(Wraith/Taylor)

Taylor's memory of the events began just over two years ago. Although she didn't particularly like remembering them, she would never forget the day it all started.

It all started with her and Emma. After school finished for the week, her mother picked them up, planning to drop Taylor off to stay at Emma's for the weekend. But then Emma said something stupid, and Taylor refused to leave the car. It was a childish tantrum, nothing more.

Eventually, her mother begrudgingly gave in, deciding to take Taylor home the long way, hoping to coax some information out of her. It had been a small fight that would likely be forgotten by morning… except her mother had pulled out her phone, intending to text Emma's parents to apologise. In doing so, she had stopped looking at the road.

What happened next was a blur. The few times Taylor had asked about it, her father had been evasive. It wasn't until nearly a year later, 9 months into her cape career, that she snuck into the local BBPD station to get a copy of the police report.

By all rights, she should have died in that crash. Everyone else—her mother and the three occupants of the other car—had all died. There had been hope for one other passenger, Sophie Hess. She had survived the crash, suffering only a mild head injury. However, due to unknown causes, Hess's condition worsened in the hospital. The doctors noted that it was as if her very life was being drained away.

The day Hess died—down to the exact minute—Taylor had suddenly woke up, disoriented and unable to keep herself solid. The first thing she did upon waking was Ghost straight through her bed and then through the floor soon after, dropping into another patient's room. The doctors simply chalked it up to a case of confused wandering when Taylor claimed not to know how she'd ended up there. Taylor was thankful there were no cameras between her room and the stairs to show she never left the room nor used the stairs to descend.

Once she was stabilised, her father was called. He had been dragging himself to work every day, practically burying himself in it, unable to face the possibility of losing both his wife and daughter in such a short time. By the time he arrived, Taylor had fallen back asleep.

Her first clear memory after the crash was of her father violently shaking her awake, demanding to know why she was in the car, why she wasn't at Emma's, why her mother had taken that route home, why she had been on her phone—why, why, why.

Taylor couldn't answer him before security had to pull him off her. He had been hysterical, accusing her. Blaming her.

And he was right. It was her fault. The doctors nearly shouted at her when she admitted this, insisting she was just a child and that her mother should have known better. And her idiot of a father was simply speaking from grief.

Taylor had spent nearly an extra week in the hospital. Begrudgingly, they allowed her father to take her home, but only after they made him speak to some CPS agents regarding his outburst.

She would have rather stayed in Brockton Bay General if she were honest. Her father never blamed her again, mainly because he barely spoke to her for nearly a month. Even Emma seemed distant. Apparently, her father had said something mean to Emma's father, Alan, and Taylor wasn't allowed to see her anymore, even at school. In the end, Taylor grew tired of being ignored and decided to get his—or anyone's—attention another way.

A few weeks later, she overheard her father arguing with the medical insurance agency. Since her mother had been deemed at fault for the crash, they refused to pay for Taylor's medical bills. Her father had spent an hour cursing Med-hall's name before darkly joking, "Well, on the bright side, there's no one from the other car left alive to sue us."

Taylor gasped when she heard this. Her father, at least, had the decency to look ashamed upon realising what he had said. Lately, however, he has always looked ashamed when he looks at her—if he looked at her at all.

Still, that had helped Taylor figure out how she could earn his approval: money. He needed it, and she had a way to get it. After all, there wasn't a bank in the world that could stop someone who could walk through walls.

She wasn't planning to steal from a bank—not yet. Instead, she aimed for Med-hall. To get the money they were owed. In hindsight, it wasn't the best plan. Med-hall mainly dealt in illiquid assets—although being 11 years old at the time, she had no idea what that meant. Her simple plan was to sneak into the Med-hall offices in the dead of night and steal anything valuable. She had imagined a grand vault on the top floor, filled with gold, money, diamonds, and other treasures.

It was a childish idea, but the first made sense to her in weeks, making her feel like she was taking Control. As she planned, she felt power surge through her veins—not just for the thrill of the heist but a more profound sense of rightness. She wasn't just stealing. She was fixing it! Fixing the damage she'd caused, fixing the emptiness she had inside.

It was her first heist… she remembered it like it was yesterday.

—————

(Taylor)

1:01 AM. Her watch read. If she was lucky, she had maybe 5-6 hours before her father would wake up for work—unless he woke up early like he often did now. But she couldn't wait any longer. Her excitement was bubbling over, the thrill gnawing at her. It was now or never.

With a quick breath, she Ghosted through the wall into his bedroom. Her head poked out first, dark eyes scanning the room.

