The Kaiser's New Clothes

by Three Rejects

By a twist of fate, Kaiser survives his encounter with Leviathan, at the cost of a second trigger, his dignity, and some severe head trauma. Now he's about to make that everybody else's problem.

9. Chapter 6: Sophia's Bizarre Adventure

The Kaiser's New Clothes

Chapter 6: Sophia's Bizarre Adventure Part 1 - Phantom Crusaders

Sophia Hess panted as she sprinted through the ruined streets. Not because she was pursuing criminals as Shadow Stalker, or fleeing a fight, but simply as part of her normal morning run.

Sure, Brockton Bay may have been smashed to shit, half-drowned, and partially depopulated by Leviathan's recent attack, and the Merchants may have been murdering, raping, and looting all over the place for the past week, but that was no reason to interrupt her morning routine. If anything, the state of the city just made things more exciting. The false social niceties had fallen away, and the animals were finally showing their teeth. It was liberating, in its own way.

Puddles splashed around Sophia's feet as she navigated once familiar but now deformed streets. A gentle sea breeze passed through, cooling the sweat on her skin. Summer was upon Brockton Bay, but the ruined city was pleasantly cool in the mid-morning shade. Ideal work-out temperature, really.

Sophia slowed her run as she passed from the ruined neighbourhoods at the edge of Leviathan's trail of destruction, into the nicer part of downtown where things weren't quite as fucked. She took a drink of her water bottle, wiping the sweat from her brow, and answered a text from Emma. Nothing important. She was just letting her know that Madison had arrived.

Sophia resumed her previous pace until she reached her final destination at Emma's house, running down the road, jumping her fence, and passing through the side gate into her back yard.

Her friend waited for her there at the garden table, having breakfast with Madison, both on their phones. Emma looked fantastic as usual, despite the state of the city right now, though Madison was a little less done up than normal today, since they weren't planning on going out anywhere; most of the good shops and cafes were either closed or destroyed right now.

Emma looked up, and stood from her seat when she noticed her.

"Hey superhero," she said with a grin.

"Hey survivor," said Sophia, leaning over to hug her.

"Ew, you're all sweaty!" Emma blanched, pulling away as she sat back down.

Sophia laughed.

"Comes with the territory. Hey, Mads."

"Hey," Madison said with a simple smile, not rising from her seat.

She tried to give Madison a quick pat on the shoulder, wary of Emma's complaint, but the girl instead wrapped an arm around her midsection, pulling her close and loudly sniffing her armpit.

"Jesus!" Sophia yelled, shoving Madison off and stumbling away. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Comes with the territory," Madison echoed, smiling enigmatically.

Sophia shook her head, muttering under her breath about the "fucking weirdo" as she took a seat as far away from Madison as possible. The other girl shrugged nonchalantly, returning to her phone.

"Good run?" asked Emma.

"Yeah." Sophia grabbed a croissant from Emma's plate. "City's fucked right now, though. Merchants are really stinking up the place. It's getting worse out there. I'm itching to go out and do something about it."

Emma shrugged. "About what I expected."

"Your dad doing okay with all this?" Sophia asked between bites. "Is he still asking you to go to Portland with your mom?"

Emma waved her hand dismissively.

"He's still fretting, but he can deal. If he wants to stay here for his client's divorce, then I can stay here to hang out with my friends. Portland would bore me to fucking tears."

Sophia let out a little snort.

"Ooh!" Madison squeaked happily. "Paperclip posted another chapter!"

"Are you still reading that goddamn horsefucker story?" Sophia groaned.

"It is called clopfic, and it is art," Madison said insistently.

"I'm mostly just following the comment section." Emma picked up a cup of coffee. "It's up to forty pages now. Two thousand comments. They're arguing about Israel and Palestine or some shit."

"I will never understand the appeal of this fucking capefic site," Sophia muttered.

Emma smirked. "You're just mad because nobody writes smut about Shadow Stalker."

"They shouldn't; I'm a minor."

"I could write some!" Madison chirped.

"Please don't."

Emma took a sip of her coffee.

"So what's going on at work? You guys get your replacements yet or what?"

"Not yet. We're supposed to be getting a couple new guys, but I don't know when they're getting here. Still just the five of us for now."

Madison paused, looking up from her phone again and raising an eyebrow.

"Five?"

"Yeah. Me, Clock, Vista, Kid, and Browbeat."

"Who the fuck is Browbeat?"

Sophia gave a tired sigh, eating her croissant instead of answering. Madison looked to Emma instead, who shrugged.

"New guy," Emma said. "Joined right before Leviathan. Blue diamond-patterned costume. He's uh... what did you say, Sophia? Biokinetic?"

"Self-biokinetic," said Sophia, still chewing. "And point-blank telekinetic."

"What does that mean?" asked Madison.

Sophia swallowed.

"Means he's strong and can shapeshift. It's an alright power, but he's kinda lame with it. He got his ass kicked by Regent twice."

Madison's eyes lit up, and she slammed both hands down on the table with a slightly manic grin.

"Shapeshifting? Really? What kind of shapeshifting? What can he do? What can he turn into?"

Sophia leaned away from Madison, and inched her seat closer to Emma.

"He can't turn himself into a gross fucking monster, if that's what you were hoping for," Sophia said flatly, causing Madison's face to fall. "Or at least I don't think he can. He mostly just uses it to become a roided-up freak. He can change his face and physique slightly, but he's still basically human."

Madison let out a wistful sigh.

"That's still so fucking cool... I wish I had powers like that. Or like one of the monster capes. That would be badass."

"Powers are pretty cool," Sophia agreed with an easy smile.

"I wanna fuck Browbeat," Madison said suddenly.

"...Excuse me?"

"Um..." Emma blinked. "What, Mads?"

"You heard me." Madison pouted. "I want to fuck the shapeshifter guy."

Sophia and Emma exchanged a look.

"Well... good for you, Mads," Sophia said slowly, trying to go back to her croissant.

Madison reached across the table and grabbed her wrist.

"No, I don't think you understand," she said, looking Sophia directly in the eyes. "I'm not just expressing my horny thoughts aloud. This is happening. I am going to fuck your teammate. And you are going to help me."

Sophia tried not to show her unease. Her friends knew how she liked to divide and categorise the world into predators and prey. They knew that she saw herself as a predator, and them too, and that this was why she respected them and appreciated their company.

But sometimes she still thought Madison was a little... too predatory.

"Thanks for the offer, Mads, but I'm really not that into him. Or you."

Sophia tried to pull away, but was surprised when her arm didn't budge.

Madison's iron grip tightened, and she took a deep breath.

"Okay, first of all, super hot idea. I like that that's where your mind went. But I actually didn't mean it like that... this time. What I meant was you are going to introduce us, talk me up, let him know I'm interested, and give him a push if he needs one."

"Y-You don't even know this guy!" Sophia shouted, finally throwing Madison's hold off. "Have you even seen a picture of him yet?"

"Doesn't matter if he can shapeshift," Madison said with a smug grin.

"Mads, I have to work with this guy. I am not going to sacrifice a teammate to my crazy friend just so she can satisfy her weird fucking fetishes. This is a bad idea."

"Sophia, you don't understand," Madison said with her best puppy-dog eyes. "This is my dream. It's what I live for! Ever since I was a little girl, all I've ever wanted is to get fucked into unconsciousness by some huge inhuman monster dude with a giant cock, who could pick me up like a toy and take me in every hole I have! Maybe even using tentacles or some other extra appendages to do them all at the same time, like a two-person gangbang—!"

"TMI, Mads," said Emma, wrinkling her nose.

"—But where am I going to find a guy who can do that in Brockton Bay?!" Madison shouted, almost crying. "The only major monster capes around are Trainwreck and the ones in Faultline's crew! Trainwreck is impossible to find, and believe me, I've tried! I got lucky running into that snail guy once, but he thought I was a creep, and rejected me! Said I was a 'devotee,' or something! Also that I was too young. And I can't even meet Newter, because Palanquin won't let me past the doors! I even tried fake IDs a couple times, but the bouncers saw right through it!"

Sophia stared at her, mouth agape.

"You were rejected by Gregor the fucking Snail?"

"So you see my problem, right?!" Madison leaned across the table, grabbing Sophia by her tank-top. "I need this, Sophia! You got a guy our age, in the Wards, who can do freaky shit with his body? Sign me the fuck up! This is the universe saying it wants me to be happy!"

Sophia was silent, and Madison sheepishly let go.

Now free, Sophia held her head in her hands and sighed.

"What the fuck..."

Emma's hand rested on her back. "You okay?"

"No."

Another stretch of awkward silence took over the group.

"...So are you going to help?" Madison asked hopefully.

"...Fine," Sophia said with a huff. "I can already tell I'm going to regret this, but fine."

"Yay!"

Madison bounced around the table, leaping onto Sophia and pulling her into a forceful hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said, repeatedly nuzzling into Sophia's chest.

"Agh! Get the fuck off me!"

She had just about managed to push Madison off when she got a text alert on her PRT phone. The other girl struggled against her, until Sophia roughly shoved her to the ground.

Madison pouted again while Sophia pulled the phone from her pocket.

"Spoilsport." Madison stuck her tongue out.

"You know that sexually assaulting a Ward is a crime, right?" Emma said, dryly.

Madison smiled. "Nah. Sophia loves me too much to arrest me."

"Who said anything about arresting you?" Sophia grumbled. "I used to stab guys in the throat with arrows if I saw them doing that kind of shit to a girl."

Madison mock-gasped.

"Sophie, are you threatening to shove your long, hard shaft into my throat to punish me?"

"Jesus Christ..." Emma shook her head.

"This is what porn addiction does to a person," said Sophia, not looking at Madison as she brought up her messages. "Sad shit. Really pathetic."

"I wouldn't need porn if I could just get railed in the ass by a real life monster guy!" Madison whined.

"Mads, I love you, but please shut the fuck up," Emma said tiredly.

Sophia's eyes quickly scanned over the message. As soon as she had finished reading, she flipped her phone closed.

"...Shit, I gotta go."

"Already?" asked Emma, frowning. "But you just got here!"

"Piggy's called an early meeting," said Sophia, stuffing the phone into her pocket. "Something to do with the Empire. I need to be there."

"Oh. Okay." Emma stood from her seat, holding out one arm. "Catch you later?"

Sophia leaned over and gave her a brief, one-armed hug, keeping a respectful distance this time.

"Sure thing."

As they separated, she looked over to Madison, who stood and held out both her arms, grinning deviously. Sophia raised a warning finger, and stepped carefully around her.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

Madison's grin lessened, but did not entirely disappear as Sophia backed away towards Emma's garden gate, her eyes not leaving Madison the whole time.

"Don't forget, Sophie~" she said in a creepy sing-song voice. "Put in a good word for me with your teammate, and get me my monster cape boyfriend... or else you'll have to be my boyfriend~"

Emma gave Sophia a sympathetic look as she and Madison both waved goodbye. Sophia returned a wave while slowly backing away, keeping her face a stone mask despite the shiver of revulsion that shot through her.

It was only once she was through the side gate and out of sight from her friends that she slumped against the wall with a sigh of relief.

She did not envy Browbeat right now.

---

Theo gulped, standing in the bathroom door of Kayden's apartment. There was a strange man in the bathtub. A strange Japanese man with short hair and a body of lean muscle, who stared back at Theo blankly while sitting upright and holding his knees close to himself. Despite being immersed in steaming hot water almost up to chest level, the man was not naked, but instead wearing a wet black bodysuit, and a bandoleer of knives and grenades. A red mask depicting a grinning, demonic face floated face-up in the water beside him.

"...Father!" Theo called, not looking away from the man.

"What is it?" Max called back.

His father soon walked up behind him, wearing Theo's baggy t-shirt again, and looked over him into the bathroom.

"Ah." Max's reaction was surprisingly understated. "I see you've met our guest. Theo, this is Oni-Lee. Oni-Lee, say hello."

"Hello," Oni-Lee said tonelessly, his expression unchanging.

Max cocked his head. "Oni-Lee, why did you not undress to bathe?"

"You did not tell me to," Oni-Lee replied.

Theo looked to his father, who had paused to consider his response.

"...Okay. In future, when I ask you to go bathe, you should undress before getting in the water. Preferably in private. Understood?"

Oni-Lee gave a silent nod.

"Good."

Max closed the door, putting a hand on Theo's shoulder and leading him away.

"I apologise for that, son. I should have warned you last night that we had guests. I figured since Kayden was out on assignment, and we had the spare bed, it was easier to bring him here."

"Sir, why is Oni-Lee here?" Theo whispered in a panic.

Max frowned.

"Are we still doing the 'sir' thing? I thought I told you you were free to be less formal with me now."

Theo grit his teeth.

"Why. Is Oni-Lee. Here?"

"I am glad you asked." Max patted his son's shoulder. "You see, as part of my mission to de-Nazify the Empire, I am trialing a new idea of accepting non-white members into the gang, to get the men comfortable with the idea of tolerating and working alongside minorities. In addition to hiring the services of a Latino lawyer, I have also conscripted Oni-Lee and a few former ABB followers of his, whom we will be introducing to the others today. The unpowered gang members will be working the shelters with Cricket and our relief teams today, while Oni-Lee I plan to introduce to the others at Medhall."

Theo stared at him.

"Father... that's... I appreciate that you're trying, but... why Oni-Lee? Isn't he... basically a serial killer?"

Max pursed his lips.

"Well... yes. But so is Kayden. So am I. So's Hookwolf, and Night and Fog, and many of our other members whom I'm giving a second chance. I can't throw stones when I live in a glass house, Theo. The important part is that nobody in the Empire is going to be killing anyone else anymore. I'm putting a hard stop to that."

Theo's look was doubtful as he averted his gaze from his father.

"Besides," Max continued, "that isn't... entirely Oni-Lee's fault. His power isn't teleportation; it repeatedly clones and kills him, and as far as I can tell, every new clone suffers minor but compounding mental degradation. This Oni-Lee? He could be the thousandth variation, the ten thousandth, or the millionth. I don't know. But in both a literal and a metaphorical sense, he's not the same man who first set out on this path, and I suspect he's only stayed on it for as long as he has through Lung's direction and sheer inertia. Without those, he's... aimless. He's lost too much of himself. And the man he is now... needs help..."

Max's words were soft, trailing off at the end. Theo tried to decipher his father's emotion, but he couldn't parse it.

All the same, he thought he got the idea. If what his father was saying was true, then Oni-Lee had a truly unfortunate power. As much as he feared the ABB, Theo could sympathise with the man's situation. Hell, if even Max Anders felt pity for him, it had to be bad.

"You're trying to help him?" asked Theo.

His words seemed to snap Max out of whatever reverie he had been falling into, and he answered with a stoic nod.

Theo let out a short breath.

"Fine then. If this is something you have to do, then okay. Just one thing... Does Kayden know about this?"

Max opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, a slamming sound came from the direction of the front door.

"MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAX!" a shrill voice called.

"...I texted her about it," Max said quietly.

Kayden was glowing as she charged into the living room, her face a blinding white, as were the hands she wrapped around Max's neck as she tackled him to the floor in a feral rage.

Theo recoiled from the scene.

"YOU LET ONI-FUCKING-LEE INTO MY HOME?! WITH ASTER HERE?!" Kayden screamed, throttling Max as he lay back on the carpet and repeatedly slamming his head into the floor. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

Two square metal beams with crescent-shaped indents at the heads shot up beneath Kayden's wrists, pushing her arms off and away from him at an angle. Simultaneously, two more identical beams formed on the ceiling and came down on top of her wrists, locking together with the other beams to painlessly restrain her arms in place. The effect left her looking like she was stuck in a medieval pillory.

Theo's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, as he debated whether he should help Kayden or not.

"You know what's wrong with me," Max coughed, massaging his throat and the back of his head as he sat up. "Fucking brain damage."

"Yes, I can see that!" Kayden snarled.

She tried to angle her hands backwards to shoot beams at her restraints, but Max sighed and snapped them open with a wave of his hands before she could manage it.

Gradually, the white light around her faded, though the fury on her face remained.

"God, Max... what the fuck were you thinking?!"

Theo took the opportunity to back away.

"I told you!" said Max. "I'm trying to rehabilitate Oni-Lee by bringing him into the Empire, while also rehabilitating the Empire by exposing them to other cultures!"

"What kind of culture do you think you're exposing us to by bringing Oni-Lee in?" Kayden said disbelievingly.

She sighed, bringing her palm up to her face.

"Look..." Kayden said through gritted teeth. "I can... maybe admit with the benefit of hindsight that the other races aren't all bad, and maybe I was just seeing the worst all the time because I was looking for it. If you're trying to make the Empire give up the old prejudices, then... fine, I guess. I won't fight you on that. But the ABB? They were fucking scum. And Oni-Lee? He's worse than scum. You are not going to convince neo-Nazis to stop hating Asians if Oni-fucking-Lee is their ambassador!"

"Why not?" Max asked.

"Because he is a sociopathic hyper-murderer!" Kayden shouted, throwing her hands in the air.

Max scoffed.

"Night and Fog are 'sociopathic hyper-murderers,' but you don't seem to have any issue associating with them. Crusader tried to murder his disabled little sister, but you're friendly with him too. And let's not forget all the people you've killed. Please, spare me your moral outrage. We both know your objection has no basis in any kind of principle. You yourself insisted that you're not a good person when I tried to say otherwise."

