A/N: I'm not happy with this chapter at all, but I don't have the time to rewrite it and I don't want to put this fic on a month long hiatus, so here you go.

ooOoo

"Who?" I whispered back to Bitch, as she pulled me to cover behind a nearby apartment complex. I could sense all its occupants huddling around inside, fully aware that the Slaughterhouse had come to their doorstep. There were rooms with just one resident, dwelling of two or three, and even families. Most had come together, sometimes in the kitchen, sometimes the bathroom or bedroom, sometimes they were all armed with knives and guns, sometimes just one was, or none of them at all. A few hadn't come together. One couple was oblivious, fucking doggystyle in their bed oblivious to the monsters that had come for them, their daughter trembling and knocking on the door as loudly as she dared. Based on my senses, she was a real looker, but wasted a figure that rivaled Emma's with a trashy outfit.

These people were all dead if we lost, or even won, but too slowly.

"Redhair," said Bitch, describing my next target. "Shit on her face. Tattoos, maybe, or scars or burns or something. Can't tell."

Burnscar. A pyrokinetic who could teleport herself through flames. The things I could do with that power. Still, she'd fall to one good hit. That was unless she'd been modified by Bonesaw.

"Other one looks like one of those dolls they put out in front of stores," said Bitch. "Got a shell. Like a bug."

Mannequin. A tinker who specialized in sustaining life from outside forces. He didn't have the movement or offensive power of Burnscar, but he was probably second only to Siberian in terms of tanking hits, especially since he'd had time to prepare for my geysers.

The plan was obvious. Take out the glass cannon first, then figure out how to squash the tank from a distance.

"Swap with the girl," I told Trickster, stamping the potholed pavement.

"Can't," said Trickster. "She weighs 400 pounds, the other weighs 500. And before you ask, there's nothing I can swap them with either. Here's what we need to do-"

"Swap Everywhere with me once I get in range," said Grue. He didn't give us any time to argue, he was already running, sprinting. I could only assume he'd covered himself in darkness.

"Fuck," said Tattletale. "Fuck, Grue, get back-"

I teleported next to her, and covered her mouth. We couldn't get his attention without alerting the Slaughterhouse as well. Besides, it wasn't a bad plan. Once Burnscar got going she'd be tough to stop, if we could catch her by surprise, finish the fight before it started, all the better.

"It's not," said Tattletale. "Mannequin-"

"Aegis," I said, stamping his muscular chest. Tattletale was right, Mannequin could sense Grue through his darkness. "Get him."

I teleported to the Atlantic, Tats gave me the signal, and I teleported Aegis and Grue back to the Atlantic. I sensed Aegis's suit being shredded by a barrage of bullets. Tats gave me the all clear, and I teleported Aegis back to Brockton to finish the job. He had the presence of mind to scoop up his suit. Another signal from Tattletale, and Aegis was back with me and Grue in the Atlantic.

"Teleport me back," Grue shouted, and shook me. "Teleport me back Taylor! I have to go back! I have to!"

I teleported Aegis back to Brockton. He froze midflight, more signals from Tattletale. A fire. Burnscar had ignited the apartment complex, and Mannequin had retreated. We needed a change in strategies.

"I'm not wasting you," I said.

"I have to be there!" Said Grue, "You don't understand, my sis-"

I teleported back to Brockton Bay, left Grue behind. He'd never forgive me for this. Fine. He'd live.

The air heated up. Burnscar had lit the neighborhood on fire. Civilians who noticed what was happening sprinted for the exits, while the slower ones were trapped by flames that spread with intelligence.

I noticed the girl from earlier left behind, forgotten.

Burnscar flickered in and out of existence inside the apartments. Sensed erratic movement from the people she came close to. They'd been lit on fire. The halls were jammed, too many civilians crammed inside, too scared for an orderly escape, everyone panicked, running, sprinting, even though they were all packed like sardines. One six-year-old pushed to the floor by his panicked older sister, trampled by neighbors so scared they'd lost their masks. Easy to pretend to care about children, about others, when it didn't cost you anything, but in the end, once pressure caused their beautiful masks to crack, their ugly humanity was exposed. People didn't care about others, only themselves.

It was a mess. I'd do what I could to fix it.