Her father's soft snores reached her ears in the dark, so she went to leave. However, her gaze froze on the empty spot beside him in the bed, still neatly made from when her mother had last used it. She quickly ducked back out of the room and calmed herself. After a moment, she opened her eyes, grabbing the few items she was bringing, neatly laid on her bed.

A black backpack to store her loot, a drink bottle with her favourite juice, some snacks, a pair of woollen gloves in case it got cold, and an old screwdriver—everything one might need for a mission into a high-security office building.

With an affirmative nod, she tucked her 'tools' into her bag before Ghosting herself through the floor, down into her living room, landing with a slight thud, and then Ghosting out through the front door.

"Ooo," Taylor exclaimed to herself, rubbing her hands together. She felt the harsh midnight air through the gaps in her old Halloween costume: a black hooded cloak and, beneath that, a thick woollen jacket styled to look like fantasy armour. The look was completed by one of her mother's old black scarves wrapped around her mouth and nose a few times. She had to adjust it again to ensure she wasn't fogging her glasses.

She moved forward with a smile, almost skipping, before hopping off the step and staring at the full moon. With a nervous smile, she reached the end of the driveway before, with a quick glance back at the house, she took a big calming breath… and vanished

Even with the enhanced speed her shadow form provided and her ability to simply go directly towards her destination, it still took over an hour to cross the city; the Med-hall building was the tallest around, so it was hard to miss. Frankly, she was glad it was; she'd never been to this part of the city on foot before, or at least alone, and she'd be lost otherwise; part of her wondered how she'd find her way home, but that was something she'd figure out later.

"Bah! Fuck you, you stupid slut", a slurred voice interrupted her thoughts, and Taylor paused on a nearby roof, idly glancing about; a dishevelled man was staggering back and forth in the middle of the road, shouting at a woman, all Taylor could think about was how the scantily dressed woman wasn't shivering in the cold. She must have been freezing.

"Maybe if you brought some fucking money, I'd have actually sucked ya dick, but your broke, smelly ass spent it all on booze, now get the fuck outa my face", The woman responded, her tone harsh

Taylor idly wondered what a dick was, a type of ice-pop, maybe? But it was too cold for one; she then thought about other types of foods that you needed to suck. Lollipops, candy? Her rumination was interrupted as the man angrily yelled and threw the bottle at the woman.

"Ahh," the woman cried out, now drenched in liquor and broken glass" you! are you fucking stupid! Do you have any idea who I work for? The Empire own this whole fucking city; we'll have your fucking head for this!" The woman screamed as she retreated away; the man meanwhile laughed as he stumbled down the middle of the road, headless of any potential dangers.

Taylor was starting to see why her parents would never let her stay out after dark, but she put the scene behind her and continued to Med-Hall, only a few blocks away.

Upon her arrival, stopping in a nearby alleyway, the first thing Taylor noticed was just how big the building was; it was one thing to see it from a distance as part of the city skyline but another to be at the base of it. She felt small—or smaller, at least. Emma had lightly teased her about her height once, but her mother said she was simply due for a growth spurt. That one day, she'd tower above everyone.

She pushed the thoughts of Emma and her mother to the back of her mind as she slowly circled the building, looking for an entrance. She immediately dismissed the front, spotting a pair of security guards chatting at a desk in the lobby, but soon found a less grand entrance around the side, a sign reading "staff only" above the door. She smiled as she dashed forward, Ghosting through the door with ease.

Taylor first noticed how clean the building was, even cleaner than the hospital. In fact, it felt eerily sterile, as though everything was designed to be too perfect. The second thing she noticed was that whoever was supposed to guard the entrance was doing a terrible job—evidenced by the empty chair in the small security booth. Above it, a sign reads: This station must manned at all times. She smiled to herself before Ghosting down the corridor.

But soon, she stopped, staring at what appeared to be a map or level guide.

"Floor 10, IT department… No. Hmm, floor 23, human resources… I guess that's where they keep the spare blood? Mmm, floor 31, finances—oh, that means money! I think," Taylor muttered, scanning the various floors and their uses. She didn't understand most of them, but the top floor simply said, "Penthouse." She remembered a boastful kid at school claiming that the building was high enough to touch the stars, but she doubted he'd been up there himself to check. Maybe she'd check for him.

She began to climb the stairs, her shadowy form gliding upward. When she reached the third floor, she had to stop for a quick breather—going up in her ghostly state was harder than she thought. She thought about taking the elevator momentarily, but the small screen by the door showed it was currently on floor 40. The top floor, She sighed, deciding it wasn't worth waiting for. After a quick drink from her bottle, she continued her ascent, pausing only to avoid the occasional patrolling guard.

