of course."

A little flattery and promises of reward never hurt, and it made Taylor's job easier as she carefully altered tiny emotions and thoughts to steer Blackwell in the direction of her thinking and tweaked the Principals memories, just a little. Blackwell would remember this 'study break' as her idea. It would definitely make her a lot less likely to bring it to the attention of anyone important.

"I…see. You have a tutor, you say?" Blackwell asked. Taylor let a small, polite smile replace her neutral expression, rather than the distinctly feral grin that was her first thought. Hook, line and sinker. And if the tutor she was speaking of was The Emperor, what of it? He was certainly closer to her than any other teacher could be.

'There is something wonderful about success.' Taylor mused as she walked away from the school, a piece of paper recording her eventual agreement with Blackwell- a month long break, with no repercussions provided she passed a class test at the end of it with a good mark. An excellent agreement, and one that would give her plenty of time to deal with the tensions that were quickly rising in Brockton Bay.

'Hmm…what's the best way to deal with it, do you think?'

"I WOULD FIND INFORMATION BEFORE YOU ATTEMPT TO MAKE ANY SOLID PLANS."

'Well, I suppose that you're right. Lucky that we have all this free time from now on, yes?'

"YOU STILL NEED TO RECREATE A STAFF. AND GOING OUT IN THE DAYLIGHT IS INADVISABLE, WHEN YOU HAVE ONLY JUST CEASED GOING TO SCHOOL. IT WILL MAKE YOU EASIER TO IDENTIFY."

Taylor tutted as she walked.

'Take away all fun, why don't you? But you are right. I suppose it's to a park for some wood then. Ah, it's a glamorous life I lead.'

That night Taylor left her house again, sneaking out of the bedroom window after her father had gone to bed. Her new staff hung loosely in her hand, still rough to the touch but passable, and she moved through the shadows with confidence. She knew the location of at least one Empire safehouse, and she fully intended to hit it- after all, she wanted information on Coil, and who would know better than his enemies? Apart from his friends and himself, naturally, but Coil's operations were a little bit more discreet, a little bit harder to find for her. And so, Empire it was. She actually hoped that she didn't run into any Empire capes: for all that she would like a re-match with Hookwolf, it was something that she wanted to be ready for. Something she could go in and open with a sucker punch. She kept a good pace, and soon came to the Empire safehouse: very much a non-descript building, a terraced house in a poorer part of town. Taylor hid herself in a shadow on the opposite side of the street and considered.

'Six men in the building. Both neighbours are occupied, three people in the right side house and two in the left. They're all asleep, but I don't know if they'll ring the police or PRT if they get woken up. We'll have to do this nice and quiet then…'

That was a pity. Taylor had been toying with the idea of faking an assault by Coil's men, using her ability to change memories to alter the remembrance of the attack, but it wouldn't work here. Too many witnesses. She'd have to put it off for a different safehouse. A real shame, it would have been very convenient for her if she could persuade the Empire to draw Coil out for her.

"IT WOULD APPEAR THAT YOU WILL BE FORCED TO BE STEALTHY." The Emperor commented. Taylor sighed.

'It certainly appears so. This takes all the fun out of breaking, entering and assault. I can't even be too scary, if they start screaming it might be an issue.'

Ah well, she couldn't always get her way she supposed. Taylor looked carefully at the safe house, trying to decide on a way in. A window on the uppermost floor, with a drainpipe close by offered a possibility. She sneaked across to the bottom of the drainpipe, and realised that she couldn't climb up with her staff in hand.

'Remind me to create some kind of carrier for my staff, in case I have to do this again.' She said, before laying her staff carefully down and taking a grip on the drainpipe, testing its strength. She guessed that it would hold, but she wasn't certain that this was the best way. After all, it was quite possible that the window would be unable to open far enough. If she climbed up the drainpipe and then found herself stuck outside the window it would ruin her reputation. Even if no-one ever learned of it.

"WITH THE ADDITION OF LIGHTENING YOURSELF, YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO CLIMB UP WITHOUT ANY UNDUE PROBLEMS. BUT YOU ARE CORRECT, THE WINDOW MAY NOT OFFER AN ACCESS POINT WITHOUT BEING BROKEN."