Kayden glared at him, folding her arms, but said nothing.

"Um..." Theo winced as he drew their attention back to him. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but... Father is right. I hate the ABB. I think they're evil. But there's nothing they really do that the Empire doesn't do as well."

"Except human trafficking," Kayden said with a sneer.

"Yeah." Max rolled his eyes, walking away and collapsing into a nearby armchair. "Imagine white people trading slaves. Crazy idea. Would never happen."

Theo watched as his father adjusted the seat, reclining the back, and raising up a footrest.

"When did we get a La-Z-Boy?" he asked.

"You like?" Max grinned at him. "It was Lung's! Oni-Lee and I went looting a bunch of old ABB stash houses last night. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to have it. It's cool, right?"

Kayden's glare softened a moment, before quickly returning, just as intense as before.

"Okay, fine!" She threw her hands in air again. "You're right! I'm a racist, I make excuses for white criminals that I wouldn't for Asian ones, and that's bad! Fine! That's still not a good reason to bring Oni-Lee into the gang! If you're trying to reform us all or whatever, shouldn't the lesson be to hold ourselves to a better standard, not to start making the same excuses for the ABB as well, and inviting in even more bad influences?"

"I am holding all of us to a better standard," Max said primly, steepling his fingers over his chest as he continued to lounge in his seat. "Oni-Lee isn't going to be doing any human trafficking or going on any killing sprees from now on, just like we aren't. What Theo said is true; there's almost no crime he's guilty of that we haven't also committed at some point. If you or I deserve any level of lenience or amnesty, then Oni-Lee does as well, and I dare you to come up with a counter-argument without mentioning his race."

Kayden let out a defeated sigh, slumping her shoulders.

"What about the fact that he hates us?" she said bitterly, not looking at him. "That the ABB hates all of us, and that they'll hurt our family if you bring them into our home? Did you think about that?"

"Nonsense. Oni-Lee is harmless to us. Hey, Oni-Lee!"

Max leapt out of his seat and marched over to the bathroom door. He quickly knocked twice, and then opened it.

"Oni-Lee, do you hate us? Do you want to hurt us?"

Theo moved over to peer through the door. Oni-Lee was still sitting fully dressed in the bath.

"Do you... want me to?" he asked, tilting his head and furrowing his brow.

"No, thank you... Why are you still not undressed?"

"You told me to get undressed before bathing in future," Oni-Lee answered. "Did you also want me to get undressed now?"

Silence lingered.

"You see?" said Max, turning back to Kayden. "Harmless."

"Should I do a striptease?" Oni-Lee asked, monotone.

Theo recoiled.

"What the fuck?" asked Kayden.

"Say again?" said Max.

"Lung would often ask me to strip for him." Oni-Lee gave a solemn nod, partially rising from the bathtub and holding the zipper at the top of his costume. "Would you like me to strip for you?"

"Oh, wonderful!" Kayden smacked her forehead. "So he's gay, too! No, not just gay! Lung's personal gigolo! Yeah, this is going to go over really well with the rest of the Empire! Great plan, Max!"

"I fail to see how this changes anything," Max said sullenly.

Oni-Lee's eyes darted between the three of them, and he hesitantly began unzipping his costume.

"No, no, no!" Max shouted. "That's fine! YOU CAN STOP NOW!"

A knocking at the front door interrupted them, and Theo grabbed the opportunity to run and answer it, eager to get away from whatever the fuck was going on with the brain-damaged gay serial killer in their bathtub.

Theo checked through the spyhole first, in case it was someone dangerous. An unfamiliar boy around his age waited outside, standing a distance back from the door. He seemed unremarkable in most ways, with short brown hair and an average build, wearing a light jacket over a faded Slayer t-shirt. He idly looked up and down the hallway, while leaning back and forth on the balls of his feet, until Theo opened the door a crack to poke his head out.

"Uh... hey," said the stranger, waving a hand. "This the... Anders home?"

Before Theo could speak, his father was behind him again, pushing the door fully open.

"Ah, young Andrew..." he said with an enigmatic smile. "Just in time. Please, come in."

Theo moved aside as the other boy stepped over the threshold, the two staring at each other as Max put hands on both their shoulders and led them in.

Kayden glared at them all as Max stepped into the living room, but he only grinned at her.

"Andrew, this is Kayden." Max gestured to her. "You might know her better as Purity."

Andrew cleared his throat.

"Hello, ma'am."

"Hello," Kayden said icily, crossing her arms.

"You've already met my son, Theo, of course." Max indicated Theo next.

"Umm... hello?" Theo said, awkwardly holding out a hand.

The other boy hesitantly reached out and shook it.

"Hi. You can call me Andy."

The bathroom door suddenly opened. A soaking wet Oni-Lee stepped out, now wearing his mask again, as well as a towel around his waist, dripping water over the carpet.

"...Aaaaaand this is Oni-Lee," said Max, his smile wavering. "Say hello, Oni-Lee."

"Hello," said Oni-Lee, unmoving.

Andy nervously stared at the man's bandoleer of knives and grenades.

"Young Andrew here is one of the Empire's hopefuls," said Max, turning to Kayden. "But following certain... recent incidents, he has been hoping to get into a less violent line of work. Something more legitimate. To that end, he will be helping Theo to babysit Aster today."

Kayden's already furious eyesbrows raised.

"Oh, wonderful," she said through gritted teeth, voice dripping with venom. "Another stranger you're letting into my home and trusting my daughter's life to without asking me. Golly gee, Max, how did I ever get so lucky?"

Max still smiled, but it looked strained this time.

"How about we go talk in the other room? Hmm? You boys will be alright with Oni-Lee for a minute, won't you?"

Theo looked over to the dripping wet ninja, whose head turned a fraction to stare back at him.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh..."

"Great!" Max placed a hand on Kayden's shoulder, leading her away as she fumed.

"...Wow." Andy cleared his throat. "Umm... sorry, man, this is just... a lot."

Theo sighed. "I know. I'm sorry for... whatever my father did to rope you into this."

Andy shook his head.

"It isn't like that. He didn't threaten me. I could've walked away. But he's giving me a second chance. I'm making up for my fuck-ups."

"You're... in the gang then?" Theo shifted uneasily. "You're initiated?"

"Not... really," Andy said, just as uneasy. "I was supposed to be. Never got that far. I mean, I tagged along with the guys on business a few times, but I never..."

Theo nodded.

"...Good."

"Good?" Andy blinked.

"Yeah." Theo nodded again, more confident this time. "Good."

"He is not Empire?"

The boys both startled, having almost forgotten that Oni-Lee was still standing there, watching them.

"Oh, uh..." Theo stammered.

"Should I kill him?" Oni-Lee nonchalantly drew his katana.

Andy immediately ducked to hide behind Theo.

"Oh God, not again!"

---

Sophia had already changed into Shadow Stalker's outfit by the time she arrived at the PRT HQ, gliding down from a nearby rooftop to land in front of the doors. It saved time compared to travelling across town the slow way, and all the procedures and sneaking around before she could get changed inside were always a hassle. The troopers on duty gave her respectful nods and salutes as she arrived, letting her pass into the main lobby without issue.

She noted that the Wards' official portraits had been moved to hang over the front desk, just below the PRT logo. With the building currently closed to the public, the front desk was unmanned, leaving Sophia undisturbed as she walked by to get a closer look at them. Aegis and Gallant's portraits had been reprinted in greyscale with thick black frames, and a number wreaths and flowers had been left below the pictures by PRT employees.

"Hi guys," said Sophia, waving at the portraits without stopping. "Still dead, I see."

Fuck you, Shadow Stalker, she imagined Aegis replying, as he often had in life.

A few guarded doors and passwords later, she was sauntering down the corridor to the Ward HQ, where one of her teammates was trying and failing to operate the eye-scanner.

"Browbeat," Sophia greeted.

Browbeat was a towering hulk of a boy, dressed in an unflattering diamond-patterned blue spandex costume and mask, which made him look like a Mexican wrestler. He looked up at Shadow Stalker as she called, pulling away from the scanner with a defeated sigh.

"I can't remember what I made my eyes look like for the scan."

"You didn't just use your default?" Sophia asked.

She leaned over to show the scanner the eye-holes of her mask.

"No. In retrospect, I should have."

The door opened, and Sophia smirked.

"Hmm. Well, that's pretty dumb of you. Too bad the biokinesis doesn't work on your brain, huh?"

Browbeat's mask creased in a way Sophia recognised as frowning.

"Fuck you, Shadow Stalker." His tone was mildly annoyed rather than actually angry.

"Oh, speaking of, a friend of mine wants to fuck you," Sophia said casually, walking in without looking at him. "Don't ask me why."

He blinked. "What—"

She was already away before he could fully respond, stepping into the dome-shaped room that was the central area of the Wards HQ. Dennis was taking a hushed phone call on the far side of the room, while Missy was sitting in one of the chairs by the wall of computer monitors, impatiently tapping her foot.

Sophia drew up a chair of her own a little ways away, dropping into it.

"Hey, Vista. Still a midget with no tits, I see."

Yeah, it was low-hanging fruit, but she really couldn't be bothered to bring her A-game today.

Missy scowled. "Fuck you, Shadow Stalker."

At least it still got results.

Browbeat soon sat down next to her, muscles shrinking as he pulled off his mask and settled down. Sophia took off her own as well.

Dennis came to join them once he finished his call, still notably less jovially annoying than he had been before Leviathan, with bags under his eyes, and his red hair tangled into a knotted mess.

"Hi, Clock," Sophia said, smiling. "Dad still dying?"

His head snapped around to her, fixing her with a hateful glare.

"Fuck you, Shadow Stalker!" he snarled.

Her smile became a grin, which only seemed to piss him off more. He chose to turn away and take a seat as far away from her as possible, rather than say anything else.

Sophia appreciated Clockblocker's bold new direction since Leviathan came to town. She knew that the rest of the team didn't like it, but for her, the old Dennis was basically a teenaged Mr. Gladly but ginger, so she found the new Dennis far more tolerable. Even almost kind of respectable at times. She especially liked whenever she actually got him to snap like he had just now, which was a lot easier now with him so on edge all the time. It was a whole different side to him, and she liked seeing it. Jokey class clown jackass Dennis? Fucking lame. Annoying. A waste of her time. But angsty angry asshole Dennis who looked like he wanted to throttle her? Yum.

Chris was the last to arrive, emerging from his personal workshop as the door alarm sounded, warning them that someone was entering Ward HQ.

"Hey, Kid," said Sophia, crossing her arms. "How's that new half of a project going?"

"Fuck you, Shadow Stalker," Chris sighed tiredly, slumping into a chair next to Browbeat.

Sophia pumped her fist.

Hat trick!

"Language," Director Piggot said sharply as she entered the room, marching up behind them.

Chris sat up abruptly.

"Yes, ma'am!"

A tall girl carrying an arbalest followed the Director into the room, dressed in a familiar skintight deep purple costume, with platinum-white armour panels. She lifted the tinted visor of her helmet, revealing the smiling face of a Japanese girl around Sophia's age, and gave the Wards a friendly wave, though mostly directed towards Sophia.

"Oh, hey, it's you." Sophia gave a respectful nod. "Crossbow girl."

"Flechette." The new girl smiled wider and nodded back. "Good to see you again."

"I recognise you," said Chris. "You were here for Leviathan, weren't you?"

"That's right. With the New York Wards."

Director Piggot cleared her throat.

"Flechette here is joining us on temporary assignment to fill out your team's numbers until we can establish a new, more long term team roster. We had originally scheduled her to arrive a week from now, but with the situation in Brockton Bay being what it is, I placed an urgent request to New York and Boston to speed up our new transfers. Flechette has graciously agreed to join us ahead of schedule to provide you all with additional support. I hope that you will all make her feel welcome on the team during her stay here."

A round of generic polite greetings took place, after which Flechette introduced herself as Lily, said a few token words of respect for Aegis and Gallant, and took her seat next to Sophia at Piggot's prompting. The whole thing reminded Sophia too much of whenever the teachers at Winslow would drag up some new kid in front of the class for introductions. It was a very awkward way to meet a new teammate, but Sophia wouldn't hold it against her; Flechette was a fellow crossbow aficionado, had shown up to an Endbringer fight, and Sophia remembered her punching holes in Leviathan with her power, so she was probably cool.

"Now, that isn't all I called you in for today," Director Piggot said severely, looking each of them in the eyes. "There is a reason beyond the obvious why I accelerated the new transfers, and it has to do with new developments concerning the Empire Eighty-Eight."

Piggot held up a remote, pressing a button and bringing up a series of images on the monitors behind her. The largest screen displayed a picture of a smiling Kaiser in his civilian identity, looking directly at the camera. The picture appeared to be a screenshot from a video call. Sophia tilted her head as she noted how odd he looked, his usual clean and sophisticated look replaced by an unkempt blond beard and a baggy t-shirt, utterly incongruous with his smarmy attitude.

"Maximum Anders." Piggot pointed at the screen. "AKA, Kaiser. AKA, the leader of the Empire Eighty-Eight."

"Wait, his name is Maximum?" Lily interjected, turning to Sophia. "That's not even a real name! Who calls their kid Maximum?"

Sophia shrugged. "Allfather, apparently."

"You think that's bad?" Dennis said with a wan smile. "Turns out an old dead Empire cape called Iron Rain was his sister. Her real name was Minimum Anders. Minnie for short."

Chris and Missy both smirked.

"Oh, Jesus." Lily tried and failed to stifle a laugh. "No wonder they grew up evil!"

"Indeed," Piggot said testily, silencing the group. "Regardless, yesterday Mr. Anders contacted the PRT, claiming that he and many other senior members of the Empire had been long term victims of mastering from the Pied Piper of Gesellschaft, from which they have been recently freed, and claiming his intentions to reform his organisation and cooperate with us."

"Oh, fucking bullshit!" Sophia shouted, standing up.

"Shadow Stalker," Piggot said dangerously.

She didn't need to elaborate. Sophia sullenly sat back down, smouldering.

"Needless to say, the whole story is a brazen lie," Piggot continued. "Dragon even ran Kaiser's call through the lie detection algorithm written by Armsmaster to confirm it, which returned a ninety-eight percent certainty that he was lying, at least during his explanation of the alleged mastering."

Sophia relaxed, letting out a breath.

"However..." A dark look crossed Piggot's face. "The lie detection program is not foolproof, nor are its results considered sufficient evidence in a court of law. And while outstanding warrants on the Empire's powered members do allow us to attempt arrests on them if we are able, the fact remains that these claims will make their cases laboriously difficult to prosecute."

Sophia's nostrils flared. She had to fight back the urge to stand up and shout again.

"I know that this is frustrating news," said Piggot, holding up a hand. "But while it is true that Kaiser's lies fall far short of proving their innocence, the unfortunate reality is that the burden actually falls on the prosecution to prove their guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. And claims of mastering – particularly with a cape such as Pied Piper, whose power we know so very little about – serve well to muddy the waters on these matters, and create just such a doubt. As such, for the time being, the Chief Director and myself have made the difficult decision to back off from the Empire until further notice."

Unable to hold back anymore, Sophia stood again, throwing her chair over.

"No way!" she snarled, pointing at Piggot. "No fucking way are you letting the goddamn Nazis get away with everything after all the shit they've done!"

"Calm yourself, Shadow Stalker," Piggot said firmly.

"No!" Sophia threw her mask to the ground too. "I'm not gonna be fucking calm about this! You're telling me we're giving the Empire a free pass? The fucking Empire? You'll give me probation for getting rid of the scum on the streets in a way you don't like, but the Empire can sell drugs, preach hate, rape, kill, steal, and blow shit up for years and you're fine with it? Why? 'Cause dealing with Kaiser's fancy fucking lawyers is too much hassle for the PRT? Bet you wouldn't think it was too much hassle if the Empire were a black gang!"

"Fuck you, Shadow Stalker!" Piggot snapped.

Sophia blinked, and the others all stared at the Director. The new girl's eyes bounced between all of the other Wards, as if to confirm for herself that the Brockton Bay regulars were as shocked by the outburst as she was.

Wow, thought Sophia. I wasn't even trying for that one.

Piggot let out a tired sigh.

"...Apologies. That was uncalled for." She narrowed her eyes. "However, I do not appreciate your insinuations. You have every right to voice your opinions, Shadow Stalker, and I will not stop you from doing so, but racial bias is a serious accusation, and one which we both know you are making frivolously in this case. You know full well my stance on the Empire; I was leading the fight against Allfather while you were still in kindergarten. I have seen the aftermath of their crimes, spoken with the families of their victims, and have been doing so for over ten years. I have made no secret of the fact that I regard the Empire as a stain upon this city, and the lowest form of scum, so kindly do not insult me by implying that I have any sympathies for them."

Sophia folded her arms sullenly.

"Yes, ma'am," she mumbled, looking at the floor. "Sorry, ma'am."

She actually kinda meant it this time, too.

"Apology accepted." Piggot nodded primly.

She paused, seeming to consider something.

