My name is Taylor Hebert.

I'm just a teenager, but I think I've already learned the most important lesson for getting ahead in life. Of course, as a rule, teenagers are arrogant idiots who think they know everything. The difference is, I'm not an idiot. Just arrogant.

Here's the truth: Everyone is their own God of Lies.

And the best lie, the most important one, is about who you are.

Taylor stood in front of the Wards for the first time, her hands clasped behind her back, green horns adorning her head. She had gone without the mask. Wasn't even sure what to design—everything she'd tried had felt wrong, somehow. Like she shouldn't have to hide her face. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. She could feel their eyes on her.

Why wouldn't they stare at the newcomer? It was obvious, but she didn't like the attention. She wasn't good at those things. Introductions, group projects—all that crap brought her down a bitter path. She'd rather take a thousand steps back. Stay in the shadows.

"I'm Taylor Hebert. Codename: Loki," she announced, her voice steady, though she felt anything but calm. I'm only here because of Danny. Because of Dad. She hadn't been able to hide her powers, hard to control as they were, and he'd begged her—if she felt the need to use them, to at least do it responsibly. Taylor hadn't been able to refuse. She'd already put him through enough, even if she feared the Wards would just be high school all over again. "And yes, the name is exactly what you think it is."

Clockblocker raised a hand, though he didn't wait for permission to speak. "I don't read much, but yeah. The Norse god? Bit of an ego, there."

Then someone placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear: "Actually, no. But it's hard to find good names that aren't already taken."

Except the Taylor who did it wasn't the one standing in front of everyone—it was a perfect copy. One that dissolved into green smoke a moment later.

"Okay," Clockblocker whistled. "Cool. Also creepy."

Vista frowned, leaning forward in her chair. "Don't get me wrong, it's cool, but… are you just an illusionist? That doesn't seem super useful out there."

She spoke as if the Wards actually dealt with real problems, aside from emergencies. The Wards program existed mostly to train them in a safe environment. Taylor rolled her eyes. But besides that, I'm stronger than them. She was sure of that.

"If I told you all my tricks up front, where's the fun in that?" She held up a hand, and the light in the room seemed to warp, drawing shadows to her palm. A second later, the shadows solidified into a shimmering green dagger, which she spun casually before letting it dissolve.

"Not just illusions," Armsmaster said, his deep voice cutting through the room. That guy knew nothing about fun. And to think she'd once owned underwear with his face on it. He stood at the head of the table, his tone as measured as always. "Based on her demonstration during recruitment, Loki also has shapeshifting capabilities—limited to animals and non-living objects—energy projection, and minor teleportation."

Taylor smiled to herself. Right. Limited to animals and non-living things. Why would I reveal all my tricks?

"Minor teleportation?" Kid Win asked.

Taylor smirked. "Depends on the eye of the beholder, I guess." She snapped her fingers, vanishing in a burst of green energy. Before anyone could react, she reappeared, lounging in Clockblocker's chair, her feet propped up on the table. Clockblocker had, of course, abandoned the chair to stand up at some point. She wouldn't do something as shameless as sitting in a boy's lap she barely knew. Not that she was half as attractive as she'd need to be for that to work on any guy.

"Hey!" Clockblocker protested.

Taylor gave him an innocent look. "Sorry. Was this your seat?" She snapped her fingers again and reappeared back where she'd been standing, leaving Clockblocker muttering under his breath.

"Okay, I'm calling it now—she's going to be a pain in the ass," Shadow Stalker said from her spot by the wall, arms crossed. She was the only one who hadn't removed her mask. Well, the only one besides Armsmaster. Taylor couldn't help but notice.

"Better a pain than a bore."

Armsmaster nodded curtly. "Enough chitchat. You'll have your first patrol with Vista and Clockblocker tomorrow. Dismissed."

As the Wards began to file out, Clockblocker fell into step beside Taylor. "So, Loki, huh? What's your plan for your big debut?"

Taylor glanced at him, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. She didn't feel confident—she felt weak and scared—but that's exactly why the illusion mattered. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Clockblocker chuckled. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna regret asking."

—

Taylor leaned against the wall of the Wards' common area, idly spinning a conjured dagger between her fingers. The team had finished a relatively uneventful patrol, but something about Shadow Stalker's sharp-edged attitude had grated on her more than such morons usually did. The girl was always tense, always looking for an excuse to snap.