'Y'know what? I'm just going to try the door.'

Subtlety was overrated anyway. Taylor pulled her staff back into her hand with a flicker of telekinetic force, and walked to the door. Locked. Here she had a conundrum: did she smash the door down, or try something less violent? Well, she might as well attempt a less direct manner, she decided.

'I wonder if I can pick locks using telekinesis?'

As it turned out, she might not have been able to. The Emperor, however, had more knowledge on how locks worked, and therefore was able to coach her through it. It only took a minute or so before the lock clicked and Taylor eased the door open.

'I'll have to practice that. Being able to do it is really useful.' She mused as she carefully shut the door. She turned on her heel, just as a shaven-headed man in a white vest and dark trousers stepped out of the room that bordered the small entrance hall. There was an instant of staring at one another, and then the Empire goon opened his mouth. Taylor reacted instinctively, and a gesture and a flicker of power closed his airway. The shout turned to a choked gasp, and Taylor lunged past the choking man into the living room. There was one other man in there.

"Barry? What-"

Taylor caught the second man off guard, stunning him with a blow from her staff and knocking him unconscious with the familiar spark of psionic power, transmitted through her fingertips. She turned back to the first man, cancelling the effect of her power on him as she saw that he was lying still on the floor. Taylor quickly knelt next to him, checking for a pulse: she needed to know if he was alive. After all, Shadow Stalker- Sofia Hess- had been shanghaied into the Wards after nearly killing a man. If Taylor had just killed the Empire goon his body would need to disappear. And his friends. She hoped he was still alive, it was a long way to the Bay when carrying several bodies. Fortunately, he had a pulse.

'Well, that's a relief. It would be quite embarrassing to tell Piggot that I wasn't as stupid as Shadow Stalker and then accidentally kill a man.'

Taylor patted the unconscious man on the head and stood up. There were still four more men in the house, after all. Taylor took a moment to locate them, feeling the approximate location of their minds, and set off, treading carefully. There were two in a single room upstairs, one on the ground floor with her and one final goon in a different upstairs room.

'The individuals first, then.'

The man downstairs was easy: he was in the kitchen, head bobbing from side to side as he listened to music on a pair of headphones. Taylor simply crept up behind him and rendered him unconscious with her usual close range psionic spark. She dragged him into the living room, leaving him next to the first two before moving to the stairway. She looked at the uncarpeted stairs for a moment, before deciding not to risk them creaking and carefully using a variation of her levitation to lighten herself until she could be sure of making no noise. It was still somewhat tiresome, but not as tiring as fully levitating would be. She reached the top of the stairs, finding herself in a small corridor, with three doors leading off from it. The noise of running water came from behind one, and a soft creaking and moaning from the other. Taylor settled into a kneeling position while she briefly conversed with The Emperor.

'Interrupt a shower or a couple having sex. Somehow, I never thought that this situation would come up.'

The Emperor gave a deep laugh, which was particularly odd given its monotone nature.

"AN UNFORTUNATE SITUATION INDEED. HOWEVER, I WOULD SUGGEST THAT THE SHOWERING CRIMINAL WOULD BE BETTER- IT WILL BE LESS AWKWARD FOR YOU AND IF YOU WAIT THE…INTIMATE COUPLE, SHALL WE SAY, MAY WELL HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP. OR CAN BE GENTLY PERSUADED TO DO SO."

Taylor had to admit, the suggestion had merit. One naked person was definitely less awkward than two naked people, even without the whole sex thing. With that in mind, she placed her hand against the bathroom door. It was held shut with a deadbolt, but…well, telekinesis. Unimaginably versatile. The bolt slid back, and Taylor shoved the door open. The man had just gotten out of the shower, and was nowhere near fast enough to react as she rapped her staff against his head, channelling a psionic spark through the wood as an experiment. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. Unfortunately, that meant that Taylor had to catch him. Which meant that she briefly had a skinny, scrawny, ugly gang member pressed against her body. She let him slide quietly to the floor and immediately began to shudder and flail in disgust.

