Taylor paused her movement and hung in the air for a moment, still looking after Alexandria and wondering. Oh, not about Alexandria's hostility: that was obvious, Alexandria was afraid what trouble Taylor might bring about if she chose to spill all. But why be so blatant about it? Why choose to confront Taylor directly?

'Good cop, bad cop,' Taylor concluded, hearing the Emperor hum in her mind.

"Maybe."

Taylor tapped, fingers clicking against the hilt of her sword, metal and wood reassuring under the edges of her gauntlets, thoughts grinding through her mind. Her other hand patted at her pockets, almost without thinking, and her questing fingers only halted when they encountered an unexpected lump in a pocket. She reached in and, slowly, pulled out a small idol of a woman, crafted from an unnatural flesh. Taylor blinked.

"Huh."

She must have pocketed it when she was leaving the macabre corpse warehouse – she was surprised that neither Alexandria nor Doctor Mother had said anything, but perhaps they hadn't noticed. She turned it over in her hand, examining it, and wondered how much longer it would last. Was it susceptible to bacteria like all the other flesh she'd ever seen, or was there something about it that would keep it freshly dead? The warehouse had seemed to be climate controlled, but that didn't make anything certain. Part of Taylor wanted to transmute it into something more enduring, keep it as a twisted trophy. Part of her thought it would be better to keep flesh, for testing.

Taylor shook her head, slipping the idol back into her pocket for the moment. Something to think about later.

'Tattletale, then,' she mused, 'I wonder how she'll react to that flesh?'

Despite her decision, however, Taylor didn't yet move. There was still a stirring of anger deep inside and she knew that if she went to speak to Tattletale now she might say more than she wanted about Cauldron. And, besides, Taylor wasn't sure that Cauldron wasn't spying on her with a portal. But she had a way to test that.

Taylor looked up, to the stars above, and beat her wings. Space, she remembered that old quip as she rose, was just an hours drive away, so long as you could go straight up. If there was a portal open to spy on her, no matter how small, there would be airflow between her world and theirs. And if she went up…

"You just want to see how close you can get to space," the Emperor chided. Taylor shrugged.

'That too,' she agreed, and beat her wings harder. Against the resistance of the air, she ascended.

'It's a long way to space, and I don't know what'll happen when we get there,' Taylor said as she continued to rise, her speed only increasing as she beat her wings, 'But it's worth a try. Apart from the egoism of being able to look down on the whole world and the symbolism of holding it in my hand, the Simurgh lurks in near-space and taking her out up there will be a lot less likely to cause collateral damage. The Parasite too.'

"Our augmentations will allow us to survive in space for a time, once they're complete. And our powers will allow even longer. Still, a prolonged battle in space is not to our advantage."

'If we don't try, we'll never know. Besides, I'd still like to see space myself.'

The Emperor didn't contradict her, so Taylor took it as agreement and flew on.

Further and further, higher and higher, wings beating faster and harder to keep going, the air thinning enough that even her enhanced lungs laboured to drag sufficient oxygen out of each breath she dragged in, the increasing thud of her heartbeat echoed by a much smaller, softer thump from the bud of muscle in her chest cavity that would, one day, be a second heart. Physical limitations. Biological limitations, Taylor's fragile human form struggling to keep going at this height, yet still she ascended. The air was thin, too thin to support her weight on her wings, and Taylor reached into the fathomless depths of the Immaterium. In a blink she had abandoned the pretence of flying on the air, her wings catching a current only she could feel, and she broke through. Higher. Higher than any bird, higher than a passenger jet, the temperature plummeting. She was a long way from space, and yet…and yet, Taylor wrapped her powers around her and continued. She was so close.

So close, and yet so far. Taylor paused, wings still beating, breath still gasping, and looked down. The clouds hid her hometown, but from up here she could see where they broke apart, the sea and the land and the lights.

'How far, do you think?'

"The Mesosphere. A little below halfway – perhaps forty miles from the ground. Not quite too high for the aircraft of this time, but nearly there. Are you going to keep going?"

Taylor kept breathing, feeling the strain. She could keep going, she recognised, augmenting her biology to drag the needed oxygen out of the air and run on less, but no. She didn't want to claw her way into space, struggling and scraping for every inch. She wanted to ascend in a single flight, overcome gravity and thin air and temperature. She wanted a triumph, not a victory by the edges of her fingers.

"You know, lack of oxygen can lead to delusions."

Taylor laughed, strangled and weak in the air, and folded her wings.

She fell.

Taylor tipped backwards as she went, tilting herself into a face-forward position as she felt the thin air whip against her, her coattails pressed back by the increasing speed. She could probably calculate her terminal velocity, but she didn't bother. She was here, after all, to enjoy the ride and nothing spoiled a good time like overthinking. Besides, so long as she didn't somehow manage to set herself on fire and smash into the city like a meteor – possible, but very unlikely so long as she did the slightest amount of due diligence – she would be fine.

Ah, adrenaline.

Taylor plummeted towards the ground, starting from four times the peak of Mount Everest, and felt only glee. Not quite the highest ever, if she remembered rightly, but close – almost five minutes in free-fall if she'd had a parachute. A little longer with her wings and her grin spread across her face, the whipping wind blowing away the last of her irritation with Cauldron. So far to fall, and Taylor savoured every metre.

"It's about freedom," the Emperor said, "Having total control over yourself and your immediate future. Nothing else matters, just what you do. In theory."

'Don't ruin it.'

"Am I ruining it?"

'Eh. Nah. I'm enjoying this too much. How low do you think we can go?'

"If there wasn't a city below, you could try and find out. Given that there is, however…"

'Yeah,' Taylor sadly agreed, 'Splatting on the sidewalk is best left for another time, when I don't have anything to do.'

"Generally speaking I'd advise you avoid it completely. I am usually in favour of trying new experiences, but breaking all of your bones isn't as fun as it sounds."

'That's coward talk,' Taylor said, although she did take a measure of the distance just in case. She had time.

'I wonder if Glory ever does this,' Taylor commented, 'Just go as high as possible and experience the fall. We should probably talk to her, shouldn't we? I hate to admit it, but if we could get Panacea on board with our plan that could help us a lot.'

"Do you think she would really agree?" the Emperor asked, neutrality tinged with just an edge of mockery, "Even if we could give her almost the same powers as she has now, why would she accept? She despises us, and I know you feel the same."

Taylor might have said something about despise being a strong word, but it was true. She and Panacea just didn't get along. Hatred at first sight, you could say.

'Well, she'll have to get used to it. Anyone we make a Psyker could have Biomantic powers not far from Panacea's, not just us. She can't hate everyone who might outshine her.'

"I don't think that's the source of her problems with you, but I do see your point. Victoria was the first Parahuman you ever became friends with…it couldn't hurt to talk to her about your plans. I see why you trust Luna as much as you do, but you are correct when you bring up Alastor and Cynthia being loyal to Luna first."

