So anyway, I'm a little late. Work is cutting into my writing time more and more, unfortunately, but I'll try to keep up.

I just wanted to quickly address something- or someone, I guess. There's a Guest reviewer who tags their stuff with Guestinator, they've been giving negative reviews on every single chapter. It's a bit impressive, actually, I'm not sure if they've got some weird crush on me or whatever but I have to admire the dedication. Last chapter, though, they pretty much said that Taylor was stupid for not just causing Coil to have a stroke or whatever, so I have to address this. Firstly, Taylor can't affect internal organs unless she's within touching distance. This is explicit in the fic. It was in the chapter before when she healed Vista. Secondly, Taylor was saving all of her power for Noelle so it would be a waste. Thirdly, everyone knows she isn't Manton limited! How can you even begin to think that the Protectorate wouldn't be suspicious when an otherwise healthy middle aged man has a stroke immediately after arguing with the non-Manton telekinetic? And fourthly, Coil is a pre-cog. He would never have been present if he was going to die! I don't mind criticism, but at least spend two seconds thought before you push this out.

Then again, I'm talking to the person whose response to the reviews not showing up a few chapters ago was to assume every single review was negative and thus I had deleted them all. I'm not sure whether to pity or admire that sort of self-centred lunacy. Which leads me to my next point- if you're going to read a review and believe it, at least try to fact check. I got a review saying "I don't know whether you're deleting reviews or not" literally two reviews above a negative review. Fact checking is not hard. Most of you are great, more than great, but I really wish I didn't have to deal with the idiots.

That ranting over, here's the next chapter. As always I hope you'll enjoy and I'll try to update as soon as I can. See you.

Taylor awoke slowly, leisurely, taking her time to blink the sleep from her eyes. For a moment phantom pains ran through her body, but they soon faded in deference to the crick in her neck from sleeping on a chair. She groaned quietly, sliding her boots along the ground until they found purchase enough that she could rise to her feet and crack the pain from her aching neck.

'I feel…you know, I feel pretty good,' she remarked, slightly surprised. She flexed her hands, grimacing as flecks of blood and whatever goo filled Noelle flaked off her.

"Ugh," She said, this time aloud, wrinkling her nose, "This stuff stinks."

"Viscera tends to do that."

Taylor whined a little bit, taking a moment to reach out to the Warp. It was there, indescribably vast and close and she grinned, letting flames flicker around her arms before she extinguished them with a slight force of will.

'Powers all there. Body is fine- better than fine, actually. I think I'm stronger than I was before.'

"While not recommended, breaking your body down and reconstituting it at such a pace seems to have boosted the integration of our physiological alterations. Still minor, but more than they were."

'Happy, happy days.'

Taylor glanced across the room and checked the calendar, more out of habit than anything else. Sunday, the eighth of May. Almost four months since she had bonded with the Emperor, almost two months since making her debut on the cape scene.

'I really hope things don't keep escalating at this rate. I'd like to be legally an adult before I start blowing up continents or something.'

"I miss when I could do that. Did you know that Malcador once put Titan into a pocket dimension of the Warp while he was on Earth?"

'The moon of Saturn, Titan? You know, Malcador had some serious chops.'

"Mm. To protect it- and his Grey Knights- from the traitor fleet as it approached Terra. I've always had my suspicions about that man. He was far stronger than any human should be."

'Says the walking weapon of mass destruction.'

The Emperor laughed.

"Well, that's true enough. But no. The Sigilites were a cult, really. Dedicated to preserving knowledge. And then they all die, and we're left with an unnaturally powerful psyker, calling himself 'The Sigilite', with an expanded lifespan."

'Wait. You think the Sigilites did a- well, did a you?'

"The power Malcador displayed, alongside his ability to remain sane in the face of the birth of the Dark Prince, suggests as much. The creation of a single soul from a mass, ritual suicide…I never asked him about it. I didn't want to…"

'Make it awkward?'

"I suppose that is one way to describe it."

For a moment the briefly treacherous thought that the Emperor might have been jealous that he wouldn't have been unique anymore skimmed across her mind, but Taylor banished it. It wasn't relevant.

Besides, she fully intended to take the day off and that sort of question was in no way conducive to rest. She looked down at her outfit, pouting mournfully at the stains that blackened her coat. She didn't even have a spare.

'I need a washing machine in here. I can't risk washing this in the house now that Dad's a functional human being again.'

"We should look into a way to buy this property, to ensure that we cannot be forced to move by an unlucky sale. A strike on enough criminal operations could give us the funding we need," the Emperor suggested. Taylor shrugged at that.

'Maybe, I guess. But not tonight. I need a few days off.'

As she spoke she let her coat fall to the ground, peeling her armour off and adding it to the pile. The chitinous Ceramite would be easier to wash, but she was considering just throwing out the rest of her clothes. The sweater and long-sleeved t-shirt went next, peeling stickily from her skin with a reluctance that made Taylor cringe and whine.

'So gross. Why did Noelle have to be so gross?'

"Part of the ravening monster aesthetic. You said you intended to take the day off?"

Taylor let her clothes hit the floor, the slightest squelch coming from the faint hint of dampness still in them and nodded.

'Yeah. Not just because I feel like I need it, but because I'm thinking a bit more clearly now. Coil was in on a lot of stuff. We could go after him immediately, but he could have anything extra hanging around. So I'm thinking we drop out of sight for a few days, scope him out properly, maybe even pull a snatch and grab on him in person. Maybe Tattletale knows what his power is, who knows? But the point is, we take it nice and slow and certain until we can catch him off guard, and then we drag him to an empty warehouse and beat him to death and consider it a fun family outing.'

"That does sound like fun," the Emperor admitted, "And it will have the benefit of allowing us to see the lay of the land. Noelle will have repercussions, better to see what they are before we rush forward again."

'Exactly.'

Taylor sighed, standing still for a minute or so before the chill of the basement overcame her.

'Well, no time like the present.'

She lifted her hand, fingers curling into claws and dragging through the air. The walls of reality split before her, slower than they had last night but still yielding, and Taylor smiled.

"Works for me," she noted, stepping into the Warp. A few steps was all it took before she emerged into her bedroom, checking around her from ingrained paranoia. Nothing suspicious, and she could sense her Dad, still asleep. Her stomach chose that moment to rumble threateningly, but her hunger could wait. Showering came first. A quick check that her Dad wasn't around- she was still half-naked and spattered with gore, after all- and then a quick dart into the bathroom and a shower.

Taylor was never going to take being clean for granted again. It was perfection. It was glorious. It was quite possibly the best thing she'd ever experienced.

"Now you're exaggerating."

'Let me have this.'

Taylor left the shower feeling refreshed. It was a brand new day, the faint aches in her body dissipated by warm water, even the faint scratch of her still-damp hair on her shoulders was a pleasant thing, a reminder that she was still alive and kicking. She threw on a pair of pyjamas and headed downstairs, intent on sating the increasing rumbling in her stomach.

'Why am I even so hungry?'

"Transhuman, Taylor. The further through the transformation you go, the more nutrients you will need. There's a very good reason that I included more efficient digestive systems in the Astartes."

'To break down what they eat more efficiently, right. I'm not gonna need to quadruple my food budget am I?'

'Probably not. Not at the moment, at least."

'Cool. Cool, cool.'

Super cool, because Taylor couldn't be bothered to make anything at the moment and all she could see in the cupboard were off-brand honey loops.

'I have never wanted honey loops so bad.'

Bowl. Add loops. Milk. Fetch spoon. Moment of anticipation before-

It was lucky that Taylor was alone in the house, because she would have never lived down the moan she let out when she crammed the first spoonful into her mouth. It was ridiculous, but she was hungry, alright? So what if she went through the first bowl like a rabid animal and poured a second, she deserved it after last night. The Emperor was laughing in the back of her head, the bastard, but Taylor didn't spare the time to send him more that a mental middle finger. Another two bowls, and the ravenous pit in her stomach finally eased enough that she could think like a normal person again.

Taylor made the most of it by blinking at the now empty box like a sad puppy.

'Aww.'

"Evidently you will have to turn your hand to cooking anyway."

'Aww.'

"You've said that already."

'Yeah but I felt like it needed repeating. Toast. I need toast.'

"Or you could make an actual meal like a functioning human being."

