As always, Worm does not belong to me. And neither does Warhammer 40k, come to think of it.
Chapter 7
Taylor returned to consciousness with the slow thumping of her heart filling her head, a brief jolt of pain pulsing with the beat but slowly receding. She cracked open her eyelids, a gargantuan effort that felt harder than anything in her fight with Lung, and peered up at the person leaning over her. Really, she supposed that she should leap to her feet, athletically prepared for battle and lashing out blindly, but she hurt too much for that.
Fortunately, her mouth still worked.
"Where 'm I?" she managed, her voice croaky and rasping but recognisable. The white dressed figure in the corner of her eye turned.
"You're in my house." Panacea said, her voice mildly disapproving. Taylor blinked slowly, some of her mind coming back online.
"Why am I in your house?" she said, her voice still unsteady but at least pronouncing properly.
"Because you just went ten rounds with Lung. And, more importantly, it was all seen by the Snitch." Announced Glory Girl, sweeping in and leaning over Taylor. Taylor blinked at her, and Glory grinned.
"Yep. Everybody in the know got to watch you throw down with Lung in full, high def, glorious livestream. Couldn't take you to hospital, you'd be swamped."
"With what? People wanting to know how getting the crap beaten out of you feels?" Taylor managed. Panacea snorted. Glory blinked, glancing at her sister.
"You mean, how does it feel to beat the crap out of yourself. All those micro injuries aren't from Lung, are they?"
Taylor shut her mouth and turned her face away a fraction, her expression hardening. She did what she had to. What she wanted to. Panacea continued.
"No. I've even seen the video. You pushed yourself so hard that your body began to break down. Bones fracturing. Blood vessel rupturing. Muscles tearing. If it wasn't for your regeneration you would be dead, or in a coma. If I hadn't healed you, you wouldn't even be moving."
Glory Girl had fallen silent, and Taylor could feel her stare. Not as strongly as usual, like her powers were muffled, but sometimes it was less power and more a sixth sense.
"What?" Glory asked, her voice quiet. Taylor gritted her teeth. Why did Panacea have to decide that now was the time? Why did she even have to say anything, Taylor was more than capable of making her own decisions. But Glory Girl needed an answer.
"Some powers have limits." She said, reluctantly deciding that she would need to give away some information. And Glory Girl was her friend, right? It couldn't hurt to trust her. Could it? This was the time when some advice from the ancient being sharing her soul would be appreciated.
"TRUST IS A HARD THING TO GIVE."
'Yes, I'm sure you would know about that.' Taylor returned, an unusual bite in her tone. The Emperor was silent for a long moment.
"I WOULD, YES. ARE YOU NOT DETERMINED TO AVOID REPEATING MY MISTAKES?"
Taylor closed her eyes again.
'I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.'
"I KNOW."
Taylor opened her eyes again, looking up at Panacea and Glory Girl. She didn't speak immediately, instead moving her limbs and slowly pushing herself into a sitting position in the bed: she still hurt, but it was less a searing pain and more of a dull ache. It was already fading.
"Some powers have limits." She repeated, looking at Glory Girl and mentally weaving the mixture of lies and truth that she was about to reveal. Misdirection, that was the key.
"There are all sorts of theories about powers, and the Manton Limit. I've seen theories that the Manton Limit exists to prevent powers from harming their user, so on and so on."
"You aren't Manton limited." Glory Girl said flatly. Taylor gave a small laugh.
"No. No, I'm not. And my powers are not shackled to the level that I usually display. But to go above that limit, to surpass the boundaries of my power…requires a sacrifice. In this case, the sacrifice is linked to the inevitable frailty of the flesh."
Taylor looked up and smiled.
"The backlash is too much. Begins breaking down my body. A price I'm willing to pay."
"A price you're- you could have died! Why are you smiling?" Glory Girl demanded, her voice filled with emotion. Taylor shrugged.
"Everybody dies someday." She said quietly, keeping her voice light. And then her voice hardened a little.
"And besides that, I wasn't going to just run away. If I had, he would have gone after the Undersiders. He would have come after me, he would have come after you. And even more than that, he would have been furious and, with no-one to keep him occupied, who do you think would have suffered? All the people around. No. I wasn't going to allow that."
'And besides that, I wasn't going to let Lung think he could get away with what he was doing. He's been able to do whatever he likes for too long now.'
"And if you had died? What then?" Panacea asked, her voice hard. Taylor turned her gaze to her, her own stare unyielding and uncompromising.
"If I had died, I would have done so for something I believed in. Something I wanted to fight for. Something I felt bound to do. I don't expect you to follow my example, and I don't expect you to approve. But,"
Taylor stopped and sighed, reining herself in and lowering her voice from where it had begun to rise.
"But. I do expect that you will allow me to make my own choices." She finished quietly. Glory Girl and Panacea stared at her in silence, until Glory Girl cleared her throat.
"Nobody is saying that you made the wrong choice." She said, although she sounded a little uncomfortable as she said it.
"But fighting Lung alone isn't really something most people would do."
Taylor carefully swung herself sideways in the bed, planting her feet on the floor. Her bones still ached, but she ignored the pain and slowly stood.
"Most people aren't heroes." She said quietly, ignoring Panacea for the moment. She sighed and looked at Glory.
"Would you have hesitated to fight him if it meant I would get away?"
Glory Girl didn't respond and Taylor shrugged weakly.
"I realise that it isn't quite the same. But I couldn't just run away." She said quietly. She looked down at herself- she was still almost fully dressed, one of the perks of Panacea needing only a little skin contact to heal she supposed. Only missing boots, pullover and her gloves. And her coat. Her poor, poor coat. She had liked that coat.
"Thank you for the rescue, and the healing." She said quietly. Panacea grunted, a non-comital noise.
"You did save my sister." She responded, although Taylor thought she heard an edge to the voice. Jealousy, maybe, or resentment, faint but present. She shrugged it away. It didn't matter. Slowly, Taylor reached a hand up to her face: her balaclava was still in place, battered and scorched though it was. She sighed and turned to Panacea and Glory Girl.
"Do you happen to have the rest of my clothes? Much as I am enjoying your company, I do need to return home at some point. Preferably soon." She said. Glory Girl looked at her, a briefly mutinous expression indicating that she didn't think that the conversation was over, but she merely nodded.
"I'll go grab them for you." She said, walking past Taylor. Taylor switched her gaze to Panacea, who looked far more severe, to the point that a frown creased her expression.
"You're leaving?" she asked. Taylor met her gaze evenly.
"I am, yes. I can't stay out too late, past my bed-time." She responded, aware that her tone was slightly sharp but somehow irritated with Panacea. Probably because she called her out on being reckless. Taylor was just about self-aware enough to recognise that she wasn't a fan of being questioned.
"Oh. Yes, of course. You're just going to deflect me with quips and mocking remarks. Just like you always do to everybody." Panacea said, her gaze not wavering. Taylor narrowed her eyes.
"What are you saying, Panacea?" She said, her tone flat. Panacea kept her frown.
"That you go out and risk yourself without thinking. That you're obsessed with being the hero, to the point that you'll happily put yourself in harms way in order to fulfil some need of yours. That you're a bad example for anyone to follow." Panacea returned. Taylor looked at her grimly.
"You're free to think that, of course. You're free to think the worst of anyone. But it isn't going to make a difference to what I do." She said, very calmly. Panacea nodded.
"Yes. Yes, I can imagine that it won't."
She glanced aside, sighing. Her posture lost some of the hostility, and she looked tired when she looked back.
"I've always known that you're one of them. One of those Parahumans who is delighted to have powers. Who lets themselves be consumed by it, thinks they can make a difference. And I suppose that you have."
There was something rather final in the words, and Taylor shifted slightly, a faint sense of unease in the back of her mind.
"What do you mean, have? I intend to continue making a difference." She said. Panacea sighed, turning away.
"I thought you would say that. Have you ever heard of the Corolla Genma and the Corolla Potentia?"
The sudden conversation change confused Taylor a little. She didn't have anything close to the knowledge of the Emperor when it came to biology, but she knew a fair amount, and she had never heard of anything like that.
"THEY ARE UNKNOWN TO ME ALSO."
"No. I've never heard of them. Nor do I see the relevance." She said cautiously. Panacea still didn't look at her.
"The Corolla Potentia is an organ, located in the brain. There isn't that much known about it, but it appears in many humans. The Corolla Genma, on the other hand, is larger, and appears in every parahuman. There are theories that it's the source of powers."