Taylor gave a mental shrug, briefly wishing she'd taken off her helmet to feel the wind on her skin. The air sneaked fingers through her clothing and her armour, cold breaths misting across her skin where her power didn't cover, but it wasn't quite the same as a real freefall. Maybe some time in the future, Taylor thought, relegating her concerns about Panacea and Glory to the future and focusing again on the ground.

Closer, closer to the ground and Taylor judged her speed, the distance. Close enough, she concluded, twisting around in mid-air, and snapped her wings open to catch the wind. Not for the first time she was glad that her wings didn't anchor across her back and chest like biological limbs would: the savage wrench on her suddenly spread wings would have torn muscle and strained ligaments. None of that applied to her unnatural appendages, however, and so Taylor caught the wind and pulled up, her headlong dive turning into a soaring glide, skimming across the tops of the tallest buildings. This was freedom, this flight, the unrestrained joy of speed, but it had a purpose as well. Taylor whipped through the city, altering her flight with just the slightest twist of a wing, the shift of crystalline feathers, until she homed in on her target. A warehouse, broken and battered, the very place she'd fought Lung so long ago. It was still abandoned, the perfect place for her next act, and Taylor tilted back as she approached, perpendicular to the ground so her wings could slow her down. Through a gap in the broken roof, boots hitting the ground with a thud – no need for a soft landing with her augmentations – and Taylor bled away her momentum with a couple of jogging steps, reaching once more for the Warp.

'Pay attention,' she said, 'We do this too often, it's going to look suspicious.'

"It will look suspicious anyway," the Emperor pointed out, but he didn't steer her away from her plan. Besides, if Cauldron really were spying on Taylor they'd be able to realise she knew. Better that they only saw something Taylor had done before. And they surely must have heard of this one, even if she'd very rarely used it. Even if it had put her out of commission for weeks when she'd first used it.

Taylor took a deep breath, reaching further into the Warp. She was stronger now, so much stronger, and she didn't intend to hold the technique for as long. But even so…she gritted her teeth, and pushed.

Silence descended.

In hindsight, as Taylor's bones creaked under the pressure of her Void Prison, Taylor couldn't believe that she'd been stupid enough to resort to this against Lung. Sure, she'd left it until the very last moment, hoping to avoid using it, but…she was nowhere near strong enough to pull it off. Really, she should have retreated. Gotten control of her temper, realised that she could teach Lung a lesson in respect at any time, and gone on her merry way.

Well, you couldn't change the past – not without serious repercussions, anyway – and Taylor needed most of her focus for the present. Holding the vacuum around her wasn't easy, and keeping her body functioning while exposed was just as difficult. For a regular human the moisture on their skin would boil away, air would escape and leave them choking. Not long to unconsciousness. Taylor, having maintained the Void Prison for thirty seconds as her lungs ached and her blood shuddered, was aware that even she couldn't last long. But there was no escape of air, no passage of oxygen from another reality into hers – perhaps Cauldron really weren't spying on her with their portals. She dropped her hands, letting the vacuum fail and the air swirl around her again, and took a grateful lungful.

'That never gets any more pleasant. It's getting easier, at least, although I think the usefulness is limited these days. Not like the Endbringers can be taken down by vacuum exposure, sadly.'

"No, I think we'll need something more explosive for that. The Void Prison had its moment, but I think it's run its course."

A shame. Taylor had a strange fondness for it, even if she hardly ever got the chance to use it – but time moved on.

'A bit of a shame. Always liked how fancy it is. But you're right, we need something else. At least there's plenty of options, even if I don't think I'll be shouting 'Hammer of The Emperor!' anytime soon.'

"Not even if it improves the power of it?"

Taylor chewed on her lip, mulling it over. On one hand, she'd probably sound fairly stupid yelling out attack names. On the other hand, more power?

'That's a cruel thing to ask me.'

"As we've previously established, I can be a cruel man on occasion. You must have inherited it, given the choice you're about to give Tattletale."

Taylor wanted to defend herself, but found that she couldn't. She didn't think it was cruel, exactly, but there was a reason people said ignorance was bliss. Becoming a Psyker would open options for Tattletale, but it would close many more – and who knew how attached Tattletale was to her Parahuman ability? Taylor certainly didn't.

'Well, we can but ask,' she said, wings spreading again as she took flight through the broken roof, 'So let's go and ask. Hopefully she'll still be in.'


"Tattletale!" Taylor said, bursting into Tattletale's office with a beaming smile on her face, "My darling, my precious, light of my life."

Tattletale looked up from the paperwork on her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes briefly. Grue, who was also in the room, immediately backed away with a cloud of darkness boiling from his costume before Tattletale waved a hand at him.

"Don't bother," she said, "She's not here to fight. Just to be annoying."

"Now that's not very nice," Taylor said, maintaining her beaming smile, "Can't I drop in for some girl talk?"

Tattletale gave her a long look, from boots to armoured torso to face, her sceptical expression not changing a bit. Taylor swallowed a laugh, but only barely.

"Yeah, alright, I'm not here for girl talk," she said, "I've got something important to talk to you about. In private, if you don't mind."

"Most people would check that this is a good time," Tattletale said, although her expression had cracked into a smile, "And even make an appointment."

"But my spontaneity is why you love me, right?"

"Something like that," Tattletale agreed, still gazing unblinkingly at Taylor. Taylor strolled around the office, the opposite way to Grue to ease his concerns.

"Come on, Two-Tees. Aren't you curious?"

"You know what they say about curiosity and the cat," Tattletale said, "But I've never listened to proverbs before. Take a seat, Taylor."

Grinning victoriously, Taylor spun a pc chair across to Tattletale's desk and sat down on it, the back of the chair to her chest to make room for her wings. Grue tapped a boot.

"Really, Tats?" he said. Tattletale shrugged.

"It's not like she hasn't come through for us before," she said, "You know our plans, right?"

"Sure do," Grue said, "We're going with the first option, then?"

Tattletale nodded.

"I'll let you know what she says," she said, "Good luck. And be careful."

"Feel like I should be telling you that," he said, throwing the words over his shoulder as he left. Taylor spun on her chair to watch him go, and then turned back.

"You know, I'm pretty sure half the people in this city think he's in charge of the Undersiders, and the other half think it's you," she said, "Makes sense that the truth's somewhere in the middle."

"He's a better leader than I am," Tattletale admitted shamelessly, "And he at least listens. If you're looking to call in a favour, you're out of them."

"No favours," Taylor said, "Unless I'm doing one for you. How much have you used your powers today?"

Tattletale shook her head.

"A bit. Not a lot, but there's some minor gangs trying to set up in Brockton so I needed to work out a plan with Grue. Why?"

Taylor patted her pocket, where the idol of the Parasite lay, and took a moment to reconsider her planned actions. This could go very well, or it could go absolutely horribly wrong. Still. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"Just asking," Taylor said, "For a reason that will definitely be important later. Seriously though, what's up with Grue? I come in like that and he doesn't even blink? That's messed up."