"This information does not leave this room. But if it is any consolation to you, know that I opposed this decision. I am not in favour of cooperation with criminal elements, especially not the Empire, but I must abide by my superiors' decisions. The strategy of our response came based on advisories from Watchdog, and was handed down as a direct and very emphatic order from Chief Director Costa-Brown – who, need I remind you, as a Hispanic woman, has very little reason to sympathise with the Empire herself."

"What do you mean by 'emphatic'?" asked Chris.

Piggot's mouth twisted, and she paused again, obviously debating how much to share.

"...Once more, this does not leave this room. But if you must know, the Chief Director's exact words were – and I'm quoting here – 'Do not effing touch Kaiser right now. Jesus, God, Emily, you have no idea what a disaster that would be for us. This is an order. Back the eff off the Empire now. I am dead effing serious. Holy ess. Do not eff with Kaiser, or we are all effing effed. I swear to God.' End quote."

Sophia and the rest of the Wards all stared in stunned silence.

"Except, well, she didn't censor herself like I did," Piggot amended.

"Is the Chief Director usually that..." Missy cleared her throat. "Explicit?"

"No, she is not," Piggot said evenly. "In fact, that whole outburst was actually quite out of character for the woman, in my personal experience of her. That is precisely why we are all taking this so seriously. If Kaiser's ploy has even the Chief Director rattled to this extent, then we know it's a battle we don't want to fight."

"Oh... come the fuck on!" Sophia growled. "He's just some rich racist asshole who can grow metal spikes! He's not all that! What the hell are they all so afraid of?"

Piggot glared at her.

"Be that as it may, Shadow Stalker, we have our orders, and you will abide by them. Until further notice, you are not to target or harass unpowered Empire members unless directly intervening in a crime in progress, and you are not to engage with any of their capes under any circumstances, period. If you see any suspicious activity, or even just see them out and about in the city, then call it in to console, but otherwise do not engage. That goes for all of you. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," the Wards chorused.

Piggot nodded.

"Shadow Stalker, Browbeat, your patrol is up next. I suggest you both prepare. And Shadow Stalker? Commander Calvert wished to speak with you before you leave today. Please go see him in his office at your earliest convenience. Flechette, your first patrol will be this evening, so please take the day to familiarise yourself with the facilities and your information pack. And once again, welcome to the team."

"Yes, ma'am." Lily saluted. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You are all dismissed."

As everyone got up to leave, Browbeat turned to Sophia with a questioning look.

"We'll talk on patrol," she promised.

He accepted that with a silent nod, as Sophia turned away and made for the exit to see Commander Calvert.

The new girl followed her, catching up before she made it to the door.

"Hey, um..." Lily brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Sorry. I know you've probably got a lot on your mind. But since we probably won't get a chance to patrol together for a while, do you... maybe want to hang out sometime soon? I'm new in town, and don't really know anyone here other than you and the girl who made the stuffed animals, so it would be nice to... you know, get to know you some more. And you seem like you could use somebody to talk to right now. I'm a good listener, if you wanted to... vent, or whatever."

Sophia stared at her, expressionless. The other girl's face slowly turned red.

"I'm straight, so you know," Sophia eventually answered, dispassionately.

"What?" Lily spluttered, face fully flushed. "I didn't—! That's not... I-I just meant, hang out as friends! I wasn't... asking you out or anything!"

"Uh-huh," Sophia answered with a dull monotone and a half-lidded expression. "Listen, you seem cool, so if you wanna hang out later, we can do that. I'm just letting you know now, don't expect any more than that. I already have one aggressively horny gay friend who won't stop hitting on me, and I don't need another."

Well, technically Madison was bi, or pan, or whatever the hell they called it, but it was all the same shit to Sophia, so she really didn't care; Madison hit on girls and ate pussy, and as far as Sophia was concerned, that made her gay.

"I-I—! You—!" Lily tried for an offended glare, but kept tripping over her words. "F-Fuck you, Shadow Stalker! I'm not like that!"

Wow, six out of four, Sophia idly noted.

"...I mean... okay yeah, I'm gay, but I'm not being... sketchy about it," Lily continued. "I really do just want to be friends."

"Sure. Whatever." Sophia rolled her eyes.

Lily hugged her arms to her shoulders, self-consciously looking away from her. She was still blushing, and her whole demeanour reeked of embarrassment and submission. Sophia had to clamp down on her instinctive annoyance from how much it reminded her of Hebert. If this were Winslow, Sophia probably would have already punished Lily for this social mistake, and put the other girl in her place in some suitably dramatic and hilarious fashion. Most likely by feeding her to Madison.

But unlike Hebert, Flechette had at least proved her hero credentials going up against Leviathan, and Sophia did have to work with her going forwards, so she'd let it slide this time. The last thing she needed right now was more team drama, or another excuse for Piggot to go off on her. And besides, maybe Lily could still redeem herself if given the chance? It wasn't like Emma had been a winner straight from the start either; she'd needed Sophia to build her back up first.

With a reluctant sigh, Sophia extended an olive branch, reaching out and patting Lily on the shoulder. She stiffened noticeably under her brief touch.

"We'll talk later."

Lily didn't speak, instead answering with a small smile and a tight nod. Sophia took the opportunity to leave before the encounter could get any more awkward, waiting until she was back on the other side of the security door before rolling her eyes again.

Sometimes Sophia wished she really was gay. Well, actually no, not really, because then she would have to deal with double the shit from the Empire kids in Winslow, and that could get pretty dicey when she couldn't use her powers. But some days, she thought that if she were gay, then her uncanny ability to make all the thirsty lesbians like Lily and Madison melt – and all the deep closet cases like Emma and Hebert sweaty and confused – would actually feel rewarding, rather than just irritating like it currently was.

Instead, she got all of the dyke drama with none of the satisfaction, while all the good-looking guys who she was actually interested in were all either scared of her, too dense, or were shacking up with ugly bitches like Hebert for some fucking reason. It boggled the mind.

Sometimes, it was enough to drive a girl to murder.

---

Oni-Lee pondered his surroundings as he followed Kaiser and Purity into the Medhall building. It wasn't that he had any particularly deep thoughts on the subject of being invited into the stronghold of his previously most hated enemies. It was more just idle curiosity at the change of scenery. When he was with Lung, the places he visited were casinos, brothels, and warehouses, all either gaudy and decorative, or starkly utilitarian.

Medhall was a very different setting. Official. Corporate. But in a shitty, run-down kind of way that reminded Oni-Lee of the abandoned buildings and low-income dwellings in the ABB's former territory. Even with his limited imagination, he had to guess that Medhall didn't usually have this many wooden boards and hasty patches of plastering everywhere.

A messy blonde woman at the front desk with reddened eyes and running make-up stared at them when she saw him trailing behind Kaiser and Purity in his still slightly damp outfit and mask, but Oni-Lee paid her no attention.

"Um..." the woman at the desk stuttered. "G-Good morning, sir... Mrs. Anders... You seem to have Oni-Lee with you today."

"That we do, yes," Kaiser said with a charming smile, still in his casual wear rather than the armour Oni-Lee typically knew him for. "Elevator fixed yet?"

"N-No..." The woman shook her head, tears suddenly welling in her eyes. "They... They tried again last night, but it... fell into the basement, and crushed— We... We lost Steven, sir!"

The woman burst into sobs while Oni-Lee stared at the peeling wallpaper.

"Fuck," Kaiser muttered under his breath. "I'll need to send flowers to his wife..."

"I... I'm his wife!" the woman wailed.

Kaiser sucked in a breath through his teeth, while Purity glared at him.

"Ohhhhkay..." said Kaiser. "My condolences, ma'am. Oni-Lee! Why don't you come with me to the break room while Kayden takes care of... this situation?"

Oni-Lee nodded, following Kaiser into the stairwell.

The climb was long, and Oni-Lee several times felt the itch to teleport and shorten the journey, even if only by a little bit. But he suppressed the urge, remembering Kaiser's words. Teleporting would kill him, and he had been ordered not to kill himself anymore.

Still, suicide had never been so tempting.

After an unknown length of time, they passed through a set of double doors into what looked to be a canteen. A counter lined with glass sneeze-guards ran along one wall, dividing the seating area from a kitchen in the back. Two overworked women served behind the counter, one cracking open a wooden supply crate with a crowbar and fishing out a pack of soup cans, while the other made a coffee for an overweight security guard.

The tables around the canteen hosted dozens of men and women in various states of dress, drinking beer, or eating soup, or simply conversing with each other. Some were in office shirts or business suits, like it was just another day at Medhall. Others were very obviously gangsters, proudly sporting their shaved heads and swastika tattoos. And a few, now that Oni-Lee looked closely, appeared to be parahumans, as Rune, Hookwolf, Stormtiger, and some old guy with giant eyebrows whom he didn't recognise sat together at one table, their masks either off or pulled up to allow them to drink.

"Okay, so... how does it work?" Rune was saying as they approached their table. "I mean, like, are you weak to garlic? Sunlight? Crosses? Do you need to, uh... sleep in a coffin with earth from your homeland? Do you have a reflection in mirrors?"

The eyebrow man laughed.

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't indulge you by revealing all my weaknesses," he said with a roguish grin. "But for the record, yes, sunlight is bad for me, and I am weak to certain holy powers and blessings, if they're delivered by a legitimate priest."

He looked aside, finally noticing Kaiser and Oni-Lee standing beside their table, whom Hookwolf and Stormtiger also acknowledged with begrudging nods.

"Wait, so..." Rune's eyes widened, ignoring them still. "Holy shit, does that mean Christianity is confirmed one hundred percent real? God, Jesus, the Bible, it's all true?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" The eyebrow man shook his head, laughing. "I meant from an Aztec priest."

"...Huh?"

"Yeah," Hookwolf said with a shrug. "Aztec or Mayan mythology is the one true religion. That's why vampires are a thing. Cutting out hearts to sacrifice to the sun god n' shit? Sacrifices go wrong, heart's not removed right, you get an immortal dead guy who's weak to sunlight, heart stabbings, and the symbols and blessings of the Aztec gods."

Rune's mouth hung open.

"What the fuck?!"

"Ahem," said Kaiser. "If you're quite done, I'd like to introduce you all to our new colleague—"

"No! I'm not done!" Rune protested. "I need someone to explain the Aztec thing!"

Kaiser frowned at her. "Rune, you can chat with Nietzsche later. We have more present business to discuss."

"You can't all keep dropping these world-altering bombshells on me, and then tell me not to ask questions! I want to know about the fucking Aztec vampires!"

"I am a Visigoth, not an Aztec," said the man apparently named Nietzsche, raising a finger. "I was born in Dacia not long before the fall of Rome... In fact... I was at the fall of Rome..."

Rune stared at him.

"Again, there will be time for trading life stories later," Kaiser said firmly. "We have more important matters to address right now! First of all, Oni-Lee is here! Say hello, Oni-Lee!"

"Hello," said Oni-Lee.

Nietzsche watched him uncertainly, while Hookwolf let out a little snort.

"Fucking Christ..." Hookwolf muttered, taking a drink of beer.

"So we're really doing this?" Stormtiger sneered. "You're actually letting chinks into the Empire now?"

"Do you want to prove your innocence to the PRT or not?" asked Kaiser, glaring at him. "Because I am working very hard here to overhaul our images, and you are not helping at the moment!"

"Woah, woah, hey!" Stormtiger raised his hands. "I wasn't questioning orders, I was just—"

"Shut the fuck up, Stormtiger," Kaiser snapped. "I am sick of you already. You with your stupid lame wind power, and your dumb fucking animal theme that doesn't relate in any way. An animal that comes from fucking Asia, by the way. Stormtiger... The fuck is a stormtiger anyway?"

"It..." Stormtiger blinked, visibly unbalanced. "It's... um... a play on the sturmtiger? Like the German tank gun?"

"You named yourself after a fucking pun," Kaiser growled. "Who came up with that? Was it Krieg? Did you seriously let Krieg name you? You let that little bitch-boy stick you with a fucking pun name? That's almost more embarrassing than if you came up with it yourself. Why did nobody ever just let me name them Blitz while we still had the chance? Themed pair names are great! And fuck anyone who says otherwise!"

Stormtiger's lip wobbled, and his eyes began watering.

"Oh my God, he's crying," Kaiser groaned. "Brad, get him the fuck out of here. We've got sensitivity training today, and I'm not dealing with this little pussy bawling through the whole thing. "

"A'ight." Hookwolf knocked back the rest of his beer and stood, grabbing Stormtiger by the neck and hauling him up with him. "Come on, George. Let's get you cleaned up."

Oni-Lee watched as Hookwolf led Stormtiger away to the restroom. While they left, Rune turned back to Nietzsche.

"So if Aztec mythology is the one true religion, does that mean all of Aztec mythology? 'Cause... don't they have a myth that the entire world is the skin of some giant crocodile thing or something?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked! You see—"

"Nietzsche, I apologise for interrupting, but would you do me a favour and take Rune up to the auditorium, please?" asked Kaiser. "The seminar will be starting in fifteen minutes, and I don't want either of you to be late."

"Certainly," Nietzsche replied. "Come along, young Rune! I know you wanted to learn about Aztec vampires today, but learning about workplace etiquette can be just as interesting in its own way!"

Rune let out a whine while he led her away, and Kaiser gestured for Oni-Lee to follow him while he moved towards the middle of the room. As they maneuvered between other tables, Oni-Lee finally began to take notice of all the men who had been glaring at him since they had arrived.

"Your attention please!" Kaiser announced to the room, bringing the dull roar of conversation in the canteen to a lull. "I would like to introduce you all to the Empire's newest member! You know him as Oni-Lee of the ABB! But today, he is here as one of us! Oni-Lee, introduce yourself."

Oni-Lee stepped forward, looking over the cafeteria of hostile neo-Nazis.

"Hello," he said evenly. "I am Oni-Lee. I am honourary Aryan. White power!"

He raised a hand into the air, copying the Empire's favourite salute, and the sea of angry glares soon turned to looks of confusion and bafflement. Oni-Lee took this a positive sign.

"Okay, that's... not what I expected you to say, but... fine," Kaiser said with a perturbed look.

Oni-Lee nodded.

"Listen, all!" Kaiser stepped forward again, placing a hand on Oni-Lee's shoulder. "Since renouncing and cutting ties with the Gesellschaft, the Empire has begun a new chapter in our history! One of coexistence with the America that is, rather than a losing battle for an America that was. You all have stood by me as we've made this transition, and I am proud of all of you for that. I know I have asked much of you already, and that many of you have had doubts. I regret that I now must ask one more thing of you.

"To make it through the coming days, to convince the PRT of the sincerity of our story, and to allow the Empire to survive, I ask you now to prove to them the truth of my claims, and show the world our ability to adapt. Our ability to tolerate and work with the other races when called upon. Many of you will have fought the ABB. Many of you, I have no doubt, will have lingering grudges still. I ask you now, for the good of the Empire, for the sake of your comrades and neighbours, to set aside these grudges, if only for a time, and to accept Oni-Lee here as our first non-white honourary member."

The crowd began murmuring, but Kaiser held up a hand to halt them.

"I do not ask you to like him. I do not ask you to be friends with him, to ignore his identity, or to forget his past crimes. I ask only that you tolerate his presence. Lung and Bakuda are gone. The ABB is gone. Oni-Lee's only loyalty now is to us. He now shares our mission, to support the Empire and to protect your friends and family. And if you will allow him, and accept him among you just for a short while... then you may find that he too has value to the Empire, just like all of you."

Kaiser smiled at the crowd, who shifted uneasily under his gaze.

"I shall now depart, for I have matters to attend to. I leave Oni-Lee in your good company, and hope that you will all take my words to heart, and make him feel welcome to the Empire. Do not let my trust in you be misplaced. Thank you all."

The room echoed with half-hearted applause as Kaiser turned to leave, leaning over to whisper into Oni-Lee's ear as he passed.

"Defend yourself or run if they attack you, but no teleporting if you can help it, and please no killing or permanent maiming. Okay?"

Oni-Lee nodded.

With that, Kaiser disappeared back into the stairwell, leaving Oni-Lee alone and surrounded on all sides by white supremacists.

Some of the skinhead thugs stood from their tables, approaching him. Medhall office workers and security guards joined them. Oni-Lee tensed as they began to form a ring around him, twisting his neck to observe the ones gathering behind him as well. His hand rested on the sheathed katana at his side, as he began considering whose legs to cut first if he had to force his way through these men to escape.

The crowd parted at the back, in front of Oni-Lee, as the skinheads and office workers made way for a pair of parahumans he hadn't noticed in the room before. Night and Fog approached together, the former in her usual black costume with the cowl, cape, mask, and hood, and her husband in a matching grey costume that was largely the same, except lacking her high heels.

The couple came to a stop in front of Oni-Lee, stepping into the impromptu circle that had formed around him, and folded their arms in unison.

"You are Oni-Lee," said Night.

"Yes," Oni-Lee agreed.

"You are ABB," said Fog.

"No." Oni-Lee shook his head. "I am Empire."

"The Empire is for whites," Night said simply. "You are not white."

"Kaiser said I am white now," Oni-Lee replied.

Night and Fog silently looked to each other, before turning back to him.

"Are you here to kill us?" asked Fog.

"No. Kaiser has ordered me not to."

A low murmur rippled through the spectating crowd. Oni-Lee ignored it.

"...Are you here to kill me?" he asked in return.

