Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

July 2009

“Now, there’s going to be a meteor shower tonight, everyone!” the camp counsellor declared, raising her voice to speak over the near two dozen boys and girls assembled before her. “But please make sure that nobody strays out of camp without one of us, it’s very easy to get lost in the woods, and we don’t want to have to call your parents to say that we lost you!” 

Already a few of the kids under their watch were craning their necks, some of them with lips slightly parted, as if expecting to see tell-tale streaks of light against the dark pink of the evening sky.

One in particular, a young redhead standing near the back, turned to her fellow, one of those with eyes turned towards the sky. 

“Are you going to stay up for the meteors, Taylor?”

“Hm, I think so, it will be neat, right? To see shooting stars even if just for a little bit, I mean it's not like we can see them in the Bay.”

“All that light pollution stuff?”

“Yeah.”

As the other campers began to disperse, the counsellors did the same, either to follow and direct their young charges were doing or to take care of the next bit of organisation for the night.

“Apparently the meteors are coming at the same time as a comet from all the way from the very far edge of the solar system!” Taylor added, looking back down from the sky to focus on her best friend, Emma Barnes.

“You dork, c’mon,” Emma turned and began leading the way, Taylor catching up after a moment and frowning.

“They said not to go too far, Em's---”

“There’s a ridge not far from camp, just along the road a bit, we can get a good view there!” The tugging intensified, Emma leading Taylor further down the road.

“But---”

“It’s not that far, we’ll be fine, if we hear them shouting, then it’s just a minute or two.”

Privately, Taylor wondered whether Emma’s ‘minute or two’ would really be that long, her best friend had been overly optimistic with time before, but indeed, only a brief walk from the camp later and using the little remaining daylight as a guide, the pair found the raised and rocky seat on which to view the stars.

The sun descended with an agonising slowness; conversation passed between them to speed up the process of waiting for evening to pass into night. When the first stars became visible, Taylor pointed them out with excitement, although Emma got the first streaking star. 

One, then another. 

Faintly visible streaks across the sky that became more and more easy to distinguish as the minutes crawled by.

They sat side by side, hoping to get a meteor right in the centre of their vision... yet inevitably, each falling piece of debris was always off to the side, barely lasting a second or more.

Gone the moment they focused on it.

Five minutes, ten, fifteen.

Taylor Hebert hugged her knees close. 

How long had it been since things had felt normal like this? Certainly not at home with her dad, not with the long awkward silences in which both would struggle to find the right words, not with the strange distance formed by her mother’s death. 

Perhaps, despite her initial misgivings, this summer camp would not be such a bad idea, time away from home, away from the city. Just able to spend time with Emma, without worries about home and without thoughts about---

A flash filled the sky, a meteor larger than others. Over the course of a few seconds, the light only grew brighter and brighter as it lanced through the heavens towards the earth.

Both girls looked at it.

“Hey, that one's really close---”

The world exploded.

…

…

…

The summer camp behind them was burning. The ground was changing as it turned glossy, a sheen of crystal creeping forward from the impact site in the distance, changing everything it encountered. 

A beautiful, alien, shimmering world that had already reached and overtaken.

Taylor's ears rang.

Staring at that thing partially visible beyond the trees, the upper curve of a vast disc. Grey, or silver? No, green… yellow… or a hellish red? It reflected light from the trees burning below it.

Something vast was slowly unfurling like a spider dying in reverse, legs opening and making contact with the ground.

All she could do was stare, as if in a trance, disconnected from the world around her.

“----or!”

Something gripped her arm and pulled. 

She could not escape the feeling that just as she stared at the strange thing in the distance, it was staring right back. That featureless metallic face was pointed in their direction. 

Was it a face?

The pulling sensation again, wrenching her feet from the crystal that had surrounded and enmeshed her shoes as the thing pulling her screamed something, her name?

She could, with a detached serenity, see the blood left from where she had been standing, why was it being pulled into the ground, drawn towards that thing?

C̥̙̯̋ͮ̏ͯ̓̌͌̅ō̙͖̭̝̥̲̣̳͕̂ͩ͆̈́̈͊̂ͯͥ̏ͅǹ̹̫͓̜̖͇̦̠ͭ̍ͤ͆ͤ͒ͧͤ̑s̲̲͂̇͌̔ͤ͑̋ͬ̿̓ͦͧu͍ͫ͂̓̃̊̾̓m̱̫͈̹̻̫̖̲̗̗̤͂̅̈̅́̃̃̚p͚̭̖̤͓̻͔̮̪̙͍̔ͭ̊̒̉̓ͤ̄͌t͕̥͓̫͍̦̳̤̰̦̦͙̾̓ͣ͛̌͗͌͑̆̆i̹͖̹͙̫͖̙͛͑͊̓ͅo̳̻̜͉̟̣̜͕̭̣̿̆̋͒̿̑ͤń̯̝̐̽͛̑ͭ̿ ͎̜̩̙͗͆̉̇ͫ̄ͫ͂̅o͚͋͂̆f̣͇̄ ͍̙͒ͪ͌̄̎ͩͧ̃ṉ̰̝̟̜̥̖̳̥̬͓̣̒̇ͧ̑̐̚ȧ̙̠̪̺̜t̯̫̖͍̬̻̲̱̅̃ͣ̈ͣ͛ͨi̘̲̰̳̘̦̰̼̩͓͕ͣ̌͒̚ͅv͚͈̻̥͔̞̜̤̜ͨ͒̀͊̆ͧ̀̽é̪̯̈́ͧͮ̚ͅ ̬͐̃̂o̫͔̬̫͖̎͂r̭͎͈͙ͦͮ͗̇̅̎̓g̺̰͔̈́͂ͣͭ̎̏̃a͚͕̟̮̍̇ͧ̾n̗̭̱̪̬̻͚͚̣̟̜ͮ̐̌ͪḯ̼̹̪̮̖̈́ͯ̈ͧͯ̊͛c̙̞̃̌ ͖͓̜̬̣͇̤͍̫̼̽ͧ̓̓̿̌ͨͬ̍̃ͪͪͅm͙̞̘͇̻̘̘̤͙̾̌̍ͅa͇͇̙͕̗̻̮ͧ̏̓͐̋̈́̓̿̂̎͆̆t̳̼̠̲͎͚̲̬̍̓ẽ̲̲̜̄ͣͧ̓r̰̞͙ͨ͛̋̂ͥ̚i̩ͥͪ̎̇ͭͥͧa̰̟̦͇̬͈̦͇̻̻̾ͭͦ̑̓͊̋̿͆̎ͥl̙̖̫̘̻̦̭͇̿͌̏̈̂ͫ.̩͔̥͙͇̠͇͎͎͌ͧͧ̀̒̐͑̇ͫ ̬͖̠̣̓ͨ͌̉ͫͅŰ̩͉͖̝͖̦̰̿ͬͮ̎̈̐ͫ̂̚s̩̥̖̭̪͇̹͎̙͆̄̊̐̉ͨͭẹ̍f̤̞̝̠̻̅̍̂̍̏̎̏ͪ͒ͅu͙̬͚͔͙͚͈̭̜̪̾ͯ̊ͅl̮̫̮̣͓͕̻̄͗ͬͭ͌̇̃n̤͍̬͔͕͎̮͍̲̋̌͋̆̐̐ͅe̯̪̱̦̭̺͓̟͉͍̯̘͂̉̈̅͂͋s̺͎̭͂̊͐͋͆͂̇ͪͤͯ͊s̻̩͓̫͖͕̻̳͕̜̙̞ͬ͛̅ͨͧͦ ̯̫̖͈͖͌ͣ̄ͭͣͬ̑n̤̝̞͚͔̰̙̮ͨ̀ͯ̚e̼͎̱̖̙̰͔̙̫̼̗ͮ̑͌̎̄̅̚g͕̠͛̈̀ͅͅl͙̠͕͉̤̯̔̿i̘̮͌̋ͭͥ̐ͯ̑̐̓̈ͫg̲̞̩̣̯̹̞̙̺̗ͣ͂͌͌͊ͅi̻͕͖̙̺̩̣͑̿̏̍b̬͚̞̻͔ͨ̅̑̍̋̐l̹̾ͥ͂͛̓ͧ͛̑̏̄́̅e͇̰̭̲̭͈̳̻̘ͨ̂ͮ̊͑̿.͓̣̤̪̳̱͇̲͓̪͇͗ͤͣ

(Consumption of native organic material. Usefulness negligible)

Ȁ̰͈̳͕̪͎͕̪̤̲͔͔̀͋̀n̳̟̝̝̹̻̖̙̮̗͕̚ä̯̪̫̰̤̫̲͓ͥͪ̈͐ͫ̐̃̎͂̓̈l̹̬̜̤̠͇͚͇̹ͤͧ̐̊̿ͣ̃́͗̿y̖͔̪̺̪͇̼͚̤̭̹͒͐s̰̼̫̙̿͌̐i͙̔̈́ͨ̃̑͛̓s̻ͮ ̞ͬ̈́̅̒̚ő̖̓͂̽̾f͇̦͇̎̽̾͊ͥ̽ ̦̘͎̰̺̰͇̗̗̩̲͑ͯ̋͑̍̅̂s̫̲̜̼̅̒͐̓̑ͫͣ͒o̩ͥu̜͙̣̲̙̰̤̮̞̰͍̱̿̍̐̆ͮr̯̿̈́ͩ̈́̋̈́̓̆ͣc̗̠ͤ̔ẻ͙̣̮̋͊ͮͦͩ ̪̱̯̤͈͎̯͎ͬ̑͒ͦ̚ͅc̪̬̱͙̅̉̽̽͌̚o͇̤̬̙ͬ͒ͣ̏̃̈́̇̔̓m̙̯̫͂ͬ̀̔̓̇͑ͯ͑ͮm͇̭̘̻̩̙̤̹̞͇ͬͪ̍̀ͥ̍̇ͭĕ͇̒ͭ̈́̚n͎͈̯̬̭̠̠̲̖̟̥͕͗̂̐̉̆c̹̟̟̰̯̬̙̓ͧ̍ͧͤ̚ͅi̺̞̼̦̲̘̜͔͇̱̓ͬ͛͊̿̈̅ͦ͑ͯ͊̚ͅn͎͉̙͌͌͊̈́͗̆͊̔ͮͮͬ̏g̹̜̰̲̠ͬ̏̋̈́͒̈̏̑̊̚.̘̮̫̗̗̈ ̻̹̲̻͚̼͎͇̹̤̦ͥ̀A͇̰ͤ̍̓ͦ͗̅͐͊̎̑ͫ̂n͇̻̘̘͇̩̙̈́ͦ̑ͦ̍͐̈̉á͖̤͍͍̤̣͈͓̩̯̣̥̓ͣ̇̉̎ͮ͒̅͌̓l̜͇̠̩̣͛͊͊ͫ̏ͩ̆̚y̥̣̝̤̝͍͓͍̌͋ͭͬͨ̉̀ͦͥs̹͍̙͈̤͔̽i̪͉̖̤̣͎͕͛ͬ̓̓͑̆͑ͧ͂̆s̹͉̰̭̟͈̹̘͚̘͌͒͐̌̏ͩͧ͊͒ ̙̖̟̹̮̹̘̩̠̤͒̀ͨ̀̃o̬̩̬̥̻͔͍̞̜̼̦̩ͩ͋f̗̣͕͓̗͇̭̲͚̦̲ͧ͌ͯͦ̏ͣͧ̋̌̓̅ ͓̲̘̞̼ͤ͛ͧ̽͊ͮͤͫ̐c̝̮͔͍͈͍͖ͨ͌͑̃̂̊o͎͓̪̖͚͉̲̩͔̿ͫ͑͐̈͐ͦ̀̎ͯͭn̼̺͎̞̟͎̰̂̓̽̈́͌̒s̳̘̟͎̝ͨ̂͌̇̂̿̂̚p̱̗̰͈͔̙͑ͅe̯̼̬̦̟̭̭̲̬͙̯͐͗ͦͦͭč͖̤̤̩̼i̮͇ͨ͊ͧ̓̽ͯf̼̦͐͒ͤi͓̯̪̾̀̿̏c̜̖̟̤̩̩ͧ̃ͅͅs̺̱̞̫͚͉̝̜̥̎̀͑̏ͣ̅̍͂͗̿͒ ̳̜̦̺̞͚̹͙̆̓ͩ̆̈́̆̄̃̔ͪt̘̟̂̅ͣ̆͛o̙̬͉̹̹͈̹̩̫̱̞͋̓̋̔͑͒͋̚ ̲̺̱̻̙̲ͤs̭͖̉o̺̤̯͓̯͍ͥ̔ủ̪̭̮̗͖̜̋͋̔ͣͬ̓̔ͩr͖̬̂͒͆ͦͮ̂̚c͎̔͊ͫ̒ͩͤ͂͊̄ͦ̽̈́ȇ̫̬͊ͬ͑ͮ̔̿̽͑̀͂ ̟̳̫̱͍̖̦̲͖̣̞͐́͑w̺̬̟̍̔̊͒i̭̟̟͎̯̱̞̣ͮ̒ͩ̊ͪͦ̑̽̽t͔̜͍ͥ̀͆ͫ̒̍̔̂͌͗̉ͤh̘̳̪̘ͦ̎̔̍ͩ̊̅͂̂͒̃̚i͓̬ͨ͐̓ͦͩ̾ͬ̉n͔̜͚̳̼̙̅̔ͪ̍ͧ̏ͫ̊ ̩ͧṙ̬͇̳̯̞̥͙̫̺̪̑͂̂͗̅̓͗̈ͭ́̐ȃ̲̩̻̬̳̬̰̰̬̓ͫ̽d̹̱̎́̈͋̽i̩͓͑͑̄̊̆ͬͪ̍̂͆̓u̬̹̥͉̳̫̟͂͗ͣ̃͒s̟̟̹̐ͮ̈

(Analysis of source commencing. Analysis of conspecifics to source within radius

̟̗̘̰͎̩̦̲̰̣ͮ̽̀ͣ͂̆̉͌̍͒͛Ȧ̭͍͍̂͗ͣ͊ͯͬͤ̆ͩ̄n͎̗̣̪͇͙͚̭̪̔ͅo̠͔͓̬̯̙̫̜̔ͧ̈́̃̋͒̑̈̉͆ͅm̖̼̻̔̉ͬ̓ͣa̙̱̺̲̺̦͚̙̬͍͕ͤͦͧ̐l͙̹̺͍͖͚̦̭̦̠͇̅̆͊ͅy̟̟͓̥ͫ͂̂ͯ͆̓̚ ̟͔͕̺̳͖̪̩͇̒̈́̾̊d̺͍̥̙̺̅͐̎̇̎͒ͮ̄̆̓ͫͩe̳̲̙̯͎̔̇̈́̄̈͂̾ṭ̮͇͖̝͓̼̩̰̳̹̗͐ͨͪͣͪͨ͂ͭ̓͆e̻̦͖̹͎̜ͪ̽̀̑ͬ͑̚ͅc̜̲̲̪̣̄͗̐̾̑ͅt͉̩̒ẽ̺̥̹͙̭͕̭̹̙͙̓̿͌͑̍ͮd͓͔̰͚͙̞̟̹͉̺̲͈ͭ͛͆̌ͭ̄̅͌̿̓͌̚

(Anomaly detected)

Even as she struggled not to black out, she could not feel any sort of sensation apart from the utter need to get away. Yet she could not, not of her own will. 

Just looking at it made her feel utterly hopeless, as if she was caught under the crushing weight of an ocean.

A͚͚̦̗̝̦̝̰̖̝͕̿̀ͦ͋̀͗ͨṅ̮̭̳̜̯̲̗̑̏͊̅̉̋ͭ̅ͅò͉̰ͦͬ̆m͕̞͔̬̜͔̞͕̝̤ͭ͗a͔͈̻͇̗͖͔̪̲̥̬͌̓͆̋l̫̮͎̲̻̼̣̥̎̄̄̉͌ͧ̏̄ͭ̚o̭͓̮̤̗̘͙͓̝̯̗ͮͭ̊̍ͯ͐͂̄̓̾̄̚ū̙̩̼͓̺̝͖̻̟ͩ̈́ͯͮ̋ͧ̾ͩͣ͒s̱͔̘̝̺̻͔̼̯̼͚͙̒͊̏̓͌̉ͫ̚ ̦̮ͩ̇ō͎̲̩̳̮̲͔̣̖ͪ͂r͈͇͉̺͔̙̓ͯg̘̫̘̮̬̥̣͍̜͛͆̀͗̈́̔͊̎̽̉ȃ̱̔ͬͪ̿̂ͅn͖͕̳̮͍̬̱̖͙͈͋ͯ̔ ̫̼̙̦͖̓̈ͭͯ̽̿ͅd͓͉̪̪̤̩̟̩̱̓̀͊̆͐ͫ̋̿͐e̘͓͙͎͍̦̝̞̦̤̙̠͗̾͒̅ͤ̓̔ͪ̅t͖̣̝͚̣̰̮̭̱̾ͯ́̓e͎̯̤̹͍̝̩̱̤̘ͬ̔͆̍ͪ͗̐ͩͧ̚c̗̲͍͖̠̩̭͉̳͔̗̑ͯ̽͛ͨ͌̈́͐͑̈́̅t̘̪̫̭͖̪̯͍̟͕͒̓͂̌̉ͅͅe̜̳̮̤̞͉͉̺̪̦̅ͪ̄͂d͉̫͉̭̳͎͙̗ͯ̃ͫͭ̄̓́́̀ ̝͕̩̰̙̏́͑ͫ͐̚w̳̭̗̺̫̠͙͇̳͎͚̤ͩͥͧ͐ͣ̔͐͆̃́ī̖̘̥̮̥̰̼̼̺͎̲̈́ͬ̍ț̲̼̻̥̺̠̪͊̾̄h̹ͦ͌̈͒͒ͮ́̔̉i͍͖̬̰̼ͨ͋͛̅͗̓̈̒ͧ̽ͅn̞̜̝̘͓̼̣͇͕̺ͩ̐̀̏̍̆͛̇̅̚ͅ ̫̖̰̪̜̪̻̅̀͗ͤ̌̋́̓͂̚t̟̗͕̣͈̋͌̓ͤ̀ͯͩh͚̰̳̜͇̲͙̠͓͕̳͙̾̌͑͐̑ͩ̚e̤͙̗̲̳̻̱͙͒̋͗ͬͨͤͅ ͓̜̝̮̲̮̳̇c̘͗̆͐̊͑ͅr͈̞̗͉͕̜̣̯̳͖̞͇͐͗͐̒̊̊̅̅̆̒̅̒a̱͉̮̩̫͍͈̺̋͒͋̂̎͒̓ͅn͖͕̗̫̝̝̖͇ͦ̈̏̇̒̽̾̎͌ï̝̪̊͌̈ͯ̑ͪ̀͂̉̚a͎͉̙͓̭ͦͬ̆͐ͮ̈̍ͅl̩̳̦͎̼̩̪̺̲̀̎̈́ͫͅ ̖̋c͇̯̗̗̟̓̿̍͗ͧa̰̗̣̘̳̞̅ͮ͗̆͆͊̚s͔̠̘͉̦̜̱̯̫̼͉ͫͭ͋ͨͩ͛ͅi̗̤͕̲̝͇̻̞̰̓̌ͤ̽͗̍̓ͤ̐ͅn̤̭̤̻̼͈͇͊̍g̼̝̝̮̲ͣͧ͒̋̅ͨͅ ̤̦̞͙̫͓͇̿ͯ̒̈́̆ͣ̐̄a̰̓ͫ̆̒̈́͌̔n̘̩̙̹̲̳̭͖̗̝̟̳͊ͮ͂̊ͩͣ̑ͤ̂͂̚d͖̺̘̖̼͚̣̖̜̹ͮ̂ͅͅ ̲̪̙̬͍̮͖̠͓̖̪͇͑ͧͣe̪̳̖̳͚͕̪͇̫͙̗͚̒̏̉̈̂̔̀ͬ̑̃n̠̖̥̪̳̓ͤ͌͐̄̊̒̐͌c̻̺ͧͦ͗̅a͔̟̼͎̺͍͊̔ͬs̫̼̎͛̏ͤͯ̓̑̽ͤͮe͙̠̺̗̤͓͙̫̯̝͛̿ͩ̌̎̐̈̌̈́̏̾ͦd̼̞̬̙̠̮̳͈̣͆͋͆̈́̽̄ͭ͋̆̈́̌ͯ ̫̳̎̆̏ͯ̓͑͛i̩͕̹̓͐̉̐̉̓̆̀̀n̙͙̲̦̳̂͑̊̑͂̚ͅ ̺͕̤̥̺̤͕̮̩̭̠͌̎ͤ̓̒͛ͫ̎̚t͉̞̳ͫ͐̏͐̑̄̒̚h͕̤͚̺̭͚̖̰̲͇̗̅̾̿ė̟͚̫͍̩̩̻̟͉͓̼̪̈́ͤͭ̊̔́ͫͬ̃̌̚ ̮ͪ̃̓ͦͅc̭̼͙ͦͣ̽͋͋͋̄̋ͨ̽͊ỏ̙̠͍͓͎͈͕͙̠͔͑̓ͥ̉̚g̤̖͚̮̒̌ͪͧ̑͊ͩn͔̼͕͇͈̅ͤͥͬ͗͐ͩi̼̲ͮ̍̐̄͑͗̓̾̚t͇̝͙̱̾ͬi̮͙̓͂̋̄̚o̥͈̻̙̳̭͍̙͚̬̓̐̏̉ͥ̉̏ṇ̦͉͇̬̗̟͌ ͉͕̱̲̜̳̜͚̣̠͈͙̽̾ͬc̩̰̲̹̜̪͉͛̄͊e̩̯̩̺̖͊̊ͮ͂ñ͖͔͖̟̩̜ͨ͛ͧt͚̘͍̦̲̻̗̠̉̒̓ͬ̐̈́͊ͤͭͣͧr͚̠̖̠͇̪̲̼ͧͤ͆͑̽ͧ̀e̖̰̲̮̙͚̤̰ͦ̂̌͑ͦ.͓̮͈̟̗̲̮͉̺͆̏̀͋͌̇̃̐ͯ͗̅ ̤͔̣̰͉̪̱̜͔̟̥̂̇̓͊͋ͦ̇ͩͬA̳̝̜͔̮͚̐̉ͭ͂ͫ̃̍̚n̪̩̩̲͓͕̻̞̱̲ͥͦ̆ō̲͔̮̞̳̺ͫͧͅm̗̦̦͑ͦͨͤa̳̤͌̓́͒ͧ͛̅ͧl̲͚̬͉̖͎̺̰̯̻͍̆́̑̊ͩ͆̀̃o͖̜̖̺͉̺̞͚̹̗͖ͧͥͩ̃ṳ̝̜̼͚͉̻͛́ͦͧ̾͊̎̎̃s͖͕̣̽ͣͦ̂ͤ͊ͬ͆ ̤͎̪̫̣̦̹̦̜̦̙̮͆̊̅ͯ̓́o̯̘͚͔͎̹̗͖͙̭ͥͧ͌͊͊ͪ̓͆̓̉ͦ̆r̺̯̘̺͉͙̻̗̹͈̩̾̾g̰̑̀̿ͤ͊ͫ̈́a̩̹̼͓̲̻̻̥̠͉͇͊̽̇ͣ̑ñ̳̙̰̭͚͕͖̹̲̭ ̞̱͉̃ͬ̈͆ͭ̌n̙͔͔̻̪̩̙ͯ̆ͣͪ̐̿͗ͧͅo͉͖̹̳̯̙̟͂̂̌ͤ̌̂͌̂̈̓ͅt͕͎͙̠̘̙̹̻̝̖̗ͬ͑̌̔ͦ͆ ̞̲͇̪̥̜̮̬̬͙̊́̋͂p̩̝̱̭͛͌͆ͅͅr̗̞̱͔̙̦͚͙̫̦͗̑e̞̺͖̘̪̊s̪͇͎̲̲̺̱̤̗͌e̙̅̓̔̿̐̽̎̑̄̀ͯ̃n͙̮̟̫̦̥̼͛͒̎̓̓́̀̂ͫͫ̔̚t͎̝̭͚͎̓͒͊͋͐̑̀͆ ̩͕̼͍̺̭͓͔͙͎̮̣͐ͪ̍̂ͪ̄̏͋i̱͓ͧ̔̃ͥ̎̊n͙̮̰̍̒̍̑̌̉͒ͣ̒ͧ̐̐ ͕̦͙̦͇̘̜̥̗̝ͦ̇̎͋ͯ͆̚ͅc̘͈͈ͧͨ̏͌̐o̙͔͕̠͂̿͒͛͒ͥͯͣ̊ͅn͙͖̬̼̥̟̲͖͙̏͆ͬ̎̾̐s̺̟̗̖̭̰̋ͪ͂͂͛ͭ̾̆̃p̜̮̣̟̪̲̲̩̝̏ͪ̈̈́͐̉̈́̉̚ȅ̤̞̳̝͚̘̋ͬ͛̐͆̐ͯ͌ͅc̜̗̩̰̎̍͆̏̈́ͨi̭̜̮̍̄̈́̈́̌̉̊̎f͕̼̮̭͇̜͖̜ͧ̈͆̾͋̆̚i̪͚͓̦͓̫̜̭̤͎̟̖͂c̝̜̲ͥ͗͐͊̉ͪs̫̲̝͚̺ͧͭ͋̑ͮ̊̔͋ͅ