Maybe it had nothing to do with her. Maybe Shadow Stalker wasn't doing this to establish pecking order, knock the new girl down a peg, and there wasn't a more personal motive.

Maybe. Just maybe.

Taylor didn't mind pricking at people—she was a trickster, after all—but Shadow Stalker radiated something else. Something darker.

As the others joked and relaxed around the table, Shadow Stalker stalked off to the locker room, her body language practically daring someone to follow. Taylor didn't need much of an excuse. She snapped her fingers, vanishing in a puff of green energy, and reappeared silently in the hallway just outside.

The door clicked shut behind Shadow Stalker, and Taylor crept closer, her presence concealed by an illusion. She was completely invisible, though someone attentive might still hear her footsteps. She didn't like the idea of spying on her teammates on her first day, but something told her this wasn't just about satisfying curiosity.

Inside the locker room, she heard the faint rustle of fabric and Shadow Stalker's mask being removed.

A dark-skinned girl with sharp features and an even sharper scowl stared back at her—no, not at her. Sophia Hess stared into the locker room mirror, running a hand through her short, tightly curled hair. Taylor froze, her breath caught in her throat.

Sophia. Sophia Hess. The same Sophia who had pushed her into a locker, humiliated her in front of half the school, and turned her life into a daily nightmare.

The dagger Taylor had conjured earlier appeared in her hand, its emerald glow flickering faintly as her emotions churned. She could feel the familiar anger rising, the sting of humiliation and despair she'd buried beneath layers of defiance. For a moment, her grip on the dagger tightened, her thoughts spiraling.

But then she stopped herself.

"Not yet," she whispered under her breath. With a wave of her hand, the dagger vanished into smoke. This wasn't the time.

She'd sworn to herself she'd never be a victim again.

That she'd take what she wanted, what she deserved, instead of letting herself be trampled.

Nothing had changed. She'd died in that locker and been reborn as someone else. A woman who wouldn't back down from anyone. So she wouldn't spout nonsense about revenge not being worth it or how it made you as bad as your tormentor. Still, there were a thousand better ways to get even. Slitting Sophia's throat here would be easy, but it'd only earn her a trip to the nearest prison. Her reputation would shatter while Sophia was buried as a victim.

That was intolerable. Anything but that.

Instead, she snapped her fingers again, making herself visible with an unnecessary puff of smoke and flash of green light.

Sophia spun around, startled, her mask still in her hand. "What the hell?"

Taylor smiled, tilting her head. "Relax, Shadow Stalker. It's just me." Her eyes flicked to Sophia's mask, then back to her face. "Or should I say… Sophia?"

The way Sophia's face paled was almost satisfying. Almost.

"Get out," Sophia hissed.

She still thinks she can push me around. Wants to believe it, even though she paled the moment I opened my mouth instead of cowering helplessly. No wonder. After all, Taylor held the information needed to destroy her life. It was all fun and games until Sophia faced the slightest risk. So brave, such an alpha.

Taylor ignored her, taking a slow step forward. "You know, you've got an interesting habit of hiding who you really are. Not just the mask, either. I mean… a hero? That's rich."

Sophia stepped closer, her jaw tight. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Taylor's smile widened, though there was no humor in it. "Oh, I think I do. And you know what's funny? I never would've guessed you'd end up here, playing hero. You don't strike me as the type to 'protect and serve.' More like… 'intimidate and bully.' Sound familiar?"

Sophia's hands clenched into fists, but Taylor raised a glowing hand before she could say anything. "Relax. I'm not going to tell anyone. Not yet, anyway. But let me be clear." She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a dangerous whisper. "I don't forget, and I don't forgive. You don't get to play the high-and-mighty hero around me, not after what you did."

Sophia glared at her, but there was no witty retort, no defiant sneer. Just silence.

Taylor leaned back, her grin returning to something lighter, more teasing. "Well, this has been fun. We should do it again sometime. Maybe over coffee?" With a snap of her fingers, she vanished, leaving Sophia alone in the locker room.

Taylor appeared in her new room. She'd left a clone there earlier so no one would suspect anything. So this was the first time she'd actually gotten a good look at it. Didn't matter. It was just a room like any other.

She doubted it would ever feel like a home away from home, especially after what she'd learned today.

She had to admit Dad was right. She'd made the right choice joining the Wards.

Now that she knew Sophia was here—strutting around the world like a star athlete at school and pretending to be a hero outside—she wouldn't rest until both problems were fixed. Until the world made sense again.

"Game on," she murmured to herself.