Doctor Mother eyed the prospective new 'hero' before her.
One who was asking Cauldron to make an innocent of her choice into her nemesis.
In all honesty, if Fortuna hadn't stated that this deal was part of the Path she wouldn't even be here, and even with Fortuna's certainty that this was the right course of action she was much more hesitant than normal.
It wasn't just that the client couldn't afford all of their fees, that was often more of a benefit as the Numberman kept their accounts full anyway and this way they could leverage more 'favours', but more… how unstable the client seemed.
She opened her mouth, about to deny the contract, turn the psycho out without even the chance to buy her own powers, only to see Fortuna step into the doorway behind her.
Doctor Mother froze.
Fortuna never risked being seen by their customers until they needed to see just how ready they were to deal with breach of contract, yet here she was, fingers running over the horn by her side that was the last remaining piece of her culture she held onto.
This… if it really was so important…
"We can only make the offer," she stated instead. "Force feeding someone powers will always go wrong." A lesson learned from the mistakes of others.
Across the table from her, Emma Barnes smirked.
{}
"Try to stay calm and make sure to drink the entire vial," Doctor Mother instructed the chosen nemesis, handing the vial over.
The process of negotiating the final contract had taken months, not helped by the way both sides of the contract had to agree to each term without meeting.
It was an unknown sample, not what the customer had wanted, but when her funds were so lacking that didn't matter too much.
What mattered more in this case was Fortuna suggesting an unknown sample, and the nemesis agreeing.
"... One more thing," Doctor Mother decided to add. "Most people when they Trigger, and some who take vials, experience a 'Trigger Vision', which they always forget the contents of. Don't be alarmed when you wake up."
The normal restraints for testing unknown samples couldn't realistically be used on somewhere gaining powers by choice, so they needed other forms of protection.
She made sure to retreat to the viewing area before the candidate drank her vial.
Time to see why Fortuna was so insistent…
{}
Taylor wasn't sure what was happening.
One moment she was in the lab, about to get powers, the next she was here.
How did she end up on a boat? Why couldn't she see anything but darkness beyond its side?
And… why was the darkness so comforting?
A shift ran through the boat, as though it was starting to turn, and Taylor looked back.
A lady, someone she didn't recognise, was sat at the back, the aft, of the boat, one hand on the rudder and the other resting atop a ball.
Taylor fell back, pressing against the side of the boat.
For a moment she considered jumping over the side, but something warned her that would be a bad idea.
A dangerous idea.
"There is a certain power in names," the lady commented, as though continuing a conversation Taylor had fallen asleep in. "We are shaped by them just as we shape them in turn. And what many forget is that a name is a call. As they are forgotten, we slumber, but when our name is spoken once more, we can awaken."
Taylor felt a tranquil panic fall over her.
A panic, but without a racing heart.
Wherever she was, her heart was not beating.
"What do you want? Why am I here?"
"To give you a gift," the lady spoke with a gentle, almost familial, smile.
"Why me? Why now?"
"Opportunity."
Taylor felt her heart drop.
She wasn't entirely sure this was real, but the idea of getting this gift, whatever it was, because of dumb luck-
"This isn't the first opportunity I've had," the lady continued, as though reading her mind. "Rather, the first opportunity with someone worthy."
Something thrummed in the air at the word.
"It has been said that death is an unending slumber," the lady was saying, "and that is more true than many may think. What are we beyond what we can do? And should we be left to slumber too long… which is why this gift is yours."
"And if I refuse?"
The lady laughed.
"Oh my dear, it's too late. You already received it."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Tyche."
The boat shuddered, the vision or dream or whatever shattering around them.
And Taylor was gone.
Alone once again, Tyche smiled to herself.
"But you can call me sister."
{}
Taylor jolted awake, gasping as she sat up.
Vague memories of… a boat and darkness…
She shook her head.
She couldn't remember any details, and the doctor had warned her that nobody remembered the vision.
"How do you feel?"
She glanced up at the viewing room.