I applied a stamp to the apartment complex, and started opening up geysers inside it. Putting out fires, busting down ceilings, opening up new exits. I still had no idea how we could get close to Burnscar through anything other than dumb luck.

"She can teleport through the flames," said Tattletale. "But they all have to be connected. She can't jump from one fire to a separate one."

I put a stamp on Bitch, replacing the one on Aegis. He would have to fend off Mannequin for a bit, until Burnscar was taken care of.

"Lead me," I told Bitch. I put a stamp on my palm, and blasted apart the apartment wall with a geyser. "Fan out, but everyone stays within eyesight of Trickster."

I teleported to the Atlantic stamp. Surveyed the situation from the serenity of the sea, instead of letting myself get distracted by the chaos of the battlefield. I could still sense the families, the children, fleeing and crying, but I didn't have to hear them.

I did my best to ignore Grue's shuddering breaths. He wasn't attacking me, which was good. I guess. That he'd frozen. From an operational standpoint, it was a good thing.

I opened up geysers around the apartment complex, not trying to put out the fire, but section it off. Isolate it into a bunch of small fires. I had a feeling Tattletale was leading Bitch where she needed to go, allowing me to cut the fire in half, then a quarter, then an eighth, as we zeroed in on Burnscar. My Undersiders marched through hallways single file, picking up more and more civilians as we went.

Burnscar flickered in and out of existence more and more quickly, always on the edge of her fires, escaping one section only to get stuck in another, smaller section. Starting to panic now, getting more and more daring about getting within my range and staying there if it meant breaking out of her little cage. She started harassing, popping into existence near a Tattletale, near a Bitch, sending a fireblast at them, and popping out of existence before I retaliated. Finally she made a mistake. Targeted Regent, and he didn't have to dodge. He just made her twitch. Had her send her little fireblast through her feet. It didn't hurt her, but she couldn't escape through it either. Felt the world shift, as Trickster swapped Bitch and Regent.

I teleported next to Bitch, put a stamp on my palm, and shot a geyser at Burnscar which took off her legs. Tried to teleport her to the Atlantic, but she was still too heavy. So I shot off her arms. One. Then a finger. Then half the other. Then the whole thing.

There we go. Now she was light enough. I gave Crawler some company.

Mannequin next.

"Where's Grue?" Asked Bitch.

"We need to support Aegis," said Tattletale. I nodded.

I blew a hole into one of the nearby rooms, flickered inside by stamping the floor, grabbed some keys, stamped them, flickered to the window, blasted it open, threw the keys to the ground below, and teleported down once they'd landed. I was surrounded by a mob of evacuating noncombatants, but neither Aegis or Mannequin were within range.

"Is there anything I can do?" Asked another civilian.

"Yes," I said, turning to face her. "Run."

One look at me- at whatever Crawler's acid had left of my face- and her courage broke. And once a single member of the herd got spooked, they all did. I flickered in and out of existence, weaving past the writhing mass of fleeing civilians. Wherever they were running from, that's where I needed to go. Corpses littered the streets. Good. More tools at my disposal. Trickster could use them to put us just about anywhere.

Mannequin had nailed Aegis to the middle of the road. Securing him with spikes through the hands, feet, and thighs. Mannequin was shaving off bits of Aegis's flesh and depositing them into an opening in his shell. He noticed me, and shoved a knife through Aegis's throat.

I stamped my palm, and blasted Mannequin with a jet of water. He was pushed backwards a couple of feet, but otherwise unaffected. Aegis's neck had been ripped halfway off, but Othala would be able to fix that. Probably.

Mannequin raised his hand, and I flickered ten feet to my left, as a barrage of bullets went flying in the space I'd just been. I flickered left three times more, until he was out of ammo.

I hit him with another geyser, tried to aim it at a joint. It hit. He was pushed backwards a little, but was otherwise unbothered.

I flickered away from another barrage of bullets, and sensed the Undersiders coming to my rescue. Far faster than if they'd taken the stairs. They must've used Clockblocker to build a slide or set of stairs using frozen bed sheets or coats or something. Or maybe Trickster had swapped their positions with some of the people on the streets, that would have been even faster.