Taylor blinked at the casual way Panacea disclosed that information, especially as it was useful. She turned her full attention to the conversation.
"I assume there is some relevance to me in this?" she said warily, aware that her powers did not stem from the same source as parahumans. Surely Panacea had not worked that out?
"Yes, there is relevance. You see, when I examine someone I cannot affect the brain. I can see it, for want of a better word, but not affect it."
'Lie.' Taylor thought dimly, but she ignored the implications for the moment, as Panacea was still talking.
"When I first examined you I noted that your biology was changing slightly, almost as though it was altering you to some template. It was unusual, but I thought nothing of it. And then, as I continued to examine you over the days and weeks, I noticed that not only your body was changing: your mind was altering too. Mainly…your Corolla Genma, already somewhat small compared to others, was shrinking. Almost atrophying."
Taylor felt her mouth dry. Panacea turned.
"You were being afflicted with headaches. But there was nothing I could do but watch. I assumed that your regeneration would fix the problem, but if anything it seems to be getting worse, even as your body moves towards some theoretical model. And today? After you passed out? The atrophy has massively increased. Which means, if theories about powers stemming from the Corolla Genma are correct…"
Taylor turned away, and lifted her hand towards a lamp. She lifted her hand. Just a slight pull. Levitation. Easy, simple. Nothing happened, and a feeling like ice water flooded down her back.
"Your powers have been affected. At the current rate of decay, I estimate that your Genma will have completely atrophied in approximately three months time. I can't be certain, but it would appear that you powers have a time limit."
Taylor let her hand fall, and closed her eyes.
"I'm sorry." Panacea offered quietly. Taylor shook her head slightly.
'Emperor.'
"SOMETHING IS WRONG. YOU CANNOT ACCESS YOUR POWERS PROPERLY, THIS SHOULD NOT BE THE CASE. THIS COROLLA GENMA SHOULD NOT HAVE AFFECTED YOU."
'But it has. It has…my powers aren't there any more. And if they are…what if they don't come back? What if they come back and then I lose them for good? What if my powers have a time limit?'
The Emperor didn't answer. Taylor let her chin fall onto her chest, despair sweeping through her. How could she be a hero without powers?
Taylor wasn't certain how she got home. Oh, she knew that she got a lift from Glory Girl, carrying her to a neighbourhood relatively close to her home, and then she walked, carefully, avoiding attention, but she did it all on auto-pilot, sunk into a deep pit of despair that consumed her utterly. She looked after herself, still fed herself and made the appropriate small talk with her father, but she barely said a word to The Emperor, and he left her to her silence and misery. And, as though to feed the monster of despair that rested in her soul, the city descended into warfare. Maybe not as bad as PHO had predicted, the Empire and Coil were too cautious for that, but lines were changing and violence was increasing and Taylor simply did nothing.
She sat in her room, sunken in misery and depression, but she could not remain so forever. Even as Taylor moped- Brooded, she corrected herself half-heartedly, brooding was heroic while moping was…sad. Regardless, even as she brooded life went on, she needed food as much as any other and so she couldn't brood for too long
So it was that she found herself making her weary way to a nearby store for food. She walked along more slowly than normal, making herself unobtrusive as she remained sunk in gloom. The store was relatively empty, but as she walked along she noted a small boy, running around with the boundless enthusiasm of a toddler. She blinked as he ran past her, turning her head a fraction to watch, and he slipped. A slide, laughter turning to a cry of alarm, and a heavy thud that brought a faster beat to her heart as he crashed face first into a shelf, heavy cans of food falling and the wail starting even as-
Taylor blinked. The boy slipped. Her hand snapped out, almost of its own accord, and she caught the back of his coat and yanked him backwards, arresting his slide before it could even begin, the wail of surprise dying in his throat.
'What the fuck?'
"You ok kid?" she asked, looking down. The kid blinked up at her, then nodded so enthusiastically that she felt tired just watching him, but somehow the cloud of gloom was lifting, the storm clearing away in the face of rays of light. For the first time in almost three days she felt clear headed, like she could think and act again.
"Yeah! Yeah, thanks Miss!"
Taylor mustered a smile, making sure that the kid was back on his feet before letting him go.
"No problem. Be more careful next time, yeah?" she said, shooing him towards his stressed looking mother with a smile before walking past, deeper into the store
'I didn't imagine that, did I?' she mentally asked, plucking a loaf of bread from a shelf with the smile still on her features slowly broadening, becoming more real.
"YOU DID NOT. THAT WAS SOMETHING NEW." The Emperor commented. Taylor smiled a little wider.
'I thought so. That was foresight. Genuine seeing the future. That's a psyker power, I shouldn't have that. I thought I lost my powers.'
"CAN YOU REPLICATE IT?"
Taylor closed her eyes a fraction, thinking back. She hadn't really intended to do anything, it had come from nowhere, but she thought back to how she had stepped, the feeling that had briefly pulsed through her the brief vision. She turned, heading through the shop and walked towards the cashier, maybe five seconds worth of movement. She blinked, finding herself looking at the bread again, a slight weariness entering her.
'Oh. Oh, it's there. It's back. I can feel it again.'
"YOU CAN USE IT ON COMMAND. EXCELLENT."
Taylor walked to the cashier and paid, almost in a daze as she realised that her powers had not deserted her at all, for all that her brute strength seemed reduced she was not utterly bereft.
"WHAT IS THE SAYING? IF ONE DOOR CLOSES-"
'A window opens? Accurate enough.' Taylor replied, her gloom banished by the sudden change, the realisation that she had sunk into despair for no reason. Her sudden lightness of spirit buoying her, she walked home far more briskly than she had, her smile still in place. No longer was there moping and misery, the determination had returned, Circaetus still there, displacing the monster in her heart.
"AH. ARE YOU OVER YOUR BURST OF ANGST, THEN?"
'I prefer to think of it as a deep and brooding time of re-consideration. But yeah, I'm over it.'
"GOOD TO HEAR. I WAS WAITING FOR YOU TO PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER AND SPEAK TO ME. IF YOU HAD, I COULD HAVE TOLD YOU MY THEORY ABOUT YOUR POWERS, AND THAT THE LOSS WAS ONLY EVER TEMPORARY."
'You couldn't have just told me?' she asked, stepping back into her house.
"CONSIDER IT AN OBJECT LESSON IN NOT FALLING TO DESPAIR. THAT IS THE WAY OF THE PLAGUEFATHER."
'Consider that lesson learned. Although, even if I can see the future it was a little tiring, and only gave a few seconds. I can't go out like I did before, can I?'
"NO, I DO NOT BELIEVE SO. HOWEVER, I ASSUME FROM YOUR TONE THAT YOU HAVE A PLAN?" the Emperor said, the faintest hint of amusement edging his monotone.
'Just a small one. Tell me, how hard do you think it would be to make some bootleg armour and weapons? If Kid Win can build himself some laser pistols and go out, I'm pretty sure that we can do a lot better.'
The Emperor chuckled in her mind as Taylor took the steps to her room three at a time, mind already buzzing with plans and options.
"WELCOME BACK, TAYLOR."
'Heh. Time to get to work.'
Newly buoyed by her new power, Taylor began testing herself again, reaching into the Immaterium. From what The Emperor theorised she had pushed herself too hard, her…Void Prison, or whatever stupid name it would inevitably be given, had been beyond her reach, drawing too deeply on the Immaterium. Normally, doing so would be fatal, but her Perpetual status and the quick medical care had saved her, and she had merely been crippled. The Emperor compared it to a sprained muscle: she would be unable to use her powers at the level she had possessed, but it would heal with time. That said, testing was required.
'So I can levitate tiny things. Still have some telekinesis, and I have the future sight. So, what, something like a low Delta level?'
"BARELY. BUT IT IS NOT ALWAYS POWER THAT MATTERS."
'Easy to say when you've always been beyond the scale. But you've made your point. I guess we'll just have to improvise and adapt. They do say that troubles build character.'
"YOU SHOULD HAVE PLENTY OF CHARACTER, THEN."
Taylor laughed.