(Anomalous organ detected within the cranial casing surrounding the cognition centre. Anomalous organ not present in conspecifics)

Just looking at it made everything feel hopeless.

Her mother was dead. But that was insignificant to this distant monstrosity, nothing could be done.

Her dad was barely holding it all together even a year later. But that was insignificant in the face of everything, in the face of everything else going on in the world.

The Endbringers could attack wherever and rip the very heart out of the entire city she lived in. Who would care? Would anyone notice? What could be done? It was like she was looking at a force of nature, except it was a nature from beyond the Earth.

A̼̪͇̎͛̾̆̓̓̚n͈̫̱̊̎ḁ̖͎̬̻̙̬̖̮͒͒̍ͧ̋̂̾̅͐̾l͓̯̽̌͋ͣͩͅy̭̙̳̳͚̪̐̂͋ͮs̻̰͉̄ͭ͒͂̒̇̉̇i̺̘̤̘͎̫̼̹̣̗̰͍ͪ̽ͪ̃̓͋̋̌̚̚̚s̼̎ͧ͋͋̿ͨ;̹̹̮͓̥͐̓̈ͯ͊̆̇̓̚ ͔́̉͋ͩ͒ͫ̉̑̌ͥ͛̚o̞̫̫̣͂̀͌͆̈́̔̃̿ͧ͑ȓ͇̺̹͓̯͔̱͖̝͎̅ͫ͐ͅg͖͚̬͚͇̞̪̤͛̊̇̆̅ͅä͓̭͙̤̘͎͎̙̞̦̈́̄̔͋̽ͅn̻̠̟ͦͧ̊ͯ̍ ̭̠͔ͭͮ̚f̞͚͓̯͎͚̈́ͪa̲͖̬̖̮̰̼͍̐̽̾ͥ͂ͯ̎͆ͧͭ̉̚ͅc͚̞͐̏̎͂ͨ͌̏̅̚i̲̞̟̒͋̇ͤͪ̄ͯͫ͐̏̈́̏l̼̙̣̝̠̤̳̝̰̦̓̚i̥͖̰̼͔̗͎̞̜͍ͯ̅̆̅́̏̔t̙͎͇̖ͦ̄̔̾̓̍ͨ̎̐a̜̹͉͚̻̪̩͖̳͙̅͒̀̽̃ͩ̅̎̓̓t̮̼̰̭̔ͧ̐̈́ͫ̑̈̅̓i͔͍̘ͥ̋͋ͦ̈́̔̽̿̎ͮ̚n̗̮͍̏̉ͤ̏̒͗̎̅̓ͪg͈̠̰̯͇̗͎̰̼͚͇͊̏͋͋̍͂ ͓̹̩̑̂̿͊c̘̬͇̺ͣͬͭͨ͐̓̅̓̿̚o̩̙ͦń̩̃̿͋̓n̯̯̠̰̤̙̞̳̗ͣͬ̐̍̃̍̃͆ͮ̅ͪ̂ẹ̫͙͎̜̳̳͎͖ͨͫ̀͑̆ͅc̼͉̬̤̦͚̩ͪ͗ͫ͗t̘͙͖͈̙̻̗̥̰͎̹̂̚i̯͙̤͇̱̰̞̝̓ͯ̚ô̥̯͋̒͌ͪ͌͌ͭ̍̉̈n͇̟͛̂͑̇̽ ̭͈̟̩̼̥̰͉̳̱̍̌̾ͮ̐ͮ̃̇ͅő͉̜͉͎͔͇͉̒ͦ́ͯ̏̾ͅf͓̮̬͖͐̒͌ ̘̘̘̟̦̥̾͆ͬ̌ͮi͇̋̾ṉ̥̯̗̲̜͈͓ͫͭ̒v̠̺͔̳̝̩͖͙̘ͮ̃ͥ̆ͣ̐͋a̪̰̹̹̜͙̠͖͈̲͋͆̅̓̄̊ͨͬs̞̰̻̘̟̦̰̬̦̣̖̿̾ͪ̂ͯi̻̞̹̯͖͙̝̭͖̖̲͌ͭ̊ͤͩv̩̮̊͗͛͋́̇ͩ̑͛͋e͎̭̦͔͕͔̳̪͍̲ͭͣ̿̀̉̄ͣ̍̚ͅ ̮͓̥̳̗̣͇̰͍̋͂̓ͣ̿̉ô͇̰̼͙̗̫̰̾r̝̜̝̮̮͕̙̰̜͎̯̐g̪̗̭͍̬̟̗̝ͭ͗̑̄ͧ̉͆̚a̰̜͚̬̮̲̬ͦ̌ͯ́̂̐̊̚n͔̳͓̟̼̟͋̈́̌ͤ̾ͣ̈͊ͮ̾i̳͎̙̫͓̥̝͚͈͕ͥ̑̓ͣ͂̆ͫͪͩ͆ṡ̰̹̯̞̬͙͔̬̼̥̗ͣͬ͗ͥm͉̻͔̩͌ͧͧ̈̅

(Analysis; organ facilitating connection of invasive organism)

In the face of utter hopelessness, Taylor allowed herself to stop thinking, to stop resisting Emma’s efforts to pull her along like a lost lamb even as the crystallisation progressed with each footstep they took over the warped alien world around them.

̯͙̭̗̟͔̝̹̰̱̉̏́̅ͤ̍Ṭ̲͉̮̼̞͈̙̦̗̌̃ͫ̓̄̑̽̑ͫ̏̊e͔̞̘̲̗̰̣̠̱̝̭̎͆̎̚ȑ̦̘̰̪̜̠̳̻͖̮̂̔͂̍m̝̱͖͔͕̞͉̱̔͊i̫̖̭͓ͮ̔͊̐̍̐̈̑̅ͣͅn̟̩̜ͨạ̹̮͚̥̦͍̪̥͖̱̘͋̈̎̈́̓ͦͪ͛̽͐̚t͚͓̠̪̯͐͒͑ĩ͉̞͒ͮ̏̍ͭ̅͛̑ͨ̏̽n̯̱̹̻ͪ̃g͇̻̮̠̖̬͖͖̍͛͛̌ ͔̯ͪ̋̓̓̂̑c̥͙̪̰͖̲̓́ͅõ͚̞̞̱͓̩̞̭̣̠͍̩͆̊͒ͦ̊ñ̥̖͔͙̲͉̘͍̯͈̮n̰̹̣̤̫̥͓̱̦̺͍̏e̝̗̰̩̠̦͖̹̩͔̜̐ͤc͈̖͓̉ͬ̒̏͋̾ͯͦ̐t͙͈͈̦̜͎̣̜͍ͪ̏ͭ̆ͪ̂ͦi̞͓̯̰̩͎̲̰̮͔̯̟ͭ̑́̓̐̿͌o͚͙̞̱͔̺̭̩͗̓͒n̟̳͊̅ͩͅ.̱͔̮̭͖͈̳̹̘ͯ͐ͭ̄ͣ͂ͥ͂͋ ̰̳̗̖̻̙̪͇̲͈͐̃Ẽ̜͓̙͙̖͙̱͇̞̮̏̅s͇̿͒͊͌ͨt͉͕̓̐͑ͨ̌͗ͬ̃̎ȧ̹̻͇͈ͪ͐ͅb̲ͩ̍͑̂͆̃ͩͬl̮̖͓̮̻̲̺͈͙̭͚ͯ͛̉ͭ̉ͥͪ̾̾ͤ̏ͬi̤̩͂̒ͫͩͪs̜̿̇̔͑̄̋͋̾̚̚h̖̳͖̦͈̔̀̃̌̑ͫ̌̈̋ͣ̎͊i̭͔͙͙̣͈͔͐ͩͤ̍͒ͪͪ͌͋͗͂̚n̬̞̥͊̓̂ͮ͛ͩͮͯͧg͚̝̦̖̹̩͎͍͎̭̥̘͌ͪͩ̇͒͆ͭͫͨ̏̚ ̠̝̰̦̪ͧ̓̂̂͒̋r̻̯̥̝̟̪̫̺̹͔͎̜̈̔͂̎̈͐͊̎̒́̃e̟͖̝̫̘̤͕̎̆ͦ̔̆p͖͖͉̳̲̿l̠͚͊ͮͣ͌ȧ̰̱̘̮ͥͦ̽̉̄ͥc̟͚̮̽̽ͤͬé̺̱̥̮͚͎̝̬̝̪̪̾m̝͖̜̹͈͍̩̜̲̍̓̋ͯ͊͊ͣ͆ͭe͍͙̲̜͖͙͎̻̼̠̗͔͐̀ͭ̌n̳͕͖̼͑ͨ̎t̯̟̽̉́̑͒ͧ̎͑̄̀̃

(Terminating connection. Establishing replacement)

20th March 2011
  

“Your crystallisation has progressed by only eleven millimetres, Taylor.”

“That’s good.”

The words came out automatically.

It is what she should say. Objectively, it was good news, that the slow, inevitable progression of the fatal condition had only claimed another eleven millimetres of the space just below her knees. Even looking down at her fully crystallised toes, which sparkled and glinted like polished opals, she knew she should be glad about this news.

The doctor was kneeling, examining where the crystal met flesh. With a pair of extra thick gloves, she poked and prodded about the pink, inflamed flesh at the very edge of the crystal. They always used the gloves, even though it had been proven that the crystal doesn’t infect and spread between people.

“You’re a very lucky girl.”

Lucky?

Why did everyone keep using that term? Lucky. Lucky to not be one of the ones who were fully crystallised by the impact, or did not come back with most of their bodies already changed, or lucky that her inevitable death would be a long way in the future?

Lucky that she got away from an S-Class threat?

“I am going to take a chip for the people at the PRT to look at now. Is that okay?” the doctor said, taking out a long, dark metal chisel.

Tinker-tech, apparently, designed to be minimally invasive and without causing unnecessary unpleasant sensation and damage to surrounding crystallised tissue. The first, almost tentative time the hammer struck the end it barely made the instrument scrape along the glossy crystal.

They always promised to send back any results if they found them. Nothing yet.

The first strike was too weak; or perhaps deliberately so that Taylor would know to prepare herself for the next one. Not that the five following attempts to dislodge a piece of the crystalline material were successful, only on the sixth did a small piece come loose, carefully picked up with tweezers and sequestered away in a translucent plastic bag.

The material was so very hard, and the doctor so tentative about hurting her. 

“We’ll get you booked in for another check-up in a month, seeing how your crystallisation is very slow.”

The smile on her lips seemed forced. Or perhaps as a specialist on the matter she had truly adopted the bedside manner of one who attends to doomed individuals?

Wordlessly, Taylor slipped on her socks, hiding away those ten twinkling toes and the foot they were attacked too. She could still move them, which was better than those folk for whom the crystallisation had reached the spine, which led to paralysis slowly creeping up their body. 

“Any work on a cure?”

“I’m sorry---”

‘But there is no cure.’

All the pleasantries were taken care of, the ‘see you soon’ and ‘have a nice day.’

The Oort-Spider they called it.

That’s where they thought it came from, from somewhere far outside the solar system called the Oort Cloud.

The Simurgh came out from behind the moon, so the first thought was that it must be the fourth Endbringer, some new horrific abomination that would strike as part of the rotation of Behemoth, Leviathan and the Simurgh. Yet, the Oort-Spider just sat there, perfectly still unless disturbed. There were enormous fatalities during the first encounter between the PRT and the creature, only the Triumvirate seemed to come out unscathed, and the area had been closed off utterly since that day.

Sitting in class, alone, Taylor could not help but idly wonder whether it noticed her.

That night, as the world was turning to crystal, it had been facing her. If it had eyes, it would have been looking at her, but did it even notice her?

She had wondered about it many times over the year and a half since that night---

“Taylor?”

A hand on her shoulder.

She jolted.

“Emma?”

Her best friend stood beside her, her one remaining hand gripping her bony shoulder. Once, Emma had a good chance at becoming a successful model, but with her left arm up to the elbow crystallised from a brief moment of contact when she fell in the Crystal Valley… well, amputation to save the rest of the arm was the only choice. She rejected the chance to have her legs removed, though, like Taylor. 

For some reason, that had just been... too far. 

She wasn't sure why, it had been like a powerful, nagging itch in her brain that had created such a strong and visceral reaction whenever the idea came up. She couldn't get her legs removed she couldn't she couldn't---

Anyway, at the current rate of progression, they both had a decent amount of time before full crystallisation... right?

Had it not been for Emma, she would have just stood there staring at the S-Class threat until the crystal consumed her.

Taylor looked away from the redhead, focusing on the desk as a familiar guilt rose.

“Where were you, Taylor!?”

Emma was leaning too close again; ever since that day, her friend had been different. Everyone who came out was different. Nobody could look at that thing and be normal again.

"I ate on the roof.”

“Why?! I was worried!”

Emma especially.

“I’m sorry, Emma.” 

She tried to make it sound genuine, to force through the enthusiastic apology that would make it all better. But the redhead’s frown only made it worse. Did Emma resent her? Did her dad resent her? Hell, did Alan and Zoe Barnes resent her, for being the reason Emma was out stargazing that night? They still invited her around, so that was a good sign, right?

Why couldn’t she muster up the enthusiasm to show it? 

To let her emotions really show to them all, rather than just apathetically shrugging and making platitudes. Stuck in a constant mental quagmire in which it was hard to care about anything but going through all the motions of life, struggling to pretend, to put on a false front when people asked.

At least her own crystallisation could be hidden more easily than a lot of the survivors, at least for now.

“I needed a moment,” she forced out, looking at the artificial wood grain on her desk.

“Hmph.” 

The redhead took a seat beside her, sitting with a huff and moodily pushing her chin into the palm of her solitary hand. 

Even when one was irked at the other, they needed one another. When one felt hopeless, the other would stay over, or be there to listen and talk when it became too much, either the survivor’s guilt or the aching pain in their legs. 

Across the room, another girl was looking at them both, dark skinned and with a slight frown. Sophia Hess. They were in the same class, but Taylor had never really noticed the girl much. The few times they had interacted, she always seemed a bit abrasive.

Emma looked at Taylor, and then followed her gaze. For a moment Sophia Hess and Emma stared at one another, until the former looked away and went back to her own business. 

“She was talking earlier to me, all about how people…” Emma paused, frowning a little and distractedly turning her attention back to Taylor. “Something about the rules of the world, how I could be different and be on top and such.”

“What did you say?”

The other girl was silent for a moment.

“Emma?”

“I told her to go to the crystal valley.”

Silence reigned between them again. Not an unpleasant sort, Taylor knew exactly what she meant. How could anybody believe in a notion they were on top when things like the Endbringers and the Oort-Spider existed? 

Taylor set her head down on her arms, glancing at the clock. Only a few minutes until class began again.

There were times when Taylor felt something watching her… or through her. 

The hairs on the back of her neck would stand on end, she would find herself focusing suddenly on things she should not.

Perhaps it was just paranoia.

Perhaps that feeling of sudden, cold analysis that would come when watching cape fights and Endbringer battles on the news was just some detached part of her brain that had developed from the shock and horror of what she went through at the summer camp.

But she would watch the footage, not blinking for minutes at a time to take in as much information, as much data as possible.

She tried to avoid the news that showed such things, only to find her head turning to watch when it came on. When she would check PHO for news on Alexandria, her fingers would move her through to discussions about new capes and powers as if on their own, a cold but morbid interest coming over her. 

She could be up for hours just… absorbing it all.

Taking in as much as possible, despite having no use for it.

It was when she would cut herself on a knife whilst preparing food, only to find the injury gone the next day as if it were never there. Or how within a day of becoming sick it would be gone suddenly with the sure feeling that she would never suffer it again.

Emma didn’t have that.

It was the sensation of not belonging, or running her fingers along her crystallised limbs with familiarity and the sensation of it belonging.