"Probably because he knows that we'd both be doing it to annoy people," Tattletale pointed out, "He's seen us do it before. I'm pretty sure I could have leapt into your arms and called you snugglebug and he wouldn't have even blinked."

Taylor lifted a finger.

"We should do that the next time we see Armsmaster. If we ever see Armsmaster."

"Given the chaos this city constantly endures, we'll probably see him sooner or later," Tattletale said, "But. That's not what you're here for, right? In fact…I heard Alexandria was in the city, visiting. Coming to meet the new up-and-comer?"

"Meet me," Taylor said, "Take my measure. Intimidate me a little bit. Induct me into the local Illuminati. Reveal to me the source of all Parahuman powers. All of that good stuff."

Silence. Taylor had known that Tattletale's powers didn't exactly work on her, not properly. Whatever knowledge Tattletale's powers drew on, it didn't know about the Warp, but it could extrapolate, make educated guesses. And it could read Taylor, tell if she was lying or not. From the quiet opposite her, Taylor was pretty sure Tattletale had been using her power.

"The source of all Parahuman powers?" Tattletale said softly, "And you're telling me? What if they're spying on you? You – no. You've already checked, of course you have. I can tell. And you're telling me because you want something – no. You want to offer me something?"

"That is remarkably annoying," Taylor said, wondering if it would translate into a low level of precognition in a Psyker Tattletale. It wasn't like there was a lack of minor precognitive abilities among the range of Psyker powers, after all.

"Is it?" Tattletale asked, smiling smugly, and Taylor rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, you're very impressive. Now. They took me off, told me a bunch of stuff, mostly let me go – probably because they want me to trust them, think well of them. Carrot before stick, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar et cetera et cetera, proverbs upon proverbs. But that didn't stop me from, maybe accidentally, taking a little souvenir."

Taylor reached into her pocket, Tattletale's eyes fixing on her, and wrapped her fingers around the idol.

"Be careful," she warned, "I don't know how this'll set off your powers."

Tattletale shook her head, a gleam in her eyes that Taylor recognised as avarice, greed for knowledge.

"I can take a little pain to know," she said. Taylor frowned. That was an all too familiar refrain, wasn't it? Something to keep an eye on. But it wasn't dangerous yet, so Taylor closed her fingers around the idol and drew it forth.

"Look, ye mighty," she quoted, "And despair."

Tattletale looked, and she did not despair. No, that would have been a relief. Taylor set the idol down on the desk and Tattletale leaned in, eyes locked on it.

"It's not that impressive," Taylor said, her light tone cracking halfway through as she registered Tattletale's expression. Tattletale's expression was drawn, eyes wide, teeth bared. Taylor could see the tiny blood vessels rupturing in Tattletale's eyes and alarm washed through her.

"Look away. Tattletale, look away!"

Tattletale didn't look away, didn't even blink. Her bulging eyes widened even further somehow, impossibly opened, her indrawn breath suddenly shaking, and Taylor felt the pain blossoming in the other girl's head.

"Oh, fuck."

Tattletale was frozen, eyes locked on the figure, expression peeling into horror and the pain deepening and Taylor sprang to her feet, kicking away the chair and vaulting the desk with a single beat of her wings. She pushed Tattletale back as she landed, all too aware that landing on Tattletale's lap would crush her under Taylor's augmented bulk, and blocked the idol with her body. Tattletale was still staring, shaking, and Taylor abandoned subtlety in order to press both her hands to Tattletale's temples and make eye contact.

"Look into my eyes," Taylor ordered, power reaching out in an attempt to break Tattletale out of her trance. No blink, no reaction except the slightest twitch of her eyes and the terror that was flooding Tattletale and Taylor reached for the Warp. Tattletale was locked into a death spiral, her own power eating her alive as it attempted to continue making connections, intuitions, understandings, vessels bursting in her brain. Her power had some sort of regenerative aspect to keep damage down, but it was being overwhelmed and Tattletale was still trying to understand.

"Alright, alright," Taylor said in half a whisper, "Sorry for this. But it's definitely for the best."

She reached into the Warp, power boiling in her veins, and poured it into Tattletale. Taylor set her jaw, gritted her teeth, and sparked power through Tattletale's mind. A jolt of Psyker power rocked Tattletale's mind, overwhelming the natural resistances she had as a Parahuman using their power, and Tattletale fell limply forwards as her brain simply shut down. Taylor caught her, lifting her easily and settling her on the desk, a sweep of a wing knocking the idol away.

'I hope nobody comes in, because this would be very awkward to explain,' Taylor thought, ripping off her gauntlets. She could still work her magic through them, of course, but delicate work was easier with bare flesh. And this was delicate work: Tattletales skull was riven with tiny injuries, caused by her own powers first and Taylor's brute force knockout tactic second, and Taylor needed to repair all of that damage.

"Okay," Taylor said aloud, "Okay. Repair first. That means just…"

Flesh knitted twisted back into place and Tattletale snapped awake, jerking like a hooked fish. Taylor extended her psychic grip across her entire body, keeping Tattletale pinned while she thrashed and gasped for breath.

"Hold still," Taylor snarled, "I'm healing you."

"Healing?" Tattletale croaked, a smile dragging itself across her face, "It hurts."

"It does that," Taylor grumbled, "Used your power too much."

"Too much," Tattletale whispered, "But it was worth it. I know…so much. I think."

"So do I, but you don't see me nearly dying," Taylor chided, "Your brain nearly gave out. The stroke to end all strokes, and I don't mean that as a sex joke – we're talking blood gushing from the eyes and nose, the whole nine yards. Why didn't you look away?"

Tattletale smiled up at her, the smile a feeble imitation of her usual smug grin but getting closer to it.

"I couldn't," she said, "I just couldn't. I needed to know."

A moment after she winced and pressed her fingers to her forehead.

"Fuck, that hurts," she hissed, "You couldn't have kept that thing in your pocket?"

"In my defence," Taylor said, still monitoring Tattletale's brain with most of her attention, "I didn't know you'd try to drink it all in. Remind me to never let you know if I find the Necronomicon, because apparently forbidden knowledge is like catnip to you."

"Most forbidden knowledge doesn't hit like half a brick in a sock," Tattletale mumbled. Taylor stopped her ministrations and stepped back, warily considering Tattletale. A thought sent a tendril of power out to curl around the idol and bring it to her, safely hidden behind her wings.

"Give it a minute before you try to get up," she advised, "Your brain took a pounding."

"Yeah, I noticed. You really couldn't have warned me? Or not showed me it all at once?"

Taylor stared at Tattletale, aggrieved at being asked the question again.

"I told you to stop looking! It's not my fault that you have no self-control. Did you…learn anything?"

Tattletale slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, legs now dangling off the edge of the desk, and blinked.

