Empress Ascendant

by Unruly Marmite

The Emperor wasn't sure how he ended up in a different universe, or what the parasite leeching off Humanity was. But he was the guardian of Mankind, and there was at least one person on this world worthy of taking up his mantle.

19. Chapter 17

Another weekly update. It's almost becoming a habit.

---

The Imperial Palace of Terra was hardly a welcoming place. Even at the best of times it was too large, too empty, too poorly maintained. Now, empty and just a figment of his imagination, it was indescribably painful to witness.

The Emperor had endured a great deal of pain over his long life, though, and so he strode through the facsimile of his home with an even gait. This was not really the Palace, of course: it was a mere memory made material, something to give shape to his thoughts- and Taylor's. Not even he truly understood the workings of the Warp and the minds that could control it, but he suspected that this place, the Palace half-melded with Brockton Bay and scrapings of America, was purely mental, an image to give reference to the two souls contained within their single body. The Emperor had seen this only a few times, every time when Taylor had been gripped in the throes of a prophetic dream. Usually he simply existed, seeing through her eyes, hearing through her ears, his soul entwined irreversibly with hers.

She was trapped now, in a nightmare rather than a dream, but he knew not where. Somewhere in these labyrinthian ruins she was trapped, caught in her darkest memories. He cuffed hair from his eyes and strode on, boots ringing loudly on marble flooring. He was near to the throne room now, but he doubted Taylor would be anywhere near here. If this was a true replica of the Palace- as far as it could be- then she could be hundreds of miles away. After all, the Palace covered most of a continental shelf, a sprawling mess of armouries, cities, factories, layer upon layer of defences and, at the very centre, the great laboratories where the Emperor and his scientists had created the first Space Marines. And the Golden Throne, of course, hidden a short distance away. The Emperor considered all of that, dismissing most of it in a flash and glaring at a classroom that was encroaching on a wall to his left, a decrepit thing that he vaguely recognised as belonging to Taylor's school. Former school, perhaps. But it was a clear indicator that this was a shared projection. It would have been convenient if Taylor could have been found at the Throne, but perhaps not surprising. The echoes of her personality that rang in his head were panicked, afraid.

Her worst memories. Something similar to those. Her mother dying, of course, but then perhaps not. The locker, arguably. Confined. Inescapable. Dark, enclosing. The Emperor clicked his tongue and set off for the deepest laboratories, the Palace moving around him as this fragile reality bent to his will. Walls bent and twisted, city streets forming around him for a moment before the flickering shadows of gang members twisted across them, crushing and warping into the shapes of Space Marines, armour crudely defaced with the eight pointed star, voices raised in hatred. The Emperor ignored them, uncertain and inaccurate memories long since passed. They held no power over him.

At least, not the Marines. But best not to think of the memories that might stay his path, lest he summon them. Better to simply press on, the walls of Brockton becoming more and more common as he walked. The Emperor paused for a moment, calculating his position and taking in the sights around him. Well, that was interesting. If he was correct in his mental reconstruction of Brockton, then Winslow school should be in roughly the same place as the deeper laboratories where he had first created the Thunder Warriors.

The Emperor didn't believe in coincidence. Not in a place like this. He sped his pace, striding briskly along until he heard voices, ringing faintly on the still air. He grimaced as his balance briefly went, feeling as though he was shorter, slimmer. A form belonging to Taylor intruded on his own for a moment, her distress enough to throw him off before he reasserted himself and regained his preferred shape, the one he had worn naturally in his youth. She was close, and tormented. He surged through a misty, half formed wall, broke through a door with no need for subtlety or hesitation and came to a halt, the object of his quest found. Taylor was sitting on the floor, leaning against a locker with the door open, the detritus left over from the event that had brought them together scattered around. Ghastly, misty shapes hovered around her, whispering in eldritch tones that barely caught the voices of her former bullies, calling out to her. Among the whispering symphony the Emperor heard another voice, a soothing woman's tone overlaid by the sounds of a half-heard argument. Her mother, he realised, shortly before the car accident that had killed her. Taylor's darkest memories, given phantasmal form to torment her, to keep her docile.

He would not allow it.

Two long strides brought him closer, close enough to hear the words. They were much as he expected- weak, worthless, pathetic. He strained his ears, filtering out the mocking laughter of children to hear the deeper voice of Taylor's mother.

Your fault, it whispered. Your fault. The argument of her parents was a hollow underscore to the whispers, half heard shouts and recriminations and the quiet, absolute silence that followed, words said in anger and never taken back. Taylor was locked in a death-spiral of memories, he realised, caught up in recrimination and guilt and loss that had never truly left her. He stepped forwards and a voice whispered from the misty walls around him.

Father…

The Emperor stilled, hand reaching to his side for a sword that was no longer there. The whisper echoed around him, reverberating and hissing, a susurration of words from eighteen throats, spoken in eighteen voices, prayer and plea and curse all at once. He took another step, squaring his shoulders as the voices ebbed away, one plaintive tone coming stronger than the others, filled with desperation and angry despair.

Father, I have seen it! Horus will turn against you!

Magnus' voice echoed in his ears, as clear as it had been the day Magnus had unwittingly brought ruin to the Human Webway project. It had been done out of love, out of duty, the Emperor recognised, but he had been infuriated. Enraged. Betrayed, even, that one of his children had disobeyed him. He could make excuses, justifications, he could argue that Leman had been the closest Primarch to send to bring Magnus to him but…who was there to justify to? Malcador was long dead, and Taylor could see his lies, though she rarely commented on them. She knew too much.

No, he had chosen Leman because he knew of the antipathy between the brothers. He had known that, had the Thousand Sons decided to fight, the Space Wolves would destroy them without hesitating. There would be no negotiation. No mercy, no attempt at reconciliation as Guilleman or Sanguinius would have attempted. He had sent Leman knowing that he might condemn the Thousand Sons. That he had, in all likelihood, condemned the son most like himself in power. So unwilling to accept that Horus could turn on him he had thought the worst of Magnus without consideration. Just another mistake, in a long line of them.

I did as I was ordered! Horus ordered them destroyed!

Leman's voice, thick accent made thicker by anger and shame, memories curdled by the horror that had overcome him at the realisation that Magnus was right. That Horus, favoured son, greatest of his children, had betrayed him. And the whispers on the breaths of the Warp, coming from his suffering children. Mortarion, his hate cast aside in the throes of agony, calling out to a father, the only answer he received stemming from a grandfather. Fulgrim, trapped in his own mind, screaming as the last vestige of sanity and restraint slipped away, desperately reaching out only to have that desperation turn to ravenous hatred as his prayers went unanswered. Lorgar, hungering for something greater, something more, and finding it in the darkness. Ferrus, dying on the field, weeping for his failure.

The Emperor fell to his knees, hands rising to cradle his face. Tears flowed without conscious thought as the whispers surrounded him, called to him, all of his greatest failures set before him and backed by ten thousand years of suffering and the suffering of his people, a nightmare without end. A lesser man would have broken before it.

A lesser man would never have been so arrogant as to make those mistakes.

A lesser man would not have had ten thousand years of pain to weigh against the weight of his failures and find purchase in hope. The Emperor mourned. He always would. But he was the Emperor of All Mankind. The protector. The saviour. His mantle was shared, but still his to bear, at least in part, and this twisting power- these insidious memories, spawned from the untamed power of Taylor as she suffered in turn- could not hold him. He closed his eyes and bade a silent farewell to the ghosts of his pasts, to his regret and his sorrow and rose.

The ghosts scattered about him as he strode forwards, reaching Taylor. Perhaps she would break free, herself, in time. She was strong enough to. But she did not have the time that he had. She had not spent thousands of years upon the Golden Throne, all but comatose, allowing her Imperium to fall into rot before she could muster the strength to act again, rise again, act on more than instinct and automatic response. Fortune willing, she never would. But they simply did not have time for her to make that step alone.

But then, Taylor was not alone.

The Emperor swept his hand across his chest, the Warp answering his call with eager power. A single tendril of crackling force whipped from the limb, cutting through the air and sweeping through the phantoms of Taylor's tormentors, their forms wavering like smoke on the air before they dispersed, vanishing into the depths of memory and pain. He stepped closer to Taylor, a minute frown rumpling his brow before he mastered himself.

Taylor remained still and slumped over, sitting with her chin fallen onto her chest and her expression partially hidden by her shattered helmet. The Emperor drew nearer, his expression hardening with every step. He would not allow her to fail this way. He could not allow it.

"Taylor." He said, voice deep and commanding and painfully familiar in his ears, an echo of the man he had once been. She didn't move, but a tiny flicker crossed her mind, fingers twitching as though they ached to form a fist. There was something there, at least.

"Taylor." He repeated.

"Stand."

No reaction. Perhaps, then, he would need to be more forceful.

"Is this it, then? Is this the truth of the successor I have chosen, the extent of my champion? One nightmare and a little self-doubt and you will remain here forever, mourning and silent?"