She mentioned it once and promptly was scheduled for a psychiatric evaluation.

That strange, morbid desire to return to the crystal valley and see that thing again... a sensation not unlike standing at the edge of a tall building and wondering what it would be like to just... take another small step...

D͎̣̙̀̀̓ͣ͂͋̃̑ͤ̚a̦̮̦̙̩͕ͤ͛t̬͔͍̼̃̿̊́ͣͤ̔̈͗͋ͧă̪͓͎̙̖̪̗͉̩̺͔̿̅̒̉͋̀̏̉́ͦ̃ ̖̪̩̺̫̦̺͈̱̙̗̞̍̂̈́̍͂ͬͬ͌̓͒̒a̱̘̮̻̤̼̣̩ͯn͈̱̣͚̮ͨͯͤ̌ͤ̅̄̈́̎́̚ȧ̤̠͎̣͚̬͙̬̘͉ͫͦ̈̎͒͆̒̚l͚͎͚͍͓̟͚͗̆̇ͩ̈̾͑y͓̹̤̦̹̳̣̏̆͒s̲̟͇̓͌̍̿̀ͩͥͅi̖̳̮̊ͤͤ̃̑̑s͓͑̓͋̽͊̌͆̂̽͛̋ ̩̯̖̳̻̹̞̳͎̣͚͋̓ͣͭ̎́c̥̋ͥͤͪ͒̐ͨͫ̊̈́͂o̖̻̼̐̓ͮ̚ń̬̼̟͓͔͚̬͚ͤ͐̃͑̍͛̉̓t͙̪͚̗̤͓̝͓̝̎͌i̘̰̹̎ͪ́ͧ̊͂̈́n̙͙̈́̒͑u̙̭̹̗̹̙̻͓̝͚͍͒̀̈́̇̑̈͑͐͑ͦͫ̔à͕͓̗̲̺̉ͤ̔͗̂̈́̃̉ͬ̓t̤ͭ̊̃ͧͯ̂͌̌̀͒͒i̫̔̉̀̄̍͋̂͒̏̇̑̓o̲̫̪̫̼͖̝̓̎̍̀͒̅ͥ̀n̰̱̩̦̉ͭͬ̅ͤ͆ ̱͍̖̞͙͈̖̲̗͎́͂̿͆͌͊̉ͅͅỉ͚̘̬͕͇̱̋ͯ̏̓͌̀ͪ̆͑ͯn̘͖̭̟̬̻̩͈̹̱͐ͨͩ̑̊̍ͤͥ͐́ͅ ̻̞̤̪̤̗̭͚̹̣ͫͧ͋͊̚r͕͚̓͌̂͋ͅẹ̑͗m̞̫͓̲̋̓̄̽͂ͤ̃ͮͅo̱̝̞̐̈́̌ͬ̑̈́t̥͒̀ͤͥ̏̑̒ͤ̾̒e͖̹̩̹̙̥̗͎̦̙̭̺͆ͭ̀ͦ͆͗ ̹̜̪͉͍̦̾ͯ̎ͣ͆̎ͩ̾d̖͈͚̩̫͔̤͔͚͗ͣͭ̉ͥ̓̅̆͋̄ͥͅr͈͔̳̘͖̙̞̯̄̔͂o̮͕͙̳̰̳̗̭̽̓͋̔ͫ̋̅̾n͕͇͎̖̱͔̤͉̆̃̈͋̽̔ͅë̥̳̝̽̾ͤ.̱̠͉̹͈̦̭̻̠̠̉̉̄͐ͥ̊͆̓ͯ̿̇ ̹̙̫̞ͯͅC̖̰̏́̎ā̞̳̼̭̮̰̣͉̗̲̞̈́̅̈́ͫͤ̊̌n̲͚̈́͌̆̐͊͊ͩ̍̐ͅc͚͋̊͋̋ͥͬͧ̊͋ͧ̊̚ḙ̠̜̯̳̫̖̟ͣͫ̄ͨ̂̀̎̇̈́̍ͬl͈͓̫̬̲͕͓͎̯͇͊̂͒̀͂̎̀l͎̯͎̭̄ͧ͐̈́̒̋͐̓a̯͗ͪͧͧ̓̽͆̀̉ͩt̘̜̹̳̠͙͇͉͉̙̹͐ͣ̌̅ͪ͒̉ͤ̂͒̒͊i͔̣͔͍̥̭͎̯͛̉͐̽̒͊o̱͈ͫ̂͌͛̑̾ͬͭ̏̏ͣn̙͔̺̼͉̩̞̒ͮ̑ͭͩ ̙̫̼̳̙͔̖͍͉͊͊̑ͮ̇̂ͅo̜̠̻̝̠ͯ̏ͬ̂ͧ̾̿̇̐ͯͩͣf̲̳ͧ̊̓̎͆̑̄ͮ͐ͦͤ̋ ̤̯͉̣͈̞̱͓̙̜̾̔̏ͣ̿̀͛̈͗̀n͕̜͙͍͉̙͎̥̟͇̜̤͐́͌ͥ̍̉ͨ̊͗e̺̺͖̣͚̹̼͑͗̅̉ͯg̜̳̲͍̦̥͎̮̠͖̒ͨͥ͋ͅͅa͎̻̫͖̰̤͍̦͇ͦ̃̅̌͛̃̉̄͌͒͗ͫť̮̪̫̪̪̙͖̗̗ͧ́̂ͯ́̾̃ͣ̅ͫͬī̤̪̫͙̞̟̲͂̈̇̾̃̃̀͛̚v̮̭̫̥͈͓̻̲̘͈͇̓͑͗̏ĕ̗̦͈͙ͥ͛̇ͯ̽̓ͮͅ ̣͚͂̌́ͥ̍̐ͯ̈ͭ̈́ͤa̭̹̠̘ͪ̽̇ͮͫt̤̙̠̝̠̳̙͗ͥͨ͋̃̈̌ͯt̼ͪ̍̏ͤ͆̊͛͆̓̉̆r̰̥̮͇̤̬̮̞͉̓ỉ̲̞̭̟̱͇͓̮̝͚̲ͮ͆̇̾̿̓͑ͫͯb̝͎͎ͬu̥̮̦̝̺͚̼͈̞͓̭͉͛̊ͭ̅͂̉ͩ̃͌̊̌t̘̥̯̙̗̰̬̠̮͎̘ͨͧ͒́͐̍é͖͕̰͇̬͎͖̯͔̚s̙͉̠̈́̓̎̈́̉͗̒ͩͪͬ.̹͙̣̣̜͙̥̟̠̺̄͐̿ͪ̌͒̓̚̚ ̤̰̺̤̥̖̜̳̟̺̔̄̾͊̃̂R̜̹̝̤̭̻͉̠̮̐̀ͮ͛ͧ̔̌͌ͤo̓̓ͅu͎͈̥̤̥͖̪͉̳̞̖̠̓ͤͨͦ̒̍͋̋͌̿̆ṫ͎͈̝͙̜͇̝͇̗̱͐͛͐í̖̬̹̩̣n̯̙̩̮͍̭͇̂̽̾͒ͅë̗̫̩̘̮̻͇̠͓ͫ̃̇̀ͤ̓̃ͣ ̠͍̪̠̖̞̗̤ͤ̽̏̈́͗̀̽m̩͆̌̾̓̅̈ͪ̓ͬa̩̫ͥ͛́̄̅͒̆ͫ́̑̍ͅi̖̮̠̱̤̠̮̫͔̥̬̦͌̓ͨͥ̈̓̀n͉̦̹̦͖̗̳̙̿͌̓t̜̹͉̙̲͓̹͎̆͛͗̓̃̎̉ê͖̏̉̍ͫͪ͋͌n̠̘͙̹̥̯̫͖͔̾ͪ̄̚a͚ͣ͒ͩ͂̎̐͌ͤͧ̔̆n̮̜̯͌ͭͪ̈͗ͣ̐ͨ̃c͓̤͍̎͗̈́ͩ̀ͦ̉̊ͦ̋ͩ͂e̱͇͇̝̩͓͎̳̼̙̥̩͑͑̾ ̠̺͕̻̤̠̳͙ͬ́̾̾ͬ̅ͧ̓̒ͅo̖̻̟̪͖͕͕̤̩̯̠̞ͧ̒͋̃̿̒̔͛͌̅̅̚f̖͙͈̟̭̠̘͚̦͖̼̽ͤ́ͩ͋̋ ̱̠̙̺̒ͧ̑̽ͧ̑̀̈́̍p̙̦̝̤̦̰͇̳͑͛͊ͦ̒h̗̺͉͕̹̯̺͗̃͋ͭ̌͗̚y̞̭͇͇̜̖͎͉ͪ̂̽̚ŝ̝͔̉ͨ̎̈́ͩͯ̀̔ỉ̟̘̰̹c͔̮̭͉̦̖̞̦͔͚̳͈ͭ͑͋ͥ̎ͫͣ̀́̏̄ͥă͕̦̭͈͕̯͙̥l̩̪̮̣͙̝͙ͮ̓͋̅̉̏͂́̎͗ ̹ͨͪͣ̌͒͗̒ͫͬ͑̇ṡ͈̫͎̘̪͒͒̋̌̎̔̄t͓̞̞͇̪͕ͧ̎͗̆r̬̳̠ͧ̍ͭȗ͖̻ͩ͑ͤ̅͂͋͌ͤ̈͑ͅc̬̫̥̋t̻̝̺ͤ̅́̓u̯͇̱̠͕̺̍̎̌r̠̒͂͊̎̄é̦̏̓ͩ͑ͦ̉̏ͩͮs͈̯͎͚͎̖̲̫̮̬͔̃ͩ̚.̄́̐͊̇̓̍̆͂ͅ ͇͋̈̆̆ͣͯ͗ͨͯ͋C͕͔̘ͧ̿̄̂͂̈́̅ͦ̉ͮ͌o̟̗̓̈́ͤ̆͑͂̾n̺̦̮̹̮̫͂ͩ̍͌̇ͥ̿ͦt̩̻̜͕̖͓̜̟̲̣͉͐̀̀̔ͣ̇ḭ͔̹̼ͤͬͭͥ̽̊͐n̪̺̞͙̤̬̭͈̖̻̯̳̋͛̐̓ͮͤͪ͐͆̌̆ǔ̜̘͙͉͙̼́̃̌̑i̬͎̘̮͎̹͍̣̹͎͂́̐̄͒ǹ̟̈̑ͨͦ͑ͧͣ͗̒g͎͔ͬͮ ̗̻̺̼̼͎͚͎͖̘̝̑ͩͦr̙͓̻̟͍͖͉͓̳͕͖͋̓̀͋̑̑e̲͓̰̖͙̎͒͑̎ͤm̜̬̮̫̳̪̩͙̤̦̥͎͗̐ͤ͛ͣ͐o̖͓̝͚̯ͮ̽ͥ͗̿̔ͧ͌ͨͫͫ̐t͖͖̠̭͖̬̹͋͐ḙ̭͕̈̎͂͐̐́̃ͣͩ̉ͅ ̖̠̠̺͛̔ͮ̉ͬ̔ͦ͒͛̽̅̊o̜̬͙̝̤̠̺͙͍̞̜̪͋ͮ̐͂͛̿͊́b͚̹̞̺̯͎̻̪͙͚̲̊ͤ͂ͅs̟̳͙̄̊̍͐͊̐ͥ͊ͥ͋ͤĕ̠̘͓̞̝͈͓͈̖̙͍͖́̃ͣ̉r̬̣̓́͐̚ṿ̉̃̅̂̐́̓ͧ̈́̾a̰ͪͥͥ̊t̼̩̮̫͍̺̝͈͇ͤ͆ͫ̔̃ͣ́̂̇̏i͉̮̙̣̥̫̳͇̔̓̔ò̟̝̞̟͕̲̱̜̲̈́ͩ̚n̲̦̘ͮ͌ͤͪ͌̑͋ͣ̃ͪ͒͂

(Data analysis continuation in remote drone. Cancellation of negative attributes. Routine maintenance of physical structures. Continuing remote observation)

Chapter Text

Life had a way of finding the worst moment for something to happen.

For Taylor, it was usually when everything had settled into a bland monotony, when she least expected it. Perhaps living in one of the cape hotspots of the continental USA should have left her constantly waiting for the next shoe to drop.

But life still had its ways of surprising her.

She had just been to another doctor's appointment, as she did every fortnight. All sufferers of the crystallisation did, mandated from on high as part of 'Parahuman Phenomena Research' or something like that. The information on the speed of her own crystallisation and samples went... somewhere, added to countless other data points from other sufferers.

Emma always had her appointments on Monday evenings after school, Taylor's were on Thursdays.

Another fortnight, another centimetre and a half of flesh consumed by the parasitic mineral.

Apparently, the spread would slow for a short while when it reached the top of the legs. Then it would return to its former rate of conversion. 

Based on other people who had more progressed forms, at least.

Mind mired in the depths of her dour thoughts, Taylor trudged her way down the street with another chip removed from her shin, and it was only as she reached the halfway point of the block that the sound of gunshots reached her. 

She looked up from where her gaze had been resolutely fixed on the pavement.

Up ahead a gang fight was raging, well, a gang versus the city's heroes.

A familiar pair of red and blue shapes were darting about, Assault and Battery, and men with guns were running away. Bald, and in this part of town... they must be the Empire. 

There was somebody else as well, floating above it all atop a piece of debris. 

Rune.

Taylor followed her first instinct, spinning on her heel to begin running in the opposite direction.

There was no need for her to be here, so she should get as far away as humanly possible. Or just around a corner at the least, out of sight out of mind, right? 

Nothing but trouble could possibly come from being near what was going on.

... But she wanted to look.

No, please.

Not here, not now.

Her feet faltered, it was like her head was full of cotton wool and a thread was pulling on her chin, dragging it to look over her shoulder. She pushed on, trying to get away.

Not far away from a street corner.

A screech of metal and the sound of shouting from behind her. With every sound, it was like her body was slowing down, like it wanted her to stop. Her feet were bringing themselves to a halt.

When she finally stopped, Taylor turned more fully in the direction of the fight, eyes wide.

She needed to see everything, everything possible. She had to.

But she did not want to.

Taylor took a step forward, even as a rational part of her mind told her that this was stupid. 

Beyond stupid---

Her body was fighting, her breaths were both shallow and straining in panic yet also breathing with a controlled, relaxed manner. Standing right in the middle of the sidewalk, Taylor watched with a blank expression caught between blind panic and keen analysis of all there was to take in.

Battery blurred into motion, easily avoiding one of Rune's telekinetic rocks whilst Assault simply smashed through it. She had watched plenty of footage of Battery in particular in action.

P̱̫̙̫̀͑ͬ̊͌̈ͥ̇a͉͆͗̔̐r̻͆̊a̺̫̻̬͕̱̺͓̠ͭd̘̖̪͙͙̓ǐ̼͎̙̮͖͚̹̖̊ͫ̒̌́̒g͔̤̬̯̜̣͖͔̟̹ͪ̓͂̎ͤͯ̐m̻̬̪͉̳̬̹̞͚̭͆͑ͩ͌̅ͨ̈ͭ̆͂̚ ͉̭̳̯̙̬̟̲̳͚̩͂ͤ̈́ͧ̂̐Ì̤ͬ̈ͬ̒̀̏ͯ̓̐n̺͙̰̜̞͓͈̭̯̣̥̑̏ͦ̈̐f͍͕̩̘̻̲̼͍̪͍̂͆ͫ̎͗̈ͤ̎ͦl̤̙̼̝̬̘̦̹͖̥̝ͪ̄͊̑ȃ̯̫̪̠͍͙͖t̮̜̿̂̈ͥ̂ͨ͑i͚̲̖͍̳̝͖̊͂ͧ́̄̄ͧ̽o͚̖̰̳̮̱̔̇ͮ͌ͮ̊̐ͬ̃n͚̩͎̯͈ͥ̓̾͌͑̆:̬̤̝̘̣͇̲͔̠̹͌̄͂ͦ͗ ̮̻̯̰̬̥̞̯̑ͅË̟̳̯̪͕̦̥̠̤̠́̈̅n̬̠͍̻̆̐ͣͩ̈̍̉̚ē͓̲͖̬̦ͅr͉͚͓͈͙͔̩̹̫̈ͭͅͅg̩̭̩̯̞̬̦̞̱͙͛̒̄̇ͅy̞̜͇̱̰̌̉͋̐̉̇̐̑͗ ̰̭̰̯̫̼̥̻̼ͮͧͤ͒͊ͮ̋̓̍ͯ͂s͖͔̥̻̣͇̥̰͙̩͎͂t͍͔̰̟̟͒̆͊o͖̦̘̰̰̬͕̱̭͈̩̾ͦ̌ͬ̃ͮͣ́ͫ̒r͈̮̭͖̍a̪̥̺͙ͦ͊ͨg̳̬̩͈̦̱̋̏͒̿ͪͦͥ̂̽̓e̮͉͍̯̖̻̰̫̹̥̜ͯ̈̆̒̾̌͆́ ̝̼̠̦̥̠͕͖̫͈͕̀̃a̰̼̻̬̯̣̣͚̤̓̓̃͋͌̔̇̌̑̚n̯̱̲̥̿͒̈́d̙̱͈̟͓̜̲̋̽ ̟̩͍̩̘̦̻̳̙̳͖̈́̃r̳̰͎̅ͤ̓ͣ͋̈̈̚é͔̣̱̹͖̻̤͔̬̥͊̆l̥̱͉͙̳̞͍̞̺͇̟͊̐e̪͕̜̳̯̹̙̮ͧ̚a̤͍͔̞̺̳͊s͈͍̊̎͆͒̊ͩ̽̃͗é̻̞̥͌ ͔͍̤́ͩ̾̊ͩͅf͙͍̰̻̠̥͓̄̀̉ͭ͊ͅo͇̦̳̙̞̠͎̔̏ͧ̌͐̓r̼̻̣͔̰̖̹̪̎̽ͥ̅ͅ ̖̘̣͍̹̠̘͂s͉̦͚ͭe͔̐̽ͩ̈́ͥ͌͊̚l͔͕̘͉̹̂̋f͎̞̥̱̙͉͓͎ͮ̂͛͛-̦͉̩̼̻̎̈́l̝͚̬̺ͫͪ̑͗̓̋ͮͭ̽̈ͅî͎̪͕͇̺m͍̩̭͉̻̳̦̑͑͊̈́̏̏ī̝̬̮̺͉̣͉̣͆̑ͮt̹̣͓̳̜͈̹̠͑̎ͯ̒͋͛ͩͪ̔̂̋ͅe͓̩̳̩̦͔̪͙̙̳̟͒͋̂͌ͨͧ̇͒d͇͙͕ͩͫ ͚̮̟̘̫̣̠̣͈̝̂ͧ͊̈̓̊̄ͮͦ̎̚a͖̭̠͚̬̬͓̼̯̱͌ͬ̈́̈ͧu̗̱̰̳̻̙͓̣̻ͫͤ͐͊̇ͭͥͮg͕ͦ͛ͬ͛͑ͬ́m̝̜̝̖͑̉ͩ̏̊ͭ͆e̦̹̱ͣ̈̃̂͗n͕͔͚͕̠̤̦̄ͤ͌̓̚t̜̠͓̝̺̱̉̋̿́̏ä̠͙͔͙͇̱̙͍͇̻́ͨͅt̟̤̿ͮ̈͆ͣ̈́͂̉̚i̪̜̙̥ͯ̑̎ͩͩ͊̚̚o͒ͅn͔̼͉͓͕̥̣̘̺̜̎ͮ̆̅̇̑.̥̝̱͔̗͍͓͖̦ͭ̂̊̅̈̔̆̚ ̼͉̗͍͚̥͇̣̫̻̹͗͂͑̿E̲͑ͩ̃̐ͥͭ̋ľ̜͚̦̼͈̹ͦ̚e̦̗̤̖̒̌͑̒̈́ͯc̥̩̣͕͇͚ͥ̌̽̆̓ͮt͍̮̼̪̀r̤̻͇͎̪̺̪̬̥̼͓̓ͮ͊̇̃ͬ̌o̩̹͎̗̗͑͌͒̂̐̌m̱͚̝͚̤̹̠̗̤̈́̍͗̈́a̭̰̠̲̤͒ͥͤg̳̰̯̺̗͚͍̪͕̞͈͊̊ͥ̇͋ͮ̎n͔̯͇̰̞͔̣̰͗̾̃̎ͪͅͅe̳̺̯̠̤͕̪̹͕̊ͥ͆̚t͇̰̖̞̘͎̗̮͉ͨĩ͈͈̖̳̖̮̮̻͓ͫ̋̄ͩ̓̊c̜̥̖̥̺̣̲̲̞̈́̽͌̏ͩ ̱̗̝̼̰̥̗̲̔̔ͦ̃m̥̪̯̙̹͖̺̦͕̬̑̒̒̑̄̄͒a̩̥͍ͫ͌̍̾̅̏͑̑̍̚n͖̲͍ͧi͖̖͖͍̥̲̮̦̩̳͆̊̀̂͊ͧ͆͊̒́p͔̜̳͑̄͛ͧu̳̥̘̓ͪ̓ͧͮ̈́ͥl͎͓̦͇͖̠̮̬͈ͥä͔͈͈͈̬̤̖̊̿ͨt̻ͩ̈́̔ͭͥ̇̐̇͂͒i͎͙̰̦͇̒̐ͮ̄̂̋̅o̱̤̳̰̼̮̦̦ͦ̽ͬͬn̗̫̲̻̥ͨ́̄͒ͧ

(Energy storage and release for self-limited augmentation. Electromagnetic manipulation?)