"I think…if I just…"

Taylor was already moving when Tattletale doubled over with a low groan of pain, catching her before she toppled and pressing fingers to her head.

"You really are a glutton for forbidden knowledge, aren't you?"

"I didn't think just trying to remember would hit me like this," Tattletale hissed, relaxing as Taylor once again smothered the rising headache, "Ow."

"What happened to 'I know so much?'" Taylor asked, shifting so she could lift Tattletale from the desk and deposit her in her chair, where she was less likely to topple to the ground. Tattletale sank into the faux leather with a faint whine, closing her eyes.

"I do," she said, "I do. It's just that when I try to think about it my power kicks in again and, you know."

"Starts collapsing your brain?"

"Yeah, I guess. Shit. That's not good."

Taylor pulled her chair back over to her with a gesture, sitting down again and resting her elbows on the desk.

"Alright," she said, "I see two ways to go over this. Or three, actually, but I really don't recommend the third."

"Alright, shoot," Tattletale said. Taylor nodded.

"Alright. Third option is to try to take in everything and once and spend a little while in a coma while you recover. I'll cover for your criminal activities, if you want."

"Absolutely not."

"Really? I think I'd make a good Tattletale," Taylor said, "Reading minds, being smug…probably the only thing I'm not sure about is being blonde. I don't think it would suit me. Not without some work, anyway."

Tattletale opened her mouth, her eyes abruptly narrowing.

"You bitch," she said, "You're dropping hints knowing full well that I can't use my powers to work them out. You're horrible. Awful. I can't believe I didn't meet and recruit you before the PRT managed it."

"Technically I'm a lone agent," Taylor said, her grin returning at Tattletale's offended expression, "And you know I'd be amazing at playing you."

"You're too much of a combat junkie, you'd definitely give the game away," Tattletale said dismissively, "No. Second option."

"Boring," Taylor muttered, "Alright. Second option is this: we spend the next week or so hanging around, with me healing you every time you make a mistake and try to remember too much. That'll take us both out of commission for a lot longer than I'd like, but it's probably possible."

"Yeah, that'll take too long," Tattletale said, shaking her head, "And the first option?"

Taylor laced her fingers together.

"The first option," she said, "Probably the best, is that we try and get it over with as quickly as possible. You try to understand, I flood you with power, and we hope your power stops feeding you information before you die. It won't be pretty, I won't lie, because my power doesn't play nice. But it should get you back in action pretty quickly."

Taylor didn't say any more, instead just waiting. The first option would be dangerous, without a doubt: Luna had done a very similar thing to destroy the Shard that had tried to parasitise her, and it had worked. But if it worked, Taylor could gain so much information. So much. And if it didn't, and the information was destroyed? Taylor wouldn't lose anything.

Well, wouldn't lose anything so long as Tattletale didn't end up dead or comatose or anything. She was pretty sure that wouldn't happen. She wouldn't let it.

"How long will it take you to prepare for the first option?" Tattletale asked, "The best one?"

"I'm already prepared," Taylor said, "You're the one who'll need to be ready. It'll hurt like hell."

There was, she supposed, technically a concern that Tattletale's Shard would learn more about the Warp than Taylor would want. But the Shards didn't seem able to communicate with the Parasite, given that Scion hadn't descended on Cauldron in a fury or gone after Luna, and Taylor was far from convinced that they'd be able to do anything. Even the Necrons had struggled to make anything of the Warp, even with the C'Tan to guide them. No, it would be fine.

"Hurt more that it would trying to work it out on my own?" Tattletale asked wryly, but Taylor could see the pinched lines of worry on her face. Taylor shook her head.

"Look," she said, "My powers don't play nicely with other Parahuman powers. They don't play nicely at all. I'll try to keep the pain down as much as possible but it'll be agonising, and your powers might be out of action for a while afterwards. I won't think any less of your for deciding not to go for it. I'll probably have to restrain you as well, so you don't bite your own tongue off or something."

"If I leave it," Tattletale said, her expression settling into something stubborn, "I'll be out of action for just as long. Longer, right? We're better off getting it done now."

She clicked a button on her desk and Taylor heard the click of the door locking behind them. Tattletale nodded.

"There, we won't be disturbed. Now. Hurry up, before I lose my nerve."

Taylor let out a long breath, the air hissing through her teeth, and rose from her seat.

"Yeah, there's no way to do this that won't look weird," she said, already opening herself to the Immaterium, "So try to keep your mind out of the gutter."

Tattletale blinked.

"What do you…"

Taylor knelt down, hands cupping Tattletale's head so that her fingers pressed against the other girl's temples, and looked her in the eyes.

"Eye contact makes it easier," she said, aware of the way that her breath began to mist and the crackling on her wings as embers ran down them. Tattletale met her eyes, Taylor's eyes now burning with light that Taylor could see shining on Tattletale's face, silver flame that flickered and danced as Taylor reached deeper and deeper. Like putting your hands into water, she thought, going from her usual barely breaking the surface to wrist deep to having your entire arm submerged, icy heat spreading throughout her blood.

"Now," Taylor said, still looking Tattletale in the eyes, "Remember."

Tattletale went rigid in Taylor's grip and Taylor poured power through her to counteract the damage of remembering, keep her locked in place. Tattletale's teeth started to grind together and Taylor added even more juice, flooding Tattletale's muscles to keep her in place and stop her from breaking any teeth.

Tattletale reached up, one hand curling around Taylor's left wrist in bruising grip, fingers curling around Taylor's arm as though trying to crush the bone. Taylor's reinforced skeletal structure could withstand the pressure, of course, but it was still impressive. Taylor kept looking into Tattletale's eyes, power burning through Tattletale to keep her brain intact, repairing damage as quickly as it was caused and buying Tattletale time. More, and more, and more, and more, minute after minute until, at last, Taylor felt the flow of information cease and Tattletale broke eye contact, looking away. Taylor pulled her hands away from Tattletale's head, breaking the connection and letting the remaining Warp energy whiplash back into her, and Tattletale slumped back with a long, gasping breath. Taylor rose to her feet.

'That was…strangely exhilarating,' she noted, power still rattling around her bones and clinging to her blood. This much power, even just a month ago, would have left her gasping for air and agonised as it tore through her body. Now? Now it only left her energised.

"So," Taylor said, "About knowing everything…"

Tattletale managed a strangled laugh, hauling herself into a more upright position using the arms of her chair. Taylor shifted her wings, hearing the sizzle and hiss of supernatural embers falling, and glanced down just to check that they weren't causing any damage. The little flickers of Warp-fuelled energy weren't actually making it to the carpet, which was probably a good thing given how nice it was. Taylor still folded her wings and focused on reigning in the energy anyway. It meant adding to the power that jittered through her, but that was fine. She could keep it internal, now. Better practice to keep it internal, as well. It was a waste of power to let it run wild like that and another moment of concentration burned away the cold in her breath, leaving only the glow in her eyes. Close enough.