'You have unreasonably high expectations of human beings.'

"Sometimes I think so."

Taylor pushed herself up from the table, dropping by the sink to clean her bowl before she turned, observing the room and thoughtfully chewing on her lip. A bowl of fruit caught her eye and she snagged an apple from it, munching as she considered.

'Maybe I should just head out, go to a burger place or something. Fugly Bobs, maybe? I could probably eat their biggest burger.'

"I don't know if you physically have the stomach capacity for that," The Emperor replied, his tone dry and teasing. Taylor laughed.

'Well, there's only one way to find out, right?'

Taylor rubbed her hands together, thinking. Well, it was her day off. No reason not to indulge herself. She was just about to head upstairs and dress when she heard the front door open and her Dad walk in. She could spend a few minutes talking to him, she decided, ignoring the lessened hunger pangs. She wandered through the kitchen, waiting until he walked in and raising her hand.

"Hey, Dad," she said, suddenly awkward and covering it with a smile. Her Dad blinked at her, smiling back. It wasn't quite the beaming expression she remembered from her childhood, but it was a lot better than the wan expressions he had managed over the past- well, the past few years.

"Hey, Taylor. I didn't know you were up- I didn't even hear you come in last night," he said. Taylor rubbed at the back of her head, not needing to try hard to conjure a sheepish expression.

"Yeah, I was with a couple of friends. I got back pretty late," she admitted. Hopefully that would sate his curiosity, even if being out and about until the early hours of the morning wasn't really the behaviour of a well-mannered teen. Her Dad's eyebrows crinkled together, but he didn't reproach her. At least, not too much.

"I wish you'd tell me where you're going, Taylor," he said, quietly, before the frown eased from his brow in a visible effort, "But so long as you're safe. Just try not to worry your old man too much, right? It's not safe out there at night."

And oh boy, wasn't Taylor aware of that. Still, it was nice that he cared. Really cared, not just going through the motions. Maybe the fractional changes she had managed to make before having to forcefully break the block on his mind had added up to something better, and Taylor smiled.

"I'll do my best, Dad," she told him, catching him in a quick hug. He was a tall man, but Taylor was quickly catching up, her accelerated growth adding to her own considerable height. She'd be taller than him soon, she wistfully noted, and bulkier to boot. It was a strange thing to experience, but the bloom of warm affection in her stomach and the answering emotion in her Dad made up for it. She stepped back, smiling at him as she made a quick decision.

"Hey Dad? I, uh, I was gonna head to Fugly Bobs- the burger place? Do you want to come along?"

Her Dad blinked at her and then smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners and mouth turning up.

"I'd love to, Taylor. Tell you what, I'll even pay for it. My treat, for passing all your exams!"

Taylor laughed, even though she blushed a little.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I don't need bribes to pass my exams."

Her Dad smiled at her.

"Doesn't mean you won't get them, Taylor," he told her, before waving a hand at the stairs, "Now go on. I'm not letting you leave the house in pyjamas."

Taylor laughed again, spreading her hands in surrender.

"Alright, Dad. I wouldn't want to go downtown and drive all the old men crazy," she told him, hopping back and walking away. Her Dad snorted with surprised laughter behind her.

"Really, Taylor?"

"I love references!" she called back, laughter in her voice as she all but skipped up the stairs, her heart lighter within her. It didn't take long for her to hunt down some clean clothes and get dressed, her hair swinging loosely around her head. And if she ended up in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, so what? It was her style.

"Is that all you have in your wardrobe?"

'You have no leg to stand on when questioning my fashion, Goldfinger.'

The Emperor laughed, the booming chortle echoing around her head.

"Sounds like you're defensive, Taylor."

Taylor rolled her eyes, leaning into her hiding place under her desk of drawers and finding a small stash of cash, just in case. Better safe than sorry, though she didn't allow paranoia to slow her steps as she went back to the stairs and piled down them, jumping the last three and landing with a grunt of surprise. Floorboards flexed under her and Taylor wobbled, eyes widening before they held.

'I…um.'

"Your bones and muscles are both denser than before, so you weigh more. You might want to be careful with that."

'I…yeah. I don't want to break the house. Actually, speaking of, did the Primarchs ever have that problem?'

The Emperor hummed thoughtfully.

"Not especially. They were all quite in control and were fully grown by the time I met them. Horus had a tendency to break chairs as he was growing, though. It took him quite a few years to get over that problem- he usually solved it by stealing whichever chair I was using."

There was a mixture of wistfulness and sorrow blended into the amusement in the Emperor's tone, though Taylor didn't remark on it. She knew all too well that his feelings on Horus were complex, to say the least. Some questions were better left unasked, so she just nodded and walked forwards again, regaining her balance and glancing guiltily at the bottom of the stairs. Her Dad popped his head out of the living room door, waving at her.

"We'll leave in a moment, Taylor," he told her, vanishing again. Taylor called an acknowledgement and wandered into the kitchen, leaning against the counter to wait.

The whole house was filled with the heavy rapping of fists on the front door, causing Taylor to straighten to her feet with curiosity before her Dad called out that he had it. She returned to her slouched position as he walked across. The door opening and a murmur of conversation running through. Her Dad sounded surprised, confused, she realised, and the door hadn't closed. Her heart beat just a little faster, her fingers curling a little as she pushed off the counter, rising to her full height again. Her Dad came back into the kitchen with a bemused expression on his face, two men in the uniforms of the Brockton Bay Police Department right behind him.

"Dad? What's happening?" Taylor asked, not needing to fake her confusion. The taller of the two men looked at her, his hand resting ominously on the butt of his pistol.

"Taylor Hebert," he announced, hard and flat, "You are under arrest for the murder of Emma and Alan Barnes, and the assault on Zoe Barnes."

Taylor froze.

"What the hell?" her Dad demanded, turning on the officer, his voice rising. The officer ignored him in favour of glaring at Taylor, his eyes fixed, until Danny got in his way.

"What do you mean, you're arresting my daughter? What makes you think you can-"

"We have a witness. Are you going to come quietly?" the officer growled, directing the second half of the sentence towards Taylor.

'No.'

The Emperor growled in the back of her mind, Taylor shaking her head in sheer disbelief.

"She's resisting!" the second officer shouted, drawing his gun. The first man shoved her Dad, hard, her Dad staggering back in surprise. Taylor took the only option she could see.

A hand flicked out and a whip of telekinetic force snapped across the empty space, the air itself glowing with force, the gun slapped brutally from unexpecting fingers with a cry of pain and shock.

"She's a cape!"

The second man brought his gun up and fired but the bullet slid uselessly off a wedge of force that formed before her and Taylor was already on him, her fist driving into his mouth and the snarl etched itself onto her face as he fell back. The second man swung a clumsy punch that Taylor ducked, kicking his legs from under him. She saw her Dad looking at her, wide eyed with shock and dawning horror and a spike of dismay like freezing ice went through her heart but she gave it no time to take root, drawing power around her and forming an illusion.

She vanished from their sight, shattering the window with a twitch of her wrist and retreating to the front room, pressing herself against a wall and trying to calm her rapid, rasping breathing. She heard the cop shouting, her Dad cursing and yelling and the hammer of footsteps as more officers poured into the house, running past and through. Taylor sucked in a breath and flattened herself against the wall, wrapping more power around her and taking stock of her situation, though her mind spun in confusion and despair. More and more officers were arriving, a maelstrom of men hunting a murderer and Taylor realised that she couldn't stay here. She sent a silent apology to her Dad and left the living room, taking the stairs three at a time until she reached her room. A glance at her abandoned clothes, but there wasn't any point in taking them: Taylor sucked in a breath and opened the window, squeezing out and dropping to the floor with the faintest thud that was swallowed by her protective illusion. A skirting movement carried her around the police cordon.

"Taylor. You need to go to your workshop."

'What? Why? It's too close.'

"We cannot afford it to be found. You have to go there and weave an illusion over it, if the police think you are hiding they could well check the house.'