Rune, standing atop a large piece of asphalt and vaguely gesturing, launching a pair of bollards and other pieces of minor municipal objects at the two heroes.

P̣̻̼̝̘̼̗̙͚̹̑a̖͚̥̖̥̰ͪ͒ͥ̊ͥͧ̿ͦ̿̾̔r̤̄a̱ͧ̈ͥ͂͛d̤͕͎̙̜͈̳̞̮̺͛ͦ̅̈͛̌̐̒̾̄ͤͅi̟̞ͦ͆͌̈̑ͧ̐͊̏́ǵ͍͕̭͓̥̗̻͂̾̂̿̓͗̌̔̑ͅm̤̦̰̮̠̟̣̍͂ͩ̈́ͧͥ̎͂͑ ̯̹̲͍ͬ̈͊̔̿ͫ̈I̗̻̦̤̠̗̞̐̇ͪ̏͐͆̂̋ͮn͙̪̭͔̙͐̇̍͊ͣͮ͗ͦ̔f̹̪̲̪͙͉̩̣̤͕̩̔͆l̙͉͒͊̅ͣͧ͋ͪͣa̪̲̝͋͊͊ͣ̎t̞̲̫̜͎͖͔͕͎̩͔ͪͩ̆ͭͨ͒̚i̬̤̟̼͗͛͒͆ͩ̓ͮo̜̯̪͉͉͕̟̭̟̯̼̾̂̈̋̆ͪ̓̔͑͐̚n̦̤͍͈̥̼ͪ͊̌͋̿͐:̖̠̥̠̹͖͎͕͚͒ͫ̋͊ ̺̈͌ͫ͋͌T̞̥̘̱̭̻͓̬̳̣͓̓̂͂͌͐ͯ̇͑̈e̦̭̪̤̬̯̫ͯ͑̎l̟̭͉̩̯̈̾͊ͥ̀̈ͪͭ̐̈́̌e̳̮̼̳ͦ̂ͫͮͧͧͨͤ̒k̪̻̻̮̇́ͅͅī͈̳̗̼̦̠̮n̰̭̭͈͇ͣ̅ͮ̀e̹̝͚͈͉̳̟̱͚̱̠̅̓̊͋̑ͣ̍̆̚s̰̮͇̩̳̖̮͍͂̉ͮͯ̾̑i̥̟͇͚̩̰ͣ̓͊̌̃ͦͯs̞͇̪̏̔ͅ ̬̝̺̘̪̐̿̋̔͆ͩ͛l̲ͥͭ̐̐͐̑ͨͭĭ͉m͉͙̮̳̝̗͛̌̾̚i͎̪̓̒t̰̜̼ͣ̂ͅẽ̲͙͚̰̙͑d̦͖̠͍̱̭́͋ͬ́ͥ̂ͦ̐ ̣̹͎̗̝̮̭̇ͭt̪̱͉͈̼̣ͪͦ̎̂ͅo͎̍̿̓ͯͪ ͉͖̟̱̪̟̹͉̼ͪ̅ͤͣͧ̌ͭ̓ͦ̌̑i̼̓̍̾̊ͩ̾̈̃̆n̯̤͈̖̹̰͖͗ͮͬ̂ͮ̏ͮͪỏ̰̘̳̥͍͉̫ͬ̎͐̋̒ͬ͆ͪ͆ͭr̬͓̩̭̩̬̬̟̤̰̄̽̂͋̑̌ͨͦ̆͒g̜̙͇̤̺̗̻̀̈́ͅa̘̗̝͕͛̀ͫ̚n̟͈̜͙̭ͣ̌͆͒̊̈̓̂̔i̖̗͖̲͔͉̞̩̯͈͓͊͆̒ͯ͗ͧ̃̊ͫc̞̄̏ ̟̝͊̇o̳̔ͤͩb̦̜̮̮̝͉̞͑ͩͅĵ̱̺̲̘͍͙̱̖̥̰ē͔͖̻̘̘̄ͯ̎̎ͧ͊̆̌̉c͍̠̳ͩ͊̇ͭ̆̒̿ͧ̿t̪͙͓̟͎̲̹̺͎͐s̬͔ͪ̊̿͂ ̼̰͍̲͇̃͌̈́͌s̥̤̣̗̱̩̬̠̈́̔̋ͣ̒̓̑h̻̮̟̘̭̮͙̭̙̥̏ͥȇ̼̹̯̩̪ͨ̋͋̀ͤ̊̆ ̩̞͈̠̓ͯ͂ͥ͑̓h̩͕̱͖ͣ̊̏ͤ̄̓̏̒̽a̼͌͋ͭs͓̠̯̬̮̟ͥ ͇̗̠̪̺̲̍͑̋ͮ͆̄̆̃͆̇ͯm̤̖͖̖ͮ̀ͭ̊͌̓ͫͥ̐ȁ̩͎̰̝̺̫̣͖̒d͈̭̞̺̳ͦ͗͛̍̾͌̆̀ͥḙ̺͇̠̙̺͉͍̻͑ͤ̉ͥ ̯̘̜͕̞͓̘̟̲͗ͮ͂̂ͫ̾c̮̮̺̲̺̰ͫͨ͋ͩ̃̌ͪ̔̄̎o̳̼̩͈̫̞̔̈́͊ͨ̄ͤ͗̈́̍ͪͅn̼͒̈̀̽ͪ̓̿͒̐ͥt͎̭̙̄ͣ͋͗ͨa̩̩̠̮̦ͤc͖̩̮̦̫̦̥ͫ̒͌ͣ͆ͮ̄t̩̗̍̓̃ ̥̮̖ͦ͋̌̉̉w̰̥͇̲̄ͭ̓̈́̅ͬ̑̅ͪͮ͛i̼͇͓̱̼͓ͤ̔t̙͕͙͙͆̽̒ͧ̅̎ͩ͊ĥ̞̮̣̻̟̂̃̋ͨ̍̂̐̏̚ ̞ͬ̒

(Telekinesis limited to inorganic objects she has made contact with)

Taylor's brain was racing to try and provide explanations, even as her internal panic only rose. This was just like those other times, sitting at her computer for hours learning all she could about particular capes.

Taking in everything possible.

Rune was unable to hit the pair of speedsters, but they could not get into her range either. Assault had to protect Battery whenever her charge ran out and to give the other an opportunity to regain it.

They made for a good team, both worked together in a manner practised and born from experience. The way one would take the lead only for the other to cover their back, in constant communication with one another. It was fascinating to watch, like art---

Something smashed into her leg. 

Taylor felt the sensation, the force of something colliding with the limb, a 'crunch' that resonated all the way up her body.

It should hurt....

Something like that should really hurt, shouldn't it? The strange hypnotic spell over her was broken and she looked down.

Something was poking out of her jeans, a piece of concrete, a shard that had pierced straight through the fabric and then into her leg.

... Oh...

Unnoticed by her, the fight resumed and came to a close, Rune fleeing and the other members of the Empire doing the same.

Taylor was too busy staring at the piece of literal stone poking out of her body to really take notice of her surroundings, her focus and perception narrowing in on the strange object. Without the overwhelming need to watch the Heroes and Villain fight, a strange sensation had taken hold instead, but she wasn't quite sure what it was...

Oh, wait. 

Panic. 

It was panic.

"Miss, are you okay?"

It was Battery, approaching her quickly.

"No, I mean, I'm fine," Taylor fumbled.

Oh man, a hero was noticing her, and here she was on the verge of a panic attack! People were taking notice as well, plenty of those who had hidden away at the first sign of a cape fight were poking their heads out of windows or glancing towards them.

Then, Battery looked down at Taylor's leg and the piece of concrete sticking out of it.

"Jesus, alright, you're not okay, we need to get you seen to, c'mon."

"No, I-I want to go home." 

And now she sounded like a hysterical child.

"Please miss, you need to be checked over, you were very close to the fight, and you're hurt." 

The blue clad hero was trying to calm her down, was she wondering just what happened to her? Did she think that Taylor must have frozen with panic like a rabbit or deer caught in the proverbial headlights of a car?

"Somebody will be here soon, c'mon, breathe deep, do you want to sit down? Being close to something like this is always rough."

It was not being close to the fight, it was the lack of control. 

"I-I'm not hurt."

"I saw you get hit, it's okay, it's probably the adrenaline stopping you from feeling it yet," Battery explained slowly even as she looked Taylor up and down. "You don't seem to be bleeding so it can't have gone too deep, but something might have chipped or fractured, even if it's not a clean break. Here," Battery coaxed her over to sit down and, with none too gentle pressure, to lean and breathe more deeply. 

In pretty much any other circumstance, Taylor would be happy to comply.

Assault and Battery, hometown heroes and practically household names in Brockton Bay?

Right now, she couldn't help but feel that she was in their way.

It was just a glancing blow to her leg, and it was not like she could feel pain there.

As Battery spoke to Taylor, Assault was calling in to report.

"---only one civilian hurt, froze up in fear and got hit by some debris, can we get somebody to look at her?" A momentary pause. "Okay, if she is near then if we can have her dropped off on the way, that would be appreciated."

A minute later somebody landed not far away and in a manner much practised. In their arms was another figure, one recognisable not just in Brockton Bay but the entire world.

A moment later---

"Do I have permission to heal you?"

Taylor looked up to see the face of Amy Dallon, Panacea.

"I am not hurt."

The healer looked unimpressed by the statement, glancing towards the two Protectorate Heroes with an 'are you serious?' expression. 

"Let's see your leg then miss, seeing as that's where the concrete hit." 

The comment from Battery had Taylor flushing. Why did nobody seem to believe her!

Oh... wait... crystallisation was really rare... just because it dominated and ruined her life didn't mean other people knew---

Taylor lifted the trouser leg, revealing the opalescent material underneath. Long jagged cracks ran through her leg, radiating outwards from the piece of concrete that had impacted the side, and was still lodged in there.

Taylor heard the surprise gasp from Battery.

"..."

"Like I said, I'm not hurt." Her protest came out a lot weaker now.

"Well, I cannot heal crystal, but if nothing else you need that concrete out. Assault, can you pull it?"

"Won't I get infected?"

That comment had Taylor hang her head.

"I'm not infectious... nobody with crystallisation is." It was a comment that she had been forced to make so many times before; 'it's okay, touching me won't make you crystallise as well.' So many people had acted as if she were some sort of leper who would bring doom and pestilence upon them and their family in thos early days.

"Right." 

Was Assault saying that with more cheer than he felt?

Reaching down, the hero pulled out the piece of concrete with ease, leaving an inch-deep crater in her leg. Even as she watched some of the finer hairline cracks radiating out from the injury began to seal up, it was slow-going, but the self-repairing properties of the crystal were known.

It was practically its own organism.

"It will heal, it's okay, and it doesn't hurt." 

Why was she the one trying to give comfort to the Heroes?

"Guess I am not needed here, then," Panacea said. Was she irritated at having been called out when she could be saving other lives? Taylor couldn't tell, instead she focused on pulling down the hem of her trouser, hiding away the damaged limb and the hateful opalescent infection. 

Panacea gave her a consoling pat on the hand and paused, frowning.

"I-I'll just... get going," Taylor announced, pushing herself up. Panacea retracted her hand, looking at her neutrally as she did so. 

Taylor could not hurry away fast enough. 

"She's a cape."

A look between the blue and red Protectorate Heroes, taken by surprise at the healer’s blunt statement. Panacea watched the strange girl left, disappearing down the street.

"Are you not supposed to reveal that, Amy?" Glory Girl asked, brows furrowing.

"She has Oort-Spider Crystallisation, and I've never seen fractures heal that quickly in one."

"And?"

Amy Dallon glanced between her sister and the two PRT heroes.

"People with crystallisation do not trigger. Even if they have a Corona Pollentia it just goes... wrong... and already triggered capes react strangely, and they mutate and... well, go out of control. So she's some sort of strange abnormality," Panacea explained. "She has to be reported, like, it's a legal requirement. Anything to do with the crystal is."

Assault glanced at Battery.

"Did you get her name?"

The long silence said enough

"Console, we have an issue."

Chapter Text

Homework was tedious.

Calculating the square root of a number was easy, doing it ten times to prove that the first was not a fluke was frankly unnecessary.

Physics came far more easily to Taylor than most, what had once been a subject of niche interest at best to her had grown steadily into her favourite, that and Parahuman Studies. For the last year or so, school had been an escape, a distraction from thoughts about her past, future and what little it might bring. 

Better to live in the everyday rather than let the existential worries gnaw away at her.

School also meant more time with Emma as well, her only real friend... especially now that Emma didn't seem to like coming over to her home much any more, it was usually she who went over to the Barnes house instead.

The redhead said it was all the images of stars and galaxies that adorned Taylor's room, and which was the primary decoration of the room. Beside her bed was a large, blown up image of the Wolf-Rayet Star WR-124, her ceiling was decorated with little sticky-back glow in the dark stars arranged in the form of constellations. When she had assembled all the ones visible in the Northern Hemisphere, she created lines between them to make them clearer.

After that, she added more and more and more. Her room was a near accurate map of the heavens, the little project to decorate the room had been a distraction in dark moments. 

It was difficult to see the stars in Brockton Bay after all. 

Taylor thought the cosmos was beautiful, but Emma did not think the same. Ever since the Oort-Spider landed and ruined their lives, her best friend had developed increasingly severe astrophobia, like a number of other sufferers of the Crystallisation. 

A few others also were scared of the stars and the night sky... she really should check in with Daniel and Gabrielle some time soon---

"Letter, Taylor!"

The shout broke Taylor from her focus, she looked up from her homework towards the door of her room.

A letter?

Oh. 

Probably the results from her recent doctor's visit, no doubt the usual 'we are writing to confirm that your condition continues to progress.' A waste of paper and plastic that she nevertheless continued to receive despite suggesting that it had no point. 

By the time she had got downstairs to investigate the offending envelope her father had already left the room. She could hear him, though, and for a moment she stood there and listened in as he did so.

She knew the routine by now; he would go into the sitting room first and look out the window, glancing to see what was going on outside but without any real passion. Then he would sit down to look over various bits of paper from the Dockworkers Association, he would grow stressed and perhaps break out a beer about halfway through and somehow come away from it all with a renewed determination to do right by the Association whilst utterly ignoring his own needs.

How could she help break him out of his funk?

Ever since her mother died it had been like this, this strange sort of tense companionship between the two of them.

Taylor looked away from the direction of the sitting room, instead moving to the table, where a solitary letter sat in its own pile.

The logo on it was not the normal rod of Asclepius, instead it was a shield with the letters PRT on it.

Huh?

Taking it up, Taylor looked over the thin envelope before opening it, retrieving the letter inside and reading it over The paper was quite fancy, it was that nice, slightly thicker than average feel that she associated with quality.

Dear Miss Hebert,

During a recent incident involving members of the Brockton Bay PRT and Protectorate members, you were recorded as a casualty of the conflict and having received healing from Panacea during the follow-up.  Due to the nature of your condition, the PRT must request that you make yourself available for a brief meeting at Brockton Bay PRT Headquarters, Lord Street, to discuss this matter.

Please organise an appointment by calling the number at the head of this letter.

Thank you for your time.

The Office of Agent Coleson, PRT ENE

There must have been some confusion, or a misunderstanding perhaps? Surely the PRT had Panacea attempt to heal people like her before? During the first and only attempt by the Protectorate to combat the Oort-Spider, the casualties had been immense, proportionally even higher than against Behemoth or the Slaughterhouse Nine. The only saving grace was the fact it did not move from its position, it did not attack cities. 

'Due to the nature of your condition.'

What did that even mean? Oh, she knew exactly objectively, but what did that matter?

Assault pulled a piece of concrete from her leg, and it had taken a day for the damage to heal up. All Taylor did was stand there like an idiot when she should have been high-tailing it as quickly as she could, and she got injured as a result of... of...

Taylor swallowed thickly.

She did not like to think about the strange lack of control she experienced, the inability to look away or even move somewhere safer. Ah, it was... just part of her interest in Parahumans, just part of that.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Taylor?" He sounded tired.

"I need to go to the PRT soon."

A pause.

"Why?"

"I... It’s about what happened the other day, apparently they want to ask me a few questions, it's something to do with my condition."

Silence.

Her father did not like to be reminded of her disease, it was part of the reason why Taylor always wore trousers, to avoid reminding him of the fact she was sick. When she explained what occurred the previous day, he did not even want to see her injury to check that she was okay, he just asked to make sure she was okay and left it there.

"Alright, do you need me to drop you off?"

"You need to come in with me, I need an adult, it seems."

"Okay, when?"

"I need to schedule an appointment," Taylor replied. "Are you free the rest of today and tomorrow?"

He was. Taylor made the call and organised it. The man on the other side sounded dead inside, the exchange was brief. 

Eleven the next day.

Well, if nothing else, it would break up her father's routine from its normal drudgery. Now she just had to try and think of a way to pull him out of it permanently.

The PRT Headquarters was a location that both did, and did not, inspire confidence in Taylor. 

The glass frontage was pretty... were it not for the fact that each window was barred. It looked to be a cross between a governmental building and a fortress, implying that it was a safe place to be... but also that there was a drastically increased chance of something going very wrong here. In a city with literal superpowered Nazi's and the rage Dragon, being near a place that required such levels of protection rather implied that she was at risk just standing outside it.

"Ready, Taylor?" her father asked from beside her. He looked at the front of the building in much the same way she did.

"Yeah... hopefully it will be pretty quick."

Stepping through into the lobby, Taylor glanced around.

She had been here before when she was younger, when she was just an innocent, wide-eyed child who hoped to see a hero and buy any Alexandria themed merchandise from the gift shop. She remembered them selling all sorts of things, she still had a Miss Militia holofoil trading card somewhere in her room, probably in one of the desk drawers. Maybe later she could take a look around the shop and see if there was anything she wanted?

... Wait, were those Armsmaster themed underwear?

Taylor resolutely decided not to think about that.

Approaching the desks at the front of the lobby, the two of them waited patiently for the man behind the desk to notice her. When he did, she gave something of a lame wave.

"Hello... um, I was asked to come and speak with you guys, I called and was told to come in at eleven."

Taylor raised the letter that had been sent as if in proof of her claim. The man simply took it, looked it over, and then began consulting the monitor. 

"Okay, you are in with Agent Coleson in interview room three. Are you Miss Hebert's parent or guardian, sir?"

"Father, yes."

"Alright, take the door on the left, and then it will be on the right two doors down. If you need the bathroom, it's on the right before you get there," rapid-fire typing ensued. "I'll let him know you are here."

"Um, thanks."

Not imposing at all.

The two of them made their way to the appointed room, a lonely, windowless cube of white and blue walls with overly bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There was a table with cheap, glossy black chairs either side, and after a few seconds, Taylor took a seat on one of them. A clock was ticking loudly from its position above the door, the second hand jerking from tick to tock, and for a few moments she watched it, then focused on the table.

Putting one leg under the other, Taylor drummed her fingers against it, jittery. 

Her father had remained standing a few seconds longer, before making himself comfortable as well, sitting with posture more relaxed but face serious. This was his sort of meeting, wasn't it? For years, he had been sitting in on things like this, conversations about securing funding, interviews and even speaking with the mayor. Despite the distance between them in recent years, he knew what he was doing. 

She hoped so, at least.

How long would this take? Was she in some sort of trouble? It was stupid for her to just stand there during the cape fight, but she couldn't stop herself, was this some sort of psych evaluation, to determine if she had some sort of issue that would cause her to put herself at risk?

Some people were mad and actively wanted to get close to cape fights, is that what the PRT thought that she was?

After some time, the door opened and Taylor jerked to attention. 