With her plans decided and her basic testing done, she knew that she needed some way to compensate for her weakened powers, aware even at her most optimistic that she would be less than useless if she went out to fight in her current state. And so, with little else to do, she had set to thinking and planning and designing. The notebook in front of her, carefully organised with plans that were, if not impassably encrypted, more than safe from most gangs- English, translated to High Gothic, translated to Eldar, and then encrypted with a code that the Imperium had used around the time of the Horus Heresy. Maybe a Thinker could crack it, but it would take time, at the very least. And the reason those plans were encrypted was simple: they contained the instructions and designs for Imperium weapons and, more importantly, the ubiquitous solar power cell. Ubiquitous it might be in the forty-first Millennium, in the current time it would be an incredible asset, as would the weapons that it could fuel. Dangerous. Very dangerous. Very useful. And not all that hard to make. She just had to decide what to make with it and decide quickly. It had been four days since her fight with Lung, and the city was starting to doubt that she had survived. She needed to nip that speculation in the bud if she wanted to keep her momentum. At least Lung hadn't been seen either.
'I wonder why Lung hasn't been seen? You'd expect him to be out with the boys, laying down beatings and showing his power.'
"HE MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO. YOU STRUCK HIM WITH A WEAPON THAT, WHILE NOT THE EQUAL OF THE FULGURITE, WAS NOTHING TO BE SCOFFED AT."
'Not the equal of…yeah, it was a bit rushed and bootlegged. It could never have replicated the effect of the Fulgurite.' She concluded. The Fulgurite, the true weapon, had a very simple effect. It was, purely, a weapon that allowed the wielder to slay anyone she used it against, provided said target was of equal or lesser metaphysical weight, for want of a better term, to the wielder. In that case Lung should be dead. No regeneration, no medical care, nothing could save him- assuming that the Fulgurite worked. It hadn't exactly been used all that often, and even Vulkan had been rumoured to survive. Then again, Vulkan was a Primarch as well as a Perpetual. Who was to say that even a Perpetual could be considered sufficient to slay him? It was irrelevant. The point was, what she had created was not the Fulgurite. Not even a pale imitation.
'So what did I create?'
"SOMETHING QUITE INTERESTING. THE WEAPON YOU USED AGAINST LUNG WAS INFUSED WITH POWER, THE POWER OF THE IMMATERIUM. I HAVE REVIEWED MY MEMORY OF EVENTS, AND I BELIEVE THAT THE WEAPON YOU CREATED IN FACT BECAME IMBUED WITH THE POWER OF THE IMMATERIUM, LEAKING THE VERY ESSENCE OF THAT DIMENSION INTO THE AIR AROUND IT."
'Into the…but I embedded it in Lung. Which means that-'
"EVERY FRAGMENT LEFT IN HIS BODY IS CONTANTLY LEAKING ENTROPIC ENERGY, FUELLED BY HIS VERY FLESH, THE CLOSENESS OF HIS SOUL. LEFT OPEN TO THE AIR THEY WOULD SWIFTLY DECAY THEMSELVES. BUT…"
'Embedded in Lung they are constantly damaging him, forcing his regeneration to constantly work to repair the damage. That's why he isn't fighting, he's still injured!'
"INDEED. WHILE NOT INTENTIONAL, YOU CERTAINLY CREATED A FORMIDABLE WEAPON. CONGRATULATIONS."
Taylor grinned fiercely. That would be perfect. If she could return to the streets earlier than Lung, she could further cement her reputation. She knew what equipment she wanted, how to make it. She just needed the resources. And fortunately, Bakuda had known of a great many stashes, both personal and ABB. And Taylor had not neglected to tear the locations from her mind.
'Let's go hunting.'
Taylor leaned her head on her hand, resting her elbow on her knee eying the building opposite her thoughtfully. It was raining again, the raindrops pattering thickly onto the hood of the plastic anorak she had picked up to replace her coat- her poor, poor coat- and she was freezing, crouched in this bloody alleyway in this bloody weather.
Six days. Six days since she had faced down Lung, six days since she had struggled and fought and dug more deeply into her powers than she even thought possible, six days since she had last gone outside with the thought of being a hero. Three until she had found herself not as crippled as she thought, and three more of testing and experimentation and planning. But no more. She couldn't bear to wait any longer, even if she was weaker than she had ever been. Or at least, weaker than her empowered self had ever been. She didn't particularly care to think about herself before her merger with The Emperor.
That said, she would need time to recover, as she had assumed. And given the gang war that was in progress and only seemed to be getting fiercer, that was unfortunate. She had plans and schematics for equipment that would allow her to work again, but for that she needed resources. Resources that weren't easily accessible. Or at least, not safely accessible. A scrapyard might provide them, but she was certain that the gangs and Protectorate would keep a watch on those.
It was a good thing, then, that she had torn the locations of the various stashes that Bakuda and the ABB used to store her gear before reducing the Tinker to a drooling husk.
Hence the alleyway opposite the building.
The ABB- and in particular Bakuda- had left a series of caches around the city, simply as a matter of practicality and logistics- it made them easier to access for spread out gang-members and meant that all of their supplies could not be taken in one swoop. However, with Lung still not showing himself and the Empire Eighty-Eight pushing hard against them, some of those caches had to be abandoned. Which was Taylor's opportunity. There was still one man here, one caretaker: he rarely left the building, and had avoided the notice of the Empire. After all, it was just a small apartment building. Why would it ever matter? Well, it mattered to Taylor, simply because she needed the stuff stored inside. And so she was going to get it.
Unfortunately, she couldn't just batter down the door. She could still pick the lock, but that would require going down to the open street and standing hunched over the door for a while. Not stealthy. A window, however, could be the key. It all depended on the condition of the windows in question, and so Taylor crept across the street and slid into the shadows next to the house. Carefully skirting the building, she reached the back of the house, and smiled as she saw a window, large enough to admit her. It was on the second floor but set above an extension to the building that she could climb. Now she just needed to get to it without being seen. Luckily, her black clothing would blend well into the dark and rainy night, especially as she kept low. She pulled herself up onto the roof of the extension, and shuffled across to the window, grimacing at the miserable weather. It made sneaking easier but was unarguably uncomfortable. The window was closed and locked, but the key had been left in and she smiled.
'Easy, easy, easy.'
Reduced as her powers were, they were not so reduced that she couldn't turn a key. A pressure, a twist and the lock opened. Taylor licked her lips as she focused on turning the handle. It was stiff, harder to turn than she expected, but she was able to draw on enough power to turn it and let the window open.
'Maybe not as easy as I was expecting.' She mentally admitted, even as she pulled the window open as far as it would go and slithered in, squeezing through the narrow gap and for once glad of her slender and somewhat boyish frame. She landed on her stomach, ears straining for any noise from the man that she knew was in the house with her. There was nothing, and she rose to a crouch, closing her eyes and focusing. Her ability to sense people had been compromised, just as her other powers were, but it was still there. Just harder to use, and with a much lower range. Much, much lower. Before, she could sense everyone in the entire city if she tried. Now, she could manage less than a city block. That said, it wasn't a huge blow. Being able to sense the entire city wasn't exactly useful when it took almost half a minute to make a connection strong enough to identify someone by their mind. In a city with hundreds of thousands of people, searching for a single person was like looking for a needle in a stack of other, moving needles. The metaphor had gotten away from her, but the point was it was most useful for something like this. Making sure she knew where people were when she was sneaking around.
'And there he is' she thought, narrowing her field to the house and locating the single person there. Now all she had to do was knock him out without him raising an alarm. Good times.
Taylor crept down the stairs, carefully placing her feet and staying as quiet as possible. The ABB member was standing with his back to her, in the kitchen, and she crept closer. Just as she was about to strike he turned, some instinct warning him. His mouth opened, hand snapping towards his belt, and she struck. Her hand lashed out, a brutally hard backhanded blow with a clenched fist that carried the full weight of her body and sent him staggering, whatever cry might be coming from his mouth suddenly cut off. She lunged forwards, her fist hammering into his side an instant before she grabbed his head and slammed his forehead into a worktop, the hard blow leaving him utterly stunned as she rammed a heel into the back of his knee. He fell to one knee, and Taylor locked an arm under his chin, around his throat, squeezing and pulling back, ignoring his struggles, the kicking wasted on empty air and the clawing having no effect on her clothed arm. She held the choke until the man went limp, and then carefully let go and lowered him to the ground, absently checking his pulse and confirming that it was there.
'Well, that was refreshing.' She commented, straightening her jacket as she stood back to her full height and looked around, making sure that she hadn't been seen. There was a window in the kitchen itself, but it looked out onto a dark alley, no risk from there. Good. Now all she needed to do was take what she needed and get back to her new workshop.