Soon, she was on the 10th floor, the IT department. She had no idea what "IT" even stood for, but figured there was no harm in poking around before she left; needless to say, she was disappointed to see it looked exactly like the other floors. A quick snack and a drink later, she glanced at her watch.

"2:15," it read. Better keep moving.

Fifteen minutes later, Taylor was on the 23rd floor, wandering the deserted hallways, searching for something of value. For nearly 30 minutes, she scoured the floor—every office, every drawer. What did she find? A single 20 bill wedged behind the cushions of a break room couch. Taylor soon sat on said couch, grumbling and snacking in frustration.

Had she mixed up the floors? Or did "finances" not actually mean money? She sat in thought for a few minutes, munching away.

"Maybe this wasn't such a great idea," she muttered, feeling defeated. Part of her wanted to just leave and go home to bed. At least it wasn't a school night.

But she couldn't let herself back out now. Maybe the Penthouse had something worthwhile? She tossed her snack wrapper into a nearby bin, steeling herself before returning to the stairs.

Then she heard a voice.

"I don't see anything, Control. You sure this is the right floor?" a deep voice asked, the guard's footsteps nearing the stairwell.

"I swear if this is some kind of joke, I'm coming down there and shoving my foot up your ass," the gruff man added, his voice dripping with annoyance. The light from a flashlight scanned the area as the man drew closer. Taylor ducked behind a desk and covered her mouth, her heart hammering in her chest.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then, the silence shattered with a long, exhausted sigh.

"...Forget this. There's no one here. I don't care that you saw some ghostly Wraith floating about on camera. You've been spending too much time on PHO," the voice muttered, the flashlight beam disappearing.

Taylor allowed herself to breathe again, hearing the footsteps fade away ever so slightly. That was too close.

Almost on reflex, she reached for her bottle, trying to calm herself, but her fingers slipped as she went to take a drink. The half-full bottle clattered loudly against the floor with a hollow thunk, echoing in the silent room like a gunshot. She watched helplessly as it rolled away.

The man's footsteps stopped. The flashlight beam immediately swung back, trailing the bottle as it rolled.

Frankly, it almost seemed comical.

Without thinking, Taylor shot forward, grabbed the bottle, and Ghosted straight through the floor. She heard a muffled exclamation of shock from the man above before the concrete swallowed it.

For a split second, she fell, but then her form came to an abrupt halt, slamming into a desk. The impact dazed her, and she groaned.

"Ow," she whimpered softly, rubbing her head. But her rest didn't last long. Shouting echoed around her, and she scrambled to her feet, eyes darting around. She spotted a set of stairs and dashed toward them, her heart racing.

As she Ghosted through the door, panic surged through her. More voices. Flashlights. Her breaths came in short bursts as she looked down the stairwell and saw half a dozen guards with lights charging up the stairs from various floors. Her heart skipped a beat.

And then, out of nowhere, a bright light flashed directly in front of her.

"Freeze! I've got 'em!" a voice yelled.

Taylor bolted, Ghosting again faster than she had ever moved before. She shot past the man, hearing the faintest sound of his surprise, but she didn't stop. She kept running, her footsteps silent on the stairs as she ascended higher and higher. The voices behind her began to fade as she outpaced them, but she was getting close to the top, and the pressure was mounting.

Dead end!

She skidded to a halt at the top of the staircase, staring momentarily at the ceiling and then at the door. The number 40 hung above it, and her pulse surged with nervous energy.

Behind her, the shouting grew louder.

She Ghosted through the door.

Instantly, everything behind her was muffled, the sound of footsteps and voices fading away. Taylor collapsed against the door, her knees buckling beneath her as she gasped for air, her chest heaving. Her heart jumped more as someone tried to open the door, though it remained blissfully closed.

"-Not thorough here. Good thing this door was locked. The scoundrel must've entered one of the lower floors. Now come on, Anders will have our heads if they get away with whatever they stole from finances, fucking cooperate espionage," a muffled voice said from the other side.

Taylor held her breath, trying to still her shaking hands. Slowly, she closed her eyes and focused on slowing her heartbeat.

Cooperate what? She didn't do that; all she took was 20. Why would this Anders care so much about 20 anyway? It's not like she could have stolen anything else of value there; believe her, she looked.

Speaking, or rather thinking, of looking, Taylor forced her eyes open, her breath shaky as she warily scanned the floor she was on. It didn't feel like an office; it felt more like a house—a museum, maybe. She slowly climbed to her feet, her gaze drifting over the space. The walls were adorned with expensive artwork, ancient relics sat on stands, and jewels glittered under the soft light. She wondered if someone knew how much it had cost Med-Hall for all this stuff; half of it looked priceless!