"No," said Night. "Kaiser has ordered us not to."

Silence lingered between them for several seconds.

"You will help us with the cooking," said Fog, nodding to him.

Oni-Lee paused to think, dredging up memories of the many traditional Japanese and new Asian fusion recipes he mastered when he first began working for Lung. Though the memories were distant now, and the details of his experiences were hazy, the rote instructions were still clear. It was doable.

"...Okay," he answered, nodding back.

The stunned crowd parted again as Night and Fog abruptly turned around and marched towards the kitchen behind the counter, and Oni-Lee dutifully followed them.

This wasn't so different from the ABB after all.

---

Sophia knocked on Commander Calvert's open door as she stepped through into his office, now masked up, since the PRT offices weren't quite as private as the Wards HQ. Thomas Calvert sat inside, shoes up on the edge of his messy office desk and reading a book, which he looked up from as she entered. Despite his otherwise formal office shirt and tie, he was wearing a durag today for some unfathomable reason, as well as numerous gold chains around his neck.

Commander Calvert gave her an oily smile as he put his feet down, assuming a more upright, if still relaxed posture. He set his book aside atop a pile. Upon closer examination, Sophia caught that it was titled The Black Experience, and that the front cover was a picture of what was presumably the author, sporting the exact same durag and gold chains as Calvert. Glancing over the rest of the titles in his pile, she noticed other such gems as Driving While Black: A History of Police Brutality in America, African Racial Consciousness and You, Being Black in Brockton: The Shadow of the Empire, and the most eyebrow-raising one of all, How Whitey Fucked You Personally: The Case For Reparations, by Celia Laborn.

"Um... you wanted to see me, sir?" asked Sophia, forcefully tearing her eyes away from the books.

"Sure, girl," Commander Calvert said with obviously feigned casualness. "Take a seat."

Sophia decided not to question it, and did as she was told, sitting across from him.

"So, uh... what was this about?"

There was an awkward pause as Commander Calvert seemed to freeze for a second, before resuming like nothing had happened.

"Oh, you know, I just wanna see how you're doing," he said, slouching in his seat. "Make sure they're treating you alright, you feel me?"

"Uhh... sure." Sophia folded her arms. "I mean, Piggot's a hardass, but that's nothing new."

"Yeah, yeah, for real," Calvert said, nodding.

Even with a mask on, Sophia was sure it was obvious just how weirded out she was by all this, but if Calvert was bothered by her reaction, he wasn't showing it.

"Well, what I mean is..." Calvert sat up straighter, locking his fingers on the desk. "I take it that Director Piggot has already informed you of the new SOP regarding the Empire? After their new... alibi, shall we say?"

Sophia's look darkened. "Yeah."

Commander Calvert nodded again.

"Any... thoughts about that?"

"Thoughts like what?" Sophia challenged.

"Unhappy thoughts, maybe?"

"Well, of course. But if the Chief Director's decided, then that's that, isn't it? I don't get a fucking say. I haven't had a say in anything in my life since the PRT got me."

Calvert was nodding along sympathetically.

"Yeah, I hear that. Fucking cops are always trying to keep a brother down. Or, sister. Sorry."

Sophia sighed. She couldn't ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

"Okay, what are you doing?"

"What do you mean what am I doing?" Calvert asked innocently.

"This." Sophia waved up and down. "What the hell are you trying to do? Is this supposed to be some attempt to relate to me? Because it isn't working. It's awkward and annoying."

"Naw, naw, you got me wrong, dog." Calvert shook his head.

"Dog?" Sophia said sharply, doing her best Piggot impression.

"Look, I'm just trying to reconnect to my roots, you know? And that means looking out for a sister and having her back when she needs it. People like us, we gotta stick together, you dig?"

Sophia glared back at him.

"The fuck do you mean like us? What do you have in common with me? You're a forty-something, fancy-talking, college-educated rich guy, who works in a government office all day as a consultant for a fucking law enforcement agency. How are you seriously going to talk to me about what assholes the cops are when you're basically a cop? Have you ever even been arrested? I bet you've barely experienced a day of hardship in your life!"

"How dare you!" Calvert slammed a fist onto his desk. "I've killed people!"

"Yeah, as a PRT trooper, on the job." Sophia sneered. "I killed people for fun, motherfucker. And they deserved it, too. I'd still be killing people now if not for my probation. I'm not like you; I don't give a fuck."

Commander Calvert paused again, seeming to appraise her as he drummed his fingers on the desk.

"You're a very difficult girl, Shadow Stalker."

Sophia privately smirked. "I think what you meant to say is, 'Fuck you, Shadow Stalker.'"

Calvert gave an exasperated sigh.

"Look, do you want to help me fuck up the Empire's plans today, or not?"

"Obviously? Why didn't you lead with that instead of all this 'hello fellow negro' bullshit?"

"Okay! Sorry!" Calvert shouted, pulling off his durag and throwing it on the floor. "Fuck me for trying to nice to you, I guess, you colossal bitch!"

"Christ, you're a fucking loser, Calvert. How did you ever even get this job?"

"I killed people for it. Motherfucker."

---

The Medhall auditorium was looking crowded as Brad left George in his seat and approached the others by the side of the stage. A dull roar of conversation filled the room from a random mix of Medhall employees, rough-looking gangsters, and the Empire's parahumans filling the seats. Max, Kayden, and Nessa stood by the stage at the front of the room in civilian dress, talking amongst themselves. Sam was typing away at a laptop on the desk next to them, probably controlling the projector, which was currently displaying a PowerPoint slide titled "RACIAL TOLERANCE AND SENSITIVITY IN THE WORKPLACE" on the wall.

"I calmed the sissy down," Brad grunted. "We ready to go yet?"

"Five more minutes," said Sam, holding up five fingers while rapidly typing one-handed, still looking at the screen. "I'm basically writing this whole presentation from scratch right now."

"The fuck?" Brad turned to Max. "I thought the point of this seminar was scoring PR points by having outside consultants give us this sensitivity training shit? Where are they? If we're doing it ourselves, then what's the point?"

"That was the plan," Max said with a grudging nod. "Three problems with that, however. One, our options were highly limited in the first place with the company's accounts still frozen, not to mention a lot of these consulting firms not wanting to work with us since... y'know, we're Nazis. Allegedly."

"Fair enough." Brad shrugged.

"Two, of the firms that were willing to discuss the matter with us, none of them were really suited to the job. I reviewed the materials that were sent to me, and most corporate sensitivity training, anti-discrimination seminars, et cetera, were written on the assumption that they would be addressing ordinary white collar workers and management. They're meant to deal with issues like unfair hiring practices, workplace harassment, stuff like that. De-radicalising alleged actual Nazis and teaching them not to throw glass bottles at minorities in the street is a little outside their wheelhouse. And what relevant material they do have, our audience would not be receptive to. So we need something a little more basic, more remedial, which is what Sam is writing for us now."

Sam gave a thumbs up, still focused on the screen.

"Makes sense," said Brad.

"Three, I spent whole nights reading these consultancy firms' websites, manifestos, mission statements, course materials, and checking the social media of some of their senior figures, and holy fucking shit, Brad, these people are racist as fuck."

Brad tilted his head. "They are?"

"Yeah, it's insane. I've been leading a militant white supremacist gang for around a decade now – allegedly – but some of these 'anti-racists' write some of the most racist shit I've ever heard. Just they direct it to a different group than we do. I copied one of their documents and did a find and replace at one point, changing every instance of 'white people' to 'Jews,' just to see what it looked like, and the end result legitimately could've come straight out of Mein Kampf. And the stuff they wrote about non-whites was pretty racist too, just in a weirdly patronising way rather than a hateful one."

"...Huh," said Brad.

"Yeah. So obviously, we were never going to accomplish anything bringing those people in. Best case scenario, everyone listens to them, and they convince a bunch of – alleged – neo-Nazis to turn into fanatical self-flagellating white guilt freaks, which would be different, sure, but not necessarily an improvement in my opinion. Worst case scenario, they piss off everybody in the room, our audience violently murders them, and then said bunch of – alleged – neo-Nazis quadruples down on their racism out of spite, and starts a city-wide riot, sinking our reputation and rehabilitation efforts for good. In either case, a disaster waiting to happen. Allegedly. That is why I've made the decision to handle the sensitivity training in-house; I believe we can do a better job."

"Fuck." Brad winced. "That bad? Really?"

"Some of these people were literally advocating for the return of segregation," Max said, entirely serious. "Except with the roles reversed this time."

Brad considered what that world would look like, a kind of bizarro 1960s where he and people who looked like him would have to go to the shittier schools, be denied jobs or paid less on the basis of their skin colour, and would be legally required to get up and go to the back of the bus if some sneering, self-important negro told him to move just because he wanted his seat.

He shuddered.

"That sounds... fucking awful?" Brad said. "Why can't they just be happy with equality? Why is it so important for their race be on top and everyone else to be underneath them?"

"Well, look at that!" Max smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "You're sounding less racist already! Maybe there is something to this stuff after all, huh?"

Brad went slack, staring blankly into space.

"Done!" Sam announced with a flourish.

"Okay, people, back to your seats," said Max, clapping his hands. "I've got a class to teach."

Silently, sullenly, Brad slinked back to his chair next to George, who was sitting there staring down at his tiger mask, holding it in his hands. Kayden and Nessa sat on Brad's other side.

On the stage, Max picked up a microphone from a stand, clearing his throat as he tested the audio.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!" he said, facing the room with a bright smile. "Thank you for attending the first of Medhall's new sensitivity training seminars! Some of you here today are long time employees, here for mandatory training as part of our company's new restructuring. Others of you are associates and friends of the Medhall family, volunteering your time so that you can take part in our ongoing charitable relief efforts in the city.

"I would like it to be known that I appreciate each and every one of you for joining us today, and I promise that we will try our very best to not waste your time, and to make this a worthwhile and valuable experience. You were provided pens and paper when you came in, so please take notes if you believe it will help you, but I must request that you all turn off your phones before we begin our session. If you wish to ask questions, please raise your hand, and I will stop and address you at the first available opportunity. I should also let you all know that this seminar is being recorded, so please mind your language. Any questions before we begin?"

He looked expectantly around the room, as Brad and several others took out and switched off their phones.

"...No? Alright."

Max cleared his throat again, pointing up at the slide projected on the wall behind him.

"So let's just jump right in..."

The PowerPoint switched to the next slide. Pictures of Martin Luther King's famous speech, a side profile of Michael Jordan mid-jump during a basketball game, Ray Charles playing the piano, and Morgan Freeman's character in Along Came a Spider all decorated the edges of the slide, framing the title in the middle.

Brad's eyes bugged out as Max read it aloud.

"Section one... 'Black people are human too!'"

A smacking sound came from Brad's left. He glanced aside at Kayden, who now had a hand on her forehead.

The rest of the auditorium, however, did not share her reaction, instead responding with a wave of fervent whispers and animated discussions. Straining his ears, Brad caught snippets of hushed conversations behind him such as "Huh, never thought of it like that," "Who's that nigger behind the microphones?" and "Wait, I like Morgan Freeman... He don't count, do he?"

Kayden gradually raised her face from her palm, and stared over her shoulder at the rest of the audience as they talked with genuine interest. Brad watched as she turned to him, and then looked past him at George, who was watching the presentation with a look of intense scrutiny.

"Black... people... human... too...?" George muttered, hunching over his desk and scribbling notes with an expression of deep thought.

Kayden blinked incredulously, and Brad grinned at her.

"What? He did say this was the remedial class..."

---

The exhilarating rush of air passing through her shadow form came to a stop as Sophia solidified once more, landing on the gravel of a rooftop, and feeling her normal bodily processes resume. There was a crunching noise behind her as Browbeat landed on the edge of the same rooftop, jogging over to catch up with her. He was currently bulked up to his standard size while in costume, which made him taller and wider than Sophia by a significant margin, and his muscles visibly bulged through his blue spandex costume.

"So, what was that you were saying about your friend, before?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, Madison," said Sophia, idly looking over the edge of the roof. "Said she wants to fuck you. Wanted me to put you two in contact. Interested?"

"I don't know," said Browbeat, shrugging his massive shoulders. "You've told me nothing about her. What's she like? Why is she interested in me? Is she pretty?"

"Hold on."

Sophia quickly pulled out her civilian phone and began scrolling through photos, until she found a good one of Madison showing off a skimpy outfit with Emma. She had one hand in front of her face with her fingers spread, standing in a pose that Sophia was sure she had copied from some anime.

"Here." She passed the phone to Browbeat. "She's the brunette."

"Okay, she's pretty cute," said Browbeat, eyes lingering a while before handing the phone back. "You still haven't answered why she's interested in me."

Sophia sighed, crouching at the edge of the rooftop and scanning the streets below.

"You're a fucking superhero. Isn't that reason enough?"

"No. You're hiding something, Shadow Stalker. Tell me."

"Fine," Sophia grumbled. "What do you want to know?"

"What is she like? Describe her to me."

Sophia kept her eyes on the street, scratching her head as she tried to think of something positive she could say about Madison that wouldn't scare her teammate off.

She was drawing a blank.

"...Okay," said Sophia. "If I'm being brutally honest, she's fucking nuts. An absolute freak. Not like in a violent or abusive way, just... really, really fucking perverted. She's into some weird shit, and she has zero shame about it, and no fucking off switch. I think she might be a nymphomaniac. Why's she interested in you? Literally because of your powers. She wants to see what kind of freaky shit you can do with your body. She's into Case 53s, but can't get with one, and you're close enough in her eyes."

Browbeat stared at her, unmoving.

"Ummm... okay. You're really not doing a great job selling her to me here."

"Not really trying to." Sophia shrugged. "I'm just giving you the facts. She asked me to introduce you two, but there's only so much I can do to talk her up when she's... her."

"So what do you think I should do?"

Sophia stood and turned back to him.

"I really don't fucking care. That's your choice to make. Personally, I wouldn't stick my dick in crazy, but some guys seem to think the crazy is worth it if the girl's hot enough, and despite herself, Madison is still pretty popular in our school. She gets asked out all the time. Could probably have any guy she wants. But she turns most of them down, because she finds normal human proportions boring."

Browbeat turned away, tapping his foot while silently looking off into the distance. Even so, Sophia could almost swear she heard the faint clashing sounds of the great battle that was surely raging within his mind.

"Also she's bi," Sophia added offhandedly. "So she'd probably be up for threesomes if you were into that."

His head slowly swivelled around to face her.

"...Fine," he relented. "Give me her number."

Sophia smiled under her mask, quickly whipping out her phone again and shooting off a text with Madison's number to Browbeat. She watched as he drew his own phone to check it.

"Thanks," he said with a curt nod.

"No problem."

She prepared to run again.

"Hey, uh..." Browbeat sounded nervous. "When you say she's into freaky shit... she's not gonna, like... want me to piss on her or anything, is she?"

Sophia laughed and shook her head.

"I wish I could say no, but the list of freaky gross shit that I know Madison's not into is way too short for me to say it with confidence. You're just gonna have to draw boundaries with her, man."

"I'm... having second thoughts about this now..." Browbeat murmured.

"Okay." Sophia shrugged. "Call her. Don't call her. Whatever. I don't give a fuck."

She raced off, making a running jump off the building before switching into her shadow form, and letting the wind carry her along. Browbeat followed behind her, using his powerful leg muscles to run at Olympian speeds and leap from building to building.

He was much better at keeping up with her now than he had been back when he first joined, though Sophia found she still had hold back whenever she got too far away to give him time to catch up. It was another of those irritating things about the Wards, having to drag along dead weight who did nothing but slow her down. Not that she didn't appreciate having backup in a fight, but the Wards held her back in those too, in a different way, by preventing her from using the lethal force most of her targets deserved. Being part of the Wards in general was an exercise in frustration.

Speaking of deserving targets, Sophia slowed and stopped at another roof edge as she caught the familiar sound of drunken, mocking laughter below. Two skinheads and a blond guy with short, cropped hair stood and lounged around a pickup truck full of crates, drinking beer and jeering at a college-aged black woman who was trying to walk past them. One of the skinheads wore a stained white tanktop and had a pipe wrench sticking out of his pocket, while the other had mud all over his jeans, and a holstered gun at his hip.

This wasn't the location Commander Calvert had fed her, but it looked like crime in progress nonetheless, so Sophia readied a crossbow and aimed at them, making a mental note to take down the man with the gun first.

"Eyyyyy, where you going, darkie?" The drunk skinhead with the pipe wrench laughed. "Don't you know these streets are dangerous right now?"

The woman was backing away, trembling.

"Please, I don't want any trouble..."

"Oh, she don't want any trouble!" The blond man also laughed.

"Well, she should be heading to the nearest Empire-operated shelter then!" The second skinhead with the gun sneered.

He reached down to his side, and Sophia was about to fire, when suddenly the thug pulled a handful of leaflets out of his back pocket, and held them out towards the woman.

"Yeah, she better be aware of her local shelters!" Pipe Wrench guffawed. "They got food and medical supplies n' shit!"

The woman was frozen, still trembling.

"Wh-What is this?" she asked, as the Gunman forced a leaflet into her hand.

The men all laughed and jeered again.

"Hear that?" said Pipe Wrench. "Negress doesn't know that the Empire are helping out her kind now at all our shelters!"