A stir of something, her head moving a fraction, the fingers tightening just a little more. Maybe this would work.

"Very well then, Taylor. Remain. Stay. I have been trapped for ten thousand years, ten thousand more will not hurt. And we can stay, forever silent, until the parasite devours humanity and the world comes to a close and we are left, alone on a dead world. All of your friends, your family, lost because you were too weak, while we are trapped here until at last the end of the universe, of reality, of time itself comes, and we are freed from the immortal prison you would trap us in."

Taylor had raised her head, dark eyes glittering with unshed tears.

"Shut up."

The Emperor ignored her.

"And then, perhaps I shall be freed to find one more able. One who will not crumble and succumb at the first hurdle, one not as weak. Perhaps this second champion will not fail all that they love, with you as an example."

Taylor's fist caught him right on the hinge of the jaw and he went staggering back, his superhuman strength and immortal prowess meaningless in the face of his successor, every bit as strong in this place as he was. He regained his balance after a few steps, rubbing his mouth and eyeing Taylor, now on her feet. Shorter than him she might be, but her eyes blazed with cerulean power and she met his eyes without flinching. The Emperor smiled.

"If that's your idea of an inspirational speech, you need to take a fucking course on it." She said harshly. The Emperor simply continued to smile.

"It worked, did it not?"

Taylor scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on. We won't get anything done sitting around here."

The Emperor let his smile become something more dangerous.

"Then, successor mine, shall we awaken?"

Taylor grinned back at him, sharp and threatening.

"Oh, let's do this."

---

Taylor was, it was probably fair to say, in a bit of a mood. The bullshit regeneration powers of Noelle aside- and they were bullshit- she had a headache still lingering from the agonising pain that had hit her when she had been absorbed. She was still a bit annoyed about being absorbed. And the in-your-face reminder of all the low points in her life so far was- it was a bit much.

So, jokes aside, it was fair to say that Taylor was kinda pissed off. Which made it entirely reasonable, in her opinion, to throw subtlety out of the window. So what if she broke herself a little bit by drawing on the Warp too heavily? She would heal, and someone needed to deal with Noelle. Besides, who knew what her potential clones could be doing? So Taylor, having discussed it with the Emperor beforehand, came out swinging. Her intent was to, upon awakening physically, surround herself with a storm of telekinetic blades, shamelessly copying Vex, and cut her way out. It would hurt, but she was used to pain by now. The damage shouldn't be that bad.

It was a surprise to both her and the Emperor when she drew on the Warp and called far more power than she should have been able to.

Silver lining, the resultant cyclone of force tore half of Noelle to bloodied shreds, flinging the offal and gore into the maelstrom that raged about her, Taylor seizing the chance to fling herself free.

Less happily, her leg broke in four places on impact with the ground. Taylor crumpled with a shriek of surprise more than pain, a moment before her body registered that most of the meat on her arms had been flensed away and responded with the sort of pain that could only be described as supernatural. Taylor fed the scream into the storm, her agony lost in the shrieking of Noelle as Taylor almost whited out from the pain, vision turning red with blood and pain.

"Taylor! You're drawing too heavily on the Warp!"

'I can't stop!' Taylor spat back, a memory flicking across her mind as Noelle came at her with a roar of outrage. Taylor poured her agony into the Warp, redoubling it and feeding it back and the wall of force that sprang from her fingers flung Noelle fifteen feet through the air, through several shipping crates. Taylor forced herself upright, dumping as much power as she dared into her regeneration, and the agony grew even stronger as her bones cracked back into place only to break again, flesh mending and melding a moment before it was torn from the bone anew. Reason vanished under the pain and Taylor didn't hesitate when a figure lunged at her with electricity sparking along their body. A hand thrust out and grasped and a wall of force crushed the figure to a mess of meat and juices, every finger in her hand shattering an instant before her regeneration forced it back together.

"Something has broken! Our connection to the Warp is stronger than ever, more open, you're drawing more energy than you ever have, it's tearing you apart!" The Emperor barked. Taylor choked, spat out blood that had flooded her throat, swayed on her feet and a lightness overtook her limbs. Suddenly she felt different, stronger, the Emperor not a presence in her thoughts but there in her bones, her blood, her flesh. Her arm lifted without her order and slashed, a shimmering rip in reality following the path of the fingers before Taylor lurched through it, moving like a marionette with only half it's strings, the Emperor in command of her mortal shell. They plunged into the Warp, toppling through a moment before Noelle reached them again.

'What's happening?' Taylor croaked. The Emperor replied swiftly, his tone terse and hard.

"Your mental structure has changed. Something that was blocking us has gone, we're- for want of a better analogy, the dam has failed. Warp energy is pouring through us at an accelerated rate, too much. We need to stop, get it under control."

'No.' Taylor drunkenly protested. 'No, we can't. We need to stop Noelle.'

The Emperor snarled something under his breath.

"I can stay the tide enough that it will not destroy us, but not forever. We will need to work together to deal with this, but I can keep it at bay for a few hours- a day, at most. But even then, the power coming through is too much. Every move will shatter your bones and sear your flesh. Do you think you can fight through that?"

'I won't have to.' Taylor responded, woozy but functional enough. The Emperor hissed.

"What foolish plan have you concocted now?"

'Turn off my pain receptors. Dull the flow enough that we don't fall apart, turn off our sense of pain, keep the regeneration high and the extra power will give us all the edge we need.'

It was a stupid plan. It was untested, untried. It would involve copious amounts of damage to her body, with only her hyper-boosted regeneration to help. Her control would be shot. Her nightmares afterwards would no doubt be lively, to say the least.

The Emperor didn't argue.

"Very well."

'No argument?'

"Much as I would like to, Noelle is a threat on her own. If she managed to create a clone with even a fraction of our powers, it could devastate a significant portion of Brockton Bay. We must clean up this mess, and your stupid, ridiculous plan will at least allow that."

'Well, you aren't wrong.'

"Brace yourself for exit. The impact will not be gentle."

'Oh good.' Taylor managed, a moment before her body flopped through another rip in reality and slammed into concrete.

Happily the Emperor had managed to turn off her sense of pain a moment before that, so the way her ribs cracked and the momentary breathlessness as a lung collapsed were merely unusually discomforting, rather than paralyzingly painful. Taylor dragged in a breath as her ribs crunched back into place and her lung returned to full functionality, raising to her feet. Her fingers tingled, phantom feeling fighting the numbness. It was sort of pleasant, in an incredibly strange and concerning way.

'Well that was exciting.' She noted, looking around. Familiar surroundings stared back at her and she blinked in surprise.

'Are we back at my lair?'

"I was able to use the overflow of power to open a portal to the Warp and teleport us, yes. It was the first place that seemed safe."

'Not just safe.' Taylor murmured, her eyes falling on a messenger bag in the corner: a bag filled with Bakuda's bombs. She snatched it up and slung it on her shoulder, looking around with a quick motion. Her eyes fell on her white replacement armour, particularly the helmet. It was the work of a moment to remove her shattered, broken helm and replace it.

'Alright. Can we pull off that teleportation again?'

"Not as quickly. But yes, we simply need a location."

'Just get us as close to the largest group of people you can manage. I've got a bad feeling about this.'

"As you wish."

Power trickled along her fingers and Taylor swiped at the air, stepping through the forming rift and into nothingness. It wasn't a long walk- perhaps twenty metres, as though measurements meant anything in here. The experience was surreal, the realm of dreams formless around her, as though she strode through an endless tunnel filled with ever-shifting mist. Had she wished it, Taylor could have reached out and made the swirling thoughts and energies around her become solid, at least for a small time. As it was, she was content that the mist solidified underfoot, moving along at a clip only slightly slower than a run. The bag of bombs swung awkwardly on her shoulder and she adjusted it as she moved. The mist rippled ahead of her, her will and power parting it to reveal the half-lit darkness of the Dock beyond and Taylor made the leap through the gap, landing in a stagger made clumsy by the lessened feeling in her limbs. She remained on her feet, however, staggering three steps before her gait smoothened and she was once again moving quickly. She took cover behind a stack of wooden pallets, stood before a rusting crate, and took stock of her situation, casting her will around her. The use of her power left the tingling taste of copper on her tongue, but it quickly vanished. More concerning than that was the state of the Docks. Minds set with malice roamed the Docks in pairs, fixated with violence and hungry for pain. Armsmaster and Velocity where near the centre of the Docks, forging a path away, while Noelle brooded in the ruins of the base, her mind harder to read. The all-consuming rage was still there, but her path of destruction seemed to have halted for the moment. Taylor paused and focused, concentrating on a cluster of minds that she faintly recognised, the signatures clouded with pain and fear.

Her eyes widened as she recognised them, and the shape of the soul among them, victorious and murderous. She burst from behind the pallets and broke into a sprint, hoping against hope that she wasn't too late. It was a short sprint, but every step seemed dragged through molasses, concrete and steel maze closing around her as she burst through it, breath rasping in her throat, metallic air in her lungs but she managed it, crashed around a corner and slid to a halt in time to hear the last words.