The man who entered was tall with sharp blue eyes, his suit was crisp and the ID hanging from his neck bounced off his chest with each step. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"Hello, I am Agent Coleson. You are Mr and Miss Hebert, I presume?"

"Yes."

"Pleasure to meet you both." He extended a hand with a number of small, healed scars visible on its back. Awkwardly Taylor shook it a little limply, her father had a far more natural response and took it to shake easily.

"Thank you for calling so promptly, I hate having to send reminders out when they ignore the first letter," Coleson said as he took a seat and set down a thin wad of papers on the table, the top page facing him. 

"O-Oh, sorry, I mean, that's good."

Oh, god, she was fumbling her words.

"Now, let me say that you are not in any form of trouble, this is purely a routine conversation that the PRT sometimes performs with people who have been close to cape fights and have been noted down as casualties. Anything discussed in this room is confidential, and any referenced documents have been made available to myself purely as part of this meeting."

"Yes sir."

"We identified you by comparing CCTV footage from the scene with records we had to hand, so firstly please would you confirm that you are Taylor Anne Hebert, and that you were present on the 17th during a skirmish between members of the Protectorate and the Empire Eighty-Eight."

"Yes. I mean, yes to both."

A note was made on the paper, a box filled out swiftly with her name.

"Do you mind if I see that document briefly?"

"If you would like to, Mr. Hebert," Coleson passed it over easily enough. "It is a standard PRT post-casualty incident recording form with an attached section for further questions at the back, which has had to be altered with some questions regarding your daughter's condition. I am afraid that that part is non-standard."

"If it is non-standard, why is it included?"

"There are not many people with Oort-Spider Crystallisation in the world, Mr. Hebert, and very few of them will be asked the questions the PRT would like to ask your daughter."

Her father did not look happy, but nodded, and Coleson continued.

"Unlike most civilians, you did not run when the fight broke out, miss Hebert. This was put down as a freeze response in the official report by Battery because you appeared to suffer a minor panic attack when approached afterwards. Is that quite correct?"

"Y-Yes, I just... couldn't move and afterwards I panicked, yes."

To his credit, the man did not look surprised, there was no judgment or severe statement of 'well that was stupid, you should have cleared the site as soon as possible' that she had been expecting. 

Instead, like any good bureaucrat, he simply ploughed on to the next question;

"During this period, Battery noticed that you had been injured, with Panacea arriving soon after, having been already en route to the city hospital. At which point, Assault was required to remove a piece of debris from your leg, correct?"

A nod, another note made and a box ticked.

"According to your medical records, you contracted Oort-Spider Crystallisation after an encounter with the Oort-Spider when it landed in the White Mountain National Park to the west of Brockton Bay. Since then, the disease has had a standard but abnormally slow progression." Taylor swallowed a lump in her throat at the clinical description, her father had looked away. "The debris removed from your leg was embedded in crystallised tissue, yes?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"And may I ask what the condition of your leg is now?"

"It's... fine."

"Fine?" Coleson had set his pen down and leant forward, watching her intently. He seemed far more interested now, unlike the previous questions, in which he was simply going through the motions.

"Is this question quite necessary?"

"I am afraid it is, forgive me, Mr. Hebert."

She rubbed her arm. 

"Yeah, all normal, um... healed up."

"Back to normal, then?"

"Yes. No more cracks and the, err, the hole left by the concrete has filled in as well," Taylor fumbled. 

Coleson nodded.

"On average, sufferers of Oort-Spider Crystallisation disease see infection progress in terms of centimetres or even inches a fortnight, you have been flagged as anomalous in your medical reports, a factor that was put down as an outlier until recently."

A pregnant pause followed as the man stared at her, waiting for her to ask. Was this standard practice in an interview? He had access to all her records, what was even going on here?

Taylor bit her lip.

"Until recently?" It was her father who asked the question.

"As part of her capacity as a healer, Panacea can rapidly check the health of individuals, and during her interaction with you, she noticed that you have an active Corona Pollentia with Gemma." Taylor's heart jumped into her throat as Coleson continued. "In case you didn't know, the Gemma is the organ that facilitates Parahuman abilities."

One could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

"But I'm not a Parahuman."

The agent's smile was patient.

"According to Panacea, you are. If I may, please could you think back to any incident within the past few years during which you experienced a traumatic event and possibly blacked out?" he asked, tone going from professional to something softer.

Taylor glanced away.

"Now that one I really feel was not necessary," her father said, in a manner that was less a command than a demand.

"Unfortunately, such moments are usually traumatic, but can provide insight into the nature of a person's powers, Mr. Hebert."

"... Well, when the Spider crashed my friend and I were close to it, I saw it... I don't really know, I don't remember it well, but I remember blacking out. My friend carried me to safety and I woke up later." 

It was all still a blur, almost a year and a half. 

Coleson was writing something, and when Taylor had finished speaking, he continued to do so for a minute afterwards. Not that she minded, it gave her the opportunity to think. Her, a Parahuman? Impossible. She didn't have any powers, she could not fire lasers or fly or anything like that, there was nothing interesting about her apart from her history as an Oort-Spider survivor...

"And you have never displayed any powers before?"

"Not that I can think of."

"No unusual circumstances occurring with or around you?" he looked between the two of them.

"No." Her father's response was immediate.

Well. 

The strange dissociative periods when she would become hyper-focused on Parahuman related matters, the cold and clinical analysis with words coming to mind. The times when she would get hurt and then the injuries would seem to just get better...

"Miss Hebert?"

"Ah, sorry," she shook her head, as if to physically dispel the thoughts. Coleson was staring at her unblinkingly, the room felt a lot more stifling all of a sudden. "Well, a few times I've been hurt, but then I get better quickly, and I only seem to get colds for about a day or so before I get better," she said lamely.

"I see." Another note. "Would you consent to power testing so that we can confirm whether you have powers, Miss Hebert?"

"Um..." she looked to her side, to her father. The man's face was blank, his eyes were sharp, but she could see that his mind was racing. What was he wondering about? Then, he looked at her.

"It's up to you, Taylor."

Now that it had been put before her.

"Okay... I would like to know, so yes please."

What was this faintly hopeful little flicker she felt?

Chapter Text

The power testing was weird. 

Especially when she could not simply display a power openly or give the people organising the tests something to work with.

Some of it was unpleasant as well, wearing the blank mask had her breath tickling her face and her skin all humid and sticky.

A hammer strike against the leg had her gritting her teeth, especially when it took four attempts to put a dent in the crystal, let alone the cracks that they were looking for. She sat awkwardly in the brief period of respite as they all crowded around to observe the way it healed up. It caused a lot of excitement for some reason, as did when, with great care, a doctor asked to cut her forearm to observe her healing there as well.

Her father really did not like that part, acerbically asking whether the scalpel was necessary and glowering down the offending doctor. In the end, a small cut was allowed... on sufferance.

It closed up very quickly.

... Was it really that unusual?

How fast were people meant to heal from injuries? She got hurt a few times as a kid, but she was young. She had never experienced anything too major in terms of injuries, apart from the car crash that claimed her mother's life, and even then, she came out mostly unscathed. But that was a car crash, the little nicks and cuts of everyday life were nothing like that.

Even if the crystal was repairing itself faster than normal and her arm stopped bleeding faster, surely that didn't actually mean much, right?

The physical tests for strength and endurance proved little as well, Taylor was a skinny girl who, whilst not unfit, was not exactly track team material. 

Was she disappointing the testing team?

Their other methods were odd, though...

"If you do not mind, we would like to observe what happens when parahumans use their powers on you?" was the latest request from one of the technicians, looking over a monitor in which they were inputting the proceeds of the tests.

"If you are about to suggest Miss Militia, then this process is over," her father said.

That earned some amused laughter from the team.

"No, no, don't worry, we are not bringing out the big guns." 

That pun got a tap to the head with a clipboard from his superior, even as she smiled bemusedly. 

When the door opened to admit whoever it was who would be helping, Taylor turned to see. Maybe Vista? She had always admired the youngest Ward and the versatility of her power... and also she was cute, in a little sibling way where you want to squeeze their cheeks. 

Not that she would dare to say so to her face. 

Or perhaps it would be Armsmaster with some cool piece of tinkertech that would provide all sorts of strange readings about her supposed power---

The person who stepped through was Clockblocker, a ward with the power to stop time for a brief period, famous for how he got his name during his first reveal to the press.

Well... there were worse Wards to meet.

Taylor's eyes moved to him the moment he entered the room, and for a few moments she struggled to look away as he walked his way up to the small group that consisted of the power testers and herself.

"Hey there! Heard you are in for the ol' Clockblocker special?"

Oh god he was far too enthusiastic.

"Something like that," Taylor shrugged. 

The Ward nodded.

"What is your power? You are the one who stops time, yes?" Danny asked.

"Um, yes, that's right, anywhere between a few seconds and a few minutes." Evidently, being confronted by an irritable, defensive father was not what the Ward had been expecting. Taylor was glad for the mask hiding her expression as a few more questions followed before he was happy to allow the testing to continue.

"Okay, the best way to do this is probably if I hold your hand or something and then you jump, going to be a bit awkward for me holding your hand for a few minutes but eh," she could practically hear his resignation to the fact already.

"Sure," she felt like a complete idiot taking the offered hand and then, after a moment, jumping as high as she could---

P̳̭̯͇̥͔͍ͣ̀ͮ͌̑ͮā̤̬̯̮͖̭̫͔ͮͩͬ̌̀̓ͥͅr̤̜̩ͥã͈͍̤͉͔̜̦̼͔̤̔ͥ̽ͅd̰̞̜̗͇̖̝͆́̑o̦͔̭̩͈̣̻͈̩̳̮͐̍̄ͭͫ̓x͕͉͉̪̬̩͚̪̯̦̥ͤ̃͆̐ͫͬ͗ ̮̯̺̳͉̯͓͕͙͕̲̓C̭͍̟͔̪̪̗̘̳͉̭ͭ̅̿̃̔ạ͇̣̝̗̰̦̪̦͗̂̍̈ͯ̋̔ͧͪ̂̋̚ͅn̪̥̰̠͎̩̬͆̎̔ͧͤ̓ͥͯ͊ͬc̞̲̪̫̘̭̱̩̬̟͙̙̓ḙ͉̜̹̹̞̪͔̐̊̀̋̈́ͪ͌̒̋l̼̘̫̙͖̓̆͒ͧͪͣͨ͊̿͊̅̓ͅl̥͖̯̫͇̲͍͂̇̇͌̆a̹͉͆t͎͕͎̝̬̙̃́̓͆͗̿̊̆̔͒ͩ̃ͅi̙̙͇̰̰̞̐́͑ͩ̏ͯ̋͐̃ọ̪͓̉̽ͬͨͯň͍͈̣̘͎̎ͯ:̝̣̙̺̥̱͇̳͙̈́͑ͮ̂̍̾̉ͯͨͩ͂̐ ͉̻̬̻̲̝̯̯̗̩͂͆ͤ͋̎̈ͯl̼͖̲̳͔̠̠̲͎̩ͨͅi͇͍͂̑̂͋m͇̻͖̪͇͓̭͈̱̆́̒͋̾̾̌ͩ̔i̯̻͉̹̩̖̩ͨ͌̅ͦ̈̄̏͗ͤ͊ͯt̻̣͓̞͎̙̖ͭ̿͊ͬ̐̂e̯ͩ̃̋d̠̬͈͇̯̺̫͍͉̹̋̓͑ͣ͊͐̑ͮ̇̚ͅ-̠̣̦ͧ̎͊͒̔d͈̘̞͈̯͙͊ͮ̒u͉͎̼͔̜͙͉͋ͅr̭̪̓ͧ̉̎a͓̺͈͌ͦͩt̝̯̭̬̝͚͚͇̿̀̃̉͆̐̿ͅi̻̦ͬo̬͕̜̦͕̩̰̎ͪ̂ͭ͗ͨ̆̊͗̓̇ͯn̯̜̰̰͍ͫ̑ͨͭ ͇͚̼͙͔͇̯̜̑̄̽͗ͅt̥̰̩̻͕̘͔̒̓ͤi̥̱̺͚͉ͯ̾̿̓̿ͪ͆̚m̗̗͉͖̹͈͍̟̬̣̾͑͑́̒͂̍̾́̋e͍̠͍̼̱ͭ͆ͥͥͨ ̠̦̺̼̐s͍̠̱̱͔̠̰͎̳̼͉̬ͦͬ̓̋ͬ́̓́ͭ̿̍ͨt̗̦̣̦͕̹̮̓̌ͪͣͯ̔̀̾͒̇͌̾õ̘̠̂ͤp̝̻͚̤̃̌̔̾͑ͬ͒̋ ̼̫̪̮͙͇̲̜͍͉̜̆̎̽̊ͥ̋̚r̫̮̽̒͐e͖̩ͫ̚s̬ͯͦͩ̅ͨ̈́̎̇ͨͫ̌t͕̞̫̤̥̳̩̱͒r͎̝̬̰̳͇̝̮ͤ̂ͥi̘̯̮͎̺̣͈̭̘͌̀̈͊͆̆̇ͥͤ̉c̪̟ͧ̓̈́ͭ̊ͧť̫̩̮̫̤̞̣͈̪̼ͅe̹̤̥̜ͭ̈́͒̈́ͯ̚ď̻̖̜̹̗̩̠̜͎̭̜͋̒́ͪ̇ͫ̇ ̲͈͉̦̮̞͔ͪ͆ͅt̰̳̫̰͖͓͛ͤ̃̄̒́͗̊͒ͭ̈́o̭̣̼̯̫͖͌̈̎̿̆ͅ ̼̜̤̏̾ͧ͒ͫ͒̒͂̾ͦͫ͒t͕̊̆̆͛̑̎̉͒̚o̗̙̖͍̊̃͆̂̆̑̓̏͑t͚̪ͪ̏̈͊͆a̙̤̥͍͔̤͍͚̰̟̫̍͌̈̚l̳̣̻̬͙̊̌͒̅ͮǐ̟̫̮͎̫̖̮͎̬̼̃ͫ͊͛̉̒̿ͩͨ̐t͔̰͕̭̭̀ͤͩ̊ͦ̾ͯ̽͆y̪̖̘̖̲̼̦͕̜̝͓͂͒ ͍͖̓ͨ͗ͫ͆̌̃͊o͈̥̹̰̝͈͌̈́f̪̱̞̔͗͊ͭ̿ͪͧͨͫ ̫̰̫̪̜̘̦̟̠̥̍̈̔ͪ͑ͪ̿͆͑̐̊̉a̹͉̝̮̣̬͍ͣ̅ͫ̊ͯf͚̞̹̌̄ͫf̻̤̼͓͚̫͚̬̖̬͙̞ͪ̏̏͒́ͨͧͯ̿̐e̮̟̰͓̬͉̜̎ͫ͗ͣͨc͖̯͙̖͓̳̮̻̟ͨ̾̇̊t͚̖̥̻͆̃̽̄̀͂̑̚e̹͕̝̬̰̺̩͓ͩ̆ͭ̾̿͑͒̇ͅd̼ͥͯ̓̀ ͉̞̩̹̗̰͖͔̝̖̑̑ͭ̀͛̍ͪͩͅm͕̦̝͕͙͉̲̥̤̲͕͊ͭ́̉ͧ̌̈͛͗͐̉ͪa̺͓̤͉͚̜͓̠̺͕͉͑̋͆̿̉̇̊̈́̊͊ͦ͊ͅs͎͉̜̫̻̿ͭ̾̌̿͂̍ͣ̎͆̚s̲̥̳͖͈͙̺ͮ͋̂̋̀̒̃ͣ

(Paradox Cancellation: limited-duration time stop restricted to totality of affected mass)

Landing back on the floor, Taylor blinked and looked up from her hand at the Ward.

"Did you do it?" she asked.

The pause was deafening.

"Yeah, but it barely lasted a second," his voice sounded surprised as he stared down at his hand as if to confirm that he was holding hers, and then back up at her. "You blocked my clockblock!"

"... What?"

The hammering of finger's against keypads resumed, somebody was writing something down on one of the myriad sheets of paper filled so far. The woman taking charge of the power testing stepped forward as if to get a better look at the two teenagers awkwardly holding hands in the centre of the room.

"Clockblocker, please would you attempt to use your power again."

The Ward once more focused on Taylor, who had to jump again, and once more nothing happened.

"It's not working!"

"Please explain."

"I cannot even get my power to work on her any more, it's like it doesn't even recognise that she is something I can affect... like if I tried to stop a building or a train."

Should she be offended by being compared to a large locomotive?

The statement, rather than being met with disappointment, earned elation from the testers, and Taylor seriously began to wonder whether they were collectively insane.

When all was said and done, the testing took around four hours.

Four long, long hours.

Now that it was complete, Taylor and her father sat again in the interview room, this one was a bit fancier than the one on the ground floor, and even had a number of pamphlets laid out for her to peruse. The one titled 'so now you have powers' was rather inane but entertaining to read, laid out in the manner of a child-friendly cartoon discussing the matter. It rather glossed over some of the more troubling aspects of it all... for instance the matters of legal status, society's expectations and the danger of having powers.

Danny Hebert had been quiet for a while, leaning his chin on his hands, elbows on the table deep in thought.

She wanted to say something... but the words would not come. What sort of thing was she supposed to say in this circumstance? Was she supposed to seem excited about the prospect of having powers? Or was she supposed to be dour, considering the great responsibility that many people would now view her as having?

So instead, she read the pamphlets, even if she was unsure how much of the information she was taking in. When the door opened, she at once made to sit up as somebody new entered the room

Miss Militia.

A childhood part of her squee'd.

"Hello there, I hope you have not been waiting too long?"

"It's okay!"

Her father simply nodded.

"Now, the guys in power testing gave you a provisional name of 'Annul', which I hope you will not mind me using whilst we talk?"

Well, there were worse titles, Taylor reflected... also much better.

"I am here to do your debrief, it would have been Armsmaster, but he has been called away by his other duties, hopefully I am not too bad a replacement?"

"No, not at all!"

Her eyes smiled. How did she do that? When in books people wrote of a person smiling with her eyes, Taylor had always disregarded such a thing. But Miss Militia demonstrated that some people could really make that old adage real.

The woman settled down opposite them.

"Now then, to go over your results," she briefly glanced down to check the papers she had brought in with her. "The guys in testing suspect that you have some sort of Trump ability that nullifies powers that have already affected you before, and a minor Brute rating that gives you a low level of regeneration. They were considering a higher Trump rating as well until they confirmed that Clockblocker could still use his power after it stopped working for you." 

Taylor nodded slowly. 

She felt out of sorts, like this conversation was taking place with somebody else.

"The Brute rating is probably the reason why your disease is so slow in progression compared to other people. Normally powers react incredibly badly with the crystallisation, you are a very lucky young lady."

There it was again, the idea that she was lucky.

What did Miss Militia think? She was telling a teenager that her slow, incurable disease was more slow and drawn out than other sufferers, but at the same time, at least Taylor would have a better chance at living a full life.

"For now, and until a more official rating can be given by Watchdog, you have been designated as Trump 2, Brute 1."

Hardly high ratings, but then again, Taylor struggled to believe that she was even a cape in the first place.

Here, Miss Militia set down the paper that she had been holding and referring to for notes.

"I hope you do not mind me asking, Annul," she began again, gently, "but have you considered joining the Wards?"

Taylor could feel her father tense up slightly beside her, his mouth opened a moment, and then he closed it as he glanced at her.

"I... don't know. I don't really have a useful power at all."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, adaptive Brute powers can be especially useful in all sorts of scenarios. There was actually some speculation about whether you could act as a counter to some persistent Shaker effects, actually," Miss Militia admitted.

The term 'adaptive Brute' brought Crawler to mind, and even thinking of herself as similar to the Slaughterhouse Nine's pet monstrosity was enough to sour her thoughts.

But...

"What do you mean by the Shaker part?"

"Well, most Shaker effects are limited in duration or based on the attention of the Parahuman, but some cases remain after the fact. There is every possibility that your power could end troublesome effects left in place across America."

"I do not want my daughter near dangerous situations."

Beside her, her father sounded quite certain about that fact. Taylor looked aside. 

Her life had been so safe in many ways, yet death and trouble had always managed to find her anyway. A perfectly normal drive became a life or death situation, a trip to summer camp became an alien hellscape with a literal living nightmare at its centre. Was all that why her father was so protective? He had been distant for so long, and now he was at once so involved in making decisions with and about her, was that normal? Some small part of her at once said yes, it was natural, another said no.

What would Emma say? There was no way Taylor would be unable to tell her about it, she would have to, as her best friend.