"Yeah!" Blondie grinned menacingly. "She better go to one if she or anyone she knows is in need! Times are tough, and people gotta help each other if we're gonna get through this! Heh."

"Yeah." The Gunman nodded, still sneering. "'Cause we're all about helping our fellow man now, ain't we? Ain't very Christian-like to turn away a person in need, even if they're a coon."

The woman was no longer trembling, but instead staring wide-eyed at the three men, apparently frozen in sheer bafflement.

She slowly began to back away from them, but the Gunman noticed her movement.

"Hey!" He suddenly barked, pointing a finger at her. "Where do you think you're going, bitch?"

Sophia tensed, raising her crossbow again as the woman whimpered and covered her head with her arms, trying to shield herself from whatever came next. But instead of drawing his weapon, the Gunman whistled and cocked his head to Pipe Wrench, who grabbed one of the crates from the pickup truck and carried it over to her.

"Heh," said Blondie, wearing an ugly smirk. "You ain't leaving without a charitable donation from Kaiser."

Pipe Wrench roughly shoved the wooden crate into the woman's arms, and she nearly fell over in the mud. The Empire thugs all laughed again.

Shakily, the woman stood and removed the crate's lid, peering inside. From her vantage point on the roof, Sophia peered through her crossbow's scope, and saw that it was filled with tins and packets of non-perishable food, a jug and box of water filters, a first aid box, some thin blankets, and several more leaflets and small booklets, most printed with the Medhall logo.

The woman silently stared, seemingly unable to say anything or even comprehend what the fuck was going on. Sophia was right was there with her.

"Sorry there ain't no fried chicken or watermelon with it!" Pipe Wrench cackled, the others joining after him. "You're just gonna have to live with what we give ya!"

The woman slowly put the lid back in place.

"Ummm... thhhhhhhaaaaaanks...?" she said, uneasily.

"You're welcome, bitch!" The Gunman said with a hateful glare.

"Now get outta here!" said Blondie, grinning. "And tell all your nigger friends, if they ever come to Empire territory again, we will be giving them free care packages as well!"

The woman stared a moment longer, before turning and walking away, carrying the relief crate with her. As she retreated, the drunken Empire goons all laughed again like they'd pulled some hilarious prank, with Blondie and Pipe Wrench high-fiving, and the Gunman wearing a satisfied smirk.

"...What the fuck?" asked Browbeat, behind her.

"Jesus!" Sophia hissed, recoiling. "Don't sneak up on me like that! I could've shot you!"

Browbeat gave her an odd look, but declined to comment

Sophia huffed, turning back to the thugs lounging around their pickup below, who continued drinking and laughing together, oblivious to their presence.

"...I don't know what to do about this," Sophia said, lowering her weapon. "I caught at least four racial slurs in that encounter, they're clearly inebriated, and they were definitely being intimidating. But in the end, they just gave her a fucking crate of free food, and let her go. Unless it's poisoned or something, I don't think we can do anything about this. What the actual fuck are the Empire planning here?"

"Search me," said Browbeat, shrugging. "Either way, Piggot said hands off the Empire right now, unless we see an unambiguous crime happen in front of us. Until they do anything worse, all we can do is let the police and PRT know where they are, and leave them to it."

Unseen to Browbeat, a devious grin spread beneath Sophia's mask. She had been looking for an excuse to separate from Browbeat and follow Commander Calvert's intel on her own, and this was just the opportunity she needed.

"Go ahead and do that, then," she said, flicking her head towards the gangsters. "I'll scout ahead and meet you further up."

Browbeat nodded, holding a hand to his ear as he began reporting to console. Meanwhile, Sophia ran off to the opposite side of the roof, away from the bizarro-Nazis. She turned to shadow again as she jumped off, gliding away to the next rooftop.

For a short stretch, Sophia followed their intended patrol route. It wasn't long, however, before she deviated from it. As soon as she was far enough away and out of Browbeat's line of sight, she jumped several streets over, crossing more rooftops off the beaten path. Her new route took her towards the edge of the Empire's nominal territory, contested by Coil's forces ever since the public reveal of their identities had thrown the gang into chaos.

If Commander Calvert's inside sources were correct, Coil was planning another big push into Empire territory today, one which Calvert hadn't reported to the PRT yet, since they were taking a stance of inaction against the Empire. Instead, he'd privately shared the information with her, on the understanding that Sophia would "spot" Coil's forces making their way into contested Empire territory while separated from Browbeat, conveniently "forget" to report in before pursuing, and then use the ensuing gang war as pretext to intervene and deal some damage to the Empire.

Sophia didn't actually see any of Coil's forces around yet, but she didn't need to. That would just be her cover story. In reality, she was making a beeline for the one the Empire's alleged shelters, where Coil's forces were supposedly due to attack. When she got there, she would simply lie in wait, and make her move once the fighting kicked off.

She had to admit, it was a brilliant plan on Commander Calvert's part. As sad, awkward, pathetic, cringeworthy, and generally creepy as he was, she did begrudgingly admire Calvert's talent for strategy, and did have to respect how devious he could be when he wanted to. In the context of her whole predator/prey paradigm, Sophia definitely saw Commander Calvert as a predator; he was just one of those really pathetic and unimpressive predators, like a hyena or something.

Sophia finally came to the place she was looking for, landing on an apartment building overlooking a relatively intact street lined with small businesses, most of which were shuttered. She could immediately tell where the Empire shelter was by the crowd of people gathered by the doors of an old community centre opposite a church, both of which were bustling with activity. Several vehicles also parked around the area, including vans, trucks, and pickups, offloading more of the crates which the gangsters had been handing out.

It wasn't surprising in itself to see people rallying around an Empire safehouse. Sophia had seen plenty of that in her years in Brockton, both before and after triggering. What was really surprising was just how... diverse the crowd was. The thugs from earlier must have been telling the truth, because Sophia saw plenty of black, Asian, and Latino faces in the crowd, both alone and with families. It almost looked more like a city hall rally than an Empire one.

Once again, Sophia wondered what the fuck Kaiser was planning. Whatever it was, his end goal had to be pretty horrible if he was able to get so many hateful people to so gleefully participate in playing nice with their preferred victims. She was sure the other shoe would drop any day now, and all of the idiots below would quickly regret trusting or relying on the Empire for even a second. Sophia would not feel guilty for crashing this party.

Not that she had ever especially cared about the civilian casualties of war; the way she saw it, shit happened, and it was human nature for the strong to take advantage of the weak. The Empire, as contemptible as she found them, fit very comfortably into her worldview, and their victims were no different than any of the other sheep slaughtered in this city every day.

No, Sophia's real problem with them had always been a disagreement over where she belonged in that hierarchy of predators and prey. They thought they were better than her, while she knew she was better than them. The conflict was inevitable. It was just too bad that the PRT had intervened before she could claim enough Nazi scalps to prove it to them.

Well, this time she wasn't going to miss her chance.

Sophia didn't have to wait long for her mark. From her vantage point, she soon spotted a large number of Coil's uniformed mercenaries running up the nearby alleyways and side roads, taking positions in a loose ring around the shelter behind cars and walls. She watched the squad leaders reporting in by radio, making hand signals to their men, and finally watched as several soldiers put on gas masks and tossed smoke grenades into the crowd.

"Shadow Stalker, where are you?" Browbeat called over the radio.

She ignored him, taking it off and smashing it against the roof. Before she got back, she would drop her radio somewhere in the crowd, and claim that it had been damaged in the attack, preventing her from responding or calling for help. Commander Calvert had promised to cover for her as best he could.

Down below, people were fleeing the smoke clouds. The crowd poured out in every direction, some making for the safety of the community centre or the church, and others deducing that the shelters were the targets, and taking their chances running out into the street. The mercenaries let them go, waving them past as they ran. Anyone who wasn't white or was with a child got an immediate pass. Everyone else they seemed to check manually. And as for the Empire, as soon as the mercenaries caught a glimpse of gang tattoos or drawn weapons, they started shooting.

People panicked. Nazis dropped. Screams came from the crowd. But Sophia remained stoic, keeping her eye on the shelter and the Empire's forces. She wasn't here to stop Coil's mercenaries or save the people caught in the crossfire. She was here for one very specific reason.

And then she spotted him, emerging from the building in his shiny knight's armour, carrying a ten-foot-long spear, and shadowed by a trio of his ghostly duplicates.

Crusader.

---

The presentation was just beginning to wind down, and it was a good thing too, because Kayden was struggling to keep her eyes open. She didn't know how someone as charismatic as Max had managed to make the seminar so boring, especially given how wildly it had veered from topic to topic; Max had briefly covered everything from the Confederacy and the transatlantic slave trade, to segregation and Civil Rights, to the history of rock n' roll and African-American participation in the Olympics. Whatever he had been saying, it seemed to captivate and perplex the rest of the audience, but she and Brad had been mostly zoning out for the whole thing.

"...So in conclusion!" Max pointed up at the slide outlining his points. "African-Americans are first and foremost...?"

"Americans!" the audience chorused.

"Slavery and segregation was...?"

"Bad!" they all shouted back.

"And calling black people racial slurs is...?"

"Rude!" they answered.

Max grinned widely, spreading his arms as if to embrace the audience. Sam switched them to the final slide, which simply read "THANK YOU AND GOODBYE."

"Excellent!" said Max. "I'm so very proud of all of you! Thank you all for your participation today. I know the subject matter was not the easiest for some of you—"

Kayden snorted.

"—But I appreciate all of you for coming here and giving this your fullest effort. You are well on your ways to becoming model citizens, and bringing the Medhall family back into good standing! If you are interested in further training, tomorrow at two o' clock I will be hosting Racial Sensitivity 102 here, in which we will be covering Asians, this time with a real life minority to practice your newly non-racist social interaction skills with!"

The crowd began chattering excitedly, and Kayden covered her face and let out a muffled groan. Brad chuckled.

"But, that is all for now!" Max announced. "So thank you all, and have a good day!"

Kayden slumped and let out a sigh as Max got down from the stage, and the audience began shuffling out the doors. Brad leaned over to say something to George, who was still reading back his notes, and Kayden noticed Tammi charging out of the room, trying to catch up with Nietzsche. With nothing better to do, she got up and approached the side of the platform, where Max, Sam, and Nessa were gathered.

"I think that went well," Max said to the others, smiling.

"Hmm..." Nessa said thoughtfully. "It did cover some interesting stuff. You made it sound almost genuine at times. Image and marketing can definitely use this."

"Are you kidding me?" Kayden said flatly. "That was fucking absurd, Max. 'Black people are human too'? 'Black people also invented things'? 'Did you know black people helped us win in sports?' What the hell? Do you have any idea how bad it looks for us that you actually had to say this to your employees, and that it was actually a fucking revelation to some of them?"

"Kayden," Max said, equally flatly. "They're fucking Nazis. What else do you want from me? You think I should've gone with the corporate anti-racism training? Have people come in to lecture them all about fucking microaggressions or intersectionality, or whatever other lefty academic gobbledegook is popular at the moment? Because I guarantee you that would've gone horribly."

Kayden sighed.

"You're not wrong. But it doesn't change the fact that this isn't going to help our image problem. If anything, it's just going to reinforce perceptions about how racist and out of touch we are."

"We are racist and out of touch." Sam closed the laptop and stood, leaning on the desk. "But there's not exactly much we can do about that, beyond what we already are. Rehabilitating our image was always going to be an uphill battle, no matter what."

In the corner of her eye, Kayden noticed George getting up and leaving, and Brad coming over to join them.

"Yes," said Max. "Mr. Calle and his team can only do so much. Public relations is an entirely different matter, and one which is a lot harder to manage when our funds are frozen and outside consultancy firms won't touch us."

Brad grinned annoyingly as he sauntered over, dusting off his hands like a manual labourer who'd just finished a hard day's work.

"Welp, that was fucking lame and gay," he said, cheerfully. "The PRT will love it. Good job, Max. You too, Sam."

Sam performed a flourish and bow. "I live to serve."

"...Thank you, Brad," Max said, more reserved. "We were just discussing rehabilitating our image."

Brad shrugged. "Well, I'm not the guy to ask about that. I fucking hate people."

"Which is part of the problem. We've pissed off a lot of people in the time we've been operating, and we need to start making serious overtures to our former enemies. The relief efforts alone aren't enough. I expect New Wave will be particularly hard to win over, given... everything."

Kayden winced. Yeah, she didn't expect New Wave would ever forgive them for that shitshow with Fleur.

"And you especially, Brad, I need to end our enmity with the Undersiders," Max continued, pointing to him. "There is no need to continue antagonising them when we are giving up the dogfighting rings anyway."

Brad threw his head back and let out a long, pained groan.

"Ugghhhhhh... fucking seriously? You're going to make me go apologise to that dog... bitch...? Bitch? Her name is Bitch."

"Yes," Max said firmly. "We have enough on our plate right now with the relief efforts, our legal troubles, and our image problem, not to mention still dealing with Coil and the Merchants. We do not need to get into any unnecessary fights with the Undersiders right now."

"Especially after Skitter's second trigger," said Kayden, nodding.

Max turned to her suddenly. "What second trigger?"

"Skitter second triggered in the hospital after Leviathan. Krieg saw it happen. Something to do with Armsmaster."

"What?" Max shouted. "Why did nobody tell me about this?"

"You didn't know?" asked Sam, curiously.

"Of course not! I was fucking insensate while I was in the hospital! You're being serious? The bug girl second triggered?"

"Looks like it," said Kayden.

Max went quiet, frowning at his feet.

"That is... an interesting coincidence..." he muttered to himself, thoughtfully stroking his unkempt beard.

Nessa cleared her throat.

"Hey, going back to our image problem, have we thought about rebranding yet? That's usually what happens when heroes and villains switch sides, isn't it? They get new names and costumes, and separate themselves from their old identities?"

Max quickly shook his head, refocusing on the conversation.

"Oh, yes, good idea. Hmm... I'd say it could work... Wouldn't even be the first time for me, so I'm definitely not opposed, but we'd need to get a professional to do it."

"You weren't always called Kaiser?" asked Brad.

"Of course not. 'Kaiser' is an aspirational name. A leader's name. It suits me now, but my father never would've allowed me to call myself that back when I was first starting out. Especially when it was my sister he originally wanted to inherit the Empire, not me."

"So... what were you called before?"

"The Swastikid!" Max said proudly.

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Brad's mouth opened slightly as he stared at Max, who seemed unbothered by his shock.

"...Really?" said Sam, breaking the silence.

"Yes." Max smiled fondly. "That was my name in my teen years. My gimmick was forming giant metal swastikas that I would throw like shurikens. Later I also figured out how to make them return, so they became more like boomerangs. I quite liked that identity, but unfortunately I had to retire it and rebrand as Kaiser after the local Wards at the time started calling me Windmill Boy, and it caught on in the media. Father was furious. He murdered so many journalists over that name."

"Uhhhhhhhh..." said Brad, still staring dumbly.

"Minnie went through something similar," Max said casually, oblivious to Brad's reaction. "She originally went by Iron Cross. Father did always like his themed pairs."

"Um... wow..." said Kayden, since she didn't know what else to say.

"I know. For all his faults, one of dear old Dad's few great talents was coming up with names."

Nobody could bring themselves to vocally disagree.

Sam suddenly snapped his fingers, grinning.

"Parian!" he said.

"Parian?" Max echoed.

"Parian." Sam returned a confident nod.

A smile slowly broke across Max's face.

"Yes, of course! Parian!" he said gleefully. "You're a genius, Sam! We'll hire Parian to redesign all of our costumes and rebrand!"

Kayden had a bad feeling about this.

"Are we sure she'd be willing to work with us?" she asked, uncertain.

"She'll just need some persuading first." Max waved off the concern. "Brad, Sam, I want you to go down to Parian's boutique on the boardwalk and convince her to take on the job."

"Convince her?" Brad repeated.

"Yes. Convince her."

Brad grinned widely.

Kayden had a very bad feeling about this.

"Uhhh... what boutique?" asked Nessa, raising a hand.

"Parian's. On the boardwalk. Um... assuming it isn't destroyed, that is."

"Max..." Kayden said slowly. "What boutique? Parian's never had a boutique there."

Max blinked. "She hasn't?"

"No."

"...No." Max shook his head. "No, she definitely did. I'm sure I remember hearing something about it. She's a fashion student. Had a shop somewhere where she made clothes with her powers?"

"Wouldn't that be a NEPEA-5 violation?" asked Brad in a surprising display of insight.

"Ehh..." Sam held out a hand in a "so so" gesture. "Kind of a grey area..."

"But it doesn't matter anyway, because Parian never had a boutique," said Kayden. "You're misremembering, Max."

"I could've sworn Parian had a boutique somewhere," Max said insistently.

"You're probably just thinking of the shows she used to put on around the boardwalk and downtown. She partnered with a bunch of different shops for those, animating their mascots or whatever, but she never had one of her own."

Max rubbed his head and sighed.

"Fucking Mandela effect... I bet Professor Haywire did this somehow."

"So what do you want us to do, since she doesn't have a boutique?" asked Brad.

Max's eyes narrowed.

"Make her one."

Brad chuckled. But when he finished, Kaiser was still glaring at him.

"...You're serious?"