"-Now that it's your turn?"

Taylor burst into the light and flung an arm out. A wall of force ripped from her fingers, the air wavering around it as it tore through the air. The figure she had aimed for turned, shock colouring pleasure before the force flung it like a ragdoll, spinning through the air and landing in a three-point stance. Insects buzzed and swarmed around it and Taylor slid the messenger bag off her shoulders, freeing her arms as she strode towards a fallen body, white and green stained and discoloured with crimson. Taylor sank to her knees, ignoring all else as she pulled Vista to her, cradling the much smaller girl. Vista was choking, dying, every ragged breath a struggle against encroaching mortality. Taylor gritted her teeth.

"No." she told Vista, her tone devoid of compromise, "You don't die here."

Force wrapped around the pole and pulled it free, as straight and painless as Taylor could manage. Blood spurted from the jagged wound, soaking Taylor's already soaking coat and smearing her helmet but she was not done yet, a hand settling over the wound. Vista let out a hacking cough, laced with a keening moan of pain and despair. More blood-spattered Taylor as she called upon the Warp and fed power through Vista. No time for subtlety or restraint, the raw energy of the Warp seared her fingers and caused her vision to shade bloody red but it remained hers to command, pouring through Vista. Flesh moved and shifted, writhing and twisting as it pulled together and Vista drew in a gasping breath, her scream throttled by the blood in her lungs but the ragged muscle and sinew drew back together, closed under Taylor's hand and Vista sucked in a desperate gasp. Her hands flew up to her chest as Taylor stood, a soft noise of pain preceding a sob that Vista tried to muffle, the injury only barely held together.

"Stay as still as you can." Taylor told her gently. "It's not fully healed."

Vista stared up at her with wide eyes, wet with pain and confusion, but she nodded. Taylor turned, slowly, letting fury build in her stomach and rise into her throat, hot and acid, spreading through her limbs and sparking in her blood, molten steel rather than the usual quicksilver flash. The woman who had nearly killed Vista pulled herself to her feet, dragging a hand nonchalantly across her mouth and dismissing the blood there with a glance. Insects buzzed around her, clinging to her frame and crawling across the spatters of gore that marred flawless skin.

"Mother. You're a little earlier than I expected." She said, her voice a perfect echo of Taylor's own. Taylor's only response was a twitch of the fingers that hurled the weapon that had impaled Vista at the clone, the bar moving with frightening speeds.

The clone tilted her body to the side, shifting enough that the pointed pole missed. It slammed into a crate where it stuck, quivering with the violence of its impact. Taylor tasted blood.

She welcomed it, feeding the taste into her anger and her intent. Her clone met her gaze with appraising blue eyes.

"If that's the way it's going to be then, Mother."

Taylor burst into motion, sprinting at her clone. The clone came to meet her with a snarl colouring her expression, the swarm draping itself around her shoulders and reaching forwards, wavering fingers in the night. Taylor fed power into herself and splayed her hand open, flames condensing around her left hand. She led with a lunging left, the flames around her fist spreading into a corona that scattered the swarm of insects, several dozen of them sparking away like fireflies. Her clone came out of the swarm with a snarl across her features and met Taylor half-way, her hands closing over Taylor's wrist before she jammed her hip against Taylor and threw her. Taylor twisted with the throw, landing on one knee and driving her fist against the clones' ribcage in a straight blow. The clone let go of her, skipping back to bleed off as much of the impact as possible but Taylor heard her grunt, felt her fist crunch against a solid plate of bone.

The clone grinned at her.

"Did you feel it, Mother? Can you see how beyond you I am?"

"All I see is a cheap copy." Taylor responded, rising to her feet. Her clone inclined her head.

"Then I'll change your mind, Mother. My name is Luna. I am every bit your equal."

They sprang at each other again, exchanging blows that were blocked and parried, moving with frightening synchronicity, swaying and bobbing as they traded blows. Luna was stronger, faster, enhanced beyond humanity but Taylor simply flooded her bones and muscles with powers, enhancing herself in return to keep up. They broke apart from a quick exchange, both breathing quick and heavy and Taylor thrust out a hand and pulled the pole from the crate towards her. Luna rolled her head and dipped her shoulders enough that it missed, speeding past her skull and into Taylor's hand and Taylor caught it, spinning and bringing it down. Luna caught her wrist with a grunt of effort, right hand closing around Taylor's own and stretching her arm out, her left fist slashing towards Taylor's arm. Taylor snapped her own left fist across, catching Luna's attempted arm-breaking blow before she dragged her clone close and rammed her helmet into Luna's face. Luna grunted in pain, Taylor drawing back and headbutting again and Luna squirmed free, dropped back under the impact of the third headbutt and threw herself into a backflip, a boot coming up and catching Taylor under the chin, sending her staggering in return. Taylor tasted blood on her lips under the helmet. Nothing new there.

"We don't have to do this, Mother." Luna rasped, letting the chain wrapped around her forearm slide free, links rattling ominously. Taylor glared at her and tightened her grip on her weapon.

"There is no other way." She responded, darting in again. Luna backed off and whipped the chain at her, a blurring length of steel that Taylor ducked under. Luna kept her distance, ducking back and slicing the chain through the air in quick arcs, whipping it with lethal force. Taylor weaved her way in, letting the chain pass overhead or to her side or glance off her armour, grimly determined. Luna bared her teeth in a defiant grimace. She gave another slashing, whipping blow and Taylor raised her left arm and caught the chain on her vambrace, letting it wrap around her. The impact fractured her wrist, bones grinding together with nauseating numbness for a moment before they deformed and returned to place but Taylor ignored it, bringing the pole up like a spear. Luna pulled her left hand from behind her back and brought it up, pistol in hand. A wild grin graced her features and Taylor dropped the pole.

A burst of telekinetic force sprang from her fingers, knocking the gun aside, tearing it from Luna's grip. Taylor shifted her left hand fingers, pressed them to the chain and let Warp-spawned lightning flow down them, into the chain. Luna let out a snarling cry of pain before her jaw stiffened and Taylor felt will rise in her clone, determination and fury feeding her soul and the lightning sputtered, still painful but not nearly as incapacitating as it should have been. Luna hauled on the chain, dragged Taylor closer and drove a right hook into her stomach with brutal force. Taylor bent over the blow, savagely hard even through her armour, but her right hand came up and pressed against Luna's chest and a burst of force sent Luna sailing away. She slammed into a crate with a solid, cracking noise, falling to the floor.

The chain fell away from Taylor's arm, sliding to the ground as Taylor grimaced through the damage to her stomach. No pain but her breath came difficult for a few breaths, a few breaths before she healed and choked down the blood that had arisen in her throat and straightened her back. Luna slowly climbed to her feet, her shoulder clearly dislocated. She reached up, manipulated it before slamming her arm into the crate again, cracking the bone back into position. Her expression had contorted into something awful, a terrible mixture of rage and pain and desperation.

"How, Mother. How can you fight me like this, and everyone else with kid gloves? How can you look upon them and think that they are worthy of life, of liberty, of peace? How can you think these useless sheep can be trusted to save themselves?"

Luna's voice rose to a scream part-way through, hate maddening her gaze and her tone. Taylor straightened her back and faced her clone, her tone even and calm.

"Because they can be better. Can you?"

Luna shrieked in wordless hate and a cloud of insects descended upon them both, buzzing and chittering across the ground. Taylor curled her fingers into fists before she splayed out her hands, fingers reaching out. A firefly spark of warp-flame sprang from the tip of each finger, flashing across the open space and striking an insect. Taylor fed the fire with her bloody determination, guiding it and moving it and it spread like a ravenous fiend, each spark jumping to another insect as one burned it's life in a brief, sparkling candle, the swarm lighting in dazzling display for a long, dragging moment before it was consumed and Taylor let the fire die, the air still, the ashes settle.

Taylor suppressed a cough, blood filling her mouth before she swallowed it, the taste sickly on her tongue. The smell of charred chitin filled the air. Luna set her jaw and glared at her.

"You think I can't be better, Mother? Are you really naïve enough to think that I am the only clone vomited out by that thing, out there in the darkness? Of course not. I was the first, but there were plenty of others. But they- they're nothing, Mother. Merely existing is torment for them. The very powers they aspire to wield tear them apart, pale shadows that should not exist, mindless monsters that deserve nothing but extermination! But I?"

The glare slowly melted away, turning to a crazed grin as Luna raised her hand and looked at it, her gaze filled with wonderment.

"I am perfect, Mother, second only to you. My powers, mine to command. My body…this imperfect flesh, sculpted by a hand more knowing than any pretend God and made true in the kiln, the one thing that beast ever did right. My mind and my soul, devoted. To humanity, Mother. And to you."

