Sophia was determined to change tactics. She'd made a fool of herself once, and she wasn't going to let Loki win again. No more shouting matches, no more wild accusations. If she was going to deal with this, she needed to be smarter—more composed.
In the Wards' common area, she leaned casually against the wall, her arms crossed, watching as Taylor joked with Clockblocker and Vista. The green horns of Loki's costume gleamed under the lights, catching her eye like an irritant she couldn't ignore.
Sophia schooled her expression into one of neutrality. If Taylor wanted to mess with her, she'd make it clear she couldn't be shaken.
"Loki," Sophia said, her tone measured as she walked over to the group. "Got a minute?"
Taylor looked up, tilting her head curiously. "Of course," she said smoothly. "What's up, Shadow Stalker?"
The rest of the Wards glanced between them, sensing the tension but unsure if it was about to escalate again.
Sophia motioned toward the hallway. "Let's talk. Privately."
Taylor stood, brushing imaginary dust off her costume. "Lead the way," she said, her calm confidence unwavering.
They walked a short distance down the hall, away from the others, until Sophia was certain they wouldn't be overheard. She turned to face Taylor, her posture controlled, her voice low but firm.
"I'm not falling for it anymore," Sophia began. "Whatever illusions you're pulling, whatever tricks you're playing—it stops now."
Taylor arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Oh? And what exactly do you think I'm doing?"
"You know what I'm talking about," Sophia said, keeping her tone even. "You're trying to make me look bad, trying to turn the team against me. But I'm not going to lose my cool again. You won't get to me."
Taylor smiled faintly, the kind of smile that was both infuriating and impossible to read. "Interesting theory," she said. "But if I were doing any of that, you'd think you'd have some proof by now."
Sophia's jaw tightened. "You're good at hiding it. I'll give you that. Even now, you're acting like we didn't have a conversation in the hallway the other day. You're very good—I'll vote to get you a fucking Oscar. But you can't keep this up forever. Eventually, people will see through you."
Taylor's smile grew just a fraction. "Maybe. Or maybe they'll just keep seeing what I want them to see. After all, you've fooled the world for years. They think you're a star athlete, a hero. You live a lie. You always have, and now I'm tearing you down with the truth. Congrats on figuring out how to navigate high school, but you don't have what it takes to survive in the real world."
Sophia narrowed her eyes, but Taylor continued before she could respond.
"Funny thing is," Taylor said, her voice soft and conversational, "this wouldn't have happened if you were anything but a bully."
Sophia stiffened, but she kept her expression neutral. "What's your point?"
"My point," Taylor said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper, "is that you bunch of animals taught me exactly what to do. How to find those little cracks in the armor and widen them. You might think you're in control, but you're not. Not anymore."
Sophia's fists clenched at her sides, but she forced herself to stay calm. "You're not as clever as you think you are."
Taylor tilted her head, her smile sharpening. "It doesn't take much to be smarter than you. And you're not as tough as you pretend to be. Lone wolf, alpha predator, whatever you want to call yourself—it doesn't matter. Because the moment you start grasping for the team's approval, for support, you lose. And everyone knows it. You're not friends with Emma or anyone else. You just use people who suit you to make your life easier and more fun—isn't that how you see the world? Useful people and obstacles. People who know how to take advantage and stay on top, and those destined to stay at the bottom. Of course, you're stupid, so you'd put it in simpler terms. Predators and prey?"
Sophia glared at her, but before she could respond, Taylor stepped back and raised her voice just enough to carry down the hall.
"Well, this has been a productive talk, Shadow Stalker," Taylor said, her tone bright and friendly. "I'm glad we could clear the air. It's important for teammates to communicate, don't you think?"
Sophia's eyes widened as she realized what Taylor was doing, but it was too late.
Clockblocker popped his head around the corner, his curiosity piqued. "Everything okay?"
Taylor turned to him with a smile. "Oh, absolutely. Shadow Stalker just wanted to make sure we're on the same page. She's really focused on teamwork lately."
Sophia's jaw clenched as she struggled to keep her composure.
"Really?" Clockblocker said, raising an eyebrow. "That's… new."
Taylor shrugged, her expression perfectly innocent. "People can surprise you." She turned back to Sophia, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Thanks for the talk, Shadow Stalker. I feel like we're really starting to understand each other."