Taylor bit her lip, wrestling with herself before she nodded hastily, running down the road and slipping into her workshop. Every step she took some part of her expected her illusion to fade, cringed at the imagined thought of bullets firing and accusing shouts, but she made it without any harm, finding herself in the protective dimness and shutting the doors. Inside her workshop she slumped against the wall, The Emperor pushed at her, prompting and encouraging and Taylor forced herself to stand up, letting her illusion drift away from herself and anchor to the cellar. She chose what she thought would be the best option, weaving it so that it would appear that the doors were missing and the cellar was empty. It wouldn't hold if any of the police tried to enter, but the basic illusion wouldn't drain her too much so long as it worked, something that could very well be a problem. That done, illusion in place, she staggered over to her chair and sank into it, mind going numb with the repercussions of the accusation.

'Emma is dead. And they said it was me. A clone got out,' she said, her mental voice a thin and thread whisper. The Emperor didn't immediately reply, though she had the impression of a frown in his presence, thoughtful and concerned. Taylor let her head fall, sinking into her hands, her elbows propped on her knees and her bones feeling watery and weak.

'A clone got out. And it went after Emma and her family. It could have gone after Dad, one of them did go after Dad! It was only stopped because…because…'

"Because something stopped it," the Emperor completed, grimly. Taylor closed her eyes, pressing her fingers into her temples and gritting her teeth.

'There was only one clone who had the brainpower to realise that killing Emma would cause me so much trouble, and only one deranged enough to leave Dad alive.'

The Emperor sighed and Taylor felt the weakness in her limbs vanish under a flood of anger.

'Luna could have lived.'

Taylor had barely finished the thought before sheer fury overcame her and she leapt to her feet, the chair spilled across the room as she gave vent to a guttural roar of rage, flinging herself across the room and driving her fist into a wall, the flaring pain of broken knuckles only feeding her rage. A turn, fingers reaching down and closing and she hurled the chair with a twist of her body, splinters flying as she tilted her head back and howled with savage hate, the scream dragging at her breath until it finally reached an end, petering out with the rage still there, her fingers curling into a fist that she slammed onto the table, scattering odds and ends. The Warp raged and howled inside her, tendrils of electricity sparking and writhing along her form, embers sloughing off her fingers as she called upon the twisting power of the nether without any conscious thought, the itching in her shoulders returning stronger and stronger-

Taylor's renewed howl of anger jarred higher as pain tore through her back, her shoulder blades suddenly blazing with agony, a brief moment of absolute pain before it faded and Taylor fell forwards, arms flailing and the anger choked away. She crashed into the table and fell to the floor, stinging needles along her back and- and in something else. Taylor pushed herself back up and twisted around, spinning on the spot.

Something dragged across the table and scattered knick-knacks everywhere, Taylor swearing in surprise and slamming to a halt. She stretched awkwardly, forcing herself to stay completely still as she reached around her back, suddenly realising that she could feel something there. Something under her control.

"Are you kidding me." Taylor whispered, her voice raspy from her screams and deadened by surprise. She reached back and winced as her questing fingers closed on something that protested under the grip, bending and moving regardless.

Under her fingers, a crimson wing slowly bent around her arm. Taylor stared in complete bafflement.

"A…a wing?" she said, too surprised to keep her monologue internal. She let go and suddenly realised that the wing was moving with her thoughts, flexing and twisting. A gust of wind send her stumbling slightly, a particularly strong flex catching her off-guard.

"A wing?" she demanded, louder this time, her rasping voice defying the odds to become shriller with indignation.

"Why do I have wings?"

The Emperor cleared his throat, loudly. Taylor jumped at the sound, wings beating without thought and slamming her into the roof. She swore in pain and surprise, dropping back down into a crumpled heap.

'Oh, fuck a duck. How is this my life now?'

"Calm down, Taylor."

'Calm- calm down?! I have wings! Big, feathery, red wings! How am I supposed to hide these?! How am I supposed to FIT THROUGH DOORS?!'

"Calm down, Taylor!"

The Emperor raised his voice this time, the booming sound echoing through her skull. Taylor dragged in a ragged breath, sinking to her knees, then another. Tears pricked unbidden at her eyes, her chest tight and aching with anger and despair. The Emperor lowered his voice, quieter and more comforting as Taylor fought to catch herself, the events of the past day weighing heavily on her.

"Taylor. Be calm, and look again. These wings that have formed are not purely biological."

Taylor dragged an arm over her face, an angry motion to cuff away incipient tears, and took another deep breath. The Emperor was there, powerful and soothing, and she took another deep breath and felt the tightness in her chest loosen. Carefully she manipulated her right wing, the new limb awkward and clumsily unfamiliar, until she could see it. Crimson feathers gleamed starkly in the faint light of her workshop, but the Emperor was right. They were too red, too pronounced, too…alien. Too perfect. Taylor reached across, slowly running her fingers across stiff feathers, and felt the power within.

'They…they aren't flesh. Or they're flesh, but not real. They're more like a…a construct.'

"Among the more refined Librarians of the Blood Angels," the Emperor began, his tone solemn and thoughtful, "It was far from unusual to be able to manifest a pair of wings, built in the image of their father. Glowing and strong, a memory forged of sorrow and pride. I sometimes wondered if it was only that memory that allowed it, or if they had simply stumbled upon some before unconsidered field of Biomancy."

Taylor closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm. She reached out to the Warp, feeling it coil and writhe, a slow pulse beating in time with the universe. She had rarely allowed herself to feel it like this before, but it was…soothing. The Realm of Dreams, gentle in a way that even the Emperor had never known. Now that she was paying attention she could feel it, the slender threads of power that ran along the wings like veins, feeding power throughout the construct. A frown crossed her brow unbidden as she gently tugged on those strings, pulling them away and peeling them from the wings.

A gentle breath of wind rustled her and the wings faded away, surrounding her in glimmering motes of energy. Taylor felt her throat tighten and her eyes well up, emotion filling her chest in remembrance of the dead but the moment passed like rain on the wind, melting away to leave only a memory. Taylor blinked the incipient tears from her eyes, cleared her throat and sighed.

'Well that was a thing,' she noted, the faintest taste of regret lingering on her tongue. The Emperor replied only with a murmuring hum, the faintest noise of breath whispering through lips, Taylor letting him remain quiet as she rubbed at her shoulder. There was still a sensation there, the promise of wings flaring behind her, but she left it for the moment. She hardly had the time to learn to fly and fight with two extra, unwieldy limbs. No, maybe she could try, so long as- footsteps. Footsteps, quietly echoing through the house, and Taylor ascended the stairs, pressed herself to the wall and wished for a weapon. Two men, she saw, peering at her illusion. Police. They looked confident, wandering in here- that was the sort of thing that could really come back to haunt them in the future.

"You really think she's in here?" one of them asked, his expression sour as he scraped a show along the ground. It was slightly rotten there, Taylor knew. A floorboard giving way under years of neglect and a little damp from the leaking window just above. If she owned the house, she would have put effort into fixing it. As it was, it added to the protective air of dilapidation around the house.

"She might have stuck around. Being a Para, that's the sort of thing that spreads fast," the second policeman said. A harsh laugh came from his throat.

"They're never so confident once they can't hide behind their masks."

"That's a bit much," the first man interjected. The second hawked in his throat and spat at the ground.

"My cousin was in the Empire, thought he was a cool rebel. She broke his leg. He's still in hospital. Maybe getting the Lightstar treatment is what she needs, fucking renegades. They're criminals like all the rest."

Taylor curled her fingers, carefully husbanding the rage in her heart at the insinuations. She would crucify Kaiser and his entire pack of cronies if they hurt her Dad, she vowed. She almost began with the two before her, but they were already leaving.

"She's not there, though. Must have run further than we thought."

"You really think she'll get properly outed? PRT will want to cover it up."

"Cover up a double murder? Nah. She'll get her just desserts, and good riddance."

Taylor listened to the voices fading, clenching her jaw in silence. The Emperor made no comment, but she could feel his distaste mingling with hers, enough that she stepped slowly back into the cellar and took a deep breath. Fury sparked tart on her breath, her face tilting up before she let it burn through her, cleansing and crackling. The reek of ozone filled the air as lightning surged over her frame, lashing towards the walls and only just controlled enough to avoid damaging anything useful, the scream that left her throat low and whispering, a hoarse noise that built and built until a sudden force flared in her shoulders and the whispering howl was cut off by a noise of startlement as the force of her unfolding wings flung her from her feet. She smacked into the rack holding her power armour, bouncing off and crashing to the ground in an undignified heap, her blazing anger dissipated by the indignant shock.