Creeping dread crawled along Taylor's limbs, the echo of the first fallen Primarch whispering in her ears, alongside the innumerable voices, crying out for salvation in their darkest hours, to rare answers. Luna looked at her again, some flicker of sanity returning to her gaze.

"You can be better, Mother. You can make this world better. But if you are too soft, then I shall do it for you!"

Luna kicked off from the ground, bolting towards Taylor with startling speed. Enhanced, definitely enhanced and Taylor brought her hand up, power surged through her arms and a vice-grip of force closed around Luna as she jumped. Her will was too strong for Taylor to simply crush her, but holding her was within Taylor's power and Taylor caught her, whipped her hand to the side and Luna smashed into a crate with awful force. Taylor refused to let her go, whipping her arm back the other way and Luna sailed back across, hammered into a second crate and Taylor dragged her in, met her face with a fist before she planted a hand against Luna's chest and hurled her across the darkened area, watching her ram into the ground and skip, rolling limply along. Taylor's arm fell to her side as tendons gave way and sinews tore, but they healed almost immediately, writhing together and coiling back into place as she flexed her fingers.

"Be careful, Taylor. Attempting to maintain this rate of injury and healing could lead to permanent damage- or at least several years of lasting injury."

Taylor tutted through her teeth but let the power go, feeling it wisp away between her fingers. Luna slowly rolled over, a hacking cough dragging itself from the bundled figure on the ground. Taylor eyed the smear of blood that she had left with a dispassionate gaze as Luna planted a hand on the asphalt and levered herself to her feet. Another cough came from her lips, followed by a string of bloody drool. Luna coughed painfully and spat, forcing herself to stand.

"Look at you, Mother. Just look at you. You make all these other idiots look like children. How painful is it, to stand here and know that you are surrounded by nothing but inferiors?"

Luna's voice was a low rasp, harsh and grating, a massive change from the honey purr that it had been before. Her gaze remained lowered, eyes seeming to fix themselves on the spatter of blood and spittle that she had left on the ground.

"Just look at them. Armsmaster, consumed by his need to be the best, too absorbed in his pride to be a functioning human. Miss Militia, so patriotic, all because she comes from such a shithole that she's blind to the way this country is falling apart. The Wards, all so stupid and optimistic. Glory Girl, little miss collateral herself, good thing she has a pet healer on hand, right?"

Luna's voice had risen, broken glass and nails on a chalkboard. She doubled over for an instant, her frame wracked with hacking coughs again before she choked them down.

"Panacea, gifted beyond reason and too stupid to look after herself! You know it as well as I do, Mother, she's nothing but a time-bomb. Tick tick tick and she'll snap and make Bonesaw look like a snake oil salesman and they'll all shake their heads and pat themselves on the back for dealing with the new threat and say 'what a pity, what could have made such a nice young woman snap like that'. And Canary, sent to the Birdcage because she told her abusive fucking ex to go fuck himself and he was so stupid that he listened to her sing before he confronted her even though he knew more about her powers than almost anyone!"

Taylor gritted her teeth and took a step forwards, but Luna wasn't done.

"And Sophia- fucking Shadow Stalker? How can you even think that she's a hero? She's a fucking headcase! Look at what she did to you, the taunts and the names and the fucking- the fucking glue on the seats and stolen homework and the fucking locker! Because her fucking philosophy, the thought that the strong can do whatever they fucking please and the weak get pissed on! How can you just stand by when she could be doing that to anyone else?"

The clone- Luna- staggered, one hand pressed against her ribs. A tearing cough wracked her frame for a moment, the next words flecked with bloody saliva.

"What's the quote, Mother? The strong do as they please, the weak suffer as they must. That's about right. While you wander about doing as you like, everyone gets fucked over."

Luna forced herself to stand straight, meeting Taylor's eyes with a clear blue gaze, her eyes filled with some desperation that Taylor couldn't understand, though she felt it resonate in her.

"You think she'll mysteriously get better because you turned the other cheek, Mother? She's a psychopath. She'll never change, we both know that. She'd be better off dead, just like Bakuda, just like Oni Lee. That way she'll never hurt anyone else again!"

Taylor knew what she should say here- that revenge solved nothing, that she wasn't judge, jury and executioner. But the words rang hollow even in her head. To say them would be nothing more than hypocrisy, after Oni Lee. Luna seemed to see it, baring crimsoned teeth in a parody of a smile.

"That's not our call to make." Taylor managed, although her voice was soft. Subdued. Luna shook her head.

"If not ours, Mother, then who will make it? And who can we trust to make the right decision?"

Luna was moving, Taylor realised. She was sliding to the side, repositioning herself to get an angle on Sophia, still curled and sobbing on the ground.

And for a moment, Taylor considered it. It would be easy, she knew. All she had to do was let Luna do as she pleased, and anyone who asked would be told the same thing: that Taylor had been tired from fighting Luna and escaping Noelle, from her attack on Coil's base earlier. She hadn't reacted quickly enough. It was even true, from a certain point of view. It was tempting. So very, very tempting.

But all dreams are fleeting. And besides, Taylor couldn't rub her power in Sophia's face if she were dead. So, when Luna moved again, Taylor stepped in the way and called on the Warp. She saw the futures, sparkling and laid out before her, beams of light piercing her eyes and eternity stinging on her tongue, blood smell thick in her nose. She swayed, bobbing aside from a straight blow and gave one back, to the chin, bending as Luna caught it and lancing a foot at the knee. Luna gave way with a grunt and Taylor slid in, tilted her head so that the counterpunch missed by less than an inch and drove a vicious punch into the ribs. It was a short strike, not travelling far, but it struck with terrible force and Luna wheezed in pain, breath torn from her lungs. Taylor reached up and caught her by the chin, slapping her bicep at just the right angle that the blow to her own midsection was blunted before Taylor drove a punch into Luna's face and watched her fall back. Eternity called, alluring and bright and Taylor gazed into the futures and saw reality spread before her and she wondered what she might find there, what secrets might be hidden and

Taylor came back to herself with a jolt in her mind, the Emperor sending a crackling force through her mind to drag her out of her gaze. Luna dragged herself backwards, away, a grimace on those features, so like Taylor and yet not.

"Well played." She muttered, just before she brought up her hand, handgun in her fingers. She squeezed the trigger, aiming it not at Taylor but past her, to the-the Wards. Taylor moved as soon as she saw the gun, leaping to the side and spreading a barrier of force before it. Even as she did so a second swarm of insects appeared, spilling into the light from the darkness, smaller than the last and surrounding them in a buzzing, chittering swarm. Taylor let her shield go and gathered flame in her hands and, just like that, the swarm dispersed.

Taylor blinked and looked down.

Luna was gone.

"Fuck." She whispered, keeping her tone as quiet as possible. The gun was still there, abandoned on the ground, but the only sign of her clone were a few lingering smears of blood.

Taylor turned, rubbing at her arms to ward off a sudden chill and surveying the carnage. Kid Win caught her eye, waving at her with a desperate look on what she could see on his face.

"Circaetus! Triumph- he's-"

Taylor quickly jogged over to him, stumbling slightly as she moved. Kid Win looked terrible- one leg was askew, clearly broken, but he seemed far more concerned about Triumph. The Protectorate member was lying on his back, and Taylor drew in a sharp breath as she saw the blood.

"Panacea." She snapped, even as she fell to her knees and pressed her hand against Triumph's chest. She couldn't feel a pulse through her gauntlets, assuming he had one still, but the tiny amount of psychic power she extruded into him let her feel his heart beating, slower and slower. Multiple bullet wounds in the abdomen, and Taylor didn't think she was up to healing them.

"Panacea!" she barked, raising her voice. Panacea stumbled over to her, face pale and drawn. Taylor stood in a swift motion and both Panacea and Kid Win flinched.

It hurt to see, but Taylor didn't think she could blame them. Both had nearly been killed by something with her face, her voice, her form. It would have left her a little shaken, had she been on the receiving end.

"Help him." Taylor ordered, striding off to try and corral the others. Vista was still where Taylor had left her, breathing laboured but steady with her hands clutched over the rent in her breastplate. Taylor spared a moment to check on her but quickly moved on. The PRT Troopers were dead, she could see that at a glance, and so she ignored them. She went next to Tattletale, fallen in a crumpled heap at the edge of the fighting area. Taylor knelt next to her, gently putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her. Tattletale gasped, glassy eyes staring at Taylor in panic and Taylor rocked back on her heels, raising her hands.

"Tattletale? Tattletale, it's me, Circaetus. You're alright, Tattletale. You're alright."

"Circaetus?" Tattletale whispered, slurring through the injury to her jaw- broken, Taylor thought. She nodded, slowly reaching down and running her fingers along Tattletale's arm. The Undersider flinched under the probing touch, a low moan of pain leaving her mouth, and Taylor muttered an apology. Right forearm break. Left ankle fracture. Left fingers, broken. Jaw, broken. Tattletale had been through the ringer, and Taylor carefully scooped the injured girl into her arms and carried her back, over to Vista. Vista looked at her as she approached, mouth setting into a thin line of understanding. They were allies of convenience, here, no matter how much the Wards might dislike it. Alright. That was most of them, just- Stalker. Taylor quickly approached the fallen Ward, distaste flickering in her stomach at the thought. She expected to find a body, but Stalker was still alive.