"Yes." Max rapped his knuckles on the nearby desk. "I want Parian to redesign our costumes, and I want all the Empire capes to get together for a makeover and a big photoshoot at Parian's boutique, because that will be good for our image. I don't care what it takes to make it happen. Rent a boutique for a day. Buy one. Hell, commandeer an empty building and make it into a boutique if you have to. Then go find Parian wherever she is, and convince her to go along with it. Give her whatever it takes. I don't give a shit, Brad. Just do it."

Brad and Sam exchanged looks, and a pair of devious grins crossed their faces.

"Okaaaaaaaaay~" said Brad, entirely too happy with his assignment.

Kayden had an extremely fucking bad feeling about this.

---

Crusader was too far away to reliably hit with her crossbows, especially through the rapidly growing smoke clouds, so Sophia glided overhead to get the drop on him and hit him up close. Down below, Crusader strode through the fleeing crowd with impunity, his ghostly escorts twirling their spears before charging out ahead of him towards the front line of Coil's mercenaries. A hail of bullets greeted the ghosts, but they ran straight through them without pause or issue, unaffected until they were in melee range of the mercenaries, whom they began stabbing at with their spears. Crusader's ghosts were completely intangible to non-organic matter; the mercenaries' weapons would be useless against them, with only hand to hand combat having any chance to affect them.

But the real Crusader was still standing back in the smoke cloud, and he very much was vulnerable as Sophia dropped down behind him. She waited to hit the ground before she exited her shadow form, softening the sound, and quickly drew a knife from her belt.

Just as she lashed out towards Crusader's head, aiming for a gap in his armour at the neck, a ghostly hand popped out of his shoulder and caught her wrist.

"Wha—?!"

Sophia tugged, but didn't activate her shadow form. She strongly suspected that her breaker state and Cruaders' ghosts would be fully tangible to each other, and if that was the case, then there was no sense tipping him off to that right away.

As the ghost holding onto Sophia's wrist emerged from his body, the real Crusader calmly turned to face her.

"Shadow Stalker," he said, and she could hear the cruel smile in his voice. "Stabbing me in the back while I'm distracted? Bold, especially for one who doesn't usually like to get so close. From what I hear, you typically prefer picking off our men from a safe distance with those little crossbows of yours, like a pussy."

Sophia bristled.

"I couldn't kick your ass without getting closer," she growled.

"Hoho!" Crusader's laugh was gleeful and sadistic. "Then by all means, get as close as you like! Unfortunately, you were too slow for it to matter!"

The ghost next to him pulled back a fist. It wasn't the spear, so Sophia braced herself and prepared to take the hit.

"OO-RAH!" the ghost shouted, a classic US Marines battle cry.

The ghost's fist smashed into Sophia's breast, going straight through the protective material of her costume, and hitting more than hard enough to bruise. She grunted as the impact sent her flying back, and landed roughly on the sidewalk a distance away. The ghost fully separated from Crusader's body to stand beside him.

"Did the PRT sanction this foolhardy attempt, violating our truce?" Crusader taunted, approaching her. "Or are you acting on your own? What about your partner? You Wards never go out alone. They must be hiding somewhere around here..."

More ghosts stepped out of Crusader's body, running off through the smoke to join the fight against Coil's mercenaries. Sophia wasn't sure what his upper limit for them was. All around them, the cries of fleeing civilians and the screams of thugs and mercenaries filled the air, but the smoke obscured their sights and isolated them in the middle of it all.

Sophia stood, drawing both her crossbows.

"Just me, you bastard."

Crusader snorted.

"Fine." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "I suppose I'll rise to your silly provocation. Shall we compare our powers?"

Sophia went into her shadow state and fired off both crossbows at once, quickly moving to dodge and reload as Crusader's ghost threw his spear like a javelin. Sophia's tranquiliser bolts materialised again as they sailed past Crusader's head, both of them dodging each other's attacks by a hair, and immediately moving to fire again.

Crusader quickly absorbed his first ghost back into his body, and then ejected him again with a fresh spear, which it immediately wound up to throw again. By the time it had, Sophia had already gone shadow, dodged, and fired again, and Crusader was already ducking to avoid it while producing a second ghost.

After three or four rounds of dodging and tossing projectiles at each other, Sophia finally got the hit she was looking for. A shadowy arrow sailed through the air, passing through the very edge of Crusader's helmet just as it rematerialised with the sound of shattering glass. The bolt had fused to his helmet, near his cheek, half inside and half out.

Crusader's motion paused, along with his ghosts, and Sophia also held back, catching her breath as the fighting lulled. For a second, she dared hope that he had stopped because the tranquiliser had delivered some of its payload, but on a closer look, the tip was mostly on the outside of his helmet. This was just a break, not a win.

"So... it's the same type of power as mine..." Crusader touched a curious hand to the bolt fused into his helmet. "Selectively intangible weapons that can go straight through armour... but yours isn't Manton limited like mine. You have to time it. Your bolts are intangible to everything, until they're not, and tied to your breaker state, if I'm not mistaken... Meaning you also can't attack without making yourself vulnerable."

Sophia said nothing, only arming her crossbows again while staring him down.

Crusader chuckled to himself.

"So, it seems my power's speed and versatility are both superior. I've seen enough; I'm satisfied."

Two more ghosts stepped out of his body, this time with ghostly crossbow bolts fused to their helmets as well.

"Time to fucking kill you now," Crusader announced.

The spears came flying again fast and furious, forcing Sophia to go shadow and dodge. This time Crusader wasn't holding back, splitting off multiple ghosts to send after her at once. And not just throwing their spears, either, but running up into melee range with her. She just barely dodged several of their strikes, relying on her lightweight shadow form to leap further away and create distance. There was no space to counterattack this time.

Moving backwards through the smoke cloud to lose them, Sophia stumbled directly into a half-blind and coughing Nazi. Another ghost was charging towards her, so rather than waste time moving around the man in her way, she turned shadow and phased straight through his body instead.

The ghostly Crusader's spear stabbed towards Sophia as she phased, but couldn't stop in time. Rather than hitting her, it instead burst through the unlucky Nazi's chest, causing him to scream out in pain and spurt blood from his mouth.

The Crusader ghost startled, letting go of its spear and backing up. It raised its hands almost apologetically.

Sophia was briefly shocked by the gory sight as well, but not so shocked that she didn't immediately spot a way to capitalise on it. Crusader's ghosts were Manton limited to only interact with organic matter, weren't they? Well, how lucky for Sophia that this one had just provided her a big slab of meat to hit it with.

Before the dying Nazi had even hit the floor, Sophia was behind him, one hand under his arm, and the other on the back of his head as she shoved him forward. The shellshocked Crusader ghost was either too slow to react, or possibly just caught off-guard by the sheer audacity of Sophia's plan. Either way, it didn't move in time to stop her, and she slammed her human battering ram's face directly into its ghostly helmet, striking with enough force to send it reeling, while shattering the Nazi's skull in another shower of blood.

The ghost fell over on its back, either dead or unconscious. It didn't make a difference, because either way it flickered and quickly faded out of existence. Meanwhile, the now almost certainly dead Nazi's head flopped over at an angle that could have only been possible with a broken neck, his face a red ruin of crushed meat.

Sophia paused, staring down at the grisly sight.

"Shit," she said, looking around the smoke cloud. "I hope no-one was filming that..."

But as far as she could tell, nobody was. So Sophia shrugged, dropping the corpse to the ground.

"Well, waste not, want not..."

With a firm stomp of her armoured boots, Sophia cracked several of the dead thug's ribs, and quickly knelt next to the corpse. Then, turning her arm to shadow, she plunged a hand into its chest. She ignored the usual sharp stinging pain she always felt whenever she rematerialised inside a solid object, and grabbed onto several pieces of shattered bone.

Another Crusader ghost came charging through smoke, only to hesitate when it saw Shadow Stalker kneeling over a dead man, buried up to her elbow inside him. It further startled when she casually ripped out several of his broken ribs with her shadow form.

The ghost tried to recover, aiming and throwing its spear, but Sophia easily dodged it, and charged at the ghost with a furious scream, before planting her improvised Nazi bone dagger in the eye slit of its helmet.

Without a sound, the ghost went limp, spasmed, flickered, and then vanished.

Sophia grinned.

---

Alone amidst the smoke and the gunfire, the real Crusader recoiled.

"What?"

Justin's awareness of his ghosts at that moment was annoyingly limited. Each ghost he produced held a fragment of his ego within it, allowing him to control them as extensions of himself, but his power had a weakness. The more ghosts he produced, the smaller the fragments of his psyche scaled, and vaguer his perception and control of his ghosts became, as his power's attention was split more ways. With only one ghost, his control and perception was almost perfect; he could see through its eyes as though they were his own, hear what it heard, even speak through its mouth, and his control over its body movements was more or less total.

At the moment, however, he had so many ghosts on the battlefield that his connections to each of them were much weaker than usual. His control was limited to sending out vague instructions rather than controlling precise movements, his sensory feedback was limited to general impressions rather than direct perception, and he could only really tell what any individual ghost was doing if he concentrated.

But even this limited connection was enough to tell him that some of his ghosts had begun dying. And not the ones who were mobbing Coil's currently retreating mercenaries down the street, but those he had sent off into the smoke after Shadow Stalker.

That should not have been possible. Even those trained mercenaries struggled to fight his ghosts using only their bare hands, and yet a teenaged girl had just destroyed two of them by herself, one through what felt like massive blunt force trauma, and then another through what felt like stabbing. Except that no knife should have been able to physically hurt his ghosts. Unless...

"Impossible..." Crusader muttered to himself, striding through the smoke in her direction. "Her shadow form... They're the same? They're the same type of power? Can her intangible weapons... hurt my ghosts?"

Shadow Stalker came into view as Crusader approached her, producing more ghosts to stand by his side as the smoke gradually began to clear.

"Your shadow form can hurt them?" Crusader asked, biting back his disdain.

Shadow Stalker merely tilted her head.

"Answer me, Shadow Stalker!" he snarled, pointing a finger. "Were you able to hurt my ghosts?!"

"Who knows?" she said, sounding amused. "I don't know what you're talking about, Crusader."

She raised her knife, taking a guarded stance, while seemingly concealing something in her other hand. Crusader tensed, watching her, and his ghosts formed a defensive wall around him, pointing their spears at her.

Then he saw it, and began to laugh.

It started as a low chuckle, but soon grew into a loud, triumphant roar. Shadow Stalker backed up slightly, clearly not expecting his reaction, and Crusader revelled in it.

"I see what you've done!" he said to her, pointing behind her. "You dismembered that other man behind you, and fashioned a knife from his bone, forming an organic weapon!"

Shadow Stalker glanced over her shoulder, through the thinning smoke, to the now clearly visible body of the dead Nazi with the crushed face.

Reluctantly, she revealed the bloody broken rib she'd been hiding in her off hand.

"You really got me with that one!" Crusader laughed, clapping his hands. "You're a ruthless bitch, Shadow Stalker! Gold star! But if you're relying on a little trick like that, then it can only mean that your shadow form can't affect my ghosts! Which means that all of your other weapons are useless to stop them! Useless!"

He sent his ghosts out, two of them charging for her at once. As expected, she went shadow, and then dodged. But instead of dodging backwards, she moved forwards, ducking between their spear and leaping up towards his final ghost.

It was only at the last moment that he realised she was no longer holding her knife in her main hand, but instead a large rock she had picked up from somewhere.

Shadow Stalker didn't change back. Instead, she brought down the intangible rock on his ghost's head, and it struck with all the force of a real one, smashing a massive dent in the helmet and knocking the ghost down.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?!" Crusader screamed, as Shadow Stalker leaped towards him next.

He realised her ploy all too late; killing two of his ghosts with that other man's body wasn't to trick him into thinking her shadows could affect his ghosts. It was to trick him into thinking they couldn't.

Crusader called out another ghost to protect him mid-scream, but Shadow Stalker was already too close, pushing the new ghost's head aside just in time to bludgeon Crusader himself with the rock.

He staggered back, his helmet ringing, screaming from the pain. His head felt unnaturally heavy, and his legs buckled beneath him. He had gone blind, his head ached, and he felt unbearably nauseous all of a sudden. He almost definitely had a concussion, but he couldn't tell the cause of the blindness.

Given no other choice, Justin banished a few ghosts on the other side of the battlefield, where Coil's mercenaries were in full retreat, giving him more immediate awareness from the ghosts that were closer to him as he sent them after Shadow Stalker.

Seeing himself through another ghost's eyes, he knew what she had done. Shadow Stalker had phased the rock into his helmet over his eye slit, just like she had with her tranquiliser bolt earlier, blocking his vision.

"Damn you...!" he snarled.

With some effort, Crusader reached up and pulled off his helmet. Ordinarily he would have been hesitant to do so in such a public place, but since fucking Coil had already taken the liberty of revealing his identity to the world, he had nothing to lose anymore.

Now free, Crusader tried to stand, but he collapsed again. His legs weren't responding.

Fuck! How hard did she hit me?

He formed another ghost, but did not split it off yet, instead using it to grab and lift himself into the air, fighting back the nausea as best he could. He knew from experience that the new ghost would have the same injuries as him, and probably wouldn't be able to walk either, but it could still fly.

Shadow Stalker did not immediately notice him, busy as she was desperately fighting off three other ghosts at once. She alternated attacking them with the shattered Nazi rib, her knife, her crossbows, and at one point she was even able to grab one of the ghosts' spears in her shadow form and stab another with it, until it disappeared in her hands. It was damn impressive; even with all her tactics and power advantages levelling the playing field, Justin still couldn't quite believe that a lone teenage girl was managing to hold her own against what were still essentially three adult men in metal armour.

He called them back, making them float into the air along with him, and Shadow Stalker turned to look up, aiming her crossbows at him.

"Ah, shit..." she said. "I forgot you could fly."

"You're sharper than I thought, Shadow Stalker!" Crusader held his still aching head as flew higher up and out of her reach. "It wouldn't be wise to underestimate you by getting closer!"

"Run all you want!" Shadow Stalker called back, pointing up at him. "I'm still gonna blow your head off, Crusader!"

She fired at him. Crusader had his flight ghost pull him out of the path of her bolt, and summoned another two ghosts toss spears down at Shadow Stalker. But as soon as the first new ghost emerged, she fired her second crossbow, and it immediately dropped out of the sky when the shadowy bolt struck it in its exposed head.

Of course. Since he had removed his helmet, any new ghosts he produced would also lack a helmet, and so would be vulnerable to headshots if they got close enough for her to hit them.

He weighed his options. Considered his chances. Could he take her right now?

...Nah, fuck this.

Crusader turned and ran.

---

"GET BACK HERE, CRUSADER!" Sophia roared.

In her shadow form, she was light as a feather, and leaping fifteen feet into the air was almost effortless. It wasn't high enough to catch Crusader, but it was enough to land atop the nearest building and chase after him across the rooftops, leaving the dying smoke cloud and the sound of gunfire and panic behind them.

Ghosts continued to split off from Crusader mid-air, raining spears down on her, and Sophia continued to dodge and weave between them. She wasn't naive; if her shadow form could hurt his ghosts, then she knew the ghosts' spears could hurt her shadow form. But for all Crusader's boasting about his speed earlier, she could dodge faster than the ghosts could aim and throw, and she had him on the ropes now. He wasn't getting away.

Sophia dashed from rooftop to rooftop, occasionally snatching up a loose tile or piece of rubble along the way and tossing it at the ghosts. It wasn't enough to really damage them, but there was no sense wasting her bolts on them when Crusader could banish and replace them so quickly. So instead she kept it up just enough to harry him, and throw off the ghosts' aim.

Opportunity came when Crusader passed over a sundered water tower. Leaping up to the very tip of the twisted metal, she launched off towards him again, and was very briefly level with him and the ghosts in the air.

Sophia raised a crossbow and fired, aiming for his neck, and Crusader dropped.

She blinked in surprise; Sophia hadn't been expecting to actually hit him, and in fact was pretty sure she hadn't, but he went down anyway. For a moment she was sure it had to be a feint, but then he fell through a skylight on the roof below, tumbling down into a darkened room with an audible crash and a scream of pain. If it was a feint, it was a convincing one.

Dropping down through the same skylight, Sophia landed in the midst of some kind of warehouse, broken glass softly crunching under her feet. Crusader should have landed here, but somehow he was already gone.

"Come on out, Crusader!" Sophia shouted into the darkness. "I promise I'll make it quick!"

Crusader's voice echoed through the room, coming from no discernable direction, likely speaking through his ghosts.

"You've fucked up, Shadow Stalker!" he crowed triumphantly. "You followed me straight into an Empire safehouse! This was my plan all along!"

"What the fuck...?"

Sophia barely had time to register his words before a forklift came racing out of the darkness, way faster than a forklift had any right to move. Crusader sat in the driving seat with a psychotic grin on his face, one hand on the wheel, the other hand holding a submachine gun, which he gleefully opened fire with.

She went shadow the moment he did, backing up to get away from the forklift and all of that nasty electricity flowing through it, while the bullets harmlessly passed through her. Crusader couldn't possibly have known about her weakness to electricity, but that just meant that this trap was even more effective on her than he could've anticipated. She wondered what the real plan was.

The next second, she didn't wonder anymore, as another ghost split off from Crusader, with a ghost gun, and driving a whole ghost forklift.