"What the blue blazes?" she demanded, too surprised to swear. A squeak of pain left her throat as her roll snagged a wing and yanked several feathers on her armour, driving her to spring to her feet and spin around, almost losing her balance as she did so.

'What even is my life now.'

"Fascinating. It would seem that when you draw deeply enough on the Warp, rather than manifesting some kind of aura you grow wings."

A pause.

"Either that or you've been drinking far too much Red Bull."

Taylor groaned, not just from the pins-and-needles that raced across her wings as her missing feathers regrew. She tried not to address the terrible joke, instead rubbing at her collarbone and flexing her arms.

'Well, I guess I'll have to learn to live with it,' she grumbled, 'Though it's a nuisance.'

She paused for thought, still rubbing idly at her chest.

'We need more information,' she reluctantly concluded. Her usual contact was- well, hopefully functional again. There was only one way to find out, so Taylor found her cell phone under a desk and fired off a text. The reply came quicker than she expected- a time and a place. Late in the night. A hospital. Taylor narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, considering the chances of being trapped before deciding that it was worthwhile. It wasn't like her situation could get much worse, she admitted. But until the given time she had nothing to do but wait. Nothing, unless…her eyes drifted across her power armour, so very nearly finished, and a smile curled across her lips. Well, it would be a distraction at least.

It was still drizzling when Taylor sneaked through the dark towards the meeting point. Brockton General Hospital had seen better days- like the whole city, really- but it was intact enough. Bland, concrete design, some good old sixties misery that Taylor tried to ignore as she scaled the building, carefully keeping an illusion wrapped around her to hide her glittering, blood-red wings. She was trying to stay stealthy, even if her white and gold armour was less than ideal for that task- she could have hidden that too, of course, but she was trying to conserve power and so she limited herself to masking the presence of her wings.

Her coat was in no condition to be worn, unfortunately, so she had improvised a sort of poncho from some canvas she had found lying around. It flapped awkwardly in the wind and would probably tear if she was forced to fight, but it was better than nothing, her wings pressed tightly against her back in an attempt to reduce the wind resistance. Her paranoia in advancing from such an unusual angle was probably unwarranted, but better that that to end up trapped. She reached the top of the building, having scaled it by way of jumping or climbing up the structure roof by roof, and peeked over the ledge. A single figure stood under an umbrella, her other arm in a cast. Her leg was in a cast too, and Taylor winced at her insensitivity in demanding Tattletale get up to help her. Still, she extended her senses enough to check that there was no-one else around before she crawled onto the roof and approached Tattletale.

"Hey," she said, watching as Tattletale twitched. A faint laugh rose in her throat, but she smothered it before it could rise.

"You could have given me a heart-attack," Tattletale complained, but she was smiling. Taylor offered her a half-bow.

"I live to shock. How are you? And- Grue, right? How is he?"

Tattletale lost her smile, her expression turning hard and dark before she caught it.

"Grue. Fractured skull in several places, some more broken bones. He'll live, somehow managed to avoid any brain damage, but he's going to be healing for a while. Especially as Panacea won't be ready to heal for a few weeks after her concussion. Regent didn't make it. I've got two broken fingers, an incompletely healed broken leg and a fractured arm."

"I'm sorry," Taylor offered, not sure what else to say. Tattletale pursed her lips.

"Not your fault," she muttered. Taylor stepped forwards, calling her power around her to shield them from the rain. The water splashed invisibly against a transparent shield of power, drifting away and around them as Taylor reached out and gently took Tattletale by the arm. She reached into the Warp, calling on enough power to feel it tingling in her bones. Gently she fed it into Tattletale, knitting bone together without regard for natural processes, dampening the pain around the healing bones as she did so. Tattletale gasped, wide eyes looking at her, and Taylor let her go and tilted her head.

"Not entirely healed, but more. Consider it an apology," she told the other girl, wondering if she should wander down to Grue and do the same. Maybe, she told herself. Maybe. She forced her wings to break apart, not even the faintest glimmer on the rain as she stepped back, although she kept the shield around them.

"I daresay you can guess what I called you for," Taylor said, turning to glance across the rain-veiled city. Tattletale took a breath behind her, a slow sigh that Taylor took as acknowledgement.

"The police came to your house. I overhead Dauntless talking about it," she said. Taylor folded her arms across her chest.

"Dauntless, huh? How is he?"

"Minor injuries, he's in hospital for observation. I think he's got some experience with crime so Chevalier came to talk to him."

Taylor grunted in understanding, waiting. Tattletale cleared her throat.

"The Barnes family were attacked yesterday. Alan Barnes was stabbed to death, his wife severely injured. The daughter- the daughter had her heart cut out."

Taylor winced. Tattletale didn't cease her recitation, her tone flat.

"The murders were committed early this morning- maybe three? Dauntless wasn't sure, although he was certain of one thing."

"It couldn't have been me," Taylor interrupted quietly, "Because I was fighting Noelle when it happened."

Tattletale nodded.

"Yep. And the good bets are that once the forensic crew do their job, they aren't going to find hair matching yours in the house. None of your clones had your hair colour, right?"

"Not that I noticed. But I can't sit around and wait until it's all sorted. Who knows what shenanigans are afoot."

"What a turn of phrase you have. You think something could go wrong?" Tattletale murmured. Taylor looked steadily at her.

"You tell me. I'm sure you're more up to date with the kids than I am."

Tattletale shrugged.

"I've been paying attention, yes. You haven't been outed that badly, but I'd say everyone who's interested in the Bay knows that Taylor Hebert is a Cape. The police weren't subtle and the neighbours weren't blind."

Taylor stuffed her hands into her pockets, hunching her shoulders.

"They don't know I'm Circaetus?"

"I don't think so. The connection isn't immediately easy to make, so the Empire and the ABB might be looking to recruit you. I doubt it, though."

"Yeah, a Jewish sounding surname ain't what the Empire looks for in a recruit. Still, can't believe I got outed because the cops got called on me and I panicked. Probably could've just talked my way out afterwards, even if I had to call on the PRT to pick me up and bail me out, nice and quiet.."

Tattletale shifted her shoulders and Taylor narrowed her eyes, fixing her gaze onto the Undersider before she turned away again, sweeping her gaze across the city and trying to focus.

"It would have been possible, right? I could have talked my way out and avoided being outed, because the PRT would have swooped in and pulled me out?"

"That's not really how it works," Tattletale said quietly. Taylor laughed a little bit as she turned around, aware that the wry smile on her face had frozen into something murderous and unhinged, her hands coming out from her pockets. Good thing she had decided to stick to her helmet.

"Excuse me?"

Tattletale looked uncomfortable for a second- then again, Taylor was aware that her moods were changeable, so to speak. Tattletale could probably read everything about her moods and temper from her body language. Taylor would have been nervous in her position.

"The PRT makes sure to keep an eye on the police, Circaetus. The PRT don't give out villain names, but they keep track of them as best they can, just in case- there's a whole department dedicated to making sure that the police don't accidentally send a squad out to try and arrest Hookwolf or someone for shoplifting in their civilian identity."

Taylor sniffed thoughtfully, rubbing her fingers together and buying time to master her anger, taking it by the scruff and forcing it down.

"Huh. So that means that my name should have been on their desk. So either someone didn't send my name through, or someone didn't pick my name up. It could have been a coincidence, I guess."

Tattletale shook her head.

"They heard your name. Even if it's only been a few hours, your name should have been flagged, anyone with your first name should have been flagged and from what I can tell, that department is one of the few actually competent parts of the PRT. Someone didn't check the data, or the PRT ignored it."

Taylor rubbed her hands together, palm to palm, the monotonous movement helping to focus her thoughts and suppress the resurgent anger into something colder, sharper. Something more directed and directable. She laughed again, simply for want of something else to do.

"They set me up," Taylor said, letting her smile return to her face, relax into something more natural if equally threatening. It would have been lost on anyone else, hidden by the helmet, but…Tattletale nodded hastily.

"Yeah, that's my guess. You and the PRT as well."