"That's so weird," Tattletale said, grimacing and rubbing at the bridge of her nose even though Taylor couldn't feel her headache anymore, "My power just can't understand yours. It's like…it's like it's never seen it before. Like it should be able to understand, but it can't."

Well, Taylor knew why that was. But she didn't intend to tell, not yet. Or not at the moment, anyway.

"I'm an international miss of mystery," Taylor said, only mangling the phrase a little, "You alright?"

"I…yeah," Tattletale said, just before she put her head in both hands, hiding her face. Taylor leaned forwards, concerned, until Tattletale looked back up at her with an expression of exhaustion.

"You could have warned me that it was aliens," she said flatly, and Taylor found a laugh startled out of her.

"Would you have believed me?"

"I think right now you could tell me anything and I'd believe you. Aliens, man. Aliens."

Tattletale grimaced uncomfortably.

"And now I know far more of their life cycle than I ever wanted to."

"Anything good?" Taylor asked, not bothering to quash the eagerness in her voice. Tattletale, for once, didn't smile.

"No," she said quietly, "Nothing good. If you're looking for a way to kill them…of course you are. There might be something, but right now? Right now my power's given me the equivalent of a species Wikipedia page, with most of the links broken. I think as it settles in properly I'll know more, but for the moment? Only the basics, sorry."

Taylor felt her smile drop a notch but shrugged.

"Well, I hadn't bet everything on that horse anyway," she said, "It would have been nice, but I'll manage without. You're sure you're alright? No brain damage? No loss of memory?"

Tattletale peered at her.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? If I'd forgotten something, how would I know? And – if I was actually getting brain damage, how do my memories stay in place when you're messing around with my brain?"

"Brain surgery doesn't always affect memories," Taylor said primly, "Also, the damage was from your powers. You ever noticed memory loss as a side-effect?"

"No, but…how would I know?"

"I mean, the same question goes for me, right?" Taylor said, "How would I know if there are things you don't remember?"

"I guess," Tattletale begrudgingly agreed, "Fine. I won't ask about my memories, and hopefully it's because there aren't any missing. So you stole that from the local Illuminati and brought it here because you thought I'd be able to get something out of it? No. No, that's not it. You saw something, and you…it's a corpse?"

"Well, not a whole one."

"That makes it worse! You just – you took part of a corpse and reshaped it as, as a trophy? That's actual serial killer behaviour, you know that right?"

"Wasn't Regent a serial killer?" Taylor said under her breath before abandoning the thought and lifting her chin.

"Alright, this looks bad," she said, tone placating, "But it's not exactly how it seems."

Tattletale was maintaining a frowny face – Taylor suspected that the sudden outburst about the corpse had been prompted by her power briefly kicking in again, which was fairly unwelcome. Maybe the Parasites had some kind of limiter on powers? It wouldn't make much of a difference to Taylor herself, since…well, but it would make any Parahuman allies she could gather limited in use. Preferably Taylor would never need to rely on her allies to get the job done, but it wouldn't be ideal.

"I'm listening," Tattletale said, leaning back and folding her arms. Taylor gestured at her gauntlets, a thread of power pulling them over to her, and began to fastidiously replace them while talking. Something for her fingers to do, something distracting.

"I'm sure you've noticed, by now, that my powers aren't exactly standard issue, right?" she started. Tattletale narrowed her eyes at Taylor, considering. Taylor could almost hear the gears working inside her head, both Parahuman powers and human intelligence sorting through that single, simple statement.

"Don't overthink it," Taylor said, "It's not that complex."

"Not that complex?" Tattletale said, "Don't understate it, Taylor. Powers come from those…Entities."

"Parasites," Taylor said, nodding, "Part of their life cycle, right?"

Tattletale winced but nodded.

"Yeah," she said, "And most people Trigger under stress. Your Trigger was…your best friend, Emma. And Shadow Stalker. They-"

"Let's not re-hash Luna's ramblings," Taylor interrupted, "Because if we do we'll never get anything done. So I Trigger, whatever."

"You Triggered," Tattletale said quietly, "But not correctly. I can…I should be able to understand your powers. I should know what they are, especially now. But I can't…I don't know what they are. I can almost tell what they should be, but…"

"But?" Taylor prompted as Tattletale broke eye contact to look down, carefully fastening her vambraces into place. Tattletale looked back up, face haggard.

"Taylor," she said, "Why is my power telling me that your powers aren't right? What – what are you?"

Hook, line and sinker. Now it was time to reel in the fish, and Taylor grinned as she slung her arms over the back of her seat.

"Well," she said, "Isn't that a funny story."

"Is it?"

Taylor's next smart remark died on her lips as she thought about it, really thought about it. And there was, really, only one option.

"Not as much as you might expect," she said, "Truth be told, it started very poorly."

"A locker, right? And a best friend?" Tattletale asked. Taylor shrugged.

"Pretty much, yeah. Been looking into me?"

"As much as I need to. So, you Triggered. But…you didn't?"

"Don't overthink it," Taylor repeated, "The Parasite saw me all broken and shit and decided wow, it would be super funny to give this girl superpowers. And then the source of my other powers was like hey, she seems approximately good enough. And bada bing bada boom I get a double dose."

"But you don't have the double dose anymore, even if you ever did," Tattletale said, "The powers you should have gotten, have you ever even used them?"

"Nope," Taylor said, smiling wryly, "But someone has."

"Someone has…Luna. The bug control?"

Taylor nodded.

"Apparently, yeah. I guess it was…my best guess is that my Parasite powers weren't working because my powers, my own powers, were sort of forcing them out. Which meant that when I was cloned instead of getting some manged version of my powers like all the other clones did Luna got the whole thing."

And now it was gone. Taylor couldn't say she mourned, really. Tattletale was thinking it over, a frown on her brow.

"But…when you went to meet Luna, not long ago, you fought her. And you didn't fight her like you'd be fighting someone who could only control bugs, I can tell that. She had the same powers as you do, so…"

"It's not just Luna," Taylor said, deciding to cut that particular winding train of thought short, "She managed to copy my powers, sure. She's literally me, it's not that weird. But she then looked at the little cult and-slash-or organisation she was building and thought, you know, why not? And a couple of mad scientist experiments later…"

"She literally gave people powers? Your powers?" Tattletale said. Taylor shrugged.

"Not mine, exactly," she said, "A lot weaker. And it's kinda weird, because it seems like their Parahuman powers carry over a little bit in what skills they're more comfortable with. But yeah. A little bit of mad science and you get a connection to the same plane of existence that fuels my powers. And who wouldn't want that sort of phenomenal power?"

Tattletale opened her mouth, said nothing, closed it again. Taylor grinned, feeling the burn in her eyes intensifying. Hook, line and sinker.