Trickster swapped Aegis with a corpse, and Othala was by his side in an instant. I fired a geyser at Mannequin, and it had all the effect of a squirt gun. He ignored the jet, and aimed a palm at the Undersiders. He twitched, and fired his bullets just above them. Thanks Regent. In the second it took him to correct his aim, Clockblocker had put up a frozen bed sheet in front of them.

Miss Militia jumped out from behind the barricade, and smothered Mannequin with a flamethrower. It wasn't a jet of fire, so much as an ignited liquid. Even fifty feet away, I could feel the heat. Mannequin brushed off the blow, and returned fire, drawing closer to the barrier. His steps were slowed by melted tar, the pavement sticking to his feet like syrup.

"Hotter," I screamed, ripping the words from my throat so they could be heard over the inferno and the screams. "Melt him. Melt him! MELT HIM!"

Miss Militia summoned and distributed grenades to the Undersiders, while I slowed Mannequin's advance with more geysers. Tattletale held up three fingers, two, then one, then none. I ended my blasts as the Undersiders darted out from their barricade, and lobbed their grenades at Mannequin. Miss Militia ignited them all at once with her flamethrower, the concrete melting into a highly viscous soup. Mannequin thrashed about inside.

I stamped a nickel, lobbed it over him, teleported above him, blasted him into the liquid concrete with a geyser aimed straight down, teleported back to the Atlantic portal, and then back to Brockton once the nickel had landed.

It was as hot and humid as a sauna, the water from the geysers turning to steam as it resolidified the melted concrete. Mannequin was mostly buried in concrete, but his head peaked out.

A hole opened up near where his mouth would be, and I blasted it with a geyser before he could swamp the area in poison gas. Bitch ran to me, let me wrap an arm around her shoulder, and helped me walk to Mannequin.

"His body is like a bugs," said Tattletale. "We've trapped him, but we haven't done any damage until we've broken through his shell. Our best bet is to have Othala give one of us, probably Miss Militia, superstrength and see if we can bust him open."

"I can handle things from here," said Alexandria, floating down. She put her hands where his ears should have been, ripped him from concrete, and squeezed his head until it popped, drenching us with a spray of warm blood. "You always did need to have your head deflated a bit, Sphere."

I cringed. Alexandria sounded psychotic.

"Eidolon is currently engaged with Glaistig Uaine, and Legend and Siberian are on the way," said Alexandria, gazing down at me. "Based on your scars, I surmise that you've taken care of Crawler. Well done."

"I ran from Glaistig Uaine," I said. "I lost Flechette and Panacea."

"It is a setback. Panacea had potential, but thanks to your mistakes it will never be realized," said Alexandria. She shrugged. "You weren't good enough. I don't have time for your self pity. The rest of the Slaughterhouse is still out there. Will you be a part of the solution, or mope like a child?"

I teleported Grue back to Brockton. He stared at the burning apartment complex. No big outburst, just quiet sobs. I was glad that Crawler had taken my eyes. Didn't have to look at his face. See it broken from my betrayal.

Bitch grabbed my hand, started pulling me. I stamped her sweater and reached out with my senses. The mob was running from something I couldn't sense.

It must have been the Siberian. I teleported Grue back to the Atlantic.

We were running along with a dozen others. Civilians who'd been foolish enough to stick around and watch, instead of running when they'd had the chance. Cars whizzed past us, streaming out of the apartment complex's parking garage. Two crashed into each other. One kept on driving, the other stumbled out of his car, and ran on foot. The truck behind him just ran right over him. Another car wrapped itself around Clockblocker's barricade, blocking traffic, as civilians swarmed over them like ants.

Alexandria and a cape who flew even faster flitted in and out of my senses, dive bombing what was presumably the Siberian projection. I searched for her master, but there were dozens, if not hundreds of people holed up in their apartments. No way to find the projection.

Trickster teleported me at least twice to get me away from the Siberian, swapping me with noncombatants. I couldn't track the Siberian directly, but when a car crumpled up and came rushing towards me, I kinda got the idea that she must've been the one doing it. It didn't hit of course, I teleported me, Bitch, and a random passerby to the Atlantic Portal to keep us from getting crushed. Unfortunately it kept on rolling and crushed a man fleeing on foot.