Taylor could acknowledge the sense in giving space to someone getting an unknown power, just as aware of the existence of Ash Beast and the Endbringers (cool name for a metal band a voice in her head suggested) as anyone else, but it had still stung, being left alone in the room by the first person to giver her any hope since…
"I'm okay," she responded, cutting off her own thoughts.
"Can you feel anything different? Can you control your powers?"
Taylor frowned, concentrating within herself.
"Yes, but I don't…"
Like this.
She felt it happen, and for the first time all this, her getting powers everything, was real.
{}
Doctor Mother watched as wings grew from the subjects back.
They grew through the hospital gown as though it wasn't there, large enough to carry her without any doubts.
Wings of black feathers.
On one hand this was clear evidence of powers under the subjects control, and flight was always a useful power.
On the other hand, she was demonstrating no awareness of the other power she was displaying.
As soon as Doctor Mother spoke, the subject had turned to look directly at her.
Through a one way mirror.
Not just a normal one, but a Tinkertech mirror.
It was impossible for light (or sound or any other medium for detection) to pass through the mirror.
And the subject still knew where she was.
She cleared her throat (was the air in the viewing room dry or dusty? Or was there another effect in play, drying out her throat).
"Do you have anything else you can do?"
{}
Taylor frowned.
It felt like there should be more, but…
"Somethings missing, some condition. I need…"
She trailed off, before shaking her head.
"I don't know, I just know I don't have it."
She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice.
"I see. One moment."
Taylor focused on the feeling that she could do more, trying to feel it out, to understand the gap and how to fill it.
She was pulled from her thoughts when the door opened, the doctor stepping in.
"Preliminary tests indicate no danger from accidental power usage," she noted, returning to her earlier place next to Taylors bed.
"And are the tests complete then?"
The question was asked sarcastically, but the doctor nodded.
"Normally we would conduct more intensive testing on candidates for the nemesis program," a strange shudder ran through Taylor at the word, "but these are hardly normal circumstances, and trying to define what precise Brute rating you possess risks permanent damage."
Taylor had considered the question many times between first being approached by the group and receiving her powers, but she couldn't help but ask it this time.
"How do you normally recruit nemesis's?"
The doctor seemed to consider for a moment.
"Do you know how many Earths we have access to?"
"Well, there's Aleph, and this is Bet-"
"This isn't Earth Bet."
"What?"
"I won't be telling you this Earth's designation, but it isn't Bet. In all honesty, I don't know how many Earths we can access. I do know that we eventually resorted to numbers after running out of alphabets. And in all these Earths, how often do you think someone, who's signed up to leave their body to medical science, ends up in a coma? Still alive, but without hope of recovery?"
Taylor hesitated.
"The odds must be low, but with that many worlds…"
"Getting powers will always fix physical damage. Not genetic conditions, like your glasses, but anything environmental? Fair game. And so these victims of fate reawaken with powers."
"And you convince them to abandon their old lives and become someones nemesis?"
The word tasted strangely familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time.
"If their memories return, we tell them enough that they will understand, and return them. Their life carries on, they just have powers now. Others, most, don't. They remain blank slates."
"And you turn them into villains."
"Did you ever wonder where Case 53's come from?"
The tangent disrupted Taylors thoughts.
"Not really."
"Each of them is someone we saved from a coma, whose memories remained lost. Some become villains, some heroes, it is their choice. But those who don't remember, who still look human, they are our nemesis candidates. For the months of the contract, they are bound to their role, but how far they go is up to them. And after?"
She shrugged.
"It is their life. What is a few months of villainy compared to the years they would never experience without us?*
The doctor sighed.
"The end can't always justify the means, but given the end we're working towards, I feel that we do the best we can with the means available to us."
"And you really think that everyone you've used would agree to the procedure?"
"They signed up to be donated to medical science, would they refuse a process that saved their life? And everyone else agreed, took the vial of their own free will."
Taylor considered the doctor.