It didn't take her long to find what she wanted. Bakuda had kept a veritable trove in one of the bedrooms, and Taylor was easily able to find the keys in the pocket of the ABB guard. She checked he was still unconscious, looted his pockets and returned to the first floor, unlocking the door and grinning as she walked in. All the things she would ever need for her building- well, not basic resources like steel and wood and so on, but that wouldn't be too hard to find. She filled a rucksack and a pair of duffel bags that she found in the house and strolled back down the stairs, her loot balanced easily on her shoulders. She used the front door to leave. There was no reason not to, after all.
Taylor had, initially, thought that the Boat Graveyard would be a good place for a workshop. However, she had then thought about it, and quickly realised that the Boat Graveyard was a hilariously poor place to hide something important. Exposed, public, almost certainly under surveillance…anything she put there would probably be stolen in record time. Which meant that she needed to find somewhere more private, more secure and, preferably, closer to home. It was extremely fortunate that the economic situation of Brockton Bay was so dire: it meant that there were plenty of abandoned houses around. And there was one at the end of her street, complete with basement. Cellar? Basement.
Regardless, she had made sure to break into the house, ensure that the place was empty and sufficiently uninviting for any squatters, and then made her way into the basement. It was fairly large, concrete walls and floor, and just perfect for her needs once she cleared out the detritus of a family that had been left in there when it was abandoned, replacing the mess with a sofa and table that she scavenged from the house and placed next to the walls, leaving plenty of space in the middle of the basement. There was even an entrance outside of the house that she was able to disguise. It was to this basement that she went with her loot, moving in the shadows and creeping in. Once there she dumped her bags, dropping the duffle bags by the sofa and emptying the rucksack onto the table. This contained the pieces she would need for her first and arguably most important project: a power cell. The ubiquitous Imperium solar cell was the result of hundreds if not thousands of years of progress, an honest to goodness miracle of science. It was lightweight. It held a charge good enough for hundreds of las-weapon shots after just a few hours in the sun. It could, in a pinch, be used as a grenade. And, most importantly, it could be created by any society that had made it to the Industrial era.
'Low tech and high usage. Whoever came up with this design was a genius.' Taylor remarked. She sensed The Emperor agree.
"TREMENDOUSLY VALUABLE IN THIS AGE. ALTHOUGH, IF YOU WANT TO POWER ANYTHING LARGER THAN A LASRIFLE IT MIGHT NOT SUFFICE."
'We might be able to up-scale it enough to power some rudimentary armour. For a brief while, at least, something like a Hellfire rifle power pack. But actual powered armour…that will need real microfusion generators. Those are probably out of reach at the moment- I don't think I can achieve cold fusion in a basement.'
"PROBABLY NOT, NO."
'Don't suppose it matters. I'm just going for some basic armour, carapace style. I wonder if I can patent the power cells? It'd be nice to be rich.'
Even as Taylor held her conversation with The Emperor she sorted through the mess of components on the table, carefully plucking out pieces that she needed and inspecting them with a critical eye. The power cell that she was going to build would probably not be of the highest quality, the components themselves were not perfect, but it would be more than adequate as a power source. And with a power source she could build machines, machines that she could use to build more tools. Which she could then use to build better equipment. Which she could then- well, it would allow her to build her equipment base. That was enough to say.
"IF YOU ARE BUILDING ARMOUR, ESPECIALLY CARAPACE OR FLAK ARMOUR, IT MIGHT BE A GOOD IDEA TO INVESTIGATE IF YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CRAFT AND EMPOWER RUNES. A SET OF FLAK AROUR THAT IS REINFORCED WITH THE PROPER RUNES CAN BE HUGELY BOOSTED IN EFFICACY." The Emperor suggested. Taylor paused, her hands hovering briefly in the air as she considered.
'Yes. I hadn't thought of that, but it's a good idea. I'll try once I have this cell built.'
That said, Taylor turned her attention back to the cell. It might take a while to build one of these by hand, but the payoff would certainly be worth it.
Once the power cell was finished -well, power cells, she knew she would need more than one and she had been able to find enough components to build three- Taylor carefully made her way back into the house itself, finding a window that was in full sunlight and leaving the cells there, carefully hidden from view while still able to charge. Well, it wouldn't charge at the moment, it was dark, but once the sun came up it would charge. And she supposed that there would be some charging from the moonlight, but it would be minimal at best. Still, she could only wait. That done, she returned to the basement, considering. Her plan for building her armour was simple: first, she needed the raw materials. She had plans already, for a converter that could take raw materials- brick, iron, plastic whatever, and convert it into sheets of ceramite or plasteel…but, unfortunately, that particular set of plans was more of a factory than a printer. And she did not have access to a factory. She needed a furnace, she needed a press, she needed a bloody city-sized industrial base to get it to work.
Taylor was beginning to wonder if it was too late to simply declare herself Empress of All Mankind and take over the world. Unhappily, she suspected that it would be rather harder for her to manage than it had been for the Emperor. After all, Earth still had functioning governments.
"YOU COULD USE A RUNE OF FIRE TO ACT AS A FURNACE, PERHAPS." The Emperor suggested.
'You think that would work?'
"NOT AS EFFECTIVELY. BUT BETTER THAN ANY OTHER CHOICE."
'Well that's true. What about making the plasteel and ceramite into plates? A mould?'
"THAT WOULD BE MY CHOICE."
'I still don't know if I can actually empower runes.'
"YOU HAD BEST TEST IT, THEN."
Taylor cast about herself, eventually slipping up into the house to look. Once in the house she found a piece of wood- a plank, broken part way down and abandoned. She carried it back down into the cellar, snapping it in half over her knee and laying it onto the table. One half she ignored, putting it to one side, while she pulled a knife from her pocket and began to work on the other one, carving runes of strengthening from memory.
'Can you let me work on this alone?' she asked. The Emperor stirred.
"IF YOU WISH. WHY, THOUGH?"
Taylor sighed.
'Because I want to know that I can do it myself. That I don't need your help, that even if you left I would be able to manage.'
The Emperor said nothing, but she felt his agreement as she resumed work. It took a while, but she had nothing else to do and the carving was soothing, in a way. Once finished she checked her watch, blinking as she saw that it was almost midnight, although she didn't feel tired. An advantage of needing gradually less sleep- she was down to four hours a night being enough now. She did still like to sleep though, so she would test her runes and then leave it for the night. Taylor stood, taking each half of the plank in one hand. The testing was going to be easy. She let the rune-carved stick rest next to the table, while she gripped the other in both hands and swung at the wall with all her strength.
The stick shattered. Wood fragments flew, Taylor ducking a few pieces.
'Well, that was expected. Now to try the other.'
She had considered attempting to break the wood over her knee, but a moment of thought brought up the obvious problem with that- if it had worked, and the wood was unnaturally hardened, it would hurt. The wall had no such problems. Taylor licked her lips, hoping that she had gotten it right as she gripped the rune-carved stick in both hands. She eyed the scrape of wood left on the wall from the other stick and swung. The wood crashed into the concrete with a dull thud, staying intact in her hand. Heart suddenly beating faster, Taylor turned it towards her. Intact. Undamaged. She turned back, knowing better than two assume. Another blow. Two, three and Taylor barely repressed an urge to whoop aloud as the wood held up, a mere dent flattening the end the only signs of the heavy concrete. She spun the wood in her hand, her grin flattening to a smile that was almost predatory.
Well, I'd say that worked. Maybe that rune idea isn't so crazy after all.'
The rune idea was not crazy as all. It had taken three more days, a lot of cursing, significant trial and error and two entire repeats of her rune work, but she had managed it. She had built a rune powered forge, she had collected the necessary ingredients, she had built herself a mould and now she was waiting, just waiting for her prototype breastplate to set. She had moulded the plates, filed them down, made the glue that would hold them together- she had done that in the house, the glue smelled horrible- and now she waited for the glue to dry. Then, she could test her fully made breastplate. If it worked she could move on to her second version. If it didn't back to the drawing board. As she waited she worked upon another piece of her armour, a weapon this time- her powers hadn't miraculously returned over three days, so she had taken apart a couple of tasers and was building a crude pseudo-power fist. The Mechanicum would have been outraged by the crudity and inherent sacrilege of it. The thought made her smile.
'I'll have to test this as well. I can test them both at the same time, at least.'