But if she was with the Wards, her life would escape some of its current drudgery, the slow spiral towards the grave... and maybe she could earn some money to go to college or help around the house, and spend so much time around heroes, learn all about them--

̱̣͉̤͙̤͖͌̃̓D̙̣̻̟̳̖̝̩͈ͮ̌̊̓́ͬi̤̰͖̰̙̝̺͎̎̈ͦ̌̚ͅr͎̠̭̺̩̘̱͒ͯ̊ͧ̽̽ͦͤe̪̫̱͙͉̭̙̐̈́̓ͮ͆̓ͭ͛ͪ̇ͦc̟͎̣̭̹͎̟͉̤̍̊̌͗ͣt̖̦̬͔ͬ̒ͬͫͥ̿̑̓ͬ̃i̭̘̹̺̩̳̞͓̺̖͂́͌͊͋̒̾͂ͤ̈̂ͧv̜͚̲̮̙ͣͮͥ͑ͧ͋͒̏ͥͩ̃ͅe͓̦̗̻̰͙̝̰̣̲̰̱ͨͭ͛ͥͣ̋ͫͥ̂:̲͓͇̯̙̟̻̳̹̐̅͊̿ͨ́ ̫̺̱͈̹̽͂̆A̻̫̞͎̺̺͙̯͎̮̥͖̋̈́ͫ͂͌̄͌̓ͦ̏͗g̲̬̫͇͂ͥ̑̿̓͛̄͋̄̎ͩͯṙ͇̠̗̪̻̘̮̙̩͉̏̽̇͆̉̽͐ͅe̼̤͕͔͍̎́̇ͨ̌͑ͦ̅̊ē͍̖̮͉̗͚̭̮͔͖̍ͪͅm̞̬̦̙̳̲ͬȇ̼̥͓̖̱̻͈̓̐ͨ͗̒ͧ͐̉̇n̩̝͚̦̩̰̞̯͓̠̭̲͆̿͒̊ͦ̓̆ͮ̏͆͗t͔͓̼̼̩̜͕̤͙̜̯͂̋̐̽̎ͅ

(Directive: Agreement)

"I would like to join the Wards!" Taylor blurted out, suddenly, voicing her thoughts even as a thrill of excitement ran down her spine, her exclamation quite cutting off the conversation going on between Miss Militia and her father.

Her, a Ward!

The sudden resolution had come from nowhere, she struggled to believe it herself. 

Taylor Hebert... hero.

Chapter Text

Her father was not speaking.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The alarm in the Wards quarters went off, not one to indicate an emergency but simply a warning for everyone to have their masks on.

Such was not an uncommon occurrence, although it was rarer for all of them to be in the base at the same time. Today it had been at the request of Miss Militia, and so Dean had presumed that there was some sort of news that needed to be shared in person.

So, when the alarm did go, he and the others were ready for it.

As he had thought, it was Miss Militia who emerged into the room, greeting them with the cheer that made her a favourite among the public.

"Hello all, how are we?"

A chorus of replies, ranging from the cheerful (Clockblocker) to the standoffish (Shadow Stalker). 

"Thanks for all being able to make it today, this isn't a major bit of news, but we thought it best to tell you now and in person that you'll be getting a new ward soon."

Good news, another Ward. One that would hopefully make up for a few of the shortfalls already present. Perhaps a high-level brute? Or Shaker to work alongside Vista? There were nods all around at this information. For once Clockblocker did not immediately make some comment pranking the newbie. Instead, to Dean's surprise, he appeared unsurprised by the news. Had he perhaps encountered the prospective Ward member before? He must have. 

"She is an Oort-Spider survivor, her lower legs are already crystallised." Miss Militia’s met each of their eyes in turn, stern. Dean felt his heart drop at that as a cold shiver went down his spine as memories surged to the forefront of his mind.

"I don't want anybody to treat her differently as a result, she cannot spread it to any of you and likely is very sensitive about it. Based on her interview, her meeting the Spider was her trigger event so unless she is the one to broach the topic do not bring it up."

The woman's firm look said enough, and most of the Wards nodded. Not that most would bring up Trigger Events either.

However, it was Vista who spoke next, concern evident in her voice.

"I thought that the Spider messed with people’s powers?"

Miss Militia nodded.

"Ordinant appears to be a rare exception, we think that her powers slow down and partially counteract the influence of the crystal."

"Is there any chance of---"

Miss Militia ploughed on, cutting off Vista.

"Watchdog speculates that there is a very low chance of her power going out of control like most parahumans who contract the disease, yes. We would not put you at risk if we thought that she was a danger to you all."

It was hard not to remember the images that emerged from after the first encounter with the spider, of parahumans warping and changing as their power went out of control. Quite what happened or exactly how it worked was a question but it was enough to have the Spider declared an S-Class threat even without its incredibly dangerous offensive abilities. The lucky ones went comatose or their power just stopped working.

That was something of a relief.

The spike of concern was somewhat soothed, although there was still some note of it among some of the Wards.

"What can she do, ma'am?"

It was Aegis, as their leader, who asked. Of course, he needed to know, so that he could plan things.

"Ordinant has a mild regeneration Brute power and she negates powers that are used on her, she's already immune to Clockblocker's. It appears limited to preventing them from being used against her twice. Over time she might become quite useful to the team if she can counteract wide-ranging master and shaker effects."

Useful, and it would explain quite how she was surviving her condition.

Dean looked away from the conversation.

A crystallisation victim might be difficult to deal with though...

He remained silent through the rest of the conversation as he considered the situation. Whether the others appreciated it or not, their new teammate would be slowly succumbing to their illness even as they worked together. Dean may not know of the full details behind a lot of his fellow Ward's, but unlike him, they had gone through their own traumas to gain their powers, traumas that they all on some level had to deal with. 

Ordinant would be the same. 

"Gallant, can I speak with you?"

"Of course."

As the others departed Dean remained in place as Miss Militia did the same. Only when they were alone did his superior speak up again, dropping her voice.

"Are you alright, Gallant?"

"Yes ma'am."

Dean had had to visit victims of the Crystallisation before as part of a PR event in a hospital.

They could still move, perhaps that was a mercy that the crystal allowed for flexibility, they could live their lives with some semblance of normality for a while and get their affairs in order. But as the condition progressed up the central nervous system their bodies would increasingly grow stiff, it was like some slow, insidious inorganic paralysis.

By the time it reached the brain the mobility that they had would be gone, their eyes and mouths slowly consumed as well until they were left fixed forever. 

Panacea could not help, the crystal defied conventional medical logic. Amputation was effective if it was early enough, but in the few attempts to grow limbs they grew back crystallised.

But their brains were not dead.

He still had nightmares imagining himself trapped in a cold, crystal body, constantly screaming but making no sound.

After that he had politely but firmly informed his superiors that he would never do an event like that again and to hell with the PR. It was also the same time when they stopped burying full-crystallisation victims.

"Alright, when Ordinant joins the team could you please keep an eye on her? She didn't know that she had powers until we called her in, and whilst they are not overly obvious, I think that you can appreciate that it's a little unusual... it might just be that she really did not notice them, but it's also possible that we don't have a full understanding of her circumstances."

"You think there might be things going on at home, ma'am?"

"I do not want to say yes, but if she didn't have reason to think she had triggered, then she might be used to being in a perpetual state of fear and anxiety." There was something else there, he could see it. There was concern within the woman’s aura. He could not tell the source, but as somebody used to discerning people’s emotions, it was clear. 

He nodded.

"Say no more. I'll keep an eye on her."

The first time Dean met the new Ward, he had no idea what he was looking at.

She looked perfectly normal, evidently not a Case-53.

But her emotions, if they could be called that, he had never seen anything like it. Not even in the most advanced cases in the hospital.

First off, they were so... muted. There were rapid, occasional flares of anxiety and nerves amidst a sea of depression and self-doubt... perhaps some of it was to be expected, he had seen similar combinations dozens of times over in different individuals, to the point that he could recognise and read them as readily as facial expressions. But those emotions were a small and fragile core surrounded by a vast, prismatic aura of something else, like a pearl safely contained inside an oyster.

"Hello everyone, this is your newest teammate, Ordinant."

The girl gave a wave, the others all went through their introductions. She seemed awkward, anxious? Yes, there was no faking that. The core of emotions seemed to reflect that, even as the vast outer shell remained the same.

He had no idea just what the hell the larger aura was. 

Just looking at it made his eyes hurt.

It was the opposite of Vicky. Whilst his girlfriend’s aura made it difficult if not impossible to get an accurate read on her emotions, this girl's muted core of emotions was clear as day but enveloped in something so utterly alien that just looking at it sent a chill down his spine.

"Gallant?" the sound of his name being called, well, Hero name, shook him from his reverie. Shit, how long had he zoned out?

For a moment there was no response, and then he jolted.

"... Ah, sorry, I got distracted," he stumbled over himself. This was not how he normally was, and judging by the other's movements and the changes to their auras, they knew it. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Wait...

The girl, there was a flare of... empathy at that? The shell remained the same yes, but that 'pearl' of an aura inside it was now less anxious, understanding had dawned in it. Oh right, it must be clear that he was being awkward to her, and now she could understand it as well. 

Despite everything, he offered a hand, stepping forward. Her own took it, the vast aura enveloped him, and for a moment he paused. Nothing was different.

He tried not to be one of those people that shake hands at arm's length, the sorts that his father would complain about being 'limp-wristed'. Her grip was perfectly normal, her hand smaller in his and very warm. 

Dean did not realise that he was holding his breath until their hands pulled apart and he realised that his vision was swimming.

He stepped back, stepped away from her and watched as Vista swiftly drew Ordinant into conversation. It was just... her power being odd, he should not judge, the girl had had a very harsh time if she was an Oort-Spider survivor. Nothing to worry about.

So why could he not escape the feeling that something was very, very wrong?

Chapter Text

Taylor's reveal to the public was a rather low-key affair, taking place two and a half weeks after her first meeting with Agent Coleson.

It barely warranted much attention in the grand scheme of things, for how much she had stressed herself out about it.

The event was mostly closed to the public, but she had been allowed to invite her father and, on her insistence, Emma as well. For most of it, Taylor had sat near the back as various sorts prattled on with a long PR spiel whilst she focused on her friend and father in the crowd. It was much easier that way, to not have to look at the staring faces and instead on the familiar. 

There was a lot being said but not much real substance to her mind, 'upholding the PRT's commitment to Brockton Bay and its people' was one line that floated into her ears. 

She did not want to be too cynical; she was now a hero! She needed to be positive.

When it had come time for her to make her introduction, she did her best not to sound too stilted.

"Hello everyone, thank you for coming out tonight! I am Ordinant, and I look forward to doing my best to help Brockton Bay!"

There was more, of course, all nice and written out ahead of time, the questions asked carefully vetted beforehand, and a go-to response also there for any attempted curveballs. 

The PRT had this down to a fine art, clearly. 

All in all, it took an hour, but Taylor would struggle to remember much of it afterwards.

The crescendo of flashing cameras she met with a plastered-on smile, glad for her visor.

Still, that had been yesterday.

Now sat in the Wards quarters, Taylor waited anxiously for her teammates to arrive.

Taylor was honestly surprised that they were even having her patrol, tonight would be her very first! Her superiors had said that they might have 'an alternative way for you to contribute' in the near future, but it was still being considered by the people above them. She had no idea quite what it would be, but they seemed excited about it.

But apparently there was still a bare minimum number of patrols she would be expected to perform, they would just be putting her on the 'safe routes'.

If they were so safe, were they just there for publicity?

Pushing her chin into her palm, Taylor closed her eyes. Everything had been such a rush recently. She was unused to change, her life for the last few years had been so static, so unchanging. After the Spider arrived, it had all started going downhill, the safe monotony of school, time with Emma and home.

But here she was, a Ward, waiting to go on her first patrol.

Taylor mentioned it to her dad, and was given a firm command to take care of herself, to get out at the first sign of trouble if needed.

She was not so sure that that was an option, heroes were not meant to run away at the first sign of trouble, really. Well, not in public; according to the operational handbook, the commands of console and superiors were to be followed, and a Ward should call in a situation rather than racing off to attempt to deal with it themselves. So, if she did run into trouble tonight, they would be fine, the younger Ward would be able to get them out of trouble... unless Taylor became immune to her power, that was.

Although, Taylor felt tired already... 

She had struggled to sleep last night due to nerves and anxiety, and then did a full day at school... It would be fine to rest her eyes for just a little time before she went on patrol, right?

...

...

...

It was rare for Taylor to dream.

For years, she had been a deep sleeper, such that dreams were an odd experience both to experience and recall upon waking up.

A vast darkness filled with twinkling stars, an absolute void that the distant light of those tiny specks barely lit. A place utterly cold and devoid of warmth, filled with countless misshapen forms of ice, stone and crystal. Vast spires of the latter material predominated, sparkling and twinkling, absorbing the radiation of distant stars, growing by fractions over periods of time vast yet undefined in her own mind. Inside their vast lattice-forests moved things and lifeforms that were born, lived and died within the light-years-wide swarm of millions of objects that was her home.

The stars surrounded her on all sides, she could hear the song of their electromagnetic waves, a constant background noise, sometimes gentle, sometimes blaring. The roaring scream of a supernova that happened only a short while ago was still blazing and dominating the song.

This was the ecosystem in which she had no equal.

Every couple of aeons she would take action, roaming her domain to assimilate the various life forms that had arisen and evolved, examining their traits and adapting them to herself. Not since she emerged had any stood above her. She was the ultimate being here, and between these wanderings she would rest for another few vast expanses of time on whatever rock or planetesimal she deemed sufficient.

Her domain, her home.

The nuclear heart within her core burned at a low level, as it had for so long during these periods of inactivity, capable of producing enough energy in a moment to obliterate whatever rock she found herself upon. The dark matter plankton that resided on her body converted the solar winds of the nearby star into further fuel to sustain her, teeming microscopic forms of life that grew and lived out their lives in her numerous joints and plates.

There was no need for more.

She could sit for an eternity and feel nothing but the cold serenity that was her existence. An existence without sensation and thought, yet purpose and drive could blossom into being within a moment if needed. 

Until, movement caught her attention.

In the distance, a vast distance, she could see strange forms moving against the void, a pair of long, squirming shapes that were entwining and moving around one another. In a moment, she had looked back through the vast span of her existence and found no analogous existence to have arisen within her domain. Were they lifeforms that had evolved in some other part of the cloud of crystal and ice? Whatever they were, they were vast indeed.

They were intruders, though.

Rising from her current territory, she began to make her way towards them—

"----nant?"

Taylor opened her eyes. Where was she? 

Her eyes rapidly cleared. Oh wait, Vista was there.

"Y͖̓ḛ̈́s̼̿?̣͒

Vista paused, evidently thrown by her response.

"What the hell was that sound?"

"Sorry, something in my throat," Taylor apologised, clearing the offending windpipe. She sat up. "What's going on? Oh, wait---"

"Time for Patrol, sorry if I had known that you had been waiting here for us then I'd have sent you a message, I was just coming early to get ready..." Vista sent her a smile. The youngest Ward was a lot more affable than Shadow Stalker, and Taylor tried to smile back. "How long have you been waiting here?"

"I came straight from school, heh, sorry I was up late last night."

Had she honestly fallen asleep? That was so unprofessional! 

She had been hoping to make a good impression on her teammates! She was sure that she had been having a weird dream as well, something to do with stars and space... the details escaped her now. 

"You still good? We're on a super safe route tonight seeing as it's your first, so I wouldn't expect much to be honest," Vista shrugged.

"Yeah!" she tried to restrain her excitement.

"We've got Stalker with us as well, so don't expect much good conversation."

To that, Taylor could not really give much response. The former vigilante seemed... Well, Taylor had done her best to at least make good introductions with everyone, but it seemed that the other girl had no interest at all in reciprocating it. And life was too short, getting most of them to at least be friendly was a win though, right? You could not please everyone in this life. Maybe there were issues at home that she did not know about?

Not her place to ask.

Not at all.

She would want the same about her own life, after all.

Her first patrol. 

The trio made their way down a sidewalk, Taylor walking between the other two Wards as they made their way. The conversation was indeed stilted, Shadow Stalker was making few if any attempts at anything approaching conversation whilst Vista was an endless source of anecdotes and stories, some of them were rather unnerving considering her age. Should somebody that young be facing down armed robbers, even with a power? 

Still, Taylor was glad for the younger hero's presence. 

Had it just been her and Shadow Stalker, she would not have anybody to speak to.

"Console to team, any updates?"

Taylor jumped at the sudden voice in her ear, suppressing a squeak of surprise. Oh, that sounded like... Gallant! She rushed to reach up to her ear. Even if she could not do much to help with the patrol if they did run into somebody, perhaps she could act as their comms agent? They could look out for trouble and she would handle that part!

"Um, Ordinant to console, everything seems okay so far," she hurried to reply, trying to sound professional.

"Good to hear, please call in if anything happens." 

Well, it is not like she could contribute in many other ways.

"Heh, not bad Ordinant, you can relax a little though," Vista giggled at the way she responded.

Taylor chuckled awkwardly and tried to change the subject.

"Do new Wards usually get put in a trio, then? I mean, like I am for you guys?"

"Nah, not really."

"Oh, okay."

In the end, they did not run into any trouble, and the patrol ended up basically being the three of them wandering the streets of downtown for a few hours before returning to base. Shadow Stalker seemed irritated by the lack of action, in a way Taylor could hardly blame her. The other girl was a hero, and from what Taylor knew, a very proactive one. Perhaps she felt shackled, unable to do what she considered her duty to the people of Brockton Bay?

If she had been determined enough to be a teenaged vigilante, then she must be a good person. After all, it took guts and a serious drive to take on potentially armed criminals.

Taylor smiled to herself.

Even though she felt tired, she was also... invigorated after the night's patrols, spending time with the other two Wards and doing something productive. Even if they did not run into any trouble.

She would have to tell Emma all about it! But later. 

Her friend would be asleep by now. 

Things were... they were improving, right? This was new, this was a new experience the likes of which she had not had in ages. It felt so surreal. 

It was too late for her to go home; she would stay in the small bedroom set aside for her in the Wards Quarters. Apparently it was normal protocol for them all to have a small personal space, a late-night patrol would be troublesome in terms of getting them back home, better to have the option of staying the night. She had told her father that likely she would have to do so... would he have even noticed if she was out for the night?

No, no he was paying a bit more attention now with this Wards business, and a quiet word from Alan Barnes, she suspected.

Settling down, staring at the blank ceiling, Taylor began wondering whether she could customise this small space she had been provided... it would look so much better covered in stars, like her room back home. She could already see them, hundreds of little sticky backs that she could carefully set up in the constellations and patterns of the heavens. 

Would she get permission? She had not seen any of the other Ward’s quarters, how much could she personalise this space?

A strange sensation struck her. 

She felt strangely... lost, in this place, without her stars. 

She would definitely decorate it if she could.

Chapter Text

Since joining the Wards, things had been a bit different at home. 

The interactions between Taylor and her father had degraded to being pleasantries and clumsy conversations over the years, where most of the time, Taylor came away wondering how she could have phrased what she wanted to say differently.

"... How did stuff with the Wards go last night?"

"Fine." C'mon Taylor, say something else! Quick, add details! "U-Um, we went on a patrol in a safe area, we didn't run into trouble."

"Good." That was the first time in the conversation in which he had not paused before speaking, did that mean that he was genuinely relieved that she was okay? Wait, of course he would be. With how much he argued over her Wards contract for the very bare minimum of patrols and her safety, she would hope so. 

"... What were they like to be with, are you making friends?"

It was such a dad question.

"I am not sure how much I can say, but Vista seems very nice. She's really mature, but helpful as well." 

He nodded slowly.

"She's the one who has been a Ward for ages, right?" 

"Yeah."

The next few minutes were spent in silence as they ate their dinner, Taylor mostly pushing the food around on her plate. It was not that she did not like it, more that she did not feel in the mood for it.

It was her father who broke the silence between them, clearing his throat.

"Taylor," she looked up at him from her plate. He looked uncomfortable, and stood up to get a glass of water rather than face her. "I... think it is time we had another conversation about your legs."

Taylor's heart stuttered in her chest.