"YOU'RE TOO LATE, SHADOW STALKER!" Crusader cackled maniacally. "THE OSHA GUIDELINES ARE ALREADY VIOLATED! AHAHAHA!"

Sophia could only scream as she and the ghost forklift phased through several rows of shelves, while the ghost driver fired ghost bullets at her. She had to duck in front of the ghost forklift's engine to take cover.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

Sophia was reeling, as much from the shock as the fear. Crusader was not supposed to be able to do this! The PRT had always theorised that guns and vehicles were too complex for his power to replicate like this. Had he just been sandbagging with the spears all along? This was utter bullshit!

The warehouse wall was coming up behind her. Both she and the ghost forklift would theoretically phase through it, but if there were any power lines running through that wall, she was toast. Sophia had only one last, desperate option, falling down between the forks to escape the hail of bullets, and letting herself sink beneath the floor.

It was a gamble. A moment slower, and the ghost forklift would have ran her over. And even once she was below ground, she had to hold herself and wait, listening to see where Crusader went, and if he would figure her out. It violated every instinct of how to use her power. Her breaker state didn't like letting her dip below the ground like this, or staying in her shadow form inside solid objects for extended periods of time. Even though she didn't breathe in this form, per se, she did still need open air, and the longer she stayed down, the more it began to feel like suffocating.

Still, as the seconds wore on, and that suffocating feeling began to burn, she heard a muffled sound of the forklift driving somewhere nearby above her. It sounded solid. The real Crusader. It had to be.

"Where are you, Shadow Stalker...?" she heard him mutter.

She held her bone dagger tightly, and suddenly popped up beside him.

"Boo."

Just as he began to turn, the shattered rib found a place in his neck. Sophia stabbed a Nazi with another Nazi, and Crusader screamed bloody murder, falling out of the forklift.

"FUCK!" he gurgled through a mouthful of blood, dropping his gun on the floor.

Sophia raised a crossbow and casually shot the forklift ghost in the head, barely even looking at him. More ghosts split off from Crusader as he crawled along the floor with his hands, but they immediately rolled over and grabbed their necks, as the new ghosts all inherited his throat wound as well.

Crusader left a trail of blood behind him, slowly and uselessly trying to crawl away across the warehouse floor with his throat wound and apparently non-functional legs. But he wasn't getting anywhere soon, and he knew it.

Sophia took her time, strolling towards him at a sedate pace, grinning to herself. A dirty shovel propped up against a nearby wall called to her, and she picked it up as she approached him.

"I would say I feel bad, kicking a guy when he's down," she said.

"Fffff... F-Fuck you... Sh-Shadow... Stalker..." Crusader barely choked out, coughing up more blood.

"But nah. I don't feel bad about this at all. I've got no pity for you whatsoever. After all..."

She raised her shovel overhead, looking him in the eyes as he stared up in pure terror.

"...You're a fuckin' Nazi."

Sophia brought the shovel down, and the average life expectancy of minorities in Brockton Bay immediately increased.

---

Nessa trailed behind Max and Kayden as they entered his office on the top floor, only half-listening to their conversation. She was more interested in how well the cleaners and repairmen had managed to fix up the place since they and Victor had clashed with Krieg here last week. The broken fibreglass Meddy Medicine statues were gone, the bloodstains on the carpets had been thoroughly scrubbed out, and even the broken windows in Max's office had been replaced, finally bringing the room back to a reasonable temperature.

Which was a godsend, since Nessa typically didn't wear many clothes when spending an extended period of time in Max's office. A single glance at Max's "lounge area" was enough to remind her of that, as well provoke another pang of heartache with the reminder that it had been built for two.

Nessa swallowed her grief, turning her attention to Max and Kayden instead.

"...I'm just saying you shouldn't trust Hookwolf of all people with an assignment like that!" said Kayden. "You know what he's like, Max! He'll take any opportunity to do the job in the worst and most counterproductive way imaginable!"

Max sighed, rounding the corner of his desk and collapsing back into his fancy chair.

"Which is why I sent him with Victor," he said, kicking up his feet on the desk. "They keep each other in check. Listen, Kayden. I am not disagreeing with you. I know Brad has his faults. Do not think I am not aware of them. But he isn't an idiot. He knows what he can and cannot get away with, and if he forgets, Sam will remind him. What precisely is the problem?"

Kayden sighed in return, rubbing her forehead.

"You know, Max, I never thought I'd be saying this, but you have too much trust in people."

Max smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh? Kayden, are you suggesting I've changed?"

Kayden scoffed. "Not enough. And not in the right ways."

Max's smile eased, but didn't disappear.

"Nessa, what do you think?" asked Kayden, suddenly.

"About Hookwolf?" Nessa paused to consider. "I think he's a strong leader. I think he's committed to the Empire, and that he'll do the best he can for us. You should have a little more faith, Kayden. Max knows what he's doing."

"Does he?" Kayden glared. "Does he really? You are aware he's literally brain-damaged, don't you?"

"Excuse me?" said Max.

Nessa glared back at her.

"He is Kaiser. His word is law. You should know better than to question him by now."

Kayden's fist clenched, a soft glow of white light beginning to build in her palm. Nessa tensed, ready for the blow to come, but Kayden instead let it go and took a deep breath.

"Of course you'd say that," she said with a bitter laugh. "You're still where I was, two years ago. Not seeing the man he is. Worshipping the very ground he walks on because he talks sweet and gives good dick."

"I'm right here, you know," said Max, now visibly annoyed.

"Oh, go fuck yourself, Kayden," said Nessa, rolling her eyes. "Your unresolved marital spats are not my problem. Max has been a fine leader, and I stand behind his decisions."

"Thank you, Nessa."

"Whatever," said Kayden. "Keep telling yourself that recruiting Oni-Lee into the Empire or sending Hookwolf to go negotiate with a dressmaker is a good idea. Just ask yourself this: What do you think this all in service to? Because it's not for whatever you're fighting for."

"Kayden..." Max said with a warning tone.

"And there he is." Kayden grinned. "Same old Max. Still lying to confused young girls with stars in their eyes and dreams of golden-haired babies."

Nessa's cheeks burned, but she fought back the anger and embarrassment to address Max instead.

"What is she talking about?"

Reluctantly, Max took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and let it out again slowly.

"You want to test me?" said Max, still looking at Kayden rather than her. "You doubt my words?"

Kayden wordlessly leaned to one side, hand on her hip, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"...Fine." Max let out another breath, turning to Nessa. "I lied to you. I've always been lying to you. This was never about races or ideologies for me. My interests in the Empire have always and only ever been personal. White supremacy is merely a tool to rally the disenfranchised to my side. But I don't really believe in it, and I never have."

Nessa recoiled, as if punched in the gut.

"No... What do you mean...?" She shook her head. "Always? The entire time?"

"Yes," said Max, expression unchanging.

Nessa turned away, her head swimming. She looked over to Kayden, who stared at Max warily. She was obviously not as shocked as Nessa was, but still seemed somehow surprised by his answer.

"You knew?" Nessa whispered.

Kayden smiled apologetically. "Only since a week ago."

"So..." Nessa shook her head again. "So it was all bullshit? Everything you've ever said to us? What we fought for? My sister died for a fucking lie?!"

"No." Max stood up abruptly from his desk, walking over and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Your sister died to save my life and yours. She died for her family. Whatever lies I may have told you both, that sacrifice was not in vain, I swear to you."

Tears ran down Nessa's cheeks, and she let out a broken sob as she collapsed against him, hammering her fists against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tighter even as she hit him.

"What does it matter?" Max hissed into her ear, holding her head against him. "Abstracts and ideologies are nothing. You can't see them. You can't hold them. The only thing that matters is people. It's people that made me join and lead the Empire. My parents. My sister. Diana. Kayden. Theo and Aster. Jessica. You."

Nessa pulled back, staring into his eyes as he put a hand to her cheek.

"That's what it's all about. You're what's important to me. And everything I'm doing now, it's me trying to do my best for all of you. I know I've been shitty to you all, leading you on like this, but I promise you, I'm trying to do better. Just... trust me, one more time? Please?"

Nessa pulled away, separating from him, leaving his hand to drop.

"I... this is all too much, Max," she said, hugging her arms to her chest. "I need to be alone."

He called out after her, but Nessa didn't stop to listen. She marched out the door, purposeful in her stride, drying her eyes and trying to clear herself up. Thank God she hadn't worn makeup today.

She made her way to the stairwell, making the long climb down at a sedate pace, and using the time and distance to clear her head and think.

Max was such an asshole. She couldn't believe she hadn't seen it until now, but there it was. Kayden had said so all along, but she and Jessica had always dismissed it as the exaggerations of a bitter ex-wife. She didn't want to admit it to herself, that she was just another stupid little girl who'd fallen for his charms, but she'd heard it from his own mouth, plain as day. And it made her sick to think that her dear sister, and possibly even her older cousin Diana, had fallen for the same bullshit, had even died still believing in it.

What did it even mean for her, if it was all a lie? If Max himself didn't believe all the things he'd said over the years, then was any of it even true? Had they all been on the wrong side all along? Had she spent her whole life hurting people who didn't deserve it?

...Are we the baddies?

It occurred to her then that she had spent most of her life being called a villain, fighting mostly cops and superheroes, and working alongside killers and drug dealers as part of a gang called the Empire Heil Hitler, named after a man who – according to Max – really had systematically murdered millions of people in concentration camps.

"...Fuck, I'm a dumbass..." Nessa groaned, holding her head.

This critical thinking shit was hard.

She made the choice to head back home. There was no use staying here any longer today. But before she left, she would make a quick stop to check in on George and Tammi, since they were still downstairs somewhere.

Nessa slowed as she came to the break room floor. She heard the wild roaring before she arrived, and the aroma of egg and spices that carried on the air.

As Nessa pushed the doors open and emerged into the canteen, her eyes widened in shock. In front of her, two dozen neo-Nazis – including Night and Fog – were holding up Oni-Lee on their shoulders, parading him around the canteen like a conquering hero.

"ON-I-LEE! ON-I-LEE! ON-I-LEE!" the crowd chanted.

Nessa stood frozen with her jaw on the floor, not sure what to do. She was only broken from her fugue when she felt a young girl's hand close around her wrist.

"Nessa!" said Tammi, beaming the brightest smile she'd ever seen on her. "Come sit with us! You have got to try this!"

"Wha—?"

Before she could even orient herself, she was pushed into a seat at a table alongside George and Nietzsche, and Tammi was shoving a plate of steaming omelette in front of her. It was wrapped like a burrito, stuffed with brown rice, as well as what looked like shredded meat and vegetables, and topped with garnish and a thin line of ketchup.

"What is... this?"

"Oni-Lee made it!" Tammi said excitedly. "It's a Japanese fusion or... something. I don't know. Try it!"

She held out a set of utensils, which Nessa took with a skeptical look. Over the din of the chanting men still parading Oni-Lee around the canteen behind her, she awkwardly cut herself a slice of omelette and rice, and brought it up to her mouth.

The taste was... indescribable.

"...Oh my God!" Nessa practically moaned.

"I know, right?" Tammi grinned.

Nietzsche shrugged. "I still say O-negative is better."

---

Sophia playfully kicked her legs as they hung over the edge of shelving unit. She had climbed up to sit there at the top of the warehouse, the room around her still dark, apart from the afternoon sun coming in through the broken skylight. She held her phone to her ear, patiently listening to it ring, until finally Commander Calvert picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Commander Calvert..." Sophia tried to sound apologetic. "I did what you asked, but I may have, uh... gone overboard with Crusader. And I might need your help."

"...How overboard?" he asked.

"He's dead," Sophia said simply.

"He... what? He's dead? You killed him? How?"

"I cut his throat, and then, uh... brained him with a shovel."

Sophia paused as she heard Commander Calvert sigh through the phone.

"In fairness, he was a major dick," she said lightly.

"Goddamnit. You stupid girl!"

"He was a fucking Nazi! Gimme a break. Anyway, you said you'd cover for me if anything went wrong and keep me out of trouble."

"Shadow Stalker... I said I'd cover for you for attacking Crusader. Not for beating him to death with a fucking shovel! What exactly do you expect me to do about this?"

"Well, you'd better think of something soon." Sophia grinned, channelling her inner Emma. "Because if they catch me, and you don't help me out of this mess, then what do you think I'm gonna tell Piggy when she asks me why I did it? It's not gonna look good for you, getting caught telling Wards to violate official PRT standing orders while promising to cover it up. Especially when it resulted in a villain's death. You wouldn't want that on your record, would you, commander?"

Silence from the other end of the call.

"Well?"

"...Very well," Commander Calvert said stiffly. "I'll see what I can do. I've got your location here... The warehouse on Atwell Road, yes?"

"Yep."

"Alright. Sit tight. I will send someone soon."

"Thanks, Tommy!" Sophia said sweetly.

"Fuck you, Shadow Stalker."

He hung up abruptly.

God fucking damn, I'm good.

Sophia nonchalantly put her phone away. Then, finally alone and with no-one to hear her, she let out a happy, girlish squeal, clapping her hands, kicking her legs, and jumping up on the shelves to do a little celebratory dance as the joy overtook her.

She couldn't help herself. Despite all the bullshit with the Wards, it had been a fucking good day. It had been months since she'd last killed someone, or even just shot someone with real crossbow bolts. She'd had to hold herself back for so long, thanks to the terms her probation and all the people watching her. But now, after all this time, she'd finally taken another Nazi head – her biggest one yet – and she had made the motherfucker hurt as well. And to top it all off, thanks to Commander Calvert, she wasn't even going to juvie for it!

It was all such a rush. The thrill of the hunt. The satisfaction of the kill. The look of fear in Crusader's eyes towards the end. If she could get Calvert to continue covering for her like this, then she definitely wanted to do it again. Take out some more Empire, maybe. Or perhaps even a few of the Undersiders? She'd love to finally get Grue, but she also really wanted to kill that creepy second triggered bug bitch who'd seen her face in the hospital. Hell, the Undersiders in general deserved it.

Sophia smiled fondly as she thought of all the ways she'd kill them, while staring down from the shelves at Crusader's bloody and brutalised corpse on the warehouse floor, remembering the moment of the kill.

She was definitely touching herself tonight.

A sudden knocking came from the other side of the warehouse, rattling the shutter doors. Sophia jumped, drawing her weapons. Turning to silent shadow, she crept along the top of the shelves, aiming at the shutters, and waited until she was in position before turning back to her normal form.

She paused when a text alert sounded on her civilian phone. Carefully, not taking her eyes or her crossbow off the shutter doors, she drew her phone to check the message.

We're here, read the message from the anonymous number. Open up.

Relaxing slightly, though not entirely, Sophia dropped to the warehouse floor and approached the shutters. Another round of knocking came.

"Clean-up crew!" an unfamiliar voice announced.

Cautiously, she turned to shadow and stuck part of her head through a safe section of wall, checking outside, where three PRT troopers in full face-concealing helmets waited there. One taller guy, one shorter, and one that might've been a woman.

Sophia was impressed. Calvert worked fast.

She dipped back inside and found a switch beside the doors and hit it, and shutters slowly crawled up to let them inside.

"You guys got here quick," Sophia remarked, putting her crossbows away.

"Kind of what we do," said the tall man, striding forward.

Before she could even react, he held out his hands and blasted her in the face with a cloud of darkness that covered her whole body and left her blind and deaf.

Grue!

She turned to shadow, but it didn't help. Her movements were slow and sluggish, and her power involuntarily shifted her into an uncomfortable middle state of not-quite-solid and not-quite-shadow. She dropped out of it immediately to aim her weapon in front of her where he had been.

A baton struck her in the back of her knee joints, and another hit her in the ribs as she collapsed in a silent scream. Sophia felt thousands of bugs pile on the outside of her costume.

Skitter!

She tried to get up. Then a taser jammed into her bruised ribs, and a powerful shock coursed through her.

Regent...!

Sophia collapsed again, spasming, as the darkness began to clear. The electricity continued to burn as she stared up the three PRT troopers, taking off their helmets to reveal the masks of Grue, Skitter, and Regent underneath. Also, suddenly there was a girl in a demon mask there.

...Who?

The demon girl crouched over, holding up two middle fingers at her as Sophia's vision began to dim. The last thing she heard before losing consciousness was...

"Don't fuck with the Undersiders, beeyooootchhh!"

And her day had been going so well...

---

The hour was getting late. From his office atop the Medhall building, Max watched the evening sun bathe Brockton Bay in its orange hues, while down below his people shuffled out into the streets to make the journey home. Medhall was hosting a large number of the gang for now in temporary sleeping quarters on some of the spare floors, but those who still had homes to return to obviously still preferred their own beds.

Kayden was among those who had already left for the day, returning to her apartment to relieve Andrew and Theo of babysitting duty. Nessa had also not returned since storming out earlier, and Victor and Hookwolf were still out on their assignment. Even Oni-Lee had disappeared, apparently whisked away somewhere unknown by Night and Fog. Max didn't know what exactly that was all about, but at least Oni-Lee was making friends.

He sighed as he turned and walked out of the office, making the long trip down the stairwell. He had worked plenty of late nights in his time running Medhall and the Empire, but tonight, he just didn't want to stay here alone.