Even when she'd looked up the conspiracy online she'd known that they weren't the most moral of groups, and yet this answer was better than she could have expected.
"What now?"
"You go home, we tell our client", Emma, Taylor just knew, "the powers you've exhibited, and you have two weeks in which to make your first appearance. And if you would be so good, kindly tell us what other powers you discover, for our records."
"And then you'll pass that information on."
The doctor laughed.
"Hardly. Identifying what powers are connected to which sample is far more important than any number of nemesis contracts, and if we did pass along anything from outside our testing, that information would become a lot less trustworthy."
And, like with everything else the doctor had said after she awoke, Taylor believed her.
{}
Taylor stepped through the Door into the cemetery.
In many ways this had all started when her mother died, so it felt somehow fitting to visit her grave to start the next leg of the journey.
So here she was, an ordinary teenager in a hoody, standing before a grave as the sun began to set.
"Well," she spoke quietly to the grave, despite the lack of anyone who could overhear her, "it happened. I… have powers."
The shadows grew long around her as snow began to fall.
"A final gift from Emma, another attempt to break me." Her voice was bitter, drawing out a sigh. "You wouldn't recognise her any more."
She looked up, watching the sun slip beneath the horizon, and a wistful smile passed over her face.
"I know it's a bit early, but merry christmas mum."
The sun finished its descent, day turning to night.
And something awakened within her.
An ironic laugh filled the air.
"And merry christmas Emma," her Nemesis declared, the shadow of a sword forming in her hand.
{}
Taylor hadn't managed to get a truly satisfactory costume by the time her two weeks were up.
The mask wasn't too much of a problem in the end, Cauldron providing her with a basic domino mask when she hadn't made an appearance a week in, but the rest of the outfit?
She didn't have any ability to make it herself, so she'd have to buy it.
And she didn't have that kind of money.
Maybe if she'd thought of it earlier, she could have asked for the clothes she needed for Christmas, but that ship had sailed.
Instead Taylor had ended up picking out some regular, if particularly dark, clothes from her wardrobe and called it a day.
So here she was, on the final day to make her debut, in a black shirt and trousers, wings sprouted from her back, on the edge of a roof overlooking a particular tool store.
The contract stated she would be a villain, but for the most part her precise crimes were up to her.
And so Taylor had chosen to go after a store that had sold the dockworkers shoddy tools that broke when faced with regular wear and tear and then refused to give any kind of refund, in fact trying to charge extra for 'damages caused by improper tool usage'.
The unions legal team had blocked that, of course, but the store still managed to talk their insurance into paying out to them.
It was just about the least morally ambiguous target she could choose, while living up to her role of villain.
Such things couldn't last, Taylor was all too aware of that, but for her first appearance it would do.
Her wings flared as she stepped off, letting her fall safely to the ground, right in the sightline of the neighbouring shops security camera.
A flex of her power saw the shadow of a sword reappear in her hand, letting her open a hole in the shops fronting.
In her private testings the effectiveness of the shadow sword had varied drastically, sometimes cutting effortlessly and sometimes acting more like a club, smashing through what she tested it against.
But tonight it cut like a real object, forcing her to saw through the window.
It took a few minutes for her to make a big enough hole to enter, every moment of which had Taylor expecting an alarm or sirens.
But instead, silence.
She stepped inside, heading straight for the tills.
It was just a few moments work to open the tills and grab the money from inside.
Taylor didn't stop to count it, but judging by the stacks of twenties it was definitely hundreds of dollars at least.
Enough to get a better costume?
Probably, but Taylor couldn't be sure, with how long it was since she last went clothes shopping.
Her loot secured it was time to leave the store, trusting that between the camera footage, the damage and the missing money her debut would be noticed.
It was as she was stepping outside that it happened.
There was the sound of an approaching vehicle, one that Taylor could recognise as the Armscycle.
The bikes Tinkertech engine made a pretty distinctive sound, after all, and she'd- uh, Armsmaster was a popular hero in the bay.