'I would have expected Luna to kill her.' She thought. The Emperor let out a rumbling, mirthless chuckle.

"Would you have done so, if you had her at your mercy and no repercussions?"

Taylor didn't reply to that, instead tipping Sophia over and ignoring the weak flailing that smacked pointlessly against her armour. Blood stained the mask Sophia wore, thick runnels that traced from the eyes to the jaw, clear jelly smeared in with the crimson. Taylor grimaced as Sophia struggled and pressed a hand against her temple.

'Sleep.'

Sophia went limp and Taylor pulled her off the ground, ignoring the irony and the voice in her thoughts that urged her to leave Sophia there, limp and blind and helpless. She hated being the better woman, but it had to be done sometimes.

"How's Triumph?" she called. Panacea twitched, her voice cracking halfway through her reply.

"Bad. One of the bullets hit his spine, he's paralysed. I can't fix it quickly, it's too bad, I-"

"Then stabilise him enough that he can be moved and move on. We can't stay here and I need as many of you mobile as possible." Taylor interrupted. She sensed Panacea open her mouth and turned her mask to her, posture unyielding.

Panacea closed her mouth and Taylor dumped Stalker next to Vista, turning to the pillar of foam that held Browbeat.

"How am I meant to get him out of here?" she muttered. He was alive, she thought, his soul still there, flickering feebly, but she couldn't tell any more about his condition with the rubbery foam still encasing him.

"Needs a special solvent." Kid Win offered from his position, slumped on the ground with his leg stretched out before him. The break was visible from her position, a lump in the shin, and his voice was brittle with pain.

"Alright." Taylor said, making a conscious effort to gentle her tone. There was no point in shouting at them, it wasn't their fault that the clones were- well, exceedingly efficient. But they needed to get away from here.

"Can it be moved? We need to go, I don't think I can protect you all if Luna comes back with friends."

Taylor could handle one clone, she felt. Even Luna, in open combat, her powers giving her the edge. Maybe two, if Luna wasn't one of them. But more than that and she would be hard pressed to protect herself, never mind half a dozen crippled friendlies. Speaking of crippled.

"Miss Militia? Is she ok?" Taylor added. Kid nodded, his jaw set tight and his skin as pale as milk.

"She's unconscious." He reported quietly. Taylor nodded and crouched to check on Vista.

"Vista? You ok there?"

Vista looked up at her. Her breathing was still unsteady, but there was a look in her eyes that Taylor approved of.

"Fine. I'm fine." She said, her voice whispery and uneven and the pallor of her skin showing the lie. The small Ward gritted her teeth, fingers pressing against her breastplate.

"I can walk."

"Alright." Taylor murmured, hastily calculating. Vista could walk. Kid was easy to heal, that was two. If the two of them could carry Stalker and Panacea could carry Tattletale, Taylor could carry Triumph and bring Browbeat and Militia with her telekinesis. It was a long way from her preferred solution, but it would get everyone out.

"Alright, this is what we're going to do." She said, her mind made up. Browbeats' injuries had to be ignored, she had to move him regardless.

"Panacea, get Kid Win into walking shape. Kid, Vista, Panacea, the three of you carry Stalker and Tattletale. I'll bring Triumph, Browbeat and Militia because we need to move fast and get out of here before- someone's coming."

Kid Win planted his arms on the ground and slowly levered himself to his feet, his pistol in his hand. Taylor clucked her tongue at him but said nothing. Instead she reached out, pulling the metal pole from the ground where it lay and letting it drift into her hand.

An effort of will let power drift sluggishly down it and coalesce on the end, a makeshift spear. A crude weapon, but sufficient. Whoever was approaching was moving quickly, their souls familiar- Taylor thought it might be Velocity and Armsmaster, but she was taking no chances. If they were clones then the best response would be to deal with them quickly, and neither seemed to be slowing down. Taylor flexed the fingers on the free hand, ignored the rippling crunching that went through them as momentarily fragile bones gave way and bared her teeth in a grin that felt ghoulish even to herself.

A crimson blur entered the lit area, speeding right for her. Taylor whipped out her hand and a line of force whisked along the ground, ankle height and strong. The blur hit it and went head-over-heels, blurring speed converted directly into momentum and flinging himself along the ground. The second attacker was slower but no less dangerous, covering the empty space between them at ferocious speed and leaping at her with halberd in hand.

Taylor surged power through her weapon and met it halfway, the metal crashing against the halberd with a jarring shriek, field of force holding against the razor-sharp edge. Taylor's arm nearly failed her, a blow hammering into her ribs and driving the breath out of her but her fingers reached, pulled, caught and her left hand rose and the handgun jammed itself under the clone's chin. Taylor gave him a grin that couldn't be seen under her helmet.

"Armsmaster, stop!" Kid Win shouted behind them. The clone froze and Taylor suddenly felt doubt, leaching through her and stealing her thunder. No, no. She should pull the trigger, just in case. But what if it wasn't? Caught in a momentary indecision Taylor didn't fire and her attacker skipped back, halberd twirling around and dropping into a defensive position.

"Circaetus?" he asked. Taylor worked her jaw and shifted herself, raising the bar in her hand before her in mockery of a defensive sword stance, the gun dropping to her side.

"In the flesh."

"You're telling the truth." Armsmaster observed, "But how do I know the clones don't think of themselves as real?"

"How do I know you aren't a clone?" Taylor shot back. She eyed him for a moment longer, tension aching in the air before she shook her head and let the metal in her hand drop.

"Proof enough?"

Armsmaster straightened from his crouched stance, halberd dropping slightly.

"No. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, for now. How did you escape Noelle?"

Taylor shrugged.

"Not sure. I woke up, tore my way free and somehow ended up in my workshop. Came back just in time to stop my clone from ventilating all these poor bastards."

Armsmaster stepped back.

"Very well. Your clone, though? We've encountered one, it had no active powers. It seemed to be enhanced physically, but nothing else."

"Yeah well, this one had that and insect control. Called itself Luna. We need to go, though- can you get Browbeat free of the foam?"

Armsmaster nodded sharply, dried blood cracking on his helmet under the force of the motion.

"Check the PRT Troopers. Velocity, we're going to retreat to the van the Troopers arrived in- ensure that it's safe."

Velocity vanished and Taylor moved over to the mess of fallen PRT Troopers. None of them were alive: she checked them all regardless, but they were all gone. She grimaced and inclined her head to them.

'If there is an afterlife, I hope they get there easy.'

"We can only hope."

"None of the Troopers survived. What about Browbeat?" Taylor asked, returning to Armsmaster. Armsmaster shook his head.

"The foam is nearly dissolved. I applied the solvent, it should be collapsing around now."

Taylor turned to face the pillar as it melted away, stepping forwards slightly faster than Armsmaster as Browbeat fell out. She caught him in her arms, letting his bulky frame slump onto her, his head flopping loosely back.

Bare bone and writhing insects stared back at her.

Taylor swore and barely repressed the urge to jump back, wriggling insects and spiders pouring from the chewed hole that had once been an eye. She let Browbeat slide down, to his knees, and clamped her hands either side of his head.

"Panacea!" she shouted, pressing power through her hands and burning the insects to ash, dragging it out with a whispering breath of power. She heard someone scuffle over and then noisy vomiting- Kid, maybe- followed by a curse from Armsmaster, low and intense. Panacea hurried over as Taylor fell to her knees, letting Browbeat fall to the ground in her arms and lying him on his back, fingers moving with desperate hope that maybe there was still something there but…but.

"Taylor."

'Fuck. No, no, no. Fuck.'

"Move." Panacea snarled, pushing Taylor out of the way. Taylor moved with it, shimmying aside as Panacea bent down and laid her hands on Browbeats' face. Taylor already knew it was hopeless, he wasn't breathing, wasn't moving, she couldn't hear the timbre of his mind anymore, but…

Hope dies last.

Panacea stilled, fingers freezing, her head bowed. Taylor swallowed.

"Panacea?" Armsmaster asked. Panacea shook her head.

"I- I'm sorry. He's gone. Even if we had gotten to him earlier, I can't- I can't do brains."

Taylor saw the lie in her soul and rage surged in her, bright and hot and poisonous and it took all of her will and her logic to prevent her from striking the Healer, from knocking her from her feet for saying those words. She felt it in every bone, every drop of blood, boiling with magma nausea in her stomach. But she was stronger now, in control, even if her voice came out guttural and strained with hate.

"How?"

"What?" Panacea asked, confused.

"How did he die?" Taylor barked, her voice rising with fury. Panacea cringed in the face of her, but Taylor's anger left no room for concern.

"The- the insects, they burrowed through his eye and optic nerve into the brain. They must have been- I don't think it's natural behaviour."