She wandered, her fingers brushing against objects that caught her eye. Some were old and intricate, others glimmered with strange foreign beauty. Eventually, her eyes fell on a large desk in the corner by a window that offered a stunning view of the city below. The desk was sleek and modern, with a laptop and five neat bundles of cash. Her heart skipped.

Score!

With a grin, she Ghosted forward, quickly grabbed the cash, and hesitated momentarily. She didn't need a laptop, right? But something about the sleek device tugged at her—a computer of her own. She grabbed it, stuffing it into her backpack with its charger, and a sense of victory washed over her. Money, a laptop. This was worth the risk.

The thrill of her success lasted about 3 moments before reality hit her. Now, how the hell was she going to get out?

"Well, now, what do we have here? And who might you be?" a silky voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts, making her freeze. The voice sent a jolt of fear through her—something in it didn't sit right, an undercurrent of menace beneath the apparent friendliness. Slowly, she turned, and there he was.

A towering man in full plate armour. His blue eyes locked onto her, staring at her with amusement. She recognised him instantly from the news. It was him—Kaiser, the leader of the Empire. What was he doing here, of all places?

"Did Coil send you?" Kaiser asked, his tone almost casual as he took a step forward. "You seem a bit young to be one of his agents." Taylor's mind scrambled for an answer, but the words died in her throat. She instinctively stepped back, eyes darting around the room for any possible escape.

Her first night out, and she runs into Kaiser? Kaiser?! The only way this night could worsen would be if Lung wandered out from the other door.

At that, Taylor fixed the other door with a suspicious glare.

"Nothing to say, little girl? Fine then," Kaiser continued; Taylor snapped back to him, realising she had ignored one of the most dangerous men in the city; Kaiser meanwhile simply took another deliberate step forward, "If Coil thinks I'm intimidated by him breaking the unwritten rules and sending you here, he is sorely mistaken."

"Unwritten rules?" Taylor couldn't help but ask, her voice barely above a whisper. Kaiser paused, quirking an eyebrow at her, then sighed.

"You weren't sent by Coil, were you?" he asked. Taylor felt a cold wave of dread wash over her. She meekly shook her head. In frustration, Kaiser pinched the bridge of his helm, muttering something under his breath.

"So what are you doing here, then?" He asked, his voice almost gentle but loaded with threat. "You didn't come here just to steal cash and an old laptop, did you?"

Taylor instinctively took another step back, hitting the window. She had nowhere else to go. The answer was evident in her wide eyes. She simply nodded at his question.

"…Oh my god, you did," Kaiser said in disbelief, staring at her as if she'd just confessed to some absurd crime.

"Fuck…" Kaiser muttered in exasperation, turning away, clearly deep in thought. But as he did, an iron spike shot up from the ground, stopping inches from Taylor's throat. Her heart skipped a beat, and she gasped.

"What am I going to do with you, then?" Kaiser murmured, his voice low and thoughtful, as though pondering what to have for lunch. "I can't just let you go now, can I? You've seen me here. Seen me at Med-hall." He clicked his tongue. "If this gets out, people will ask questions."

"I won't tell anyone," Taylor squeaked, barely audible. She pressed herself back against the window, her pulse pounding in her ears.

Kaiser's gaze snapped to hers, narrowing with cold, calculating precision. Yet, oddly, he also tutted at her, wagging his finger as if simply scolding. "You are a child," he muttered, his voice almost patronising. "You'd blabber the first chance you got."." He sighed, a tone of finality in his voice. "But no… I can't have you die in the building. Disposing of dead children brings too much heat," he spoke flatly, as though he were discussing the weather, not a cold-blooded murder.

Taylor's stomach churned. She felt herself go cold, her breaths shallow and erratic. This was it. She wasn't going to make it out of here alive.

Kaiser paused again, strolling towards her. The metallic clank of his armoured boots echoed in the still room as his hand hovered near his desk. With a slow, deliberate movement, he pressed a button.

"Control room, I've found the little wraith. But unfortunately, it seems that she was spooked and jumped out the window."

The words barely registered in Taylor's mind before pain exploded in her chest. It was a shock—a sudden, overwhelming burst of agony. She didn't even have time to scream before the iron spike pierced through her body. The glass shattered behind her as she was thrown back, the ground rushing to meet her as a crimson rain rushed to meet it.

She didn't even have the chance to fully process it. The sharp rush of air and the weightlessness—the world spinning too fast—before everything suddenly went dark.