'I've changed my mind on the relative awkwardness of the two situations. Also, I think any attraction to men that I had has gone. At least for a while.'

The Emperor was laughing. Absolute bastard, Taylor concluded, and communicated that to him as she dropped a towel on the fallen Empire member, to cover him up. He was certainly not the best example of the male form.

'Alright, now for the love-bunnies.'

She used the plan that The Emperor had suggested, with a slight change. The man in the room was hit by a deep suggestion that he should sleep: combined with the fact that he was falling asleep anyway, it took easily and held fast. The woman was urged to head to the bathroom, and Taylor dragged the scrawny gang member aside and lurked behind the door, waiting. It was easy to surprise the woman, and Taylor staggered her with a strong blow to the back of the head and pushed her against the wall. Their eyes met, and Taylor broke into her mind with ease. She was more experienced now than she had been the first time, and the woman would suffer no ill effects beyond disorientation for a few hours after she awoke: it was a simple matter to alter memories so that she believed she had simply been knocked unconscious. Taylor smiled to herself. Fortune had smiled upon her: the woman was the highest ranked Empire member in the building and had known the location of a larger Empire storehouse and the hiding places of the drug, weapon and cash stashes in this safehouse. One quick looting trip and she could be on her way.

The second Empire safehouse was a warehouse. Looking derelict, Taylor could sense the busy minds within, almost a dozen. She carefully scouted, making sure that there were no security cameras in the warehouse that might disrupt her plans, and then smiled to herself. Trying to be stealthy had been surprisingly enjoyable- disturbingly naked goons aside- but there was something far more delectable in the thrill of full combat. Not that she would be taking credit for it…no, there were no cameras and so she could make use of her plan to point the Empire at Coil. She sneaked into the warehouse, concentrated, and cast her illusion. To the gang members, sound and sight suddenly ceased to function. An instant later Taylor tore their weapons from them, and moved swiftly among them to knock them out. Fast, clean, efficient. She didn't have time to torment, she had memories to modify. Twelve implanted memories of an assault by the distinctively equipped mercenaries that Coil favoured, and Taylor was almost done. It was easy to pile the Empire members just outside the door, and take her share of the loot in the warehouse before using the skills at arson that The Emperor had acquired over his life to ignite an area at the back of the building, far away from the gang members. Taylor waited long enough to see the warehouse fully catch light, and then left with a smile on her face. One minor gang war for her benefit, made to order. She had to admit, she would consider this particular night quite a success.

Two nights later, Taylor was less certain of the success of her plan. She had expected some fighting to be underway by now, but it seemed like Coil and the Empire had either come to a truce or were being unexpectedly cautious. How annoying. She was crouched on another rooftop, considering whether to step up her efforts and include the ABB in her attempts at provoking a minor gang war when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Taylor pulled it out, frowning at the number she didn't recognise, but answering.

"Circaetus!"

Even in a whisper, the voice was easy to recognise.

"Tattletale? What-"

"There isn't any time! Bakuda, she- she came after us, she wants us for her head bomb squad! She's already got Bitch and Regent, she's coming after me, you're the only one who can help!"

Taylor immediately shelved her questions about where exactly Tattletale had gotten her phone number at that. Bakuda with civilian suicide bombers was bad enough. With a fairly capable cape squad? Bad news, especially given that it would more than double the effective Cape power of the ABB. Triple, in fact, since Oni Lee was still in PRT custody.

There was an explosion in the distance, and Taylor slowly turned to see that fire was already licking at the walls of the PRT building. Alright. Maybe Oni Lee would not be in custody for much longer. Taylor gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to hang up and go to help the Wards. No, she concluded, they were smart enough to avoid tangling with Lung. Save the Undersiders first, prevent Bakuda and Lung from acquiring a potentially deadly asset.

"Alright." She said into the phone. "Tell me where you are, and I'll be on my way."

Another Chapter done, another cliffhanger. Sometimes I worry that I'm becoming predictable. Regardless, we got to see the aftermath of Chapter 3, and some extra. Taylor skipping school isn't permanent, but I needed a way to avoid having to write 'Taylor was in school and-' multiple times.

As ever, I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to put down any thoughts you have in a review.