"Sure, this is partly because I can't have Luna having minions when I don't," she said off-handedly, "But when I said to myself, you know, I need someone I can trust, but who isn't straight-laced. Someone who'll make good use of those powers. Someone who'll even try to keep me on my toes – well, you weren't exactly my first choice, afraid Glory gets that one on account of a longer friendship, but you were a very close second. So…"

Taylor rose from her seat, sending it rolling to her left as she leaned on the table and grinned at Tattletale, silver flames casting Tattletale's shadow across the wall, "What do you say?"


Tattletale hadn't said yes. She hadn't said no, either: she'd said that she needed to think about it. Taylor hadn't pressed the issue, although she was sure that Tattletale would say yes. After all, while Tattletale's current power was strong, being a Psyker was so much more versatile. And Tattletale would be a good Psyker, Taylor thought, so long as she could resist the urge to delve too deeply before she actually knew what she was doing. Still, Taylor had pocketed the idol of the Parasite and headed out, the energy of the Warp still burning in her skin and bone even as she pushed it down, the flames blazing in her eye sockets finally extinguished.

The night was still young and Taylor still restless, so once she'd left Tattletale to think on her offer she went for a walk. It wasn't quite as exciting as it might have been in the past, when she would have been at risk of running into members of a dozen different gangs and getting into fights with even more Parahumans, but she felt like it did her good to walk the streets of her home city now and again. Her finger tapped restlessly at her pocket, where the twisted idol of the Parasite lay, as she chewed over her options.

'We know they can die, and we know they're made of a sort of flesh,' she said, 'So why not a disease, or some sort of biological weapon? Presumably they've got a resistance, but if Scion doesn't know about Cauldron we can use them to get it close to him. If it works…I know it's not a grand and heroic battle, but do we really care about that?'

"If it works," the Emperor said, his tone heavy, "These beings have been travelling the stars for a long time, I suspect. They must have developed defences against viruses, bacteria, prions, parasites…"

Taylor grunted in agreement, but she still thought it was worth pursuing. The Parasite was a monstrous being, a planet-eater. Throwing whatever they could at the wall and seeing what would stick was more than a viable strategy, it was the only sensible one. They couldn't rely on Taylor getting strong enough to defeat the beast in time.

Her wandering feet and wandering thoughts carried her along streets, through alleyways and down, down, retracing old footsteps. The paths of old battles, a reminiscing more suited for an old woman than someone who was, at least chronologically, still a teenager. An action packed time, though, and Taylor let her memories carry her along until at last she stood outside the makeshift containment zone for Noelle, the immense creature still sealed in her time-locked prison. Taylor spread her wings, taking to the air long enough to hop over the barrier that had been set up, and approached.

Memories of the vision flickered through her head and Taylor clicked her tongue, remembering how it felt to be locked in a time loop with only her mind free. She made a mental note to begin practicing the time-manipulation powers that the Warp could afford, but for the moment just stood and watched Noelle, looking for any sign of life.

"Time's completely frozen in there," Dauntless said, approaching from behind and to her right. Taylor had felt him standing guard, felt him approach, so she barely moved. Instead she just nodded.

"Have you ever thought of the kind of power it takes to do that?" she asked, "What it means to be able to just stop time? It can't even be estimated, because it doesn't fit into science as we know it. It should be a lot more terrifying than it is."

Dauntless came to stand alongside her, nodding.

"I have wondered," he admitted quietly, voice low in his throat, "What it must be like in there. Is she aware? Does she know that she's paralysed while time continues outside – or will that bubble break, one day after we're all long gone, and she'll come out like only a second has passed?"

"Morbid," Taylor said softly, but no more.

"Sure it is," Dauntless said, "You know, this might sound weird but – I hope she's not suffering. I've read the reports on what happened to people Gray Boy got his hands on and they're awful. I hope she doesn't know anything's happened to her."

Trapped in a time loop, knowing what was happening, never able to escape. Yeah, Taylor could see how that would be alarming. And she had the benefit of knowing that she wouldn't simply age to death while caught in one. An existential fear, that one.

"Do you know what they're doing with this?" Taylor asked, gesturing vaguely at Noelle, "Are they going to move her? Can they move her, even?"

Dauntless shrugged.

"Not sure," he admitted, "I know there was some talk of making her into a kind of monument, you know, a sort of 'Together, Hero and Villain stood as one and defeated a terrible foe' sort of thing, but it seems in poor taste to me."

A monument, Taylor thought dryly, to Cauldron's inability to clean up their own messes.

"Poor taste is definitely one way to put it," she said, "Given that most of the Capes who died were Wards. Hanging out a body, like on a gibbet, is a bit old fashioned."

"Definitely," Dauntless agreed, "I think we're moving more towards trying to move her and store her somewhere safe, or building a facility around her, and then just putting up a statue or something. Hey, if you're lucky you might get a place on the statue as one of the conquering heroes!"

"Urgh."

"Not a fan of statues, then?"

Taylor briefly thought of all the statues that had littered the Imperium, of varying qualities and types, and shook her head.

"Can't say that I am," she said, letting the conversation lapse. She eyed Dauntless out of the corner of her eye, watching him looking at Noelle, and wondered what he was thinking about. She could look, of course, but she sometimes liked to give people privacy – and, if she was honest, Doctor Mother casually dropping Dauntless' real name into conversation had weirded her out. It was just a sketchy, shady thing to do, most people maintained a secret identity for a reason. Taylor wondered if Dauntless had a family that his secret identity was protecting. She didn't ask.

"I've been asked about moving away from Brockton," he said abruptly, "To head a new Protectorate team, somewhere smaller. To get experience in commanding my own team, Legend said, since I'm an up and comer."

"Should I be offering congratulations or commiserations?"

"You could try both," Dauntless said under his breath, just loud enough for Taylor to hear, before raising his voice again.

"I don't know if I'm going to say yes," he said, "It seems like more of the thing about, you know. The whole high potential, next Triumvirate level cape theory that's been going around. I don't know if I've earned it."

"Glad I've avoided that then," Taylor said, "Not that I think they'd give me any kind of responsibility yet. Perks of being, you know, fifteen. Sixteen? Fifteen. What date is it?"

"It's the tenth of July," Dauntless said, "Why?"

Taylor blinked, shaking her head.

"Don't worry about it," she said, briefly wondering how exactly she'd managed to outright miss her birthday. Maybe the endless weight of years that the Emperor shared with her? Probably that.

Either that or she was just too busy to care. Honestly that sounded more likely.

"Anyway," she continued aloud, "Now that I've avoided responsibility via the perks of being sixteen, congratulations. And commiserations. I hope you're going somewhere nice?"

"It's not set in stone yet," Dauntless said – Taylor was pretty sure he'd clocked her change of age, and must have realised that she'd forgotten how old she was, but he was nice enough not to mention it – "But probably the most likely is Anchorage? It's a long way away."