Taylor ground her jaw until she thought her teeth might crack, muscles in her neck straining with the effort of keeping her mouth shut.

"I'll kill her." She whispered, a promise to the dead child before her as much as to herself. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder and it took all Taylor had to avoid lashing out.

"We can't stay here." Armsmaster said, his voice cold and distant and somehow shattered, broken. Taylor felt his emotions, repressed by years of professionalism but raging within him, shame and anger and sorrow intermingled in a toxic brew. Taylor dragged in a deep, rasping breath and nodded.

"I know. Do we take the bodies?"

Armsmaster stood in silence for half a dozen heartbeats before he slowly shook his head and spoke.

"We can't. We don't have time. We take the wounded."

He slowly turned his gaze to her, empty even behind his opaque visor, the blood on his armour like stains on the garb of a once-proud knight.

"We leave the dead."

They made a ragged, dispirited band when they set out. Armsmaster carried Triumph, the Tinker hero carrying his bulky comrade on his back with apparent ease. Panacea and Kid carried Sophia between them, an arm slung over each shoulder, and Taylor cradled Miss Militia to her chest in a bridal carry, her height and build enough that the hero was small impediment, with Tattletale leaning on Taylor's shoulder- the Undersider was limping, but mobile. Vista, the only one unencumbered, moved with them, her breathing still laboured.

Panacea had pronounced Taylor's healing to be adequate, but crude. Taylor had nearly hit her, and only the thought of having to then have Vista carry someone had stilled her. The messenger bag full of Bakuda bombs was once again slung on Taylor's shoulder, unused but ready. They were shuffling along the road out of the docks when a loud whistle drew attention, followed by slow claps. Taylor turned her head and felt her rage reignite, for her clone stood atop one of the crates, lit by the dull moon and a smirk on her face.

"And so you retreat, too afraid to stand to the last. Remind me, Mother, why you tolerate these mewling cowards?"

Taylor bent down, carefully lying Miss Militia on the ground and helping Tattletale to sink to the concrete next to her. Armsmaster didn't look at her as she straightened, but his tone was crisp and commanding.

"Circaetus, do not engage." He ordered, his tone a low and forceful whisper. Taylor shrugged.

"Too late. She won't let us leave, and she didn't come alone."

Luna let out a surprisingly pleasant laugh.

"How right you are, Mother. No, there's no escape. The meat-vat demands it and, while I am not enslaved to it as the others are, I find it fits my own agenda. A shame New Wave have not yet arrived, though. Perhaps their deaths would persuade you of your foolishness."

"Strong words, Luna. But I wouldn't call not being a murderous psychotic foolishness." Taylor replied, moving to stand a little closer to her clone. Luna grinned down at her, her posture straighter than it had been. Was she already healing from her injuries?

"Maybe, Mother, maybe. But there you stand, in front of Shadow Stalker. In front of the girl that bullied you until you triggered. Tell me, Taylor, is that really anything but stupidity?"

Caught off guard by the use of her actual name, Taylor didn't immediately reply and Luna shrugged.

"Let me know if you think of an answer, Mother. Assuming you survive."

Taylor turned to her right, stepping away from the others as she felt more minds approaching, maybe four or five. Clones, she realised. Armsmaster came to her side, halberd sharp and gleaming in his hands, the blade free of blood despite the butchery he had done with it.

"Clones?" he asked. Taylor nodded.

"Half a dozen, maybe."

Armsmaster nodded in reply, widening his stance and raising his halberd. Taylor flexed her fingers and called on the Immaterium as the first clone came into view.

The Battery clone was the first, streaking along in a blur of blue sparks and light. It came right for them, moving at blistering speeds and Taylor raised her hand and called up a wall of force. The clone hit it with terrible force, slammed to a half with the crackling of broken bones and pulping flesh and Taylor let the wall drop, darted past the staggering and wounded clone. Behind her she heard Armsmaster let out a snarling breath and the wet chop of metal through meat and she moved onto the second fastest clone. This one looked like Dauntless, light shining around his hands as he rushed in and Taylor met him halfway, skipping away from the grasping fingers as he tried to grab her. A quick jab met his nose and sent him wobbling back before she reached out, caught him in a web of force and lifted him from the ground, spinning and ramming him into the crate beside her with enough force to dent it before she threw him at Armsmaster who met the clone with his halberd.

Two down.

A Grue clone, darkness swirling in the narrow space and Taylor plunged into it, through it and crashed into the clone, a leaping tackle that sent it to the ground. Something cracked in her leg but she felt it snap back into place and the Grue clone was far from the threat the original was, deformed, limbs spindly and Taylor ignored the feeble blows it threw at her in favour of seizing it by the head and beating it's skull against the ground until it stopped moving. The darkness faded and she rose, just in time to see Armsmaster duck under a swinging blow from a clone that looked like Raijin before the halberd swept out, took the leg and the clone collapsed and Armsmaster raised the halberd and plunged it down.

Four. Two left.

A beam of light cut through the air, spearing past Taylor and striking Armsmaster in the shoulder. He spun half around with a grunt of surprise and Taylor spun in the direction it had come from. The last two clones were there, one a hunched and twisted mockery of Dauntless. The second was a Battery clone, emaciated in appearance. Its arms were no longer arms: the bone seemed to have erupted from the forearms, sheathing the hands in a glistening barrier.

"The clones appear to become more and more distorted as time goes by."

'Yeah, looks like Noelle doesn't clone as perfect as she might like. Wonder what ours would end up like?'

"Non-functional, in all likelihood. The clones after Luna seem to be standard humans with our transhuman alterations fully made- it's very easy for that to go wrong."

Taylor hummed in quiet acknowledgment, shifting on her feet.

"Armsmaster, you alright?"

"The attack did not penetrate my armour."

"Good. But there're only these two left…and Luna."

A brief peal of laughter distracted Taylor.

"Don't think you've won yet, mother. There are plenty more coming. Besides, you two haven't done a very good job of protecting these injured, have you?"

Taylor twisted in time to see Luna drop from her position on the crate, a length of something now in her hand. She was behind their group, with Taylor and Armsmaster separated from her by the others. Taylor was moving almost before Armsmaster spoke.

"Circaetus, stop her!" he snapped, already surging towards the last two clones himself. Taylor started to run, but she was already too late, Luna too fast. The clone moved forwards with dizzying speed, catching Kid Win with a blow to the visor that sent him staggering back and slamming the item in her hand into Panacea's head, knocking the healer down. Shadow Stalker somehow kept her feet, wobbling and wavering and Taylor hurdled Tattletale's prone form, moving as fast as she could. Luna laughed.

"I don't know why you bother, Taylor. Sophia here really is a pretence. She's just as weak as anyone else."

Taylor saw it coming. Later, she wondered if anyone else had done so.

Sophia did the stupidest possible thing and lunged at Luna, shouting in anger. Luna reached into her pocket and produced a taser, casually planting it in Sophia's ribs and delivering a stunning blow to the skull with the weapon in her other hand- a length of wood, Taylor saw. Familiar wood, and she felt her anger rise even more as she realised what it was. Luna let the broken piece of Taylor's staff fall and grabbed Shadow Stalker, spinning her around and pressing the Ward against her as a hostage, taser jammed in the ribs and fingers curling around the throat. Taylor slid to a halt, facing her. Luna grinned.

"I don't know why you bother with her, Mother. She's a rabid animal, better off being put down."

Taylor glared at Luna but kept her guard up: there was something off here, she could tell. Her caution was rewarded: she sensed something moving through the shadows to her left, stalking her. Luna shrugged.

"To be perfectly honest, Mother, this is the death I wanted. Not Triumph, or Vista, but her. Stalker. Your tormentor. Your torturer. This is a favour, Mother, don't you see? In killing her I will free you of your past, let you move on!"

Stalker struggled and Luna pressed the taser in again, closer, holding her still with one arm in a display of strength. Taylor shook her head, throttled back the anger just long enough.

"I won't let you."

Luna kept grinning.

"Dear Mother, sweet Mother. It isn't up to you."

Taylor's stalker burst from the shadows with an incoherent screech and leapt at her and Taylor turned, her hand reaching up and grabbing it by the throat. The clone- a clone of her, she absently realised- rammed fists uselessly into her armour and she reached up her other hand, grabbed the shoulder and swung it around and over, shouting with the effort as she pulled it from the air and crashed it into the ground. It landed with shocking force, head and neck first and bone cracked and Taylor ignored the tendons in her shoulder, torn by the effort and the warp augmentation required to lift something like that and turned to Luna, her injuries already repaired. The right side of her vision coloured crimson for a moment. Time was running out, then.

Luna seemed unphased, though a sigh left her mouth.

"Blunt instruments, Mother. Oh well. If you want Stalker, you can have her!"