For a moment, excitement at getting to meet him threatened to overwhelm her, only for her current reality to assert itself.
She was in the process of committing an act of theft (she'd tried looking up the legal definitions of robbery, breaking and entering and the other specific forms of thievery, but just hadn't been able to 'get' the intricacies), and contractually bound to being a villain.
And why would someone breaking into the store even get Armsmaster as a response?
The answer, as it turned out, was that it didn't.
It was the rush of wind that gave it away, a silent and invisible vehicle going full tilt down the road, Armsmaster in hot pursuit.
He must have landed some kind of tracking device on the vehicle, Taylor decided.
And the reason why was somewhat obvious.
There were four Tinkers she knew of in the city.
Armsmaster, of course, and Kid Win for the heroes.
Given Armsmasters pursuit and Kid Win being in the Wards, she could eliminate them from contention.
Next up was Leet, or L33t or whatever he used, a videogame obsessed manchild who, aling with his partner, posted videos online of their 'stunts', always based on games.
Not likely given the lack of camera and just how bad a vehicular stealth game would be.
Which left Squealer, of the Merchants.
The cities main pushers of drugs.
There were all too many stories of people being forcefully addicted by the Merchants, or attacked by their victims for drug money.
Not to mention that the driver who crashed into her mothers car had apparently had traces of drugs in his system.
Suffice it to say, Taylor did not like the Merchants.
And here was a Merchant operation, right in front of her.
Taylor spread her wings and leapt into the air, using Armsmaster to trail after Squealers creation, drawing her sword from the night.
It wasn't easy for Taylor, trying to keep up with the chase, but the drivers apparent attempts to shake Armsmaster off played to her advantage.
The two of them in the chase had to keep to the roads, while she was high enough to make a beeline for Armsmasters current location.
As she flew, Taylor tried to figure out what exactly she could do to stop the Merchants.
If she could get ahead of them, and knew where exactly the vehicle was, she could try using her sword to force them to stop, but with the stealth field, that wasn't exactly safe.
She needed something else, some good luck for herself or misfortune for the Merchants.
Like if their axle broke.
There was a noise below, and Taylor saw a line suddenly being carved into the road, right in front of Armsmaster, followed by a wheel appearing and spinning off to the side.
And finally the vehicle became visible, grinding to a halt, and forcing Armsmaster to the pavement from the unexpected halt.
It was ugly.
That was the only adjective Taylor could think to apply to it.
It was clearly made from junk, thrown together without any concern about aesthetics.
About the only good point about its… design… was that it looked to have a good carrying capacity, which would seem to be its downfall.
Too much weight, insufficiently sturdy construction.
And it also meant that the Merchants inside wouldn't be able to take it all with them, Taylor noted with satisfaction.
Too bad it couldn't last.
A group of Merchants were fleeing the… thing… mostly taking bags that had to be their cargo, but there was one major exception.
One Merchant, instead of trying to get away, had hauled out a girl (whose outfit, as barely as it deserved the term, left no doubt as to her gender) and was assaulting and shouting at her.
And Taylor wasn't about to let that abuse go.
She angled forwards, accelerating as fast as possible towards them.
The Merchant barely had time to realise she was there before they collided, the impact throwing him back and knocking him out even as she landed, poised over the girl in a protective manner.
The girl seemed to be breathing fine, which was about the limit of Taylors first aid knowledge, so she stood, turning to face Armsmaster as he rounded the wreck.
They faced each other, both holding their weapons at the ready but neither moving to attack.
"Who are you," Armsmaster finally asked.
"I am Nemesis," Taylor found herself saying before she could think about it, in place of any of the names she'd thought of over the past week.
"Are we going to fight?"
Taylor couldn't hold back a snort.
"I'm not that stupid."
Content enough that he wasn't about to attack her, Taylor lifted off again, heading in the general direction of home.
She'd fulfilled her objective.
One store robbed, one clash with a gang and her name was out there.
Her villainous debut was complete.