"The PRT as- ah. Of course. It's going to make the PRT look incompetent, because they've got a clone of me running around. My clones aren't going to cover their faces, so the mugshot on the warning is going to be mine. Meaning that they're going to have to announce that it isn't me. And when they're asked how they know that…"

"They're going to have to say 'Because Taylor Hebert, Circaetus, was fighting an A-Class threat alongside us when the murder was carried out'. Announcing a cape identity like that is going to make them look like they've failed somewhere along the line, and the other option isn't really an option at all."

Taylor carefully pulled her hands apart and tucked them into her pockets, pacing.

"Always a chance that they orchestrated it to try and wrangle me into the Wards, but I doubt it. They'd like me, no doubt, but we're working together already. If they did try that and I found out that's it, no more cooperation. I don't think the PRT here are that short sighted. Nah, it's probably a distraction."

Her voice was very calm and level, the anger pushed down somewhere deep, into a reserve of hate to call upon whenever she needed it. Taylor took a deep breath, her helmet suddenly feeling stifling, but she didn't take the headgear off. She didn't feel safe to, somehow. Tattletale hummed quietly.

"Coil," she said, softly. Taylor ceased her pacing, hunching her shoulders as Tattletale continued.

"Coil has good reason to want you and the PRT distracted, and he has someone in the PRT. Making their leadership look weak has always been one of his objectives, it's part of why he funded the Undersiders in the first place."

"That bastard. He's a real nuisance, you know that? But he'll get his," Taylor muttered. She tapped her foot against the ground, closing her eyes and forcing the anger away, calming herself by pure force of will.

"And speaking of Coil."

Tattletale looked at her, meeting her mask as Taylor turned and opened her eyes.

"You know what his power is, don't you?"

Tattletale's expression didn't change, but her thoughts betrayed her. Taylor grinned humourlessly.

"A mercenary I squeezed some answers out of told me that he flipped a coin and got heads every time," she began, stepping closer to Tattletale and looming over the shorter girl, "But that isn't quite it, is it?"

Tattletale didn't back down, even with Taylor closer.

"No," she admitted, "It isn't."

Taylor waited, watching as Tattletale licked her lips and weighed her options before she spoke.

"He's precognitive. I've worked out that much…something to do with diverging timelines, I think. He doesn't let me see him much, he's too careful."

"Diverging timelines," Taylor murmured.

'That's like our precognition, right? We see what should happen and then we can change it?'

"On a base level, yes. It doesn't help us a great deal, but at least we know that if we can catch him alone we will likely have an advantage."

"So when he flipped the coins, he didn't call heads every time. He called it right every time," Taylor surmised. Tattletale nodded.

"I saw him do it, it's what tipped me off. He used his precognition to work out what it was, to give the impression of manipulating probability or something I suppose. It works well with his caution."

"Yeah, I can see that," Taylor muttered, thinking and still close to Tattletale. She let out a quiet hum, lifting one hand to lean against the wall behind Tattletale, keeping the other girl pinned. Easier to keep her there, in case Tattletale decided to run for it.

"You know," Taylor began, "When we first started this, I kinda thought I was some sort of white knight. You know? Saving the poor girl from her life of criminality. But I've started to realise, over the months, that ain't it. Right?"

"You haven't actually asked a question," Tattletale told her, meeting her gaze. Taylor chuckled.

"Suppose not. You aren't really interested in going good, are you? No, if I had to guess, you're hoping to take over Coil's operation when I take him down."

"When?" Tattletale murmured, a smile on her lips. Taylor grinned, leaning even closer.

"When, darling. But you haven't answered."

That small, demure smile was still on Tattletale's lips when she shrugged.

"I suppose so. So, are you going to drag me in? Take it away from me?"

Taylor let the silene stretch for a moment, let them both acknowledge what they knew.

"No," she said, stepping back and letting Tattletale have her personal space back, "I don't think I will."

She took a few more steps back, turning to look over Brockton. The city lights glittered in the dim fog of the whispering rainfall, but Taylor wasn't really looking at that. She shrugged again, lifting her hands in a helpless motion.

"When I started out, I really believed it would be easy. Take out the gangs, I thought, and it'll be all good. The people will pull it together, the city will start to heal, I'll be able to move on and leave utopia in my wake."

"Not quite that easy, is it?"

Taylor laughed, short and bitter.

"No. No, I realised that when the Merchants collapsed and two more gangs immediately replaced them. Like fighting a hydra."

"The Boston Games," Tattletale said quietly. Taylor turned to look at her.

"Pardon?"

Tattletale smiled slightly.

"The Boston Games was the name they gave to the aftermath of the Boston PRT getting serious and kicking out all the gangs. They put in the effort, forced them all out, and a whole load of other gangs moved in. Turned into an all-out gang war on the streets."

"Which is exactly what would happen here even if I ploughed through the gangs and left them in ruins. My point exactly. But I can't just sit around and play reaction, running off Lung or Kaiser and then doing nothing. Just sit here, waiting for an Endbringer to rock up and break everything."

Tattletale was looking down, but it didn't hide the smirk she was wearing.

"You think that you need to prop up one gang, in order to safely get rid of the others. Better the devil you know, right? And Kaiser's already made you an offer…"

"Fuck Kaiser," Taylor snapped, fingers clenching, "And fuck his off-brand KKK!"

A pause and a deep breath, calming herself.

"No, I'm not going to have the Nazis, of all people, running my city. But Lung isn't the type to play by the rules, and Coil- well, let's say that I've got a few bones to pick with Coil."

"And a few bones to pluck from him," the Emperor rumbled. Taylor grinned darkly, hidden by her helmet.

"So he's a no-go. But we both know that you've got bigger ambitions than a small-time gang like the Undersiders, no matter how fond of them you are. Right?"

Tattletale didn't reply, but her smile seemed a little less concrete. More like a mask to hide what she was thinking, and Taylor nodded knowingly.

"Right," she said, "Of course I'm right. And Coil is just the greatest chance, yeah? He rarely meets face to face and his gang are all paid, no loyalty there. It'd be pretty useful if someone was willing to take him out of the equation."

Tattletale tilted her head back up, the corner of her mouth twisting up and turning the smile into something more wry.

"You almost sound like you're suggesting I could take over," she said. Taylor shrugged, finding it in herself to play just a little more.

"All I'm saying is that it's going to be a free-for-all when Coil gets what's coming to him. A clever girl could gain a lot."

Tattletale laughed quietly.

"You know, you could give up the whole hero gig. Join the Undersiders. We'd be great together," she said, sliding closer to Taylor. Taylor gasped in pretend outrage, bringing a dramatic hand up to rest on her breastplate.

"Such boldness, Tattletale. At least buy me dinner first."

Tattletale snickered as Taylor stepped away, laughing and shaking her head before sobering.

"Keep your ears open, Tattletale. It shouldn't be long but- you never know with someone like Coil."

Tattletale gave her a quick smile and half a wave.

"I'll make sure to save a reservation for you," she remarked, completely deadpan. Taylor chuckled deep in her throat, just before she let her illusion drop, her wings flaring behind her and catching the breeze of the Warp, relishing the choked gasp of surprise that Tattletale let out as she soared into the darkening skies.

Taylor found a place among the clouds, wrapping herself in a bubble of protective force to keep out the cold. After a second of thought, she draped herself in a camouflaging illusion again- she bore very little resemblance to the Simurgh, but there was no accounting for stupidity and she'd rather not provoke a panic. No, she just wanted to stay here, in the sky, with freedom to think.

'Tattletale seemed to be in good spirits,' she noted, letting herself drift with the wind. Her wings didn't bother to beat: they weren't the thing actually keeping her aloft, just an expression of power being channelled. Strange as it was, a smile drifted across her face at her newfound freedom, and she pulled off her helmet to relish the breeze, letting it drift on a tendril of telekinetic power. The Emperor let her float for a moment before he replied.

"Her acting skills are impressive."

'You think she was acting? I didn't want to pry, really.'

"I don't have your qualms. She was pleased to see you, true, but she was mourning the loss of her friend and the injury of the other. And she was frightened."

'Coil showed that he was willing to unleash that thing on the city, regardless of her being in his way. I'd be afraid if the man who basically had me on a leash had demonstrated a whole lot of insanity in very little time.'

"Always possible. Regardless, she was likely relieved to have someone to distract her. And the promise of power didn't hurt."