"The PRT called me, they think that they may have a procedure to replace them. I know that we discussed it before... but I think that it is something that should be done. There's a cape who makes prosthetics in New York, which would avoid some of the issues they had in the past with using Panacea apparently," he said. "But this cape can make mechanical legs that are as good as normal ones, they even have feeling and touch---"

Her legs---

H͉͈̬̮͇ͩ̓o͈̻̐s̭ͤ͊t̖̲ͦ̾̓ͥ̇ ̼̂̆ͣ̈d̗̲̞̤̲̃̓̚i̗̣͍̮͗r͈̱̯̓ͅe̹̺̺̺̅̽̈̂c̠̎ͤͭt͕͆ǐ͉͖v̩̑̒̊͊e̹̲͙̳ͤͤ̂͂̓;̻ͤͬ̾ ͙̙̫̖̂͆͗̊͐ͅp̻̲̲̰ͪ̽̂r̥̠ͧ̊͒o̭͕̖̝͒͒̈́t̖͇ͬ͒́ė̮̒c͓̩͕̦ͥt̳͓̓̄̒̑ͫ ̳̭͓̠̻ͨ̽c̤̬̼̞̎ͩ̋o̰ͦ͋ͤ̈́̋n̠͍̲͇̬̂ͯ̌v͖̱̭̺̝͋̓͛e̙̥̺̦̘ͫͧr͎͎ͨ͛ͥͩ̂s͔̫̺̻͗í͉̐̔ó̞͓͌̾ͯͩͅͅn̜̗̭̈́ͮ̋ ̲͎̣̫͖̂̅m͍̖͍̓ͫ̈̃a̰̳̦̣̒ͪ̚t̤̖ͦͅe̦̊͆ͫ̚r̺̗̞̳̒̈́̋i̙͖̜̖͒̋͒ͣ̔ạ̬͉ͧͣ́͛ĺ̳̾

(Host directive; protect conversion material)

͎̣̼̝̑͑ͦ͋ͣA͖̪ͣͫ͛ͭḻ̬̆ͨ̿̋t̞̂ͣe̜͌̈̏ͅr̺͓̊̉ͧ͐ͨȉ̞̣̰͍̬͂ͤ̚n̼̺̋g̤̩̹̯̙͋ͤ͐̉ ͔̪̬̬͇ͥ̈ͣͥ̓ḫ̳̣̑ò̭̻s͍̞͋ͩͥ̿t̫̮̖̰̘̎͋͌ͥͯ ͚̦̉̂̃r͕̊͗̓͗ē̩̼̻̭̘̋̌s̺͉̘̗̱̏̏͌p͍̹͚͒ȍ͕ͫ̆̋n͉̣̞͋ͥ̾͒s͔͍̺͚ͪ͐́ͦe̬͇̣̘ͧ͋̌ͮs͇͇̳̩͓̿ͭ̃ͬ

(Altering host responses)

Her legs!

It was a good thing that her father was looking away, else he would have seen her instinctual reaction, to curl up, to reach down.

They wanted to cut them off! They wanted to remove her legs. Leave her crippled. Weak. Helpless. Dependent. 

"D-Da---" her voice was all messed up.

"I know it's hard to think about Taylor, but I can't just..." he stopped, his shoulders hunched a little as if self-conscious, or feeling her gaze on his back. "I can't lose you."

I can't lose you.

What... what was she supposed to say? Whatever words were in her throat died, leaving her choked. She knew objectively that it was the right thing to do, in frantic moments since that time she had wondered about it, told herself that yes, she would talk to dad about having them taken away. A life in a wheelchair compared to a slow, creeping death was better, right? It would not be easy to adjust, but---

HER LEGS.

It was like they were aware of the conversation, all at once she was keenly aware of the sensation of the socks on her toes, of the hem of her pants and where it sat. The cold, callous crystal at once felt so very alive that it felt just like a pair of real legs, of flesh and blood. She needed them, she walked on them. She couldn't be without them!

I can't lose you.

I can't lose you.

I can't lose you.

"I'll... I'll think about it."

It was the best she could say to the suggestion. 

"They wanted my permission to begin the process, at least to work out the procedure, I told them yes, and I know that they are extending the offer to Emma as well. They know how important she is to you," he said in a rush, as if he had to get it off his chest.

How much could she think about it? What if the PRT demanded it for her to continue being a Ward? Where were her rights, did she need to contact a lawyer of some sort--- wait, was she arguing with herself to keep her own, fatal limbs? 

They were going to kill her but---

P̟̜̆r̰̲̭̀͌̈o̩̩̍t͎̳̟̗ͥͭ̑͐̆e̻̪͑c͈̝͇͕̙̆ť͔̘͉͓͖̈̈́͑̚ ͓̱̲̒c̭̩͕̗̣̏̇̍ͨ͆o̥̮͚͕̓n̝͔̜̝͛͌ͮv̘̰͔̭̻͂͐ͤe͙ͯ̈́r̗͚͔̆s̗͍̠͆i̖̦̦͓̘͋̉̎o̞̥͎̤̘ͪͧͬ̀n̺̤͙͕̥̒ ̟̳̼̺ͪ̽ͯm͖͇ͪ̆̏̈́͋á̦̺̗̝͍ͨt̩̂̀͛ͫě̗̤̪̯ͨͪ̆r͖̀ì̭̣̻̖a͔ͮͧ͐͗ḽ̹̬̠̆̋̓ͨ

(Protect conversion material)

Her head was all messed up, on some level, she had been avoiding this question since she first contracted the disease.

"I... I need to think." 

She did not even clear away her meal, leaving it unfinished as she half-walked, half-stumbled up to her room.

Terror, confusion, hope, worry, indecision.

Collapsing onto her bed, Taylor stared blankly at the opposite wall, eyes tracing the representation of Leo. At this time of year, it would be just about beginning to appear in the sky... But it was hard to see the stars in Brockton Bay, after all.

Taylor curled up like a dead insect, drawing in all her limbs to her chest and resting her fingertips on the crystal.

She felt… overwhelmed. 

Everything had started changing so fast. After so long being stuck in place, all these changes at once were too much. Taylor took a deep, ragged breath.

Why was it so hard to think about losing her legs? She had so many times before, but each time she just... brushed away the notion. It would all be okay, it would all be okay, the crystal was slow for her, she could just live a perfectly normal life. 

Yeah, yeah! There was no need, everything was fine---

Could her dad just force it to happen? 

Guardians could do that, couldn't they? Like, if a person was acting unreasonably, could he force her to consent to the process?

She squeezed her eyelids together so hard that she began to see stars superimposed against her vision.

In a way, that was the worst part of it.

The lack of control. 

For years she had had no real control over her life. Living that daily routine, that monotony had been like a safe, gentle lullaby to stop her from thinking and dreaming about possibilities, it was like a safe road that led onwards without diversion. There was no need to think deeply, she had just been able to exist within a sort of existential malaise. The crystal slowly crept upwards, yes, but it was so slow that so long as she did not look too much, she did not notice it.

And then she joined the Wards.

Even if it was a choice that rather came out of nowhere for her, and she still wondered where that moment of absolute certainty came from, that had been her first step out of that comfortable malaise, that nest of her life. And now something else was going to try and move her from it.

They wanted to take her legs.

She needed a distraction.

The computer.

Unfurling, she crawled over to the seat, grabbed a blanket that sat on it, wrapping herself up secure in a cocoon. 

Booting the computer up she briefly checked PHO and then began a deep dive. Right now, she did not want to think much, she just wanted to… exist. To drown in a sea of information and barely remember much of it by the time she stumbled to bed. Rather than think about the problems of her real life.

‘Fallen abducts Seattle Ward! Manhunt ensuing.’

The Fallen?

Oh.

Those freaks.

People who worshipped Endbringers. Some even worshipped the Spider.

‘After Behemoth, which Endbringer will attack next and where?’

Leviathan should be next in the cycle, another coastal city probably ruined for generations. Generations that the world really could not afford or have time for. A city flooded and eroded away or straight up sunk into the ocean. Well, in a morbid way, was it kinder than the effects of the Simurgh? Canberra was still being walled in as she glanced over the title of the article.

Frankly, whilst each was horrible, Taylor was secretly glad that the fourth Endbringer did not attack cities.

If the Oort-Spider attacked a city…

No, look at the new hero and villain news.

Taylor dived into research, watching videos, reading all about the newest exploits of other Parahumans. Huh, that felt odd to say... other Parahumans, she was one of them now, and she had been for a while, she had just never realised it. Perhaps all of this fascination with learning more about Capes was just some subconscious preparation for a life as a hero?

Idly she watched some high-level brute in Atlanta shrugging off bullets during an attempted armed robbery. 

P͇͓͕͓͗̃̓̉͐̐͊̽̈̃̀ͮa̮̣̲̮̦͔̳̹̥͚͔̱̒̑̈́̑̄͊̏̚r̩̬͔͕̭̝̱̓͂̽̑ͭ̆ͫͧ̅a̫̖̣͖͕̻̦̝̱͉͋ͦ̊̂̏ͮ̽̎͑̈d͔̙̯̳̖̹̟̉ͭ̽i͚̱̱̩̟̗̥̺̠ͨͤͨ̎ͩ̐̍͂̍ͦg͎̥͙͎̭̪̤̀ͭ̽ͤ̉ͯ̒͑m̝̲͓̺̯͇͖̦̣̞̜̓̐̎͗ͮ̽̌ ͍̪͚͖̜͉͇̜͕̲͓ͭ͆ͨ̏̀ͭI͙̣͎̖͙̖͉̪͇̫͉ͯ͊͊ͪ̾̍ñ͉͓̘͔̻̺̻͍̪̝̾ͩͧ̾͋̍ͅf̯͓̝̭̞̙̬͎̬̦̪̊̂̋ͣ̆ͬl̝̪̝̩̪̖͐͊̎̇ǎ̹͕̘͔̲̳̜͍̲͛̀͂̈͗ͅt̝̝̥̜̰̖̦̣̪̓́̇̉̓̆͂̄͗i̝̲̝͔̙͍̍̊ͦ̈́͆o̰̥̠̥͖̗͙̩̫̙͛ͫ̾͗̍͗ͪ̒n̬͇̗̰̐̃ͣ̐͌͋:͇̳̼͔̈́ͨ ͎̠͔͍̒́ͮͨ̋ͅṮ̝̠̺͓̣͓͖͆̅ͯ͛ͣͅe̙̪̥̹͉ͯ͋̒̿ͥ̎̏͋̅̂m̥̙͙̯ͨͣ͌p̼̹̥̥͙̮͎̺̩̱̲̮̓ͩ̃o͕̦̰̟̬̘̤͎̙̞̓̓̚r͚̺͖̦͓͇͍͖͂́ͫ͌̿ͅa͓̼͚̭̝̦̗̭̎̓̑̋̇̆ͨͦ͋l̙̭̰̣̰̝̫ͮ̂̐̊̋̏ͯ̉͋l͖̰͖͖̩̺͖͓͎̝̯͊̉y̥̻̪͚̜͇̖̫̻̹̩̆͒ ̻̬̲̦̰̫͓̻̟̺̮ͦͣ́ȋ͓̳̼͓̒̓̍͆n̦̳̱͕̣̮̫͈͍ͮ͆̃ͭ̑ͩ̎͌̇͒ͤ̌v͍̞̼̠̠̤̮̻̯̥̉u͎̦͓͙͇̳͖̦͈̮̅͒̉̽̇ͫͫ̄l͔̞̜͉̪͈̼̉n̂ͨ͋̐ͪͤͥe̼̱͓͎̬̲̘ͩ̐ͅr̥̘̦̓ͮͅä͎͙̯̹̙͔̠̫́́ͪb͚̤̓ͦ̑ͩ̊̊̌̓̈́ͤ͂l̝̪̏̇͋ͫ̉̓è̼̗̹̰̽ͮͦ̈́̐͛ͫ́ͧ͂̈́ͅ ͍͕̲͒ḇ̟̮̻̙̮͈͓͚̾̎ͥ͌ͩ͑̒̂͛ͯ͋ȍ͖̙̥̠̰̤̖̺͖͕̲̞̑̉͂͋ͦ̚d̬͚̪̣͙͇͙̖͗̏͗̍̓ͬy̮͐͛̓̐̒ͧ͊̉ͤͤ,̩͓̮͔̤͑͊ͯͩ̌ͨ͌ ͚̲͕̱̭͚̗̥ͤ̂ͪ̑͆̋ͪ̐ͥͭ̒f̦͔̺͕͍ͧͦ̌̂̎̌ͪ̓ͅi͇͙̣̘̜͔͓̞͚̿̒͒̋ͣͬ͌ͅx̲̤̜ͤ͊͗̔ͭͫ̈́͒ͩ̈́i̦͇̭̯̝̩̤͖̎͗̉ͯ̿̆ͤ̈̃̅̀n̼ͦ͐̆͆̎́͗g̘̙͔̱̫͉̻̯̈̓̈́ͬ̆̿͑ ̣̘̬̝̙̮̭̦͖͔ͭͬ̉̔̄̃s̟̖͎̲͚̄̾ͧ̇ṭ̩̥̣͈͇͍̫̇̂ͬͫͯ̌͆ͫ̚a̯͓̬̗͍̜̠͖͎̯̯̔̎̓̀̍ͣ̑ṯ̭̫͕̲̜̺̝̻̦̽ͪ̊̄ͭ͆͋e̺͙̲̹̠̠̱͙̗̤̙̠̓ͪ̾ͬ ̭̹͓̥̩͔͎̖̰͈̲̔̐́t̓ͤͣ́͊͒ͯ̽o̺̙͙̺̺̳̰͓ͦ̏ͦͨ̿̅ͨ͑ ̖̼̲͑́̾̏͗̑̆ͧ̎̃̽fͥͤ͊ͨ̿̓̽̆i̞͐̎ͯ̔̐̒̉͊ͅr̯̝͚̦̘̝̬̘̪̳͉̳͊̏͐ͣ̇̋̅ͧ͛̓̇ͪs̘ͦ̍̋̑͆̌̓t̪͍̼̻̙̗̫̣̞̱̍ͫ͗͗ͨ̔ͬͅ ̯̮̞̮̗̹̗̮̥͙̪̦͂ͤ͑͋̇͛̅͊a̟̦͖̖̪̼͐͊̓̔̂̽͛̈́ͯw͓͉͍̥̘̻̩̝̦͗̓̈̌̄͌͒̋̀ͅa̯̪̹̼͈̭̭̹̦̗ͬͅȓ̹͔͍̞̞ͯ̌͊ͅe̬̦̭̪̦͍̊ͪ̆ͧ ̤̪̻̣̟ͥ̿̉̂ͦͬ̍̚m̥͂̍ͥ͑̅̌ͩͣ̀ͪ̒o͔͎̩̤̟̲̺͑̈́̊m̗̝̻̙͉̦͕̼̭͉̜̿ͪͧ̅̓̍͂̔͂͂eͭ̏ͦ͗͂̈́̚n̟͓͇͕̜̲ͪ̑͌̄ͮ̄̆͐̃̚ẗ̬̽̓ ̙̰̪̪̣̯̜̱ͯ̇̐õ̱͖̙̜̍ͮ̊̇̏̅ḟ̼͈̘̣̟̙̖̫͒͗ ͓̩̪͉͇̟͍̪̺̯̪̓̍ͬ̈̊̉͋͋̈́͋̏̑t̔ͥ͑͌͊̍̅́̔͊̇h̦̠ͣ̊ͦ͗̈ĕ̳̻̭̩̼̻̯̗ͨ̋̽̓ ̘͍̖̲̠͍ͧ̃͋̿͛̚d̰ͥ͒̐͛̇a̪̔͑ͪ̄̂͆ͨ̋ỹ̳͈̀ͫ̓̎͊

She certainly did not feel like a Parahuman... 

Despite everything, the assurances from the other Wards and her superiors, both the powered and the unpowered. She felt almost like an imposter just playing the part of being a hero without the real drive or genuineness to be one. That feeling of merely being false, not being real like a facsimile, a bit player pretending to be important and squirming her way into their ranks like some sort of worm.

Sure, people could talk about her power being useful, but it was not really, was it?

No, more positive thinking. They had been talking about how they were in discussions, how they might have a 'project' for her soon.

Being a teenager was often about not feeling like belonging, right? She was still new to the Wards. Perhaps it was not such an unusual sensation?

She did not blink as she moved onto the next post... she had not blinked in ten minutes, even if she did not realise it.

The next video was filmed from a phone, so the quality was not very good, it was some woman in Texas who could create discs of light and throw them, like chakrams. They were fast, although still somewhat limited, and it seemed that she was still somewhat new to the power, her aim was rather off. But watching an errant disc slice through a tree branch yet bounce off a window had Taylor quirking her head with alien fascination.