I started teleporting the humans within my range to the Atlantic and back. Based on the fact that the Siberian hadn't vanished, I hadn't had much luck.

Trickster swapped Bitch into a van, and I teleported in after her.

Tattletale honked the horn. "Meep, meep motherfucker. Catch me if you can!" She flipped off Siberian, stomped on the gas, and made a hairpin turn into a back alley. I yelped, and fell down. It looked like we were hurdling towards a deadend, but Tattletale smashed right through a chainlink fence and drove through a backyard into another back alley, which somehow spurted out into a 4 way intersection where we had right of way.

"Jesus," said Trickster, lighting up a cigarette. "All of this for nothing."

"Can I have a smoke?" Asked Othala.

"It's unprofessional," said Coil. "Tobacco contains over 7000 chemicals, many of which are carcinogenic. Even second hand smoke may be deadly."

"Fuck off," said Clockblocker. "Aren't you supposed to be a supervillain or something?"

"Clockblocker please," said Coil, sounding delighted. "Not everyone knows. You'll ruin the surprise."

I slammed into the driver seat, as Siberian ran a claw through the van's rear. A streak from the sky slammed into the concrete like a meteor, as Alexandria dislodged the Siberian. Our back bumper screeched on the concrete as we sped away.

Trickster lit another cigarette.

"What's the plan?" Asked Alexandria, flying by the window.

"The fuck?"

I stole Trickster's cigarette from his lips, stamped it, and threw it to her. To my surprise, she caught it without so much as a bobble. I frowned. I'd kinda wanted her to drop it so I could keep throwing Trickster's cigarettes at her.

I teleported into her arms. "If the Siberian projection has a range, then forcing her to move will make it easier to spot her master. They're going to have to be in a car or van. Get me close to them, I'll teleport away the people inside, and if the Siberian vanishes we'll know we have them."

Alexandria gave a sharp nod, and passed me off to Legend, who flew us up high.

"What are you doing?"

"Tattletale's power will guide her to a route without traffic," said Legend. "It will be more obvious which automobile is following her if we observe from above. Alexandria will run interference on Siberian's pursuit."

"Wouldn't you be better at that?" I asked. "Alexandria is vulnerable if she gets in too close."

Siberian tossed a truck at the Undersiders' van, but Alexandria flew in front of it, letting the metal shrapnel explode around her.

"I can't catch cars," said Legend.

It was a good plan. Doubly so because it worked. Tattletale took a right, drove straight through three intersections narrowly weaving through oncoming traffic, left, then right, and then straight through. The roads had gotten wider, the apartments giving way to larger houses. The neighborhood felt familiar. Not quite nice enough for a mayor, but still upscale, a place where doctors and principals lived. Or maybe a lawyer.

In my head I knew it had to be strategic. The people in this neighborhood could afford new cars, and one that blended into the Docks would stick out over here. I'd never told Tattletale the specifics of my past, and she wasn't all knowing, she couldn't fuck with me on this level, not while running for her life. But in my gut I knew that this was no coincidence, this was intentional. We would catch Siberian in two blocks. Not one. Not three. Two.

No. I wouldn't let it happen. I was done playing Jack's games.

After one block we'd identified the car the Siberian's Master was driving, a tan Dodge Caravan with a wooden stripe across the side. Alexandria tried to pummel it, but of course the Siberian reappeared on top of the car, making it and her invincible. Legend blasted it with lasers, but that still wasn't enough, the car completely invulnerable. It did start to slide though, and Legend blasted the pavement underneath the car, caved it in, melted it until the Caravan was stuck in a swamp of melted concrete. Alexandria charged forward with a string. Made contact. And suddenly the car wasn't moving anymore.

"Consider yourself clockblocked, old man."

Regent chuckled at Clockblocker's one liner. I didn't get the part about the old man, but it hardly mattered. Siberian's master was pounding on the doors to the car.

"Alexandria," I said. "Get it within ten feet of him. Let's finish this!"

I stamped Legend's mask, and tossed it down to her. She caught it in one motion, barely slowing from her charge to the car. The Siberian jumped up to meet her, but Alexandria fended her off with her left arm. Siberian bit down. Tendons snapped, muscles tore, bones snapped. Alexandria's arm plummeted to the ground

But Alexandria was in range, Legend flew me close, Coil stabbed Othala in the back, put a knife to Tattletale's throat, and pulled off his face…

Shit.