A long way to move a family, if Dauntless had one. Anchorage, Anchorage…Alaska? Quiet, presumably. And cold. The Emperor sent her a memory of a freezing night, just him and the snow and the Northern Lights sprawling across the skies above, and Taylor smiled under her helmet.

"A beautiful place, I hear," she said, "If a bit chilly."

"A bit chilly?" Dauntless said, "That's one way to put it. I'm already looking for a way to add fur to all of my costume."

"Aww," Taylor murmured, "You'll have to ask for some nice new Power Armour. That'll keep you warm."

Dauntless shook his head silently.

"Too much power invested in my current gear," he said sadly, "Way too much. You don't know how lucky you are."

"Arguable," Taylor said, very softly, but she didn't take offence. It was just a turn of phrase, not a real criticism. She looked back up at Noelle.

"Do you ever wonder how much good she could have done if she hadn't been, you know, a monstrous cannibalistic beast?" she asked, "Just imagine. A dozen Alexandrias, Legends, Eidolons to go to every Endbringer fight. No need for cannon fodder, because we've got something much more powerful."

"I don't think the clones would appreciate being fed into the grinder to preserve the originals," Dauntless said, apparently see where her line of thought was going. Taylor thought of Luna and shrugged.

"Hey, if she was sane maybe the clones would be more like constructs, rather than actual people," she said, "Inasmuch as the clones were actual people. You know, given the visible psychological issues that they had. And the physical mutations, in the case of my clones."

"There's probably a whole philosophical discussion to be had on whether or not clones are really people, and the implications of our willingness to kill them when we'd probably avoid killing non-clones," Dauntless said, "There was some talk about it from the PR people, just after the Echidna event."

There's nothing sacred about human life, Taylor thought, and the words lingered on her tongue before she swallowed them. She had, inarguably, been more willing to kill the Noelle clones than regular people – was it because she subconsciously thought of the clones as lesser, or was it because she knew she wouldn't get any pushback on it? Taylor didn't know. Taylor didn't think she wanted to know. That was philosophy for another time.

"I'm surprised they didn't try and grab me," Taylor said, "Then again, I was pretty busy going on the run and then, you know."

Dauntless turned his head to her.

"Killing Coil? It's a bit of an open secret, really."

Taylor didn't look around, but she did expand her powers to make sure that there was no-one nearby. The last thing she needed was someone overhearing and trying to blackmail her. It would just take far too long to deal with other than outright murder. She should probably try and talk around the question, retain plausible deniability, but she couldn't be bothered. It was the truth, after all.

"Yeah," she said, "That. I guess…it's not like Dinah Alcott wouldn't be able to tell people."

"Right," Dauntless agreed quietly, "Out of interest…what was his power? We've taken some guesses, but…"

Taylor shook her head.

"Dead men tell no tales, yeah. He was a pre-cog. It meshed weirdly with my own – I kept having dreams of things that didn't happen, I only realised later. After I – well, after our encounter, I had the last ones. Dreams of him trying various ways to escape."

The remembered satisfaction of killing Coil again and again twisted comfortably in her chest, a lava-hot serpent coiling around her organs and warming her from the inside out, and Taylor smiled faintly.

"Far too reliant on his pre-cognition," Taylor said. Dauntless nodded.

"You know, there's a Ward in Anchorage with pre-cognitive powers," he said, "If I do get assigned there, it might be worth taking a trip up. There aren't really all that many around."

"Not here, anyway," Taylor agreed, "Despite what Tattletale says, she's not pre-cognitive."

"Isn't she?" Dauntless asked, "You're sure? We haven't really seen her in action since the whole fundraising thing."

Taylor nodded – it wouldn't exactly hurt Tattletale for Dauntless to know. Especially if she chose to accept Taylor's offer, because then she really would be pre-cognitive. That would really mess with people. If it did happen, Taylor decided, she'd have to apologise to Dauntless.

"Yeah, she's got a sort of Sherlock Holmes thing going on I think," Taylor said, "Her power's really good at stuff like reading micro expressions and forecasting actions by past actions, that kind of thing."

"Is there a fundamental difference between that and pre-cog?" Dauntless asked. Taylor shrugged.

"Depends on the kind of pre-cog, right?"

"Right," Dauntless agreed, looking back up at Noelle. Taylor reached up and took off her helmet, letting the wind touch her tied back hair and drift across her skin, and let the silence envelop her. It wasn't as quiet as it would have been far above, nearly touching the stars, but it was close.

"Your powers," Dauntless said, slow and quiet, and Taylor turned her head to look at him, "They're growing over time, right? Well, of course they are. We've all seen it. But they're going to…keep growing?"

"To a probably alarming degree," Taylor said, seeing no reason to beat around the bush, "Just like yours, right?"

She remembered that, at least. There'd been a lot of talk about Dauntless, a lot of speculation, especially when it seemed like he was only getting stronger and stronger. Hmm. Similarities, even if Taylor's powers had grown somewhat more rapidly.

"Yeah," Dauntless said, "Yeah. Won't lie, that's why I'm asking. Is that weird?"

Taylor shrugged.

"Probably, but I don't mind. Yeah, I'm getting stronger. It's a combination of things – partly mastery of my powers, partly my connection to the…to the dimension that I draw power from deepening, partly my own strength growing so I can channel more power. The older I get, the stronger I'll get. Until…I don't know until."

That was probably a lie. Taylor expected that she'd probably end up about as strong as the Emperor had been around the start of the Great Crusade. There was a chance that the power of all those souls that had been consumed by the Golden Throne and the Astronomicon would linger, make her even stronger, but Taylor wasn't sure of it. And the possibility that she could reach out to the ascension that the Emperor had denied for so long, claim it as her own? No. No, Taylor didn't think that was possible, and she wasn't going to risk trying it. If it was possible, it would only lead to something like the Corpse-Emperor would have been, a monstrous reflection of their souls. Letting the Parasite destroy humanity would be kinder than that. But she had a conversation to continue.

"So yeah, I'm getting stronger," Taylor said, "Need to keep practicing, though. Engage in combat. That sort of thing."

Dauntless nodded and Taylor tucked her helmet under her arm, fingers tapping at the bottom of it.

"Why?"

Dauntless sighed, long and loud.

"Sometimes, alright, I search for my name on Parahumans Online. Is that narcissistic? It feels like it."

Taylor shrugged.

"Nah, not really," she said, "Getting ahead of the gossip. Keeping the PR solid. I'd do it but my ego is too fragile."

Dauntless gave her a sceptical look before shaking his head.

"They were talking about the time-lock and how my powers grow with time, and someone said – someone said, why don't the Protectorate try to put Dauntless into a time-bubble so his powers can grow faster. And it sounds insane on the face of it, but…what if it would work? I'm a Hero. Shouldn't I be willing to sacrifice some of my life to become powerful enough to save the world?"