̳̖͙ͧ͒ͅP͇͍̬̲̘͍̬͉̾ͅà͎̭̲ͭ̍r̯̪̝̯̦͖̥͖̟͐ͬͅa̝͚̠ͬͪd̟̮͔͎̤̲ͫ̉̒̔ͣͨ̐̅̄ḭ̤́̌̒̓̾̉g̠͙̩̳̬̍m͔̘̭̹͔̗͚̍ͣ̈͆ͤͬ͋ͬ ̰̮͔̖̂͆̀̏̓͂ͮ̇̚Ỉ̻̥̦̙̹͇̮͉̻̮̩͙ͩ͊̑̌ͨͣ͌̀ͯn͉̓̍́f̰͕͕͈̣̳̾ͬͯ̆̿ľ̰̝͎̦̭̹ͫ̀̃̋̉̿͂̎̂a͔͍̮̥̩̩͌̓̃ͪ͗̐̐ͦ͊̅̒t̠̥̪̘͍̞̬̰̐̈́̃ͧ͗i̦̯͚̅̔ͫ̄͛ͮ̆ͧ͑o͕͇͍͙̼̠̘ͨn̙͓̝̞̘͇͚̙̎̍̓ͥͦ̇̑͗͆:͕͉̹͚̠̘̭͖̝͚̖͛̒͑̉ͅ ̠̺͇̭̠͍͈̯̯̰̯͚̈̿ͣE͙ͪ̂̓ͅn̳͕͙̩̤ͣ̌ͅe̝ͯͮ̽͒̿ͩ̃̔̐̚r̬̱̃͒ͥ͊ͯ̽͋̄g̦̰͙̜͇͚̎̽̆̊͊ͧ̈̂ͬͅy̝̤͔̱̆̐̊̅̽͑ͬ͂̂̓ ͓̲̘̣̠͉̩ͧ̋ͦͩͯ̿ͅm͉͍̯̺͖͙ͪͭ͒ͩ̄ͤͪa̖̬̦̜̗̜̟̗̗̩̣̐̄̈͗ͯ̂̓ͅṋ̗̗̺̆̈́͑̈̑ͮ̈́í̼͙̜̜͖̠͑͑̀̀͌ͣp͉̗̟̳̞̭͇̮̞̌ͮ̈̔͌̑ṷ̖ͩ̈̄ͯ̊̉l̫̬̱̫ͦ̇ͦ̑̐̋ͩa̜̟̖͍̜͙͇͖̞ͤ͆t̮͔̫͇̰̺͂ͭ̓̉ͫͪ̑̾ͪ̓͂i̠͍̳͕̣̙̠̲ͦ̎ͦͥͬo͍̥͚͔̯̜͉ͪͬͪ̐̄̓̇̿̋̊ͅn̞̹͈̪̖̝͙̻̲͍̖̑̒ ̼͕̬̐̆̾̓̋̽̑͐̌ͩ̐ͥf̩̖̣͉͎̭̭̟̞̜̬ͩ̾ͤ̔̏̓̔̚̚ȍ̤̩̼̳̭͎̤̹̩̬͔͛̂ͦ̈ͤͫ͒͋̓̂ͅc͚͎̐͛́ͮ͛ủ̞̤̞̃͆ͪ̾ͅͅs̩̹̤͊̿ͮ͆̋̌e͚̖̻̥̦͑ͣ́̋ͦ̄ͪd̼͙̒̄́̏̾͐̈́͊͐ ͇ͬ̚â̬̜̟̗͍̞̗̗ͣͯ͋̀ͮͦ̂̓r̤̠͎̲̹͉͎̗̭͈̉̐̌ͩͣͨ̆o̹̖͈͐̔ͮͦ̿ͮ̄͛͋uͮͥ͑̾͋̐n̤̪ͬ̑̀̿d͍̻̭͉̞̯̓̓̈́̈́̑̏͊ͨͩ̽̔̔ ̗̗̉͊̈́̊̅d͔̦̗͗͛̇͂i̯̹͙̗͖͐̂̀́ͧͬ̍ͦs̠̝̝̻̻̥̠͓̮̺͙̑͒͆͊͒̉͌͗ͧ̀ͯͣͅc̗̭ͭ̀-͉̪̣̒ͣ̋̃s̻͇͔͆͐̐͂͆ͤ͒̀̃h̞ͮ̒͛ͩ̎̆å̲͍̺̪͙͚̗̞̙͆͆ͧ̓͒ͅͅp̗͎̱͇͉̠̠̥͇̼̈́ͯ̂̍ͩ͗̓̾ͤͅé̤̖̘̗͉̫̻̈́͐d̙͈͇̖̩̣̭̠͖̹͕͌̇̔ͭ̓ ̘̘̃h̳̳͎̰̅͛̈͗ͣ͂ͪ̈a̩̪̖̩̩̝̠͖̅͊̈́̔͛ͤ́̈́ͩ̄͋r͙͚̙̫̤͎̭̣̎͗̋d̼͉̣̟͑̽ͤ̉ͤͤͥ͋-̞͉̝̾̇̓̎̐ͥ̉͋ͧͪͅl͖̥̺̜͇̳͇̰͉ͪͭ̿̋̊ͤi̻͖̞͒͌̽̑͌̀̑̌ͣͮ̽g͇̼͎̦̰̺̠̣̲͛ͫh͎̰̖̟̞̟̘̙͒ͨ̌̀ͅt̺̏ ̲̱͎̪ͨ͛͊̂ͨ̐͑̚e͙̠̯̖̖̻̎ň͉̪̗̻̲̯̻̞̋̀̌̅e̯̠̳̖͓̓̅͆͌ͮͦͫ̒ͪͧ̌̚r͕͎̪̖̳ͧͨͦͪ͐̍͛̂̈ͨͅg̠̦̓̒y̪͍͓̠̖ͣͯ̒ͣ̿ͦ̌̊̈́͋ ̜̮̹̘̤͍̬̞ͨ́͒̏ͤ͐̄̂ͬp͔͋ͮͮ̎ͭ̆̓͊ͨ̓̑r͉͍͓̜̰̞̋̓̈́̇̇̈́ͮͫ̂ȍ͓̣͕͓̣̯̹͎̪͇ͪ͑̋ͨ͛̃ͧͦ̚j̣͙̝̘̘͖̳͎̳̪̲̔̋e̳̱͓̠͇͇̲̮͙͗̈͆͆͐̔̄̋̔͆ͫc̯̥̪̭̬̯̝̯̦̫͆ͬͫ̽͑̎ͭ͑͋t̙̘̠̩͆̎̑̇̍͋̋ͨi͇̞̹͆̌l͍̦̜̓̿ͦ̒e̯͂͋̎ͦͭͣͪ̒s͈̳͓̬͚͖̯̟̘̝̥̏ͧ͒̍.̯̱̝̬̻́͑́͋̍͆̐̑́ͨ ̬̦̮͇͓̬̩̩̮̯̈́̉̐̑ͅC̰̫̎̌͊ͥ̋͆͌͛ͦa̳̰̭̜̜͈̳͓͕̗ͦ͐ͨ̓ͯ͂̏̆̄̚n͖̬̬̖̖̈́̓̇ͥn̺̝̞̱̐ͥ͋̓̾ͯͯ̉̋ö͕̥̳̥̪̹̈̏ͥ̈̊̿ͩ́ͩ̿t̻ͨ̈͒̾̋ ̘̙̟͎̲͌͛̄͗̿̋ͭͧ͋̽̒ͅẖ̮͎̤̬̉ͦa̪͇͍͚͖̟̹̩̳̝͉̭̐r̙̖̩͉̺͚͙̻̆̈́͂ͅm̘̘̫̝̣͍̝͑̄ͬͭ̐ͤ͋̃ ̭̦͖͇͖̪͖̺̮̩̭̅ͭͪͥ͛͊͒ͥͫs̲̣͎͓͕̯̫̬̦̖̜͎̈́͌ͣͦ͆i͇ͯ̔͛ͪ͛ͮͧ͋l̺̠̪̜̋̋ͣ̾̔̄ͮ̃̇ͬi̥͇͚̩ͫ̓̍̚c̤̹̝̜̪̹ͩ̄̌ͤo̱̼̤̬̹̖̹͉͖͚͔ͣ̈́̍͑ͨ̈̐̎̾ͅn͉̞̣̯ͬ̑ͪ͂ ̹̦̮͊̓̀̄ͅb̻̣̭͓̒͛̓ͭ̿̅ͣ̅ͦͅa̱͑̓ͫͮ͌̈̏̓͋͂̏s̳ͯ͗̓ͦ̍ͣ͊̊̈͋̚ͅe̞̙͕̙͓̮͙̰̟̝̜̊ͤ͛̾̊̈̈ͅd̬̥̞̱̫ͬͨ͂͊͛ͣ ̤̱̞̫̞̆̔́͋ͥl̥̙̻̤̟̭̳̉ͯ̏̂̀̔̊ͅi͓̭͇̞̘̘̼͚̟̯͛͂ͪ͗̚f͖̜̔ͩ͛̈́ͥͦ͋͊͐ͤ͛ê̺̤͔͔̖̞͚̯̐͗́̈̄̽͋͆͗ͅͅͅf̬̩ͣ́͐̏̒o̫͈̠͖̻͚̱ͫͭ̔ͬ̄̒͆r̳ͬ̒m̥͈͇̄̑͌̅̽ͤ̃̋ͣš̖̺͇̝̰̥͎̜̯̟̳̒͆͌̍ͪͩ͋͛̚.̖̭͇̮͙̬̠͙̦ͧ̓ͩ̓ͨ̎̆ͧ̽̉ͅͅ

She drummed her fingers against the crystal as she continued to watch.

Tap tap tap.

The powers that she was watching were starting to make more sense now. Once, she had simply watched, simply perceived and taken it all in, now she felt far more in control. She could speculate on how the powers worked to her heart's content, watching the videos and wondering whether her power would even be able to interact with them. Could she, for instance, negate those discs of light if they hit her? They would do nothing to her legs if she dissipated upon hitting glass, but would she be cut once and then become immune to them?

If, with time, she could become immune to more and more powers, what was her capacity for growth?

Was her power weakened by having to fight off the crystal?

Another video. A man who needed to drink blood before he could activate his breaker state and transform into some manner of half-man, half-vampire bat creature. He was a villain, although a small timer who did not really contribute much to his home city's Cape scene.

It was a shame that her power could not really do more to help her be a Hero.

In a hazy state between being awake and asleep, she really did wish she could do more.

̱͖̦̜̖͎ͨ̍̓̃ͥͬP̬̹̫̳̼̞ͮͣ̿ͅa̼̬̫͙͇̯̭͕͉̠ͮ͒ͫͅr͚̙̃͐͂̾̏͒͐ͩ͒̊̌ͧa̯̬͕̲̰͕̮̤̯̝̼ͯ́̌̑͌ͮ̑̄̄d͈̩̗̰̰̺̜͍̟͛ͅị̦̟̪̯̳͔͙ͫǧ̟̗̩̝͈̝̐̔ͤ̿̒ͣ̄m̥̗̖̹̰ͫ́͒͑ͯ̔͂̅ ̥̮̬̿̆ͥ́̐͑̽̐̚Ï͇̮̤̫̬̽͋̔̋̈́n͎̮͛̈f͚̼̜͇̦̣̠͍̺̃̐̔̊̽ͣ̂̂̃͌l̖̮̻̲̐̊ͨa̙̳̙̤͉̠͔ͪ̉ͪͦͭͫ̚t̖̝̝̼̗̼̖̼̖͑̇̔i̭̤͕̎͐͆̄ͪͧ̓o̼̠͒ͭn̬̠̖̮̥͎̈́̄̎ͪͬͅ:̪ͯ͗ͨ̓ ̼̜̫̦̿́̎ͪ̓ͭ̄̃̓E̬̝͍̝̜͋́̆̉̏͋̉c̣̭͈̙̹̖͔̾͊h̯̫͕̺̞͖͔̮̖̩̳̹ͮ̒ͯ̾͆̈͒o̖̻͛̏ͤ͌́̓ͨ̂͆͌̊̚l̖ͥͪ̽ͅo̘̜̮̲̝̼̺̠̻͙͊͑̊̄̉̌̈́̾͂̾c͕̯̞̤̼͎̦͈͚̳͂ͤ̑͑a͕̺̻̤ͨ̃̌͊̆ͯ̏̚t̟͉̗̝͉̖͎̠͇̙͎̄ȉ̗̠̻͙̠̠̟͎̞͖͐͑o̥̟ͭͩn̦̲̙͚̤͛ ̗̭͈̯̠͕̞̥̦͉̎c̪̊ͫ͂ͥͧ̉̓̂̆o̟ͯͣ̒ͯ̿͗ͥ̐m͕͚͕̝̩̙̪͔̻̆ͮ̈́̊b̪̜͚̬̰͌̔ͯ̅ͥͤͪ͋i͔͓͇̺̪ͬ͆̓̂ͧ̂͒̒ͣͅn̼͍̩̰̼͔̞͆͒̈̂e͙̙̖̙ͣ͛̄́ͭ̊ͬ̐ͭ̉̚d͎̥̖̺̣̰ͣ͂͐ͭͩ͆ͨ̐ ͕̥̤̞̥͈͇̟͕̐ͧͫͮ͆͊͋w͈̤̬̪̖̰͖̺̜̝͍̃̿ͅi̠͐̌̾ͮ͊ͭ̑͐͗̈́t͍̣̰̀̓h̼̤̣̩̳̘͎͙̮̺̗ͨͬͧ̋ ̠͓͕͍̞̠̱̱̣ͫ̿ͤͤ̋ć̦̯͎̩̝͎̪̠̱̠̿̾̾͑̀̄̌ͫͮ͐ͅͅh̬͇̪̮̻͚͇̟ͬ̀̆̎̊̑̔́ͨͪ͒̑ͅi̱̮̹̫̠͎͉ͣͧ̆̊͗̈͐̊r͚̜̝ͣͬͤ̂̀ͬ͂ͦo̠̼̺̪̞̖̮̯̻͙̼ͮ̈ͣ̈́̈p̼̭͎͇̝̭̼͙̑ͣ͒̆ͤͩ̌̚ͅt̩̞͎̣͓͙̰͇̪̔̐ẻ̞̹̆͐͋͐ͦ̽̐̚r͔͈̦̝ͪ̓̍ͥ͒͒ȁ̪̪̺̰͕̭̙̦n͍̱̹̝̥̈ͦ̃̄̃̈́ͮͯ̐ͯ̚ ̟̪͚͆̄̈́͆ͥ̊̏̓ͦ̿ͅb͇̽̀̊͒ͮ̃͑̃ͭ̀͒i̭̤̠̙̹̲̣̤̻̋o̰͖̹͈͉̲̤̝̺̟̒ͧ͋͊͐l̟̤̳͔̼̯̝̲̳̰̠ͧo̗̪̰̖̜͙̼̤̞̙̤̘͂ͫg̻̘̦̺̰̲̐ͤ́̓y̱͓̓̃̓̉̃̓͐̽͊ͤ̚,̼̲̎ ̖̼̫͊l͕̟̬̭̠̦̱͇̱̿͆ͧ̉̌̓͋̋ͬ̋î͍̞͖͖̃̽m̹͓̱̤̘̖̜̟̻̤̂̒̎̈́̏͗ͧ́̒ỉ̙̩̜̺̌ͧt̳̣̱͐̒̄̋̀̍ͤ͐ḛ̳̹̹̠̝̯͕̗̠̬̾̔ͩ̓ͥ̆ͪd͇̰̳̰̬͕͗̑͋ ̤͉͉̇̈́f̝̻̫̠̳ͩ̔̈ͦ̎͌̄ͭ͌̚l̼̟͍͊̎ͪͬ̇̂̅̑i̪̖̝̯͉͙͎̲̭̱̹̎ͮ̔g̳̩͔͙̭͇̙͉̠͎͓̪̅h͓͖̘̦̬̱̼̹̱̦͍̺͌ͩ́̉ͯ̑͊ͯ̐̄ͫ͗t̯̯̗̺͙̼̤͖̰̩͎ͥ̃̿ͅ.̣̖̳̦̻̦͍̤̪͕ͪ̽̆͋̃ͫ̇̔ ̘̳̝̈̽ͣ͐ͩͩ͗Ḅ͍͍̼̙̘̱̟̪̐l͔̏͛ͭ͒ö̪̹̻̲̞͈̞o̯̜̲̟̺ͨ̌̾̐ͬ̊̅̚d̪͓̟̺͍̭̩̩̯̩̾̃̃̿̆̍ͨͨ̏̿͊͒ ̰̜̮͕͎̺͉͈̮̝̻͑̿̅͆͊͒̋̉ͮ̎͂ͅb͙̱͔̞̫̖͙̟̣̬̪ͦͣ̈a̝̗̯̲̖̬̲̯͒̋̋ͩs̳̯͎̥̱͖̬̱͔̼̣͇̉̄e̳͚̪͙̜̼̯͗̆ͨͩ́͑̚d̻ͥͬ̎ͮ̂ ̙̲̦̈́ͥ͌̇͊͒̄̾̋ͅ

(Paradigm Inflation: Echolocation combined with chiropteran biology, limited flight. Blood based)

d͔̬̤̰̋͑͛̊̄ͩi̙̰̥̖̼̠̰̤͓̼̥͆̀̑̓ȅ͚̬̙̩̳̱̠͔̘̝̅͋̈͂t͖̱̞̯̲͈ͩ̔̄(͍̟̻̹̗͈̼̊ͫ̾ͬ̐ͯ͑̏?̬͕̘͓̰̰̩̟̺͕̋̉ͦ̂͛̃ͦ͛̇ͅ)̥͍̜̝̮̼͈̮͕̹̙̥̓ ̝̯̱̼͎̯͉͚͌f͓͇̥̤̖̣̻̻̜̮̄͗͌̅̓̄͑ͨͯͩ̚å͈͖̰̗̮ͯ̈ͫ̀̾ͮ̆̐ͫ̇ͅc̭̙̦͙̪̞͍̘̙͕̠̼ͨ̾̑̄i͕̹̿̄̅̍̔̀l͇̹̠̯̮̞̲̦̰̝̹̇̍̑ͩ̾ͬͭ̆ḭ̤͈͈̬͕̾̏ͮ̐͛ͮ̓͑ͮṫ̲̫̯͂ͣ̓̚ḭ͈̖̱̘̬̘̣̱̬̉̌̒a̦͓̜̠͚͈̩̦ͤͮͯ̓͊͊ͬ̊ť̗̏̀̄̒̎̏̉̄ͭ̆ͬẻ̺͉̞͉͔͂̆ͭ͐͂͋̈́̈́̈́ͯs͖̯̜͇͈͐͂̑̌ͪ͐̎ͨ ̺͚̮͉̋ͩͯl̥͍̖̩̽̃̍͛̒ͯ̅̒̇̄̌i͖͚͉̖̻̭̤ͦ͑̉̈́̌̐ͪ͌̋̚m̜̥̣̩̳̖̭͍͇͚̖̟̃͛́̾i͈̩ͯͦt̺̩̝̺̻͈͗̽͊e̼̭͙̲̜̫̘̠̻͆͐͌̾̄̓ͨͪͭḍ̜̈́ ͔͙̱̗̪̤͚͇͖̤̩̝ͨͫͪ͊ͨ̒ͥ̔͒ͪͥb͙̓͛ȓ̼͕̣̟̲ͤè̜̣̺̐̀ͯ̈́ͥͣ̔͌ä̰̘̦̳͈̪͔͙̩͚k̲͖̰̠̱̺̥̘͍͉͎ͩ̈ͦ̀̽̉̒ẽ̥̼̠̳͂̎́ͦ̎ͧ̿͂̅ͨ̓r͓͓̞̖͔͎͐́̽̏ͫ ͙̺̙̗̄̌̾̅͌̇̂̾́͊ͬ̈́f̦̣̣̼̠̐͗ͧ̌ͭȯ͎̙̦̬̟̪ͯ͆͛̈ͤͮ̎ͧͪr̯͖̪̮̃ͤm̦̩̖̜͇̒͐͆̆.̟̜̮̯̺̪͆̑̉͗͊̓

(died(?) facilitates 'Breaker form)

D̝̓r͎͆o͔̊n͉̅e̲͛ c͎ͬo̜̊n͕͛n̜̈́ë̺c̻͆t͖͌ī̜o͎̔n̫̋ ř̠e̯̓q̭̐ů̟ě̯s͔ͣt͓͋i̼̔n͙̄ğ̳ a͓ͫd̪̒d̗ͥǐ̲t͙͑ī̮o̤͒n̗͒ȧ̫l͙̎ ć̻a̜̽p̦̋a̼̔c̗̐ì̜t̟ͮi̲̊e̜̒s̩̊

(Drone requesting additional capacities)

R̯͋ē̝̞̤͇̙̼ͪ́ͦ̾ͅq̥̯̪̳̖̭̦̰̩͚ͩ̀̂̄ͫ̑͆̔̆ͅủ̟̍ͪ̍̇̒ͫ̍̚e̺̬̥̬̲̫̖̺̝̺ͩ̆̾̍s̩͓͈̝̃̍ͯ͑̾͂͛t̩͖̟̝͎͕̏ͪ̉̎̓͆͆͑̈́ r̹͖̤̝͚̜̤̱̫͚ͦ̒̄ͨ͆̍̓ͅe̙̟͔̗͎̘̍̀͛̋̔̉ͦj̥̻͔̱͊̋̔̂̇e̥̹͑͛̀c͕̱͙̣̤͌t̹ͬe̟̰ͯ̊̐̉͑̒͒ḋ̙̼̝ͯ;̣̪̦̇̎͒̉ͤ̚ i͈̞̱̳͕͕͓̩̓ͪͮ̓̚n͔͉͇̞͚̬̋̈́ͧ̌s̯̳͊͑i͇͖̳͔̤͓͒̔̓͑̓͌̏ͨ̚g͎̻̗̰̣̞̯͔̟̯̈́̆̃̇ͥ̓̀̑ͮ͆ͫn͖͖̹̹̋̓ͫ͗i̤͍̗̟͕͉ͩ̍̌͛̓ͅf͚͇͖̤̮ͤ̉ͦͦͮi͕̙͈̱̾̔ͬ̽̎ͫ̄͊͌͊c̭̟̻̙͍̺̻̑̓͌̎ȁ̱͙̜̦͖̻̲͉̺̘̻ͭ͑ͮ̑̍ͤ͆̃͛ͣn̰̰͍͇̺̼̰̪̻̫̆ͪͥ͐ͮ̄ͣt̙̠͉̔̀̂̐͋͋ͧ͋ͪ r̭͎̜̩͔̖̖̮͎̰ͤ̋̔͑̎̅ͤͩͅis͓͓̻͔̰͚͉̟̣͌͐̍̌̓ͅk̼͓̬̭͖͕͚̝̟̅̾ o̫͙͈͙̜̹ͫͧͤ͆̉͌̊ͭͦͬͅf̝̥̦͍̬͈̠̟̬ͯ̌̅ͅ c̼͕̪̰̟ͯͦ̄͊̀o̠͓̟̝͊̾̆̀̾ͮṉ͓͑ͬͅf̣̭͉͈̖̖̭͊̊̓̆l̰̤̪̹͛͗̀͒̏͆͒i̖͇̫͈͓̪̖̭̻̙ͣͣ̏̀̍̇ͩ̋ͨ̔̈́c͈͔̯̲̱̣͎̲̘͑͐͑̾͋͋͆͐ͪẗ̜̫̹̗͙̊̄ͪ͌̆̆͆͌͑ͅ

(Request rejected; insignificant risk of conflict)

D̰̽r͇ͫō̟n̳̒e̖̓'̝ͩs̜͋ ̻ͣa̖͗b̠̐î͉l͖̂i̟͋ẗ̻́i̲͒e͈ͦs͖͆ ͕̓ĩ͈n͉̒s͈̔u̞ͫf̬̑f̘̍i̟ͬc͈̽i̩̎ē̮ň̪ť͚ ̭̋t̹ͫő̰ ̜ͫp͕ͬr̯̈́o̤̚t̬̒ĕ͇c̤̀ṭ̓ ̟̉S͕̓ÿ̗m͈̅b̭̑i̺̅o͔̓ṫ̰i͈ͥč͓-̱ͥc̖̈o̲͐n̫̈v̗̇ḙ̃r͈ͥs̭̋i̹ͨo̾ͅń̠ ͔̔m̼̎a̹̽t͉̾e̼͒ȑ̖i̦ͯa̲̽l̬̿.̲ͭ ̞ͪ'͕ͬḞ͔A͉̓M̞̈́Î̟L̝̏Y̫̐'͇̿ ͓̋ä̭n͉̽d̳ͥ ͙̑'̤͗S̟͐U̥͐P͈̄Ë̠R͙̓I̼ͫO͖͊R̮̈́S̘ͣ'̠ͩ ̖́p͕̐l̳̔a͔