Max checked his phone as he descended the stairs, and stopped when he noticed the thirty-seven unread messages and fourteen missed calls.

"...Oh."

Come to think of it, he hadn't unmuted his phones after the seminar, had he?

"Shit..." he said, checking his other phone and finding a similar number of notifications.

Most of the missed messages were from a few hours ago. Crusader had sent a couple, but there were also a few from his unpowered underlings, and some from Cricket and her team. Something about attacks on the shelters by Coil? A few others also appeared to have tried to reach him while the situation was ongoing, including both Hookwolf and Purity shortly after each of them had left.

It took Max a while to piece together, but the picture he was getting was that Coil had launched simultaneous attacks on Cricket and Crusader's shelters earlier today while the rest of them were all busy at Medhall. Both had tried to call Kaiser and some of their other capes for reinforcements while they were unreachable, but the attacks were apparently over before anybody responded. There didn't seem to be any reports of major damage or loss of life as far as he could tell, but some were mentioning that Crusader was now missing.

"...Fuuuuuuuck..."

Max dialled Kayden as he continued down the stairs, but it went to voicemail. Brad didn't pick up either. He eventually got through to one of Crusader's unpowered lieutenants.

"Report," he barked.

"Kaiser, sir," came the fearful voice of the man on the other end. "We don't know what happened. Crusader, he... he went out to confront Coil's mercenaries when they attacked, and he drove most of them off, but then we lost him. We think he flew away somewhere, but we don't know where. Cricket got here shortly after; she's still here now. And Purity just left an hour ago to search."

Max cursed.

"Okay. Fine. Keep searching. Tell Cricket to text me, and contact me if you find him."

He hung up as he passed through the lobby, now empty save for him and a single security guard, whom he exchanged curt nods with as he stepped out into the streets.

Max didn't go for his car. Instead, he started walking.

He didn't have a destination in mind, instead wandering the flooded and ruined streets of downtown Brockton as he pondered the events of the day.

In some ways, it had been a success. The seminar had gone well, Oni-Lee's admission into the gang had gone about as smoothly as it possibly could've, and he had high hopes for their plan to convince Parian to help them rebrand. Coil's attacks and Crusader's disappearance were problems, but on the other hand, the relief efforts had apparently attracted some real interest from the people of Brockton before they went wrong, and the Protectorate and PRT were seemingly cooperating for now. It wasn't going perfectly, but but so far, Max had every indication that his efforts to reform and rebrand the Empire could and would be successful.

So why did he still feel like he was failing?

It was the girls, he realised. It was Kayden and Nessa. The entire reason he had started down this path was that he wanted to take better care of his family, to show them the love they deserved, and to be someone who they could actually love in return.

He had thought that de-radicalising the Empire was the way to do that. He knew that Kayden disapproved of his old methods, which was why she'd left him and tried to be a hero in the first place, so surely changing the way the Empire operated and becoming a hero himself was good, wasn't it? Theo, at least, seemed to respect what he was trying to do with Oni-Lee, and he was curious to find out if young Andrew had also made a difference to his opinions on his father. But Kayden? Kayden still just seemed irritated by his very existence, and doubted everything he was doing. What would it actually take to win her approval?

And then there was Nessa. She had been more of an afterthought at first. She was a casual lover, and a loyal follower. He hadn't needed to win her over, so he had also taken it for granted that she would continue to be loyal to him as the plan progressed. After all, it wasn't like he didn't care about her, or wasn't working in her best interests. True, Nessa was more ideologically motivated than Kayden, and he could've predicted that she might not take the truth of his intentions very well, but what did it matter? The plan was still achieving everything he had promised her. He was giving her a fresh start, safety from the law, and a chance to live a peaceful life. Why had he lost her?

Was Hookwolf right after all, Max wondered? Were his efforts doomed to failure? What if the people he was trying to save were already too deeply mired in the ideology he'd pushed on them to accept his help in pulling them back out? And what if the people who actually wanted to change still hated and rejected him, because they saw him as too integral a part of what they were trying to escape? What if trying to be honest and good just got him cast out by both sides, a pariah, hated by all, and loved by none? What if he couldn't be truly loved, because he was just fundamentally bad?

Why am I never good enough...?

He stopped, as he realised where he'd walked to. Jeb's Diner loomed in front of him, a dim light on inside while two black men were hard at work tearing up the floor. The broken windows had been replaced, and the front door was no longer hanging off its hinges, nor were there lights and loose wires hanging from the ceiling anymore. The interior was a lot more stark, with all the tables and chairs moved towards the back wall and stacked up high, and all of Jeb's pictures and ornaments removed from the walls, but the place didn't look like it was shutting. More like being renovated.

Max smiled to himself. He was glad to see that the flooding hadn't finished Jeb off. It looked like the old man was really going to try to fix it up and give it another go. Max wished him all the best. Running a small business was difficult at the best of times, and it would be rough days ahead for Brockton Bay, but the people who lived here were resilient. Just as Max was rebuilding Medhall, people like Jeb were also picking up the pieces and rebuilding. It was... heartening, in a way.

One of the workers looked up, meeting Max's eyes, and froze. Max stiffened in return, his smile becoming brittle. He realised then that he knew the man. Not personally, but he recognised him from some of the pictures that usually decorated the diner walls. He recognised both of the workers, in fact. They were Jeb's eldest grandsons. Carpenters by trade. Michael and... Jesse, maybe? He didn't quite remember.

Max waved. The one who'd been staring stood up, saying something to the other. Max didn't remember which one was which, but he guessed that the first brother was maybe Michael. The second brother looked at Max with a concerned frown, said something back, and then quickly left for the back room. Maybe Michael continued to stand and stare, and Max began to wonder if it would be better if he left.

Jeb emerged from the back room, followed by Possibly Jesse. Unlike last time, the old man didn't look afraid, instead marching straight over to the door, grey moustache bristling furiously with every step.

Max startled as Jeb yanked the new door open, loudly jingling the shop bell above it.

"What do you want?" Jeb snapped.

"I—"

"Get out!"

Max held up his hands, backing away.

"Okay. Sorry. I just—"

"I said get out!" Jeb literally spat on the ground at Max's feet. "Fuck off! Nobody wants to see you here, you evil, lying, two-faced, racist motherfucker!"

Jeb's grandsons had moved to stand behind him at his shoulders. Max noticed that they were carrying weapons. Maybe Michael swallowed, sweating as his trembling hand squeezed a box cutter, while Possibly Jesse tightly held onto a power drill, staring Max down with a cool confidence. Neither of them could've hoped to hurt him; he was Kaiser, after all. They clearly knew it, too. But still they both looked him in the eyes and held their ground, following their grandfather's lead.

Brave lads.

"Okay. I'm going." Max turned around, hands in the air. "I just wanted to say I'm sor—"

"Get the fuck out!"

A weak shove in the back pushed him forward, and Max stumbled and lost his footing, falling face-first into a puddle.

For a moment, Max's world was darkness and the taste of salt. Then he pulled his face out of the water and coughed, spitting up and snorting out dirty seawater. His wet hair was plastered to his face, and his hands and shirt were filthy.

Laying there on the sidewalk, Max looked up over his shoulder at Jeb and his grandsons. The old man silently stared at him, a flicker of brief concern crossing his face, like he was debating whether to apologise. But hatred soon won out, as Jeb's scornful frown reasserted itself. He turned his back on him, and walked back inside, his grandsons following soon after.

Max let out a sigh.

I probably deserved that, he mused, standing up and brushing himself down.

He got walking quickly, lest he bother Jeb's family any further, this time definitively heading in the direction of home.

Max didn't know what to do with his feelings anymore. He should've felt angry, being disrespected and humiliated like that, especially by ordinary people who he could've mopped the floor with if he felt like it. But instead he just felt horrible.

He knew why. He had spoken to and been friendly with Jeb on many previous occasions. He'd considered them acquaintances of a sort. It was only natural that he felt some kind of kinship with the man, and mourned the loss of that friendship after the truth came out and ruined it all. He even understood that he felt guilt and regret because it was his own previous actions that caused Jeb to feel that way.

What he didn't understand was why he was only feeling that guilt now. He had always known that he was lying to Jeb every time he had spoken to him before. He had always shown him a false face, always known that he was betraying him, and that there were plenty of good men like him out there who suffered and lived in fear of the Empire every day because of him, but Max had never cared about any of that until now. He liked Jeb, but he had always held himself at an emotional distance, always ready to one day hear the news that he or his family had been collateral damage of the Empire's mission. He'd thought he would be okay with that if the time ever came, that he would easily bury the guilt. After all, what was one more body on the pile, after everything he'd already done?

Maybe he just hadn't expected to lose that relationship like this. For Jeb to still be alive, and to know to hate him for everything. Maybe he just hadn't been ready to see that friendly face so twisted with hatred, and to know that it was entirely his own fault.

The metal inside him pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and Max felt the layers of iron and steel expanding, coating his bones, protecting his organs, and reinforcing his veins and arteries. It was an unconscious application of his power, one he didn't even notice he was doing until it was already halfway done.

Max flexed his fingers as he felt his biometals shaping themselves inside them, marvelling at the sensation. It was almost like his power was working by itself, trying to protect him from some unseen threat. But what had driven it to do that now, when he wasn't even in combat? Why not earlier, when Jeb had pushed him down? He didn't understand.

Well, a mystery for another time. He could worry about all this when he got home.

Max kept on walking.

---

Amy Dallon sighed as she stepped out into the cool Brockton Bay evening, finally leaving behind the humid, cloying air of Brockton General. Healing days had already been unbearably monotonous and soul-crushing before Leviathan, but they were even worse now, with every hospital in the city full to bursting with casualties. Brockton General in particular was extremely unpleasant at the moment, with its broken air conditioning, and substandard coffee, and that one bitch nurse who kept interrupting her breaks trying to make small talk, when all Amy wanted was to be left alone so she could write on her phone and cry in peace.

It should have been a relief to finally be done with it for the day. Normally, it would've been. Even with the cold receptions from Carol and the awkward family dinners waiting back home, Amy still enjoyed seeing her sister at the end of a long shift, and getting to spend her evenings with her favourite person in the world. Those times when Vicky would fly her home from the hospital in a princess carry were usually the highlight of Amy's days – as well as the subject of many shameful late night fantasies and filthy fanfics.

But even that small joy had been stolen from her ever since Mark had suffered brain damage fighting Leviathan, and Amy had refused to heal him. None of her family understood why, and she had felt the growing rift between them ever since, with even Vicky being pissed at her to the point that they almost weren't speaking anymore. Amy couldn't exactly blame them, since it wasn't like she had explained herself well, but how could she possibly tell them the truth? The moment they understood why she was refusing to help was the moment she lost them all forever. She wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

So that left Amy in this lightless, joyless limbo, trying to assuage her guilt by alternating between making Mark comfortable at home, and doing her usual rounds at the hospital, but now with the added misery of a longer commute and no sister cuddles. Instead all she could do was listen to music on her phone as she walked home alone through the shitty, depressing hellscape that was post-Leviathan Brockton Bay, holding up the hem of her Panacea robes to avoid them getting wet in all the giant puddles in the street.

Amy came to her usual bus stop, only half paying attention, until she noticed that it was smashed to pieces and tagged with Merchants graffiti. The road itself was also even more flooded than it had been a couple days ago, apparently owing to a newly ruptured sewer, which even now was bubbling up more water in the middle of the road like a fountain. Amy didn't understand how that had even happened.

"...God fucking damnit!" she yelled.

She barely resisted the urge to throw her phone on the ground in a rage; she only had the one. Instead she settled for furiously kicking the destroyed bus stop.

"Fuck you! Fucking Merchants! No more healing for any of you! You fucked with my bus route? I'm gonna give you all tastebuds inside your assholes, you motherfuckers!"

Amy seethed as she kicked a piece of metal especially hard, and pain shot through her foot. Backing off, she put her hands on her hips, catching her breath, and trying to calm herself.

Could this day get any worse?

"...Panacea?" someone called.

She lifted her gaze to the source of the voice, her lips beginning to form the standard New Wave PR response for politely telling someone to fuck off. But instead, her pupils dilated, her mouth hung open, and her body locked up, as she saw Max fucking Anders on the other side of the street, carelessly walking over to her through the floodwater, and breaking into a smile as he waved.

"Wha... Huh?!" Amy blinked rapidly. "How—?!"

"Panacea!" said Kaiser, sounding uncharacteristically upbeat as he came to a stop next to her. "I thought that was you! What a pleasant surprise. Please, don't be alarmed! I'm not here to fight. I appreciate that I'm probably not a welcome sight for you at the best of times, but I just wanted to come over and express my personal thanks to you nonetheless, for everything you did for me."

"What...? What are you...? How did...?" Amy babbled in a daze. "Th-Thanks? Thanks for what?"

Max stood up straight, assuming a still friendly but more businesslike demeanour. It was only then that Amy noticed he was wearing a dirty, wet, and obviously oversized t-shirt for some reason.

"Purity informs me that I have you to thank for my recovery. You healed me after I was nearly killed by Leviathan. Truce situation or not, I believe that warrants proper thanks. I would even like to repay the favour, if you would be willing to give me the opportunity?"

Amy stared at him.

"You were... brain damaged," she whispered in quiet awe. "No, more than that. You were missing half your brain! How are you... walking around? How are you talking?!"

"I got better." Kaiser grinned. "Clearly."

"But how? I just fixed your body! I didn't fix... this! I don't do brains!"

Did the Empire have another healer besides Othala, she wondered? Did Kaiser have access to someone who could fix brains?

...Would that someone be able to fix Mark?

"Well, you must've done something right." Kaiser casually shrugged. "Whatever was wrong with me initially, the problem seemed to fix itself shortly after you saw me."

Amy felt her blood turn to ice in her veins.

"No..." She shook her head, turning away from to stare at the ground. "No, no, no, no...! Jesus, God, NO!"

This was basically Amy's worst nightmare coming true right in front of her; she had lost control of her powers, and done brains. On Kaiser of all fucking people!

Amy fell to her knees, uncaring of dirtying her robes anymore, as she grabbed her frizzy hair in both hands and began hyperventilating.

Kaiser just stood there, staring down at her uncomprehendingly.

"...Ah, I understand." Kaiser adopted a solemn expression, nodding gently. "You are upset with yourself for unintentionally helping such a notorious villain recover his full strength. But fret not, Panacea! For I have given up my evil ways!"

Amy's hyperventilating stopped, but only because she stopped breathing altogether.

"What?" she said, the word coming out as a strangled squeak.

Kaiser smiled knowingly as she stared up at him in pure bewilderment.

"It's true! Following my recovery, I have set out on the path of redemption, and am now attempting to reform and de-Nazify the Empire Eighty-Eight! In fact, I was just today discussing with my followers how best to approach and make peace with New Wave. I know that there has been a lot of bad blood between our groups in the past; that whole Fleur incident was... just terrible, and I now deeply regret it. But rest assured, we are fully committed to making amends for our past transgressions in whichever way New Wave may see fit! You need only give the word."

Amy's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. She felt herself sinking, as though a chasm had opened up in the Earth beneath to swallow her whole.

"Oh Jesus, oh fuck, oh God!" Amy wailed, tearing her hair out in clumps. "Oh shit, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCKING SHIT, FUCK, GOD, NO!"

It was even worse than she thought. She hadn't just lost control and accidentally healed Kaiser's brain. She had accidentally mastered him, too!

She had fucking mastered Kaiser!

Kaiser was looking down at her with concern, raising a single eyebrow.

"Are you okay, Miss Dallon?" he asked. "You seem... upset."

"I need to fix it..." Amy muttered to herself as she stood, fanning herself while trying and failing to get her breathing under control. "Need to fix it. Need to fix it."

She turned to Kaiser, holding her hand out.

"I need to fix you. Let me fix what I did. Please!"

Kaiser stared again for a moment, obviously confused. Then he suddenly chuckled, brushing her off with a dismissive wave.

"Oh, I see! No, no, don't worry yourself, Miss Dallon! There's no need to be upset! You did a perfectly good job the first time. I felt and feel perfectly fine. You might even say I feel like a... whole new man..."

Amy went completely limp, eyes fixed on her feet in a hollow stare. All her internal thoughts came shuddering to a halt, replaced by a single, silent, continuous screaming in her brain.

"Hmm..." Kaiser stroked his beard. "You seem stressed. Tell you what. You're done with your hospital rounds for the day? I'm done with my business as well. Why don't we go somewhere nice and relax? I'll buy you a drink, you can sit and calm down a bit, and we can call your family to come get you when you're feeling better. How does that sound?"

Amy didn't respond, completely numb to the world and no longer processing his words.

"...Okay!" Kaiser clapped his hands, wearing a cheerful smile. "Drinks it is! Come with me! I know a place that should still be open..."

He grabbed Amy by the sleeve of her robes, pulling her along, and her legs worked automatically as she followed behind him, unresisting and uncomprehending.

What the fuck had she done?

---

Author's notes:

Chapter theme:

Jonathan Young - Crazy Noisy Bizarre Town

I would like to point out to you all that despite how cringe Coil was throughout that entire meeting scene, that was still the timeline he chose to go with; by implication, this means that the other timeline must have been even more embarrassing for him.

I'll just leave you with that little thought.