Luna shoved Stalker forwards, hurling the girl at Taylor. Taylor awkwardly caught Stalker, staggering a step back as Luna pulled out a gun from somewhere, lifting it and pulling the trigger and Taylor enfolded them both in force, the bullets sinking into the wall of power and halting and Luna had already abandoned the gun, leaping for the top of the crate and pulling herself up. Taylor dropped Sophia and gave a minute to check Armsmaster- he was engaging the two clones with ruthless efficiency- before she returned her attention to Luna. Her clone was posing atop the crate, hands in pockets, hair stirring in the faint breeze. Taylor moved, jumping from the ground and letting the Warp enfold her, carry her to the crate and Luna came to meet her, fists curled and ready.

They exchanged blows with swift ferocity, fists meeting fists and forearms, perfectly matched in speed and skill. Taylor brought her boot down in a stomp only for Luna to shift her foot and dodge, a returning blow at the throat foiled as Taylor dropped her chin and caught it on her helmet and brought a hammering blow from the side, hitting a tilted shoulder in a blow more painful than effective and Luna grabbed her shoulders, Taylor twisting her grip to take Luna by the shoulders in return, the two of them wrestling for control on the edge of the crate, the fall small but enough to stun. Taylor could see the wildness in Luna's expression, teeth bared with effort and Taylor made the first move, breaking her hold to draw closer and wrap her arms around Luna's torso, squeezing to try and crush the life from her clone. Luna gasped, arms folded between them but her legs were free and she hooked a leg around Taylor's, twisted and jerked and the both fell, crashing to the metal, Taylor's bearhug breaking and Taylor twisted, leapt to her feet and a dropkick slammed into her chest and knocked the breath from her. Taylor sailed into empty air, twisted and spun with her power and landed on her feet, sucking in a deep gasp of air made thick with effort. Luna rose to her feet, panting but grimly triumphant.

"Why are you trying so hard, Mother? What drives you to protect someone like Sophia, someone so willing to abuse her power for nothing more than petty thrills? Someone like Armsmaster, a glory hound who's only tolerated for his skill? Why do you do it, what makes you think that you couldn't do a better job? This world would be better with you leading it, we both know it! Why won't you embrace your destiny?"

Luna's voice was hard, the seductively purring edge lost in desperation, an edge of pleading to it. Taylor coughed to clear her throat, the taste of blood in her mouth, before she replied.

"I don't need to answer a murderer. Why did you do it? Why would you kill Browbeat, he was no threat to you!"

Luna laughed, wild and manic.

"Oh Mother, dear mother. You really don't understand, do you? I told them, a Ward would die this night. I always keep my promises!"

The clones' voice rose at the end of her sentence, before she coughed and smiled again.

"But more than that, he was just opportune. Why wouldn't I kill him? He was no threat. You barely know him, you don't care about him. His death means nothing to you…so there was no reason to keep him alive for you to witness it."

Taylor stared at her clone, the anger momentarily wavering under the shocked horror and disbelief. Luna smiled, a pleasant expression marred by the underlying sadism.

"He was just a bit player, a nobody, a side character. His death wouldn't have nearly the impact of someone who you think of as a friend, like Vista, or Kid, or an enemy like Sophia. He didn't matter. So I didn't need him to live."

Luna leaned forwards, an ugly sparkle in her eyes.

"And you know- I was trying to kill Triumph. He just got lucky and I missed. But you know what they say, Mother, you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs. I would say that I did it to try and make you understand, but you just don't, do you? Look at Bakuda. You're so busy trying to play the hero and save everyone, you'd let someone go to wreak more havoc rather than executing them as they deserve!"

Taylor sneered at her clone.

"Kill Bakuda and destroy half the city when her dead-man switch went off?"

"Yes! Yes, destroy half the city, sacrifice in return for avoiding a second sacrifice! You may have powered your way through, but what if Lung had been waiting for you, what if you hadn't been able to defeat Bakuda, what if she had gotten away? You think she would have hesitated to keep implanting bombs in people, keep building more and more bombs, do you think she would have thought for even a second before she built a bomb large enough to wipe whole cities off the map? You've been coasting through the consequences of your decisions thanks to nothing but your power and it won't last, Mother. You'll fail one day, and it will be disastrous. Maybe tonight will teach you that!"

"I'm not going to apologise for trying to avoid killing people." Taylor replied, tone hard and unyielding. Luna laughed, her tone nearly hysterical for a moment before she regained control of herself.

"Tell that to Oni Lee." She replied, softly enough that nobody else could hear it, before she shrugged.

"Keep thinking like that, Mother. When the world ends and you're left alone in the rubble, because you couldn't do what was needed, I'll find you. And I'll be sure to ask you: was it worth it?"

Taylor didn't reply to that and Luna shrugged again.

"Then again, maybe Sophia is right. Maybe you just don't deserve your power, because you're weak. I can see it. You should have just died in the locker."

A breath, a heartbeat of frozen time before it splintered, and Taylor allowed herself to feel again.

She stopped thinking about repercussions and consequences and simply gave herself over to the rage. The world parted before her and she stepped through, into the Warp, phantom needles in every limb and she stepped back into reality and her fist ploughed into the side of Luna's jaw. Luna staggered, her shock clear in her mind and Taylor reached out, latched onto her vest and pulled her into a headbutt. Bones cracked and Taylor drew back her head, hit again and drove in her knee and Luna gagged, bent over and Taylor let her vest go, stepped and curled a hand under her arm, lifted and surged force through her muscles to enhance them and broke Luna's arm. Her clone gasped in pain and wriggled free, throwing a fist at Taylor and Taylor let it bounce off her breastplate and smashed Luna's already broken nose with a vicious, straight blow. Luna wobbled back and Taylor followed, murderously intent and her hand flicked, flames hitting Luna in the chest and spreading and Luna swore aloud, brought her hands up and the flames winked out as her own will fought against the burning and Taylor drove a boot into her chest and watched her topple off the crate. Luna landed hand on her back and Taylor jumped after her, fist closing and surrounded by a wavering, flickering globe of force. Luna rolled aside a moment before Taylor landed, the impact leaving a crater and flinging the clone into the crate and Taylor was on her in an instant, ramming her into the metal and closing hands around her skull.

"Your pain will be legendary." Taylor whispered to her, and she saw Luna's eyes widen in the second before Taylor let the Warp roar through her and manifest as lightning, burning between her hands.

Luna choked and thrashed, trying to fight Taylor as the lightning scorched through her blood and flesh, burning and shocking. Sheer willpower could help resist the forces of the Warp, could blunt the effects, but not entirely defang them. Power was always the final decider and Luna's will, strong as it always was, couldn't match the burning hate and the raging might that fuelled Taylor and the power kept flowing, kept striking, burning Luna alive. Taylor felt her resistance start to break, the agony becoming more like destruction and a smile began to touch her mouth and a body rammed into her and flung her off Luna, hitting the ground hard. Taylor rolled with the impact, making it away from her opponent with a snarl more animal than human and she rolled to her feet, looked up to see a mirror image of herself, eyes blank except for feral hatred, the clone from before somehow recovering from its injuries. It's arm and shoulder were broken, Taylor could see it, but it was too mindless for the pain to halt it. Luna fell to her knees, coughing, but her arm was already healing and her voice was still steady, coarse from damage but coherent.

"You see what I mean, Mother? We aren't so different. We're not like those things that followed me, mere humans. We are beyond them, mother. More than human. What does the life of an ant matter to the anteater?"

Taylor rose with hate and rage, sparks playing about her and flaying off into the darkness. The clone that faced her, a mockery with her face, a pathetic facsimile of an Astartes, lunged forwards. Taylor batted the reaching hands aside and clamped her fingers around its face and felt what it was, a shell without soul. The Warp roared in her, no will in this mindless puppet to stem the slow and fire flared and the clone turned to smoke and cinders in her hands, greasy flakes of ash sloughing off her gloves as she shook them. Luna had risen to her feet, her eyes hard.

"And there it is. All that anger, all that hate. Do you enjoy it, Mother? Do you think it will help you, when you look back on all your mistakes?"

Something in her tone called to Taylor, resonated and her fury crystallised in her chest, turned cold and solid and quiet. For a moment Taylor almost suffocated on it, but then it settled, heavy in her chest.

"No." she admitted quietly. Luna moved towards her, speeding up, jog turning into a run and Taylor sighed, the anger ebbing away and leaving only sorrow and weariness.

"But it can stop you from doing this to anyone else."

Luna leapt, fist drawing back for a blow and the broken staff fragment landed in Taylor's hand, point sharpened with an invisible blade of force and Luna landed on it with the sick, crunching squelch of a blade through flesh. The fist glanced harmlessly off Taylor's helmet and Taylor met Luna's eyes for an instant, a frozen second in eternity, seeing the life ebb from them before she let her clone fall to the ground, the staff fragment still buried in flesh.

"I won't let you be my Horus." Taylor told the fallen body quietly, filled with a strange sorrow, a wistfulness even despite the monster that Luna had been, before she shook it off. She had people to save.