"You'd die of dehydration before anything useful happened," Taylor said, ignoring the brief thought in the back of her mind that reminded her that she could survive dehydration and hunger and the passage of time, "And besides, there's no guarantee that it would work. You'll do better work outside a time-loop than inside, assuming it would even work."

"That's what I tell myself," Dauntless said quietly, "But sometimes I, you know, I just struggle to believe it."

Taylor was trying to think of something encouraging to say when the roar of a bike engine cut through the night and Dauntless half turned. Taylor didn't, still looking at Noelle.

"He's like my conscience," she said idly, "Won't leave me alone."

"I don't think he does it on purpose," Dauntless said, although he didn't sound convinced. Taylor laughed.

"Oh, he definitely does," she said, amused, "I don't even blame him for wanting to keep an eye on me. I'd even think that Dragon could be tracking me by satellite if it wasn't, you know, a waste of a satellite. Doesn't the Simurgh keep taking down satellites? I feel like I heard that somewhere."

Dauntless shrugged.

"Not sure," he admitted, "I don't think so, though? It might just be a conspiracy theory."

"Huh."

Taylor briefly wondered how the Simurgh actually made it into orbit: some kind of Parahuman bullshit, she presumed. It would be interesting to see if the Simurgh's infamous scream could affect her, although Taylor wasn't especially eager to try it out. Ideally she'd get strong enough, swing into orbit and obliterate the Endbringer before it even knew she was there.

Fat chance, that, but Taylor was an optimist at heart. The motorbike roared louder for a moment, the engine suddenly cutting into silence as Armsmaster arrived and swung smoothly to a halt, dismounting in a single movement. Taylor watched him from the corner of her eye.

'We should try and visit a quarantine zone,' she said, 'It'd be good to get a look at people who've been Simurghed. See if we can help them, sure, but see if we can find a way to block her scream. Once that's done it's just telekinetic versus telekinetic, and I'm pretty sure we can win that.'

"Research first, and make sure your new technique is ready," the Emperor said, "If the Simurgh decides to intervene with our visit, we should strike to kill. No second chances, not with the Endbringers."

'Agreed.'

"Dauntless," Armsmaster said in greeting, "Circaetus. Was your talk with Alexandria useful?"

Taylor shrugged.

"Same old, same old. Trying to get me to join her again, you know. But this girl's a free spirit, so she'll have to live with the disappointment."

"I'm sure she'll be grief-stricken," Dauntless said. Armsmaster didn't say anything, but Taylor couldn't feel any suspicion in him. If he had a lie detector active, she'd managed to fool it.

"As is everyone. I don't know why, though, because it's not like I'm limiting access to my tech or whatever. She's literally getting the best of both worlds, all of my tech and none of my insubordination."

Armsmaster and Dauntless both looked at her in silence and Taylor cleared her throat.

"All of my tech that I'm willing to share," she corrected, nodding to herself. Dauntless shrugged.

"The PRT Troopers are appreciative," Armsmaster said, "The armour designs you have provided cover less than their current armour, but it is tougher and lighter."

"I do aim to please," Taylor said, turning back to Noelle and considering, "As much as I can."

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but you're looking at Echidna very intensely," Dauntless said, "Is there a…reason?"

"Is it about your failure to defeat Noelle before there were casualties?" Armsmaster bluntly asked. The way he tilted his head immediately afterwards suggested that someone was shouting at him over a communicator, but what Taylor could see of his expression didn't change.

"While it's not the way I'd have put it," Taylor said mildly, "I was looking at Noelle and thinking on the limitations of my powers. I mean, it's not like I couldn't kill her, in theory. I just didn't have anything that would work. Even the Void Prison didn't stop her, you'd need something that could vaporise her in a single blow. Or enough of her, at least."

"Are you implying that you're working on such a technique?" Armsmaster asked. Taylor smiled.

"Of course I am," she said, "Always. Onwards and upwards, right?"

She held out a single hand, frowning in concentration as she drew that remaining restless power out of her flesh, and a sliver of pale light began to accrete in her palm, shivering with suppressed power. More a lightshow than an actual technique, at the moment, but it had a basis – a Blood Angel technique, actually. Just like her wings. Funny coincidence.

"Basically, once it's done it'll be like a blast of pure energy," Taylor said, "Should take out Noelle pretty easily, even if it'll cost most of my energy. I was thinking of calling it White Light Flash, Sundering Heaven," Taylor said. She saw Armsmaster twitch and had to leverage her Biomancy to prevent herself from laughing. She wasn't really going to call it that, although she might have to do some thinking on names. When it came to teaching others, the techniques…techniques? Skills? Powers? Attacks?

Well, no. There was no reason to sugar-coat things. They were spells. Not sorcery – that was a very particular thing with very particular implications that Taylor frankly didn't want to involve herself in, but the difference between Warp powers and magic was essentially academic. It was just a way of channelling the Warp to make things easier. It didn't make as much difference for Taylor, who could bend the Warp to her will, but for a regular Psyker having a set path that gave a set result was invaluable.

Storm of The Emperor's Wrath, for instance. Despite the dramatic name, it was something Taylor could just do herself, without the mantras and gestures and mindset that a Librarian would use. It was just a lightning attack with extra juice. But for the people she'd be making Psykers, it could be useful to have something they could directly copy. Hence, names. Suitably dramatic names, preferably ones that didn't make her look like she had an even bigger ego than she actually had. This would take some thought. She probably wasn't going to end up calling an attack 'White Light Flash, Sundering Heaven'.

Not even for the comedy value.

"The only real problem is," Taylor said, "Any attack large enough to pulverise Noelle, or blast an Endbringer to bits, is going to have backlash. If I break out a fireball big enough to take out Leviathan it's going to set fire to the surrounding county, probably. Even more. So I need to actually work on that."

"Yeah," Dauntless said, "I think you should definitely work on that before you go to any Endbringer fights."

Taylor shrugged.

"Better too much power than too little," she said, "But yeah. Until I'm sure that I'm not going to nuke, you know, the surroundings I'll be careful."

Either Armsmaster or Dauntless probably would have had something to say to that, but Taylor's phone chose that moment to ring. It was pretty obnoxious, as could only be expected of her – was It Wasn't Me tasteless? Maybe, but it deserved to be. It was Luna's ringtone, after all. Taylor stepped away, one hand flicking up to thicken the air around her and keep her voice in.

It was a good thing too, because the moment she answered yells came spilling out.

"Taylor!" Luna shouted down the phone, her voice ragged and frightened in a way Taylor had never heard, "The Fallen are attacking the hospital! Alastor and Cynthia are still down for the count and my powers aren't – oh fuck!"

There was an explosion and Taylor spread her wings, already moving. Luna came back onto the phone for a moment, coughing.

"Just – fucking get here!"

The call dropped and Taylor let her barrier fall.

"Sorry," she called over her shoulder, "Urgent business!"

And, not giving them any time to question her, she took to the skies.


Next chapter in March. As always, reviews are appreciated and I'll see you in the next chapter.