Without waiting for a response, Taylor walked past Clockblocker, her calm, confident stride making it clear who'd come out on top.
Clockblocker lingered for a moment, glancing at Sophia. "Uh… good talk?" he said awkwardly before following Taylor back to the common area.
Sophia stood alone in the hallway, her nails digging into her palms. She'd thought she could outsmart Loki, but Taylor had turned the situation on its head, leaving her looking like the unreasonable one yet again.
Taylor's words echoed in her mind: You're not as tough as you pretend to be.
—
Taylor sat in her quarters, a grin spreading across her face as she considered the plan. The pieces were all in place—Sophia was volatile, distrustful, and too proud to back down when pushed. Taylor just needed to light the match and let it burn.
Drawing a deep breath, she activated her powers. The green glow of her illusionary magic shimmered around her as her form shifted. Her slender frame expanded, her costume melting away into the familiar black and gray of Shadow Stalker's attire.
One of the many applications of her powers she hadn't disclosed to the Protectorate. If she'd known Sophia was here, she'd have revealed even less.
Her reflection in the mirror grinned back at her, green horns gone and replaced with the menacing mask Sophia wore so proudly. She straightened up, rolling her shoulders and mimicking Sophia's cocky stance.
Perfect.
—
Later that night, the streets of Brockton Bay were quiet, save for the occasional hum of a car or the distant sound of sirens. Taylor—disguised as Shadow Stalker—perched on a rooftop near a convenience store.
Timing was everything. She'd studied Sophia's patrol patterns, the way she moved, even the way she talked when interacting with civilians. Tonight, Taylor was going to make sure everyone believed that Shadow Stalker had stepped out of line.
Luckily, Shadow Stalker was a ticking time bomb, and lately there were few things she could do that the Protectorate wouldn't have feared already.
A group of teenagers loitered outside the store, their laughter carrying through the chilly air. Taylor smirked. She leapt down from the rooftop, landing with the predatory grace Sophia was known for. She had to admit—Sophia's physicality was impressive.
"Break it up," she barked, her voice an uncanny imitation of Sophia's curt tone.
The teens froze at her sudden appearance. Her voice snapped them to attention. One of them, a boy with a skateboard, frowned. "We're not doing anything."
Taylor stepped closer, her body language radiating aggressive dominance—practically screaming, "Give me an excuse to fuck you up, make my day."
"You're loitering. Move along, or I'll make you move."
The boy hesitated, then muttered, "This is harassment."
"Harassment?" Taylor said, stepping into his space. She grabbed the skateboard from his hands and snapped it in half with a single motion, throwing the pieces at his feet. "You want to see harassment? Keep mouthing off. I'll shove what's left of this piece of crap up your ass. Nice and deep—maybe you'll end up liking it."
The group scattered, shouting protests as they ran.
Taylor snapped her fingers, swapping places with a clone she'd left on a nearby rooftop and returning to her original form. No green lights or smoke this time.
Subtlety, just in case.
—
Letting Sophia ruin herself, pretty much all on her own, was a delicious plan. Getting what she deserved, what she'd always had coming. Loki was smart, careful, and patient, but... suddenly she felt tempted to go a step further.
Oh well. It wasn't like it was dangerous. How could they possibly catch her?
Taylor knew that simply scaring off some teenagers wouldn't be enough. For the same reason that had led her to do it. She was sure that Sophia regularly crossed the line, though not enough to end her probation—at least not in public—and she only wanted her to be a greater annoyance to the PRT, not to push her into or make it seem as if she had crossed a new line.
However...
Taylor broke into a nearby storage unit she knew Sophia had used as a staging area during her more reckless solo patrols. Of course, she didn't do this in her own appearance.
The interior was sparse, but Taylor's eyes gleamed as she found what she was looking for: a stash of equipment Sophia had "appropriated" from various criminals.
Pulling out her phone, Taylor took a series of photos—her hand, inside Shadow Stalker's glove, holding the stolen gear. She left only a small part of the glove visible, in one corner. As if it were nothing more than a mistake.
Then, for the finishing touch, she tagged the wall with a quick spray of paint: a crude representation of the PRT logo crossed out with an X. It was juvenile, reckless, and utterly believable as something Sophia might do in a fit of rage.
No one listened to her, no one believed her, after all. She had plenty of reasons to be angry.
Taylor slipped back into the shadows.