"Circaetus!" Armsmaster called, waving to her. He was even more bloodied than before but he was triumphant, the clones he had been fighting lying slaughtered before him. Taylor started towards him and froze, feeling even more approaching. Armsmaster read her movement, his jaw hardening even further.

"More clones?"

"More clones." Taylor agreed, exhaustion suddenly filling every facet of her being. She as just- so tired. So tired, phantom sensations filling her body with what she knew would be screaming pain if she hadn't made the stupid choice to remove her pain receptors, and a strange itch had begun in her shoulder blades. But she was Circaetus, Hero, and she stood her ground.

"Noelle is coming closer as well." She told Armsmaster in an undertone. He grimaced.

"One of us has to hold her off." He said quietly. A moment of indecision, his ego battling with his fear, and then he nodded.

"I'll do it. A Tinker clone won't be as dangerous as one of yours could be. You need to get these others out, Circaetus. I'm trusting you with this."

Taylor shrugged.

"I'm flattered, but I don't think it's going to matter." She said, waving around and indicating the misshapen forms that emerged from the dark. Armsmaster counted under his breath, letting out a harsh sigh.

"Fifteen. Not insurmountable."

Taylor grinned despite herself.

"I admire your optimism."

The itch in her shoulders was still there, stronger than ever, but she still ignored it as the clones began to close in. Armsmaster sighed again, taking his halberd in both hands.

"Circaetus, it has been an honour."

"Pleasure's all mine."

Taylor let lightning flow down her arms and the night turned white.

Beams of light descended from above, lashing into the clones and hurling them back. One made it through, leaping at Taylor with fist raised and a blur of white and gold slammed into him, hurled him away and Taylor laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Glory Girl grinned at her, floating immaculate in the air.

"Hey, Circ. You need backup or something?"

"Or something." Taylor muttered, smiling despite herself as the rest of New Wave- those flight capable, in any case- dropped down, the clones retreating as fast as possible.

"Glory, I'm glad to see you. You've no idea how glad. But we need to get away, right now, because that cloner thing is on its way and-"

Half the shipping crates behind them went airborne as Noelle crashed through the mess, a storm of metal sailing at them.

"Don't get close to her!" Taylor shouted, spinning on her foot and flinging out her hands. The wave of force that sprang from her palms tore skin and ruptured blood vessels but it caught most of the crates, tossed them away and Glory moved, darting into the air and swatting the few that got past away.

"Circaetus!" Noelle bellowed, her bubbling, gulping voice filling the air. Taylor grimaced.

"Guess we know who gets to run distraction." She noted to Armsmaster. He turned, reached out, but she was already moving and lightning sparked in her hand, boiled the blood in her fingers and struck Noelle in the centre of her mass.

"Over here, bitch." Taylor shouted, and then she was running. Noelle followed her with an incoherent scream, crashing along with horrible speed despite her oozing, undulating motion. Taylor simply bolted, running as fast as she could, the Warp at her back and speeding her along and she wasn't sure how long she could keep it up and the Emperor spoke in her mind.

"Taylor, the containment foam launchers that the PRT Troopers used are still there."

'You think it'll hold her?'

"It was made to hold anything, it should at least delay her."

'Alright, let's do it.'

"Glory, go! I'll be fine!" Taylor shouted, not really expecting to be obeyed but hoping. She sprinted at Noelle, who howled in hate and threshed forwards. Taylor waited until Noelle was committed to lunging at her before she jumped, boosting herself with a telekinetic push and leaping Noelle. She hit the ground running and kept moving, sprinting at full pace as Noelle shrieked in fury and turned to pursue. Taylor skidded around a corner, racing back to the aid post just ahead of the rampaging monster behind her. She was close now, she just needed to get out of the way and-

Her powers failed her. Suddenly pain raced through every nerve, her leg giving way and Taylor toppled. Her powers surged back less than a second later, the fall converting to a roll but she was slowed and Noelle came at her with a triumphant noise, a chorus of howls from things dead or dying. Taylor flung up her hand and a wall of warp-spawned flame blossomed into existence, blocking Noelle. The monster screamed as she burned and the pain came back for an instant, leaving spots across Taylor's vision and a ringing in her ears.

'What's happening?' she managed, rasping even in her head. The Emperor sounded harried when he replied.

"I have been using part of your power to block the pain, but the boost we have is beginning to fail. Your…soul is healing, for want of a better word. We cannot maintain this level of power for much longer."

'Spare me the details for the moment. How long do we have?'

"Perhaps two hours, if we continue to wield it at this rate. After that we will burn ourselves out again."

'Alright. Just keep it up for the moment.' Taylor managed, rising from her kneeling position. She thrust both of her hands out and the wall of fire bent, wrapped around Noelle with hungry, grasping fingers, muffling the shrieking and screaming in its ravenous roar. Taylor looked around her and twisted her fingers, dragging every container of containment foam that she could find to her position before she took a deep breath.

"Alright. Let's get this done."

A wave of her hand, and the fire went out. Noelle screamed and came through, still berserk, tentacles reaching and Taylor plunged her mind into the Warp and watched the future. Noelle was fast, strong, but Taylor could see every move she made before it was even thought of. Taylor moved forwards, dodging and ducking, every slamming blow missing and awry and she dipped under a flailing leg, her hand snapped up and lightning struck the lure on the top and Noelle screeched, reared and Taylor gathered power beneath her and leapt, rocketing past Noelle. She was turning to burst the containers when something wrapped around her leg and she jolted to a halt before the apex of her jump. Taylor looked down, saw the tentacle around her leg and a sudden, unfamiliar fear closed on her heart and Noelle howled in victory as she pulled down and Taylor's power stuttered for a minute and a hand closed around Taylor's waist and pulled her up.

"If you're going to do something then do it!" Glory screamed in her ear. Taylor didn't hesitate.

Her hand flashed out, a thin arc of power whipping from it. The razor-edged blade met grotesque flesh and cleaved through, cutting apart the thick meat in a shower of blood and Taylor's second attack was a wall of force that struck Noelle, knocking her to the ground. The woman atop the monster looked up, her gaze as crazed as everything else, and Taylor clenched her fist and watched as every tank of containment foam around Noelle ruptured. The beast roared in anger and tried to rise but the foam was faster, Glory rising further into the air and Taylor watched as the off-white liquid foamed, expanding and hardening and strangling Noelle in it's clutching grasp, trapping her there.

"Circaetus!" Noelle roared, thick and gurgling and Glory immediately pulled away, carrying them away.

"I can't believe that worked." She said aloud. Taylor chuckled, regretting it as she felt the harshness in her throat.

"No, I couldn't either." She croaked. She blinked, let herself hang for a moment.

"Where are we going?"

"PRT Headquarters. Rendezvous there." Glory said. Taylor nodded.

"Glory? Thanks for coming."

"Any time, Circ."

'You think we can call this a win?' Taylor tried, though even her mental voice seemed unconvinced. The Emperor grunted dourly.

"I think it wasn't entirely a loss, which might be the important thing."

---

The PRT Headquarters was a bustle of movement, a kicked hive of activity when they arrived. Glory set Taylor on the tarmac, floating away as medics rushed across and tried to convince Taylor to submit to tests. She about managed to fend them off, but Armsmaster seemed less likely to be dissuaded.

"Circaetus. Director Piggot requires that you attend a debriefing, now." He told her. Taylor frowned.

"Oh? That important?"

Armsmaster looked grimmer than ever, blood-splattered and tired.

"Given that a Ward has been killed and another may die, very important."

"Wait. Two Wards?" Taylor asked. She knew about Browbeat, but who else? Armsmaster met her gaze levelly.

"Shadow Stalker has been rushed to emergency surgery given her condition on arrival here. Given your history and that both deaths can be attributed to your clone, you can see why your presence would be important for the future."

Had she the time, perhaps, Taylor would have stood and wondered at the rich medley of emotions that filled her then, a potent combination of anger, surprise, disbelief, even a fringe of pleasure, and fear for what this might mean. As it was, she merely sighed.

"Well, if you insist." She allowed. Inwardly, though, she promised herself: Noelle would die for causing this. Taylor would watch her die, even if it took everything she had. That was a certainty.

At least she had managed to rid them of Luna, Taylor drily reflected as she limped after Armsmaster, into the building.

---

Among the crates, lost in the dark, a slow breeze stirred in bloodied golden hair. The figure lay still, wooden pole rammed through the heart with arms loosely clutching at it, eyes closed in death. The hair moved.

Moved.

Moved.

The fingers twitched, slowly closing around the wood.

Blue eyes opened to the night.

---

And that is that. I'm going to scale it back from weekly updates, since I'm struggling to keep to it- I'm going to go to updating every two weeks.

Funny thing- I didn't realise how badly I'd decimated the Protectorate until I checked while writing the next chapter. They're something like 60% down on manpower- hardly a promising sign, I'd say. That's for another chapter though.

As always, I hope you enjoyed and reviews are always appreciated. See you in two weeks.