'Hmm.' Taylor murmured, leaning back. Her wings tilted, back until she lost her centre of balance and yelped in panic as she spun in mid air, the world blurring sickeningly around her until she managed to regain her balance, arms flung out and wobbling.

'Whoa. That wasn't pleasant.'

"Sanguinius always made it look so easy."

Taylor wobbled in the air and took a minute to make sure she didn't vomit, waiting until her centre of balance returned.

'Yeah, that was a rush. Not sure I can call this combat ready.'

"At least you realised before going into combat," the Emperor replied, amused. Taylor tutted at him, rolling her eyes.

'Yeah, yeah. I know.'

She let herself at again, folding her arms across her chest and frowning down at the city. It was quite beautiful from here, she thought, the fog and cloud giving the lights of the city an ethereal quality.

'Did I do the right thing?'

"You'll have to be more specific," the Emperor told her. She maintained her silence, unamused, until he huffed quietly.

"It is impossible to know what was right until you can look back upon it. But in this case, I think you did. You were right, we cannot bring this city peace with our current methods. The criminals are too persistent, too numerous. Elevating one force, one that we can control and manipulate, is the path I would have taken."

'I don't think we can manipulate Tattletale. She's clever, and sneaky.'

"But she has no real reason to go against us. So long as we are allied, she will prosper. A shadow empire, controlling and controlled. A better choice than anarchy by far."

Taylor slowly tilted, rocking back and flipping upside down. The blood rushed to her head, but she managed to maintain her position rather than spinning hopelessly. She started to dizzy quickly, turning herself back upright.

'I know that it might have been our best choice, but I still hate it. I hate compromising, giving in. I hate feeling like I've given up some moral to do this. I'm giving Tattletale license to run an organisation that'll rob, murder, kidnap, probably traffic arms and drugs, and no matter why I'm doing it I hate it. I feel…dirty.'

The Emperor said nothing, though Taylor could feel his sympathy as she sank into brooding. How she could have done better. How she had failed to end up here. She was only brought out of her funk when the Emperor spoke again, his tone an obvious attempt to snap her out of her mood.

"The last time I was in close contact with this much angst, Corvus and Mortarion were holding a poetry slam."

Taylor didn't really know what to say to that, other than the obvious.

'Who won?''

"Konrad. I don't think he even knew about it beforehand, he just walked in at the end and improvised. Either that or Alpharius was using him as cover to disguise the fact that he was stealing his brother's work and improving it."

Taylor laughed aloud, caught off-guard by the sheer ridiculousness of it. The Emperor chuckled with her, his amusement at the memory warm and comforting.

'That sounds like Alpharius.'

"He had his moments," the Emperor murmured, before his tone turned solemn.

"It was a valuable moment, one that I still treasure. A moment for my children to be who they were, rather than warlords and warriors. Lives cast away for the peace and the future I saw."

Taylor flexed her wings, slowly pirouetting in the air.

'It wasn't your fault.'

The Emperor laughed, soft and bitter.

"Oh, it was. Of course it was. I didn't see how they were breaking, didn't realise how fragile they were. Didn't see that all my support wasn't enough for Perturabo, that in saving Mortarion I had damned him, that Konrad was slipping deeper and deeper into madness. I should have insisted that Mortarion return to Terra and have his breathing treated, should have made sure that Magnus was taught at least the basics of the Warp, should have offered Perturabo more than empty words and promises. I made more mistakes than I can count with them. I do not intend to do the same here."

Taylor set her jaw, shaking her head.

'You won't. I won't let you. And when we're done here, we'll find a way back to your universe, and we'll knock sense into them all. Rebuild the Imperium better than it ever was, drag the Primarchs back to sanity, save them all. I know we will."

The Emperor sighed, a softly exhaled chuckle at the end.

"Don't make promises you'll never be able to keep, Taylor."

Taylor snorted, letting her helmet drop into her hand before she slid it over her head.

"You should have realised by now that I'm never going to do that. But that one- that one I'll keep. But this world first."

"This world first," agreed the Emperor, and together they dropped from the clouds.

It wasn't hard to find one of Coils mercenaries, now that Taylor knew what she was looking for. She had taken the location of Coil's base directly from his mind, slid it free with such delicacy that he would never realise. Plans, entrances, locations, even the escape tunnel- all of that knowledge was hers. She didn't intend to waste it. Coil was a tricky one, but she was certain that she could find a way to clip his wings, so to speak. And the key would be his men.

Coil, of course, couldn't run his underground base alone. While he was wary, he needed men, and so a half dozen of his most loyal mercenaries worked alongside him, serving his needs. He tried his best to keep them isolated from the others, in order to better hide his base. He did his utmost to work through middle-men and cut-outs, to hide his last bolthole.

Against Taylor's power, it wasn't enough. Even mercenaries had to eat, had to leave their base. It was that need that led to Taylor trailing a woman down a street and through an alleyway in the dead of night, cloaked by a protective veil of power that hid her from prying eyes. Taylor drew in a breath and expanded the illusion across the whole alley, clearing her throat.

"Hey."

The mercenary turned on her heel, hand flashing down to her waist and drawing a knife with lightning speed. Taylor raised a hand and trapped her against a wall with an enfolding wall of power, leaving the woman kicking and spitting in impotent rage as she closed.

"Hello there," Taylor said, smiling behind her helmet as she approached, "I've been waiting for one of you to come out."

The woman snarled at her, spitting a glob of phlegm that caught in the forcefield and dribbled on her chin. Taylor raised an amused eyebrow, still stalking closer.

"Aren't you defiant?" she asked, making sure to fill her tone with her humour. The mercenary laughed, coarse and harsh, and Taylor tilted her head.

"Something funny?"

"You," the mercenary rasped, "You think you're frightening? You think you can scare me into talking? You won't find shit."

Taylor shrugged, palms spread dramatically.

"That's not very nice. You know, you're awfully confident. I'm supposed to be terrifying, you know?"

The mercenary howled with laughter as Taylor grew closer, her teeth bared and her eyes wild.

"Terrifying? You don't know anything!"

"Enlighten me," Taylor murmured, bringing her hand up to drag her fingers against the forcefield. The mercenary tried to snap at her fingers and Taylor chuckled.

"You- you aren't frightening. Circaetus was frightening to idiots. But we know who you are. You're just a girl, a child! Nobody's afraid of Taylor Hebert!"

Taylor sighed in a breath, the air cold in her nostrils before she reached through the forcefield and took the mercenary by the jaw, forcing the woman to look at her.

For all her brave talk, there was fear in the womans' eyes. Taylor smiled.

"You say nobody's afraid of Taylor Hebert? Well, that's your mistake," she leaned closer, until her mask was almost pressing against flesh, "Because you should be terrified."

Taylor soared across the city, feeling the wind in her wings and the threads of power still linking her to the mercenary she had caught. It was something that she had only considered doing before, a mixture of what she had done to her Dad and to Raijin. The mercenary was the same as she had been before, memory erased, and a thread of power tying her to Taylor. An inextricable link. Before it would have been useless for anything other than finding the woman again. Now that she could stride into the Warp and teleport…

Taylor laughed aloud, tipping a wing and spinning herself in a tightly whipping circle before she regained her straight flight, grinning in pure exhilaration. A few more mercenaries to catch and she would have her way in, and the mercenaries would be so easy to exploit and eliminate. Victory in sight and an enemy who would be caught off guard, what more could one ask of life?

"What is greatest in life?" asked the Emperor, coaxing another laugh from Taylor.

'Not sure the whole quote applies, but I'll certainly enjoy seeing Coil crushed before me. I wonder what he hoped to achieve by outing me? Some kind of petty revenge?'

"I have said it before, but I believe Coil to be the sort of man who enjoys seeing his enemies humbled before him. He doubtless wanted to force you into his service by threatening your father."

Taylor let her wings catch the wind and spin her back to an upright position, flexing her armoured hands as her poncho whipped around her.

'Yeah. That sounds about right. Bit of a shame that he's underestimated me, he might have been useful if it wasn't for his…personality.'

"Personalities can be changed."

Taylor hummed aloud, considering that.

'True, true. But I think we can save that for someone more useful than Coil.'

"A valid argument."

Taylor hovered in the air, the rain having died away for the moment. She chewed on her lip, thinking.