"Jacob," said Alexandria. "How long?"

"Becca, it's always a pleasure," said Jack. "Naturally the first thing I did when I arrived in this fine city was remove your director. I will not play with someone who insists on do overs. And Squirter, Tattletale, don't consider this plagiarism, consider it homage. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery afterall."

"I don't negotiate with terrorists," said Alexandria, blood spurting from her stump. "Everywhere. Manton is in range. Do it."

"Aw, aw, aw," said Jack, putting little cuts on Tattletale's neck. "Mannequin's poison gas is still in place. Should you kill our old friend, I throw the trigger."

"You're a blight to the world," said Alexandria. "Proof of why capes like me are necessary. If I have to sacrifice a city to put you down, I'll sacrifice a city."

"Becca please," said Jack. "You know that I've always admired the PRT. I just want to ask you one question about its formation, and then you'll be free to kill me. I won't fight back or run."

"Everywhere, kill Manton," said Alexandria. "Jacob's blaster power is a front. He can read capes, find and exploit your weaknesses. The only way to beat him is to close your mind. Don't listen to his words."

"This will be a private conversation," said Jack. "Between Becca, myself, and Tattletale. But don't worry, Squirter, I've given you something to do. I've sent some assassins after your father. Danny Hebert."

I went cold as he read off my address.

"This is what he does," said Legend urgently. "Kill Manton, and we can take Jack Slash out right here and now. Kill him, before he wriggles away like he always does and does this to a thousand more people. Make the sacrifice. Become the hero you were always meant to be."

I knew Legend was right. I knew he was right, and I didn't care.

I teleported to the stamp on Alexandria, and flickered away.

I had to save Dad.

ooOoo

"Go," said Jack Slash, as Taylor teleported away. "Give us some privacy, and I promise I won't end another soul in Brockton Bay."

Legend glared down at him, his arms crossed.

"You want more," said Jack Slash, caressing Tattletale's neck with a butcher knife. He shot Alexandria a vulpine smile. "Very well. If you leave the three of us alone, I'll show Tattletale how to kill Leviathan and how to permanently defeat the Endbringers."

"He's lying," said Legend, his voice almost pleading. "He's lying. You know he's lying."

But Tattletale knew Jack wasn't. Not from her power, it never worked on him. From one word. Show. Not tell.

Show.

"Legend," said Alexandria. "Follow Everywhere. Make sure she's safe. She will be important, especially in the event that I am captured. I will be broadcasting our conversation to the pentagon. Even should I perish, the intel gained from the conversation will be secured."

"No," said Legend. "He's playing you. Like he does everyone."

"This is what it was all for," said Alexandria. "All the horrible things we've done. For even the slightest chance to save the world. Jacob has the most powerful thinker power in the world. After all I've done, all my sins, I have no right to turn down this opportunity. No matter the costs."

"He's Jack Slash," said Legend. "An irredeemable psychopath."

"1.34 billion," said Alexandria.

"1.34 billion," said Legend. And in a blue blur he was gone. Clockblocker, Bitch, and Trickster left with him. Not Othala. She'd bled out while they talked.

No healers.

Finally, it was just the three of them, along with perhaps two others. Eidolon and Glaistig Uaine fighting above Brockton Bay's burning skyline.

"So," said Alexandria, touching down in front of him, her left arm a bloody stump. "Your question."

"You're an eager one," said Jack Slash. "Let's not be so quick to climax, we're at the crescendo. Savor it."

"You're stalling," said Alexandria. "Your question?"

"Perhaps," said Jack Slash, pointing at something unseen above the clouds. "If we fight, one of us dies, and Glaistig Uaine sucks us up and replenishes her power. Can you imagine if she defeats Eidolon? I may never be free again."

Alexandria lifted him by the collar. "Your question?"

"Fine, fine," said Jack Slash, putting up his hands. "It's not about the why of the formation of the PRT, I've always known exactly why you created it. But it's about how you felt about it afterwards. If you ever wondered, if you ever realized, but more than anything, Becca, I'd like you to tell me:"