"THE GAUNTLET SHOULD WORK. THE ONLY PROBLEM MIGHT BE THE POWER CELLS, IF THEY'RE PUSHED TOO HARD."
'Which is why I want to test it. Having the power pack explode the first time I push the glove to it's limits would be bad.'
"WELL, THAT'S TRUE."
Taylor was fairly sure that she had managed to alter the cells enough that a failure would be much less explosive, only having the force of one overloaded cell. However, with solar cells that was the difference between enough explosive force to destroy a tank and a hand grenade, and Taylor wasn't overly eager to strap it to her back and go out. Testing was needed.
The small alarm clock she had scavenged and repaired pinged. Taylor stood, slinging her glove and power pack into a rucksack.
'Just in time. I was starting to get bored.'
Three days ago, Taylor had come to the conclusion that the Boat Graveyard was an awful place for a lair or workshop. She still stuck to that assessment, but it had merits in one way: it would be an excellent place to test her equipment. All she had to do was find a nice, out of the way boat that was in decent condition. There was no shortage of those.
Taylor set herself up in the hold of a fairly small cargo ship, tilted over and half flooded. She checked that there was nobody nearby, straining her powers to cover the whole graveyard. There were plenty of people in the graveyard itself, but none nearby. That didn't discount cameras, but at least it meant that she was unlikely to be attacked. That done, she unloaded her glove and the roughly shaped breastplate that she had made, hanging the plate on the wall and leaving the glove and pack on the floor. Taylor had three tests planned for the breastplate: the first would be the gun that she had taken off a gang member, so many weeks ago. A nine millimetre pistol. Something reasonably common among the gangs. Well, more common than other guns. Most gang members just used baseball bats or pipes or whatever. Still…Taylor took several paces away from the breastplate and the wall. She fired every bullet in the gun, wincing slightly at each booming shot. Once she was done she laid the gun down and walked back across to the plate.
'Moment of truth.'
If the plate hadn't held up, it would be back to the drawing board for her armour. She leaned down and picked up the plate, her eyes searching across it. A smile broke across her face, and she turned the plate over and smacked the back of it. Metal jingled as the flattened bullets fell out, and she pressed a finger into the holes left behind.
'One layer pierced. Barely even anything.'
"IT WOULD STILL HURT IF YOU WERE WEARING IT."
'Hurt but not dead. I'd call that a success. Test two, then.'
The second test, melee. Most gang members- and most capes, come to think of it- preferred to attack with a close weapon. A bat, a lead pipe, a crowbar, whatever. Taylor walked across, her step buoyed by the first success of her armour and swept a crowbar into her fingers. She turned on her heel, a spinning motion a moment before she crossed the space in a springing leap and brought the crowbar down as hard as she could.
In hindsight, that might have been a mistake.
The crowbar was old and rusty, and the impact was far too much for it. Taylor yelped and jerked back as it broke, splinters of metal flying towards her. She threw the broken end of the crowbar away, growling under her breath, but her smile returned as she looked at the breastplate again. There was a dent in the middle, just where she had struck, but the plate was intact. Damaged, but whole. Her prototype was a success, and now that she had proof that it worked she could repeat the process to make a better version. It wouldn't even take as long. Now to test the power glove and get out of here.
The glove itself was a bare-bone thing, more a frame than anything else, but it sat comfortably over her hand. In her eventual design she intended to run the power cord under her gauntlet and vambrace, up her arm to the shoulder and down her back, to the flat power pack. In this early, testing design she ran the cord to the power pack, but placed the pack away from her, just in case.
'Alright. Lowest setting, test.'
At the lowest setting the glove was barely a weapon. It would deliver a stinging shock, but nothing more. Still, best to test low and increase as she went. She balled her hand into a fist and lightly struck the wall, eliciting a deep buzz from the glove.
'Success?'
"HARD TO TELL WITHOUT A TARGET. BUT I THINK IT WAS, YES."
'Alright. Time to go to the next level.'
The levels of the glove were controlled by a dial, just by her wrist. Taylor had initially assumed that she would have to control it by hand, but she had come to the conclusion that she might be able to use her much-weakened telekinesis for it. Usually she used hand gestures to aid her, but there was no actual reason to. It was just habit. Frowning, she tilted her arm until she could see the dial and concentrated.
The dial turned. This time, Taylor did whoop, although she immediately clamped a hand over her mouth in mortified embarrassment.
'Oops.'
The Emperor was laughing, the dick, but she ignored him. It was a success. She was allowed to be thrilled by things like that. She flexed her hand, ignoring the Emperor, and struck the wall again. The hit this time was far more noticeable, a sparking line of electricity flicking over the metal in a sudden, flashing display.
'That was even better. Definitely a knockout blow. At least, a knockout blow.'
Taylor looked at the glove again and twisted the dial as far as it would go, her eyes widening as the glove began to hum, a field of translucent energy forming around the gauntlet alongside vibrations that she could feel in the very bones. She glanced at the breastplate and nodded to herself. One last test.
She swung.
Her fist went through the breastplate and tore into the wall with a thunderous boom. Taylor jerked back, swearing loudly as the steel of the ship simply blew apart, torn savagely asunder by the field of energy.
'Oh.' She said, numbly.
"DID YOU FORGET THAT A POWER FIST IS AN ANTI-TANK WEAPON?" The Emperor asked, sounding somewhere between baffled and concerned. Taylor shook her head, a smile starting to crawl across her features.
'Oh. Oh, no, I didn't. Just wasn't sure that I could do that with this version. Heh. Looks like I'm back to heavy hitting, baby.'
Taylor imagined Hookwolf or Lung being on the receiving end of a blow like that, and her smile grew. Even if she had to leave in a hurry thanks to the lightshow that last blow had put on, she could consider this test a stunning success.
The time had come. The gang war was still in progress, Lung still in hiding, she couldn't wait any longer. She was prepared as much as she could be and she needed to return. She was still in contact with Glory Girl. The member of New Wave was patrolling as much as possible, but with the numbers that the gangs had New Wave and the Protectorate were overwhelmed. Taylor wasn't quite so vain as to think that she could end the fighting single-handedly, but she could make a difference. And so she would.
Taylor carefully armoured herself, not rushing. This, the first version of her flak armour- after the prototype that she had destroyed with her power gauntlet- was relatively simple and low in protection, but it would certainly help. The breast and backplate, layered ceramite and armaplas and moulded to a flat form, covering her from shoulder to waist, every plate painstakingly engraved with runes of protection to make them far more effective as armour. The plates were held together by a buckled strap on each shoulder, one under the armpit and one just above the waist, allowing her to adjust it to be secure and comfortable. She took her time doing so before moving on. The greaves were next, two overlapping plates that Ran from ankle to just below the knee, a moulded kneeguard omitted in this variation in order to allow faster manufacture. She would have one in her second version. And the last, her vambraces, a single curved plate that covered the outside and sides of her forearms, an extension covering her hand to the fingers. Held by straps again, they left her underarm open but that was less concerning. The armoured gloves completed the ensemble, both hands somewhat bulky to accommodate the power gauntlets, the power wires from them running up her arms and down the back of her chest carapace, eventually meeting a solar battery built into her small backpack, itself also armoured. It was a little heavy, but nothing too severe.
She swung her coat on over all of it, a new garment that she had picked up from a small store in the city. Similar to her old coat, it fell to her knees and would have a double row of buttons should she close it. She didn't, leaving the carefully painted eagle on the breastplate showing. The high collar of the coat was drawn up around her face.
And speaking of her face…Taylor looked thoughtfully at the helmet she had crafted. Blank, almost knightly in form, it held a subtle intimidation. Taylor picked it up and carefully settled it over her face, turning her head and rolling her neck to ensure it wasn't too restrictive. It was sufficient, she concluded as she reached back, under her coat, and pulled her hood up. The hood was still fastened to the jumper she wore under her armour, but she might remove it. Something to decide in time: she had work to do. She might look very different to before, but Circaetus had returned. Time to get back to making her mark.
The first thing Taylor did after leaving her house was begin moving, heading towards the area of the city where she knew Glory Girl was currently patrolling. She was entirely capable of looking after herself still, but she would prefer to have some backup now that her powers were so limited: Glory was patrolling the Merchant edge of the Empire territory anyway, she would probably be glad to have company. Taylor would be pleased to help, especially if it meant getting to beat on Empire goons and-slash-or Capes. Everybody won. Except the Empire and Merchants. They didn't matter anyway.
It was a long walk, though. Taylor was missing her ability to float now. Maybe she could build a jetpack or something? There wasn't any promethium to fuel it here, but she might be able to synthesise something. If…she had a factory and a fully stocked laboratory. Alright. She needed to find a way to make money. People would buy her solar cells, right? Maybe she should look into that. But before that, she had a patrol to run and, hopefully, criminals to beat up. Hand to hand, too, no powers…which might be a problem. She might have to be a bit more careful than usual.
"CAUTION? THAT WILL BE A FIRST."
'Oh, very funny. Although…you aren't wrong. I was just going in head first, wasn't I? Looking back, I've been kind of reckless.'
"KIND OF SEEMS LIKE A BIT OF AN UNDERSTATEMENT."
'Well, you aren't wrong I suppose. Odd…why do I suddenly feel more cautious? I know my powers are different now, but could they really have affected me?'
There was a long pause, thick with concern.
"I WOULD NOT HAVE THOUGHT SO." The Emperor eventually said, although there was a hint of something in the voice that was becoming steadily less monotone, some uncertainty.
"I NEVER BECAME AWARE OF SUCH A THING. I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT MERELY HAVING PSYKER POWERS IS ENOUGH TO CHANGE A PERSONS PERSONALITY."
'And yet, only three of the known human psykers of A-class and above are- or were, I suppose- sane.'
"BUT YOUR POWERS ARE THE SAME AS MINE, YOU HAVE NOT DEMONSTRATED THE INSANITY OF THE OTHERS AND THE IMMATERIUM IS STILL PLACID. THE WARP DROVE POWERFUL HUMAN PSYKERS MAD, NOT THE POWERS THEMSELVES. NO, IT MUST BE SOMETHING ELSE."
'Like a power trip from being able to fling cars around and flatten buildings if it really came to it?'
"I SUPPOSE SO. PERHAPS, YES. AND YOU ONLY NOTICED IT AFTER LOSING MOST OF THOSE POWERS, EVEN IF ONLY TEMPORARILY."
'You don't sound entirely convinced.'
"AS A SOLUTION IT IS ELEGANT, BUT PERHAPS TOO ELEGANT. THE ONLY THING WE CAN DO IS ATTEMPT TO KEEP TRACK OF IT, HOWEVER, AND ENSURE THAT WE DO NOT SLIP BACK INTO THAT ARROGANCE."
'Easier said than done. Maybe we should see a therapist or something.'
Taylor shook herself. She could mope and re-examine her life later. And quite besides that, she was getting into actively contested gang territory. Getting distracted here was not a good idea.
Taylor wasn't certain how active this area was in terms of crime and violence. It was on the border between two gangs, yes, but even then she doubted there would be many open battles in the streets. After all, if they caused too much trouble the greater Protectorate would surely do something. Even if the Protectorate seemed oddly reluctant to commit more resources to Brockton Bay, there was presumably a limit to that tolerance. Still, this was on the border between the Merchants and the Empire, so she probably had a good chance of finding some action. Maybe she should just wander down the streets and hope that she was lucky? She couldn't exactly go roof-hopping like she had before.
"You know, if you're trying to make that look work you need to be a lot more decisive."
Taylor smiled underneath her helmet, slowly turning.
"Decisive?"
"Yeah. Y'know, committed. Walking with conviction and stuff. You look like you've no idea where you're going."
"Really? Well, that's a disappointment. I'd hoped that I wasn't all that different."
Taylor turned and tilted her head up, looking at the white-clad figure hovering just above her.
"Do you really think I look that different, Glory?"
Glory Girl shifted in mid-air, as though taken aback.
"Glory? Wait, that's- holy crap. Circ?"
The heroine descended rapidly, drawing closer. Taylor spread her hands in a cheery gesture.
"Yep. You like the new look?"
Glory Girl landed in front of Taylor, one hand flicking out and poking her breastplate.
"Lookin' good, Circ. You sure you should be out here though, even with that gear?"
Taylor snorted.
"Glory. Please. You think I'm gonna say no? I'm here. I'm back. And I'm even wearing black."
Glory Girl laughed, briefly leaving the ground again.
"Nice to see your sense of humour hasn't changed. It's good to have you back."
Taylor laughed quietly.
"It's only been a week, Glory."
"Well, yeah, but it's been a long week. So, we done with the mushy reunion? 'Cause fun as it is, there are bad guys somewhere. You want to go beat them up?"
"Glory. Glory, Glory, Glory. I thought you'd never ask."
"So we got Merchants, with Mush as muscle, and Empire, with no capes. How do you want to handle this, Circ?"
Glory Girl was speaking quietly, as they crouched on a rooftop and surveyed the standoff. Taylor eyed the two groups and the layout of the street thoughtfully.
"Well," she said, her voice also quiet but considering, "It'd be best if we can take them down quickly and quietly. I can't hit as hard as before, but I can still take any of them down. I'm thinking that if you can get their attention, I can slide down and drop the Empire goons. Then we can stand off the Merchants or take them down, whatever they decide."
"Sounds good." Glory muttered, before lifting off, flying overhead until she was opposite Taylor. Taylor herself turned, sliding down the side of the building by utilising a drainpipe as an impromptu pole. She hid herself in the alleyway and signalled to Glory that she was ready. The New Wave heroine promptly dropped from the sky, landing with a thump.
"Well, well, well. Whatever is going on here?"
It wasn't exactly subtle, but a subtle distraction was probably something of an oxymoron. Taylor left the alleyway, creeping up behind the Empire goons as they turned and stared at Glory. Six Empire, five Merchants, including Mush. A small skirmish, shouldn't be too hard to break up. Hopefully.
Taylor let her power turn the dials on her gauntlets, moving them to the point that they would deliver something like a taser worth of electricity. That would be more than enough for the goons. She might need to turn it up for Mush, but she would deal with that when the time came.
She moved quietly and quickly, lining up her targets from behind. This would be quick, very quick. She stepped forwards, crossing the distance in three swift strides. The two goons on the leftmost side were first, a single blow to each of them sending them spasming down. A turn, a strike, that was three. A step. Her hand came down on the shoulder of the fourth, her other fist driving into the fifth. She threw the man she was holding away, turned, hand came up. Caught the punch, held it for a moment as the man jerked and jolted before letting go and dropping him.
She turned to the Merchants.
"Hey."
The Merchants stared, in shock and slowly dawning horror. Taylor raised an eyebrow behind her mask. She didn't usually get this kind of reaction.
"Y'know, you can run if you want to. I can't really be bothered to chase a bunch of low-lives." She said, throwing in the last as a little taunt. Maybe it would make them attack. Maybe they would run. Didn't really matter. Mush raised a hand, pointing at her.
"Y-you!"
He was actually stuttering. How amusing. Taylor spread her hands, attempting to look magnanimous.
"Me, yes. What of it?"
"You- you're supposed to be dead!"
"Am I?" she inquired, looking down at herself. She shrugged.
"Well, I can tell you- and believe me, I've been waiting a long time to use this line- rumours of my death are greatly exaggerated."
Taylor could feel the incredulity from the Merchants before her, as well as the fear from the goons and the swelling anger from Mush. At least she was close enough for her passive emotion reading to be active. It was straining to activate it now. Of course, the last time she had tangled with Mush Skidmark had been present and they had shown a surprising amount of tactical thought. She wondered if Mush had contributed anything, or if it was all Skidmark.
Mush roared in anger and charged, one fist drawing back. Clearly Skidmark was the brains- in as much as the Merchants had brains. Taylor stepped forward, tilting her head and swinging her body under the massive arm, slamming her own fists into Mush in two rapid blows before darting away. She had hoped that the electricity would surge through him and knock him out, but his golem must mostly be made of non-conductive materials and the charge dispersed. Still gave him a nasty shock though, if his yelping shout was anything to go by. He kept swinging, blind savagery in place of skill, and Taylor ducked away, stepping away from him.
"Glory!" she shouted. A moment later Glory Girl descended from her position, crashing into Mush and knocking him away. Taylor herself turned to the Merchant thugs, but they were already running. She ignored them, spinning back to the brawl in progress. Glory clearly had the upper hand, but it would be faster if Taylor helped. She spun her gauntlets to a higher setting and was about to leap in when her caution returned.
'Rash. Again.'
No time to berate herself, though. She couldn't jump in with her gauntlets on such a high setting, they were at a level suitable for anti-tank work. Mush would be reduced to…well, mush. But she had to do something. Just something a little less extreme.
Taylor narrowed her eyes, looking at the way Mush was swinging. It was wild, undisciplined, sloppy. There would be an opportunity, she just needed to-
She saw her chance.
She kicked off, sprinting forwards. She might only get one chance at this, but one chance was all she needed. She leapt, hands reaching as Mush staggered back from Glory Girl, driving her hands deep into his messy, disgusting armour. Her gauntlets closed onto flesh, and Mush jolted with a howl as electricity surged through him. Taylor grinned savagely, her insulated armour and clothing protecting her. In theory, she should now bring her legs up, kick off Mush into a backflip and land agilely on her feet.
Fully aware that she would probably smack into a wall or fumble the landing, Taylor shoved herself away with her hands and hopped out of the way as Mush collapsed, his garbage armour flaking away. Taylor intended to finish off her win by nonchalantly brushing her gloves off and a smart remark, but she made the mistake of looking at her hands.
"Well, that was…oh. Ew. Oh, this is disgusting." Taylor whined shaking her hands in disgust. Bits of dirt, rotting fruit and vegetable skins, all sorts of refuse that she honestly didn't want to consider. Taylor shook her hands away from her, hastily trying to clean off her gloves and the sleeves of her coat. Her coat had better not be ruined.
"HOW IS IT THAT YOU ARE WILLING TO RAM YOUR FIST THROUGH ONI LEE OR LUNG, BUT QUAIL AT THE SIGHT OF SOME ROTTEN FRUIT?" The Emperor inquired mildly. Taylor finally managed to suppress her reflexive shuddering.
'I'm just quirky like that.'
"I WASN'T AWARE THAT QUIRKY HAD BECOME SYNONYMOUS WITH INSANE."
'Oh, very witty. You spend long thinking that up?'
"ENVY DOES NOT BECOME YOU, TAYLOR."
'Hmph.'
Taylor finished brushing off her hands, looking up to see that Glory Girl had already dragged Mush away from the remains of his armour and was leaning him against the wall.
"Why aren't you stained as well?" Taylor asked, mildly dismayed by it. Glory Girl gave her a dazzling smile.
"Part of my powers!" she responded cheerily. Taylor sighed.
"Some people get all the luck."
"You mean the people that get amazing telekinetic powers, got a dozen rounds with one of the most feared villains in the city and then come back with what looks a whole lot like a Tinker ability?"
"Touché."
Glory Girl reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone as Taylor stepped across the open space and leaned down to check on Mush. He was fine, as she had thought, shocked into unconsciousness but not really hurt. A good thing too. Her gauntlets were basically a taser at low settings, but sometimes even tasers could kill. A weak heart could easily give way.
"Protectorate are on their way. They shouldn't be too long." Glory Girl reported, tucking her phone away and turning back to Taylor. Taylor nodded silently, turning her gloves to their lowest possible setting with a twist of her mind and leaning against the wall. She closed her eyes, pressing her powers out around her until the faint edge of a headache tingled in her skull, testing the limits of her senses.
About two blocks. Better than it had been, but not much. Powers that were more passive were coming back faster than her telekinesis or anything else big, though. That was interesting.
Taylor opened her eyes again as Glory Girl drew closer.
"So, what's with the new armour?" she asked. Taylor offered her a shrug.
"I thought it was better than trying to block knives and bullets with my bones." She offered dryly, getting a laugh from Glory.
"I like it. Kinda knightly, I guess? Or the helmet, anyway. The rest is kinda PRT or SWAT team."
"You think so? I guess that's not too bad. So long as I don't look ridiculous."
"Oh, yeah. That's definitely the most important part of any costume." Glory said, smiling. Taylor chuckled softly, smiling behind her helmet as she leaned back and made small talk, passing the time with her friend until the Protectorate arrived.
Taylor was pleased to see that the Protectorate response team was both quick to arrive and composed of heroes who were, at least in her opinion, sympathetic to her. The white clad hero Assault gave her a nod and a wave before bending to restrain and check Mush, while the other came towards her. Tall and clad in vaguely Greek looking armour, Dauntless raised a hand as he approached with boots clicking on the ground.
"Glory Girl."
A brief pause as he looked at Taylor, quite clearly assessing her new armour.
"Circaetus. Nice helmet."
Taylor found herself caught between a laugh and a sigh.
"Is this going to become a common thing?" she asked dourly. Glory glanced at her and shrugged.
"Maybe. Are you going to keep the helmet? It's a bit of a change from the whole hood and scarf thing you had going on before."
"I…I guess. But it's a lot more protective." Taylor protested mildly. Plus- although she didn't mention this out loud- it was a lot easier to build additions into a helmet. Targeting devices, communicators, scanners, whatever she could think of, it was a much easier base to work with than a visor. Or a monocle. Or a pair of spectacles. But she didn't say it out loud. She thought Dauntless might be on her side- such as it was- but better to downplay her abilities. She didn't really want anybody thinking she was the next coming of Dragon or something. Not until she had enough tech built to put down anyone who might get uppity.
Was it still paranoia if they really were out to get you?
"It definitely is more protective." Dauntless said cheerfully.
"Maybe a little bit faceless stormtrooper, with the whole entire face covering thing, but I can appreciate a good helmet."
Taylor considered that before shrugging.
"I can deal with that if it means I'm safe from getting a mouthful of shrapnel." She decided. Dauntless laughed.
"How optimistic." He said, clearly amused. Taylor waved her hand airily.
"So, are you just here to admire my new armour? Or is there another reason that you came to talk to us?"
Dauntless clicked his tongue and leaned against a wall.
"Well, I wanted to get the full story of what happened with Mush. You mind telling me?"
Taylor exchanged a glance with Glory Girl and shrugged. It didn't really take long to recount what had happened, and when it was done Dauntless let out a soft whistle.
"First day back and you take down a Merchant, Circaetus? Are you trying to make enemies of every gang in Brockton?"
Taylor squirmed inwardly but forced herself to answer nonchalantly.
"Well, supposedly you can judge a person by the quality of their enemies. I thought that maybe quantity would be good enough."
There was something suspicious in the way Dauntless eyed her, but then he laughed again, clearly deciding to wave it off. Taylor relaxed a fraction.
"Good to see that you've got ambition." He said. He gave a brief glance around before speaking again, lowering his voice.
"Honestly, I wanted to speak to you, see if you were ok. I know you did a hell of a lot better against Lung than anyone expected, but you took a hell of a beating."
Taylor didn't say anything for a moment, a brief effort of will containing the hitch in her breath as she remembered the awful, awful moment her powers had failed her and the dreary days afterwards. She suspected it would haunt her for a while. But that didn't matter.
"I'm…yeah, I'm fine. It wasn't the smartest move I've ever made, but I was never going to do anything different." She admitted quietly. Dauntless gave her a brief nod. When next he spoke, his voice was almost hesitant.
"We- the Protectorate, I mean…I shouldn't really be saying this, but feelings are split. None of us thing what you did was wrong- God knows that Lung needed to be taken down a peg or two- but some people think you were reckless. Dangerous. They're worried about what you did before, with Oni Lee and the Empire."
Taylor didn't move, her mask staying level. If they were unmasked, they would be locking eyes, but this poor facsimile would have to do.
"Do you think I'm dangerous? Like Shadow Stalker?" she asked carefully. The answer, this answer, was very important. Gravely important. Because if he said yes, what would she do? She would be damned before she joined the Protectorate, before she submitted herself to the dictates of lesser- of bureaucrats. Of paper pushers who would drown her power and her hopes in a tide of public relation and stifling safety.
Dauntless answered eventually.
"No. I don't. I think you got angry, and I think that happens to everyone sometimes. Just keep it under control. And- be careful, Circaetus. You've hurt the ABB badly. There are plenty of scavengers around who might take advantage of that. The Teeth, for example? After all, they were born here."
Taylor narrowed her eyes but made the effort to stay light hearted.
"Teethed, you could almost say?"
Another hearty laugh and then Dauntless was saying goodbye and walking towards Assault. Taylor turned towards Glory, who was looking thoughtful.
"Well, that was something. Want to continue the patrol?" she asked. Glory blinked, apparently snapped from her thoughts.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure. Come on- you want a lift?"
The rest of patrol was uneventful, but Taylor's mind whirled the whole way through.
Research. Taylor hated research. Primarily, yes, because her computer was old and her internet connection dire, but still. It was unpleasant. And reading about the Teeth and their leader was even more unpleasant.
'The Butcher. Cape villain who is reborn every time they are killed…into their killer. With every power any Butcher ever possessed- though admittedly watered down.'
"A FEARSOME FOE. MORE THAN FEARSOME. IT REMINDS ME SOMEWHAT OF…THE CHAOS CHAMPION, LUCIUS."
Taylor received enough transferred memory to identify Lucius the Eternal and his powers and shuddered. She could quite happily have gone without that.
'The similarity is alarming. But what can we do about it?'
"I AM UNSURE. IF THE BUTCHER REQUIRES SOME FORM OF MENTAL BATTLE, I HAVE CONFIDENCE THAT WE COULD CRUSH THE SHADES OF IT AND OURGE IT FROM EXISTENCE. BUT IF NOT THEN…I DO NOT KNOW."
'And besides, there's the other mechanics of it. It must transfer through the parasite shards somehow if it only affects Parahumans. But we aren't a parahuman, not really. Are we?'
"I DON'T BELIEVE WE ARE A PARAHUMAN, TECHNICALLY. BUT THE SHARD THAT I USED TO JOIN WITH YOU- I AM UNCERTAIN WHETHER IT WAS DESTROYED. I BELIEVE IT WAS, BUT IT IS NOT A CHANCE I WOULD LIKE TO TAKE."
Taylor huffed irritably.
'Well, that's reassuring.' She commented. She thought for a few minutes, considering. She was actually reasonably certain that she had become a Parahuman, if only briefly: she had developed the Corona Genma that apparently marked a Parahuman. But Panacea had said that it was shrinking, so- so maybe the Emperor had destroyed it and she was slowly reverting to human normal brain structure? Impossible to say. Which meant that just up and killing the Butcher was out. Besides, what if the Butcher simply transferred to the nearest Parahuman when killed? If that was the case then even killing it as a non-Parahuman would be an exercise in futility- and worse, make the Butcher stronger. Maybe some kind of imprisonment?
'But how do I go about it? The Butcher regenerates, according to the information online- not much information, but still. Regeneration and teleportation isn't exactly conducive to easy imprisonment.'
"HMM. MAYBE SOME KIND OF STASIS OR TIME TRAP? SURELY THERE IS SOME TINKER WHO COULD MAKE SUCH A THING. GIVEN TIME, IN FACT, WE MAY BE ABLE TO CONSTRUCT SUCH A THING. A VORTEX GRENADE DERIVATIVE, PERHAPS."
Taylor thought about it for a short while, then gave a mirthless, near silent laugh.
'Some Tinker. Oh yeah, there was some Tinker who could do that alright. Bakuda. Bakuda built those bloody time grenades. And now she's good for nothing but drooling onto herself.'
For a brief moment Taylor wanted to swear and throw things at the sheer, bloody obtuseness of the world, but she got herself under control. Swearing and throwing things wasn't productive. In fact, given that she was in her room and her Dad was asleep not far away, it might actually be unproductive.
"SHE IS USELESS NOW, BUT SHE DID NOT USE ALL OF HER GRENADES AND NEITHER DID WE. IF WE CAN LOCATE A CACHE WE MAY BE ABLE TO DEAL WITH THE BUTCHER. FOR A WHILE, AT LEAST."
'Yeah, there's no way of knowing how long the distortion effect will last. I guess we had better keep working on our own weapons, in that case. Maybe, if my powers come back, I can trap the Butcher in the Warp? Or…I don't know.'
Taylor sighed, shutting down her computer and glancing at the clock. Twelve o'clock. Still early, by her new standards of only needing a few hours' sleep a night.
'Well, there's still things to do. To the lair we go.'
Taylor's lair, workshop, whatever you wanted to call it, was scattered with bits and pieces as she worked. She had managed to build her power cells. Her power cells had led to better power cells, which had led to her production machines, which had led to her armour. Fine. Job done, she had moved on to something rather more complicated.
Armour was fine, but rune encrusted power armour was a gamechanger.
The Imperium had, in the main, been focused upon large scale efficiency in war. The Titans and vehicles and ships had been far more important than the Guardsmen who could always be replaced, and so those Guardsmen had been equipped on the basis of providing the best protection in the shortest time. Hence, the flak armour or carapace armour, instead of power armour.
Of course, there was probably an argument that the Guard would have been made immensely more effective with power armour. Even the Sisters of Battle had been effective in power armour, and they had been fanatics whose idea of tactics was to charge blindly and set everything on fire.
In fairness, that description could broadly be applied to Vulkan. But Vulkan was a Perpetual Primarch. You could probably drop him in an erupting volcano and he would only be mildly aggravated.
Moving on from the Primarchs and their bizarre abilities and personalities…
Making Imperium- Fortieth Millennium, Mark Seven power armour- was out of the question. The microfusion cells needed to fuel the mighty suits were far too advanced for Taylor to create with her current resources, and she wouldn't be able to get those resources without money or backing- in that vein, she was considering patenting her solar cells and getting someone to market them. Armsmaster maybe? Who knew. The point was, she couldn't build microfusion cells- yet.
However, that did not mean that power armour was impossible. In theory, she might be able to link together enough solar power cells that, provided she stripped down the features enough, she would be able to create something like power armour. It would not be nearly as effective as the MK VII or MK VIII, but something like a very basic Crusade pattern armour might be possible. The lack of neural connecters would be a problem though, as would the insufficient materials. Taylor was able to create ceramite or plasteel but adamantium was out of the question and the muscle fibres that made the armour so effective would be of vastly inferior quality to what she would like.
Still, a design based upon a stripped-down Maximus MK IV pattern, fuelled by banked solar cells and constructed of steel and her approximation of ceramite and plasteel would certainly be useful, allowing her to become a juggernaut on the field for at least a small time. After all, the Sisters of Battle had definitely inferior power armour to Space Marines, missing the Black Carapace and the vast size, but they were certainly deadly. And Taylor was becoming more and more superhuman as time went on, which would compensate. And the heavier build of the armour would allow heavier weapons. She doubted she would be turning up to an Endbringer fight in Terminator armour and toting a Plasma Cannon anytime soon, but she could put together something. Which was why she was currently working- carefully working- on a muscle fibre that would be integrated into the right leg of the armour frame that leaned gaunt and skeletal against a wall.
Still, it was slow work and Taylor couldn't help but grumble a little to the Emperor.
'I can't help but think that things would be much easier if I had gotten the entirety of your power from the start. I could have torn a hole in existence big enough to reach the parasite, hit it with a solar system and then spent my time doing what you did for however long it took you before you decided to become, well, Emperor.' She noted gloomily, even as her fingers carefully worked. The Emperor replied in a tone that ignored her gloom.
"APPROXIMATELY THIRTY-EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS. AND, IN MY DEFENCE, HUMANITY THRIVED IN THOSE YEARS. FOR ALL THE WAR AND DESTRUCTION, IT TOOK ONLY A LITTLE NUDGING TO PUSH THEM TOWARDS A SOCIETY SO GREAT THAT MY IMPERIUM NEVER MANAGED TO REPLICATE IT, EVEN IN ITS GOLDEN YEARS."
'Yeah. Bit of a pity that the Eldar managed to birth a Dark God and ruin everything.'
"SOMETHING OF A SHAME, YES."
Taylor let out a brief, soft snort of amusement at the dry admittance before devoting her attention to her work, letting the back of her mind work on the issue of the Butcher. There was a solution, she knew. She just had to find it.
And lo, finally a new chapter. Not that much happened in this one, but hopefully it offers some explanations and sets up some future stuff.
And yes, runes are a thing in 40k. Mainly Eldar I think, but given that the Emperor wields a weapon referred to as a Runesword- and it burns with eternal flame- I kind of assumed he knew what he was doing.
In addition- just thought I'd clear something up from a couple of reviews. Taylor didn't go straight to lethal force on Lung because she's still paranoid that that would get her thrown into the Wards- logical maybe not, but it is what it is. And she didn't use her Void Prison or whatever you want to call it because...well, simply because drawing that heavily on the Warp is enormously damaging to her. In fact, when she eventually did use it it left her utterly helpless and Lung still kind of functional. Would it have worked better if used earlier? Maybe, maybe not. But the point is that she wasn't too keen on using a massively painful, self damaging technique right off the bat. Which I thought was honestly kind of understandable.
As always- I hope you enjoyed, and I'd appreciate any review you care to leave.