'Maybe I should go and find Dad. Try to explain to him.'

"If you are willing to risk the police who will likely still be there. But that isn't why you're hesitating, is it?"

'Why don't you tell me, since you obviously know?' Taylor waspishly responded, before she clicked her tongue.

'Sorry. That wasn't needed. I just- I can trick the police. I can trick PRT Troopers, or Heroes. I can beat down villain. But my Dad is- he won't- he won't understand. He won't understand what I'm doing, why I'm doing it. He'll be devastated. And neither of us handles that sort of thing well.'

Taylor was well aware that she had a temper. More pertinently, she was well aware of which parent she had inherited it from. If tempers flared then- better to just say that it could get unpleasant and leave it at that. That was something to leave until she had the time, preferably. It made her chest ache to think of leaving her Dad without telling him, but it was for the best.

If only she could convince herself of that.

Taylor looked down, trying to distract herself, and spied a figure walking onto a rooftop. She tilted her head, frowning at it- whoever it was had taken a set of stairs onto a flat roof, but she should probably go and check on them. Who knew what could be going on?

She stubbornly told herself that it wasn't just a selfish distraction as she swooped down, her illusion hiding her as she landed, her boots crunching faintly on gravel. The figure was a kid, a boy. Well, that might not be fair- he was probably about her age, but she reserved the right to call him a kid if she wanted. He was heavy-set, about as tall as she herself was, with thick blonde hair. Taylor briefly wondered what he was doing here- this was a nicer part of the city, relatively speaking, and he had the look of someone reasonably well off. His mind didn't quite reflect that, though. There was a despondency there, so Taylor decided that she might as well do some more meddling before she set off to find more of Coils' mercenaries.

"Hey, kid. Whatcha doing up here?" she asked cheerfully, popping up behind him. The kid yelped aloud and jumped, spinning into a rough defensive posture. Taylor swallowed her laughter, smiling under her helmet and raising her hands.

"Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to startle you," she told him, eyeing the distance between the kid and the edge of the building. She didn't think he might jump off to try and escape her, but this city was a madhouse. She wouldn't put it past him.

"Circaetus! What are you doing here?" he stammered. Taylor shrugged.

"Well, I was flying past," she began, only to be interrupted.

"Flying?"

Taylor let her wings spread from behind her, knowing that they would be glowing even in the night.

"Flying," she confirmed, before she spread her hands to match, "And I saw you wandering over here, looking down. And since being a hero means also being a meddling busybody, I thought I'd drop down and say hi."

"Um."

Yeah, definitely a kid. And she'd probably made the right decision too, the kid seemed like he needed someone to vent to. Not that she was really qualified to give good life advice, but she was reasonably sure she could sit and nod at the appropriate points.

Reasonably. But it looked like she might have to be the one to get the ball rolling.

"So, this is usually the point where you say 'Hi, my name is' and then I make a Slim Shady joke or something. You know. To break the ice. I mean if you prefer we can not break the ice. I'm not the Titanic, I don't have problems with that. It's just, you know, uh, traditional," Taylor rambled, not really sure where she was going.

"Yes, a Titanic joke in your first meeting. I can already hear wedding bells."

'You should rename yourself Cegorach, you're about as funny as he is.'

"That, I shall take as a compliment."

Ridiculous as she was, it seemed to work to put the kid at ease. A smile crept onto his face and he nodded and held out a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Circaetus. I'm Theo."

Taylor gently shook his hand before she walked past him, heading to the edge of the building and kneeling down. A warm gauntlet of fire encased her hand, directed and shaped by her will, and the warm quickly dried out the brickwork enough that she could take a seat, her legs kicking into the nothingness. Taylor sat down and folded her wings behind her, swinging her legs like a little girl at the park.

"It's nice to meet you too, Theo," she called over her shoulder, waiting. After a minute or so Theo came and sat next to her, not too close. Taylor glanced at him as he carefully manoeuvred himself into a sitting position, chuckling under her breath.

"Don't worry," she told him, "I won't let you fall."

Theo carefully sat down, face a little pale and fingers squeezing on the stone before he made a conscious effort to relax. Taylor smiled under her helmet, tilting her head back to look up at the stars. The clouds had faded for the moment, the night sky an opaque blanket sprinkled with glittering motes.

"A nice night," she noted, "Although I don't think you're out here for the stars, right?"

Theo didn't say anything in response, so she shrugged.

"Then again, I know what it's like to want some solitude."

Theo cleared his throat, quietly.

"I don't mind you being here," he said, his voice subdued but sincere. Taylor nodded, leaning back until she was awkwardly lying on the gravel, an annoyed huff leaving her throat as her wings squashed awkwardly under her. It didn't hurt, but it was annoying enough that she sat up again. Still she said nothing, content to wait for Theo to start talking. A few minutes passed in silence that slowly grew more companionable, stretching quietly out before he broke the stillness.

"Do you mind me asking," he said, hesitantly, "Why you became a hero?"

"Starting with the hard questions, huh?" Taylor asked, tilting her head to look at him. He flushed slightly but she waved her hand.

"Sure. No problem. So, I guess you could say that it all started years ago. I always wanted to be a Hero, you know? Armsmaster underwear, Alexandria lunchbox, all that crap. Who doesn't want to be a hero, right? So, about three years ago, my Mom died in a car-crash, starting the downward spiral. And then off I went to high school with my best friend and everything started going- well, it started getting worse."

Theo looked uncomfortable.

"If it's private, I don't want to-"

Taylor waved her hand again, cutting him off.

"Nah, don't worry. I've been outed anyway, not like I can hide it anymore."

"Outed?" Theo asked, his eyes widening. Taylor nodded absently.

"Murderous clones are a bitch, I'll tell you that for free. But where were we? Oh, right. My best friend. Anyway, she got new friends and decided I was beneath her, right? So like any sensible ex-best friend, she got right down to the bullying. So that was all pretty traumatic, right up until about, eh, January? My ex-bestie got a bunch of shit together- tampons and shit- filled up my locker and shoved me in. Didn't even have the decency to shove my head into the toilet and flush it to build up. Just…straight to it. So it would be fair, shall we say, to say that I snapped. Boom pop pow and I have superpowers. Just like that."

Taylor turned her head to look at him. Theo looked faintly green- she felt a pinprick of guilt for dumping all this on him but hey, sharing trauma was therapeutic, right?

"Sharing trauma is not therapeutic unless you have a long-established relationship, Taylor."

'Oops. Well, we're doing it now.'

"So I blew my way out of the locker, all mad and Carrie styling. And I was tempted- real tempted- to go and find Emma and pull her spine out. But then I…I didn't."

Taylor slowly leaned forwards and put her chin in her hand, thinking.

"I wasn't struck by some grand ambition. I didn't feel the breath of destiny upon my back, I wasn't overcome with horror at the thought of what I might do. I just…I wanted to prove to her that I was better. I wanted to stand at the pinnacle of Capes and look down at her and say: 'Look. Look what I have become, without you.' I became a hero on a childhood dream and pure selfishness."

Taylor laughed, quietly.

"It probably sounds ridiculous to you. Becoming a hero out of spite? But as I've gone on- as I've fought, and bled, and won and lost I've started to realise it's not about me. It's about the city. It's about the people, about making things better. Every woman I save from a mugging or a rape, every time I save someone from death, every time I push back the gangs and try to make things a little safer I think- I've done something good. Every tiny victory is another thing for people to cling to. Every time I stand against the darkness, I hope someone else is inspired. I started this for selfishness and spite and I haven't left those behind yet. But every day I hope to become a better person, and I hope that I can be someone people look up to. That's why I'm a hero now. Because even if I'm not a good person, that doesn't mean I can't do good. That doesn't mean I can't make the world better, even if I have to drag it up one step at a time."

Taylor was surprised to hear the words that came out of her. She hadn't really thought about it, but- it was true, wasn't it? She could have waited in quiet, building her power and her influence until she could emerge one day, striking down the Parasite and saving humanity. But that wasn't enough. Not just to satisfy her adrenaline rush, satiate her boredom, but she wanted to make a difference. To make things better. No matter what it took.

Theo was staring at her and she rubbed at the back of her head in embarrassment.

"Too much?" she asked bashfully. He shook his head slowly, Taylor tilting her head in quizzical reply.

"No, I- wow," he said, "I just didn't expect you to be so passionate. I…um, I didn't tell you my second name, right? It's Anders. I'm Theo Anders."

'Holy fruitballs. You think he's-"

"You can only ask."

"Anders as in Max Anders? The Pharmaceutical guy?"

Theo nodded. Taylor whistled through her teeth. The kid was Kaisers' son. Yeah, that was a whole load of thing. But then, it looked like he wasn't interested in following in Daddy's footsteps. He was stressed, and he'd asked her why she was a hero…huh. Tale as old as time.

"That must put some pressure on you," she commented, lacing her tone with sympathy. Theo looked down, but Taylor caught a flash of his thoughts. His father, disappointed that he hadn't Triggered. Well, Taylor supposed that she could see that, a king would want an heir. But it was still a dick move.

"Everyone expects me to follow in his footsteps," Theo admitted, his thoughts betraying his struggle with what he wanted to say. He was wavering, Taylor thought, part of him wanting to reveal his father to Taylor in the hopes that she could do something about it and the other part- oh. Purity? Now that was interesting. Purity hadn't been out and about in a while and Kaiser said she had split from the Empire. Put a whole new spin on the old tale of a nasty divorce.

"But I don't want to be my Dad come again. I want to be my own man. I want to- I don't know. I just don't want to be like my Dad," Theo admitted, slumping. Taylor almost reached across to him in alarm, thinking he might be about to slip, but she steadied himself. Taylor sighed.

"Families are hard," she stated, her tone thoughtful. "I don't think my Dad is going to be too happy about the whole Cape thing. But- blood is important, but you are too. You can't let people hold you down, and that shouldn't change for family. But it's not that easy, is it?"

Theo shook his head, quietly.

"I don't want to leave my stepmother," he admitted, "And some of my Dads- the people he knows are alright. But I can't be what he wants me to be."

"We never can." Taylor said quietly, gazing over the city. She glanced at him, wanting to try to give him advice but- what would really work with Kaiser? What help could she give him without giving away the fact that she knew who Kaiser was? Just wing it, Taylor decided.

"Well, I'm not really qualified to give life advice," she said, "But I'm willing to lend an ear. Not for long, though, I'll need both back if I'm to look presentable."

Theo let out a startled laugh and Taylor grinned. Step one: try to break him out of his funk. Complete, maybe. Now all she had to do was give actual advice.

"I don't think I can really do anything," he told her, his gaze turning over the city again, "He just wants me to be a copy of him. He's always at work and when he gets back he's just…disappointed in me."

"What about your step-mom?" Taylor gently prompted. Theo shrugged.

"They've broken up," he said, tone heavy with irony, "And I'm not sure she likes me anyway. Tolerance is better than him, though. I think she might try to get me away from him but, well, I don't know."

He set his jaw.

"I won't let him wear me down, though. I won't become another Ka- my father."

'Almost.'

"The poor boy would be mortified."

'Mortified, or relieved? Maybe I should just offer to knock his Dads teeth out.'

"While I'm sure he would appreciate it, I doubt he would take you up on the offer."

"Your Dad sounds like a real piece of work, you know? You want me to knock his teeth out? I offer a very reasonable rate for extortion and violence," Taylor said, putting her smile into her voice. Theo coughed in surprise and took a while to reply- Taylor genuinely thought he might go for it for a moment.

"No, I- I don't think that would help," he eventually said. Taylor pouted but didn't say anything, shaking her head.

"If you say so. Isn't there somewhere you can go to get away from him? A friends' house or something?"

From the way his shoulders hunched Taylor immediately knew that she had put her foot squarely in her mouth.

"No, I guess not. Shoulda seen that coming, with a dick like your Dad," she mumbled. She sighed, glancing up at him.

"He's not too into the concept of friends, right?"

Theo shook his head.

"His…co-workers come over, some of them are ok, but…"

"It ain't the same, right? There's no loneliness like loneliness among people."

He looked surprised and Taylor let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"Best friend bullied me, remember? I was about as popular as a fart in an elevator."

Theo smiled a bit, obviously putting in effort for it. Taylor appreciated it- he was a nice boy, even with the fucked-up role models in his life.

"Alright, tell you what," she said, making her mind up, "Your Dad can get bent. You, Theo Anders, are my friend now."

Theo choked on air, looking at her with bulging eyes. Taylor grinned triumphantly.

'Another minion, mwa-ha-ha-hah!'

"I must be becoming jaded, I can't find any concern over what you're doing."

'Hey! You're just as bad as I am, you're just better at hiding it!'

"If that is what you keep telling yourself."

"Anyway," Taylor said, forcing her full attention back to the boy sat a short distance from her, "We just agreed that your Dad drives away all your friends, and my friends are- well, Glory, I guess. So. We- are now friends. Just like that. And if your Dad tries to drive me away I'll throw him off a roof."

"You're my best friend already." Theo dryly told her. Taylor beamed.

"Oh, we are going to get along famously. Seriously though, I mean it. You need someone to talk to, give me a call and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. You do have a mobile, right?"

Theo ruffled through his pockets and produced a mobile, holding it up with a bright smile.

"Got it," he told her, sudden enthusiasm lighting him up. Taylor gave him a thumbs up.

"Nice, nice. Now then…assuming my phone is here somewhere- there we go!"

The two of them exchanged numbers quickly, leaving Theo smiling at the bizarre turn of events. Taylor pulled herself to her feet and helped him stand, the boy still a little unsteady on the roof edge.

"So, there we go," Taylor said, brushing at the dirt on her trousers, "If your Dad's being a dick, or you need someone to chat to, or you just want to bounce homework questions off someone, I'll be there. Unless I'm in a fight or something, which is kinda likely, but I'll do my best."

Theo still seemed a little bit in shock, but he nodded.

"I- ok. Ok, Circaetus. Thanks," he told her, quietly. Taylor patted him gingerly on the shoulder.

"No problem, kid. I'm supposed to be a Hero, right? What better way to meddle than this?"

Theo offered her a slightly shy smile, Taylor giving him an energetic thumbs up in response.

"Now go on home and don't cause any trouble, you hear?" she told him, putting on a corny accent purely for her own amusement. Theo seemed lost, but he got it soon enough.

"Yessir, Mr officer," he replied. Taylor clapped him on the shoulder and headed back to the edge, turning to spread her wings. Theo waved shyly and she grinned, bringing her right hand up to her mouth in the classic telephone gesture.

"Call me!" she called over, the usual effect somewhat lost under her mask as she tipped backwards and let her wings catch the wind, waving to an awestruck Theo as she soared past.

'He seems like a nice kid.'

"And taking the chance to snatch him from under Kaiser's nose isn't a part of your decision?"

'Well, being a hero has to have little perks, right? What's the point if you can't mess with the bad guys and pretend you're clueless?'

The Emperor merely laughed.

Several hours later, with a couple of muggings prevented and only two muggings of her own carried out- Coil's mercenaries really were paranoid, though it was probably justified in this case- Taylor returned to her lair. She wasn't sleepy yet, but she didn't want to be wandering around in the daylight and she supposed she could get some work done. Before that, though, she fired up her salvaged PC and hit the 'net, navigating her way to PHO. The forums were abuzz as always, although it amused her to see that the one bandying her name about was close to being overtaken by the frenzied thread about sightings of her and her new wings. That was fun, although…

"Brockton's' Red Angel," she read, the smile dropping from her face at the memories, "I was hoping that wouldn't come up."

Regret pressed in her breast, borrowed and not hers but still raw, fresh and bleeding. The Emperor, however, did not waver when he spoke.

"You should take the name. Redeem it," he told her, but she could hear the raw pain and sorrow in his tone. Taylor slowly leaned back on her chair, taking careful breaths that felt icy against the throbbing, constricting chains in her chest.

'Some things are better left forgotten,' she quietly argued. The Emperor made a soft, tired noise of affirmation, but his last words whispered through her head, quiet in the dark.

"Even here, my mistakes hound my footsteps. How long will I remember them?"

Taylor glanced back, catching a faint sight of her wings, glowing soft and bloody in the dimness, and a thought crawled unbidden across her mind.

'I wonder which mistakes of mine will follow me through eternity?'

She had an unpleasant suspicion that there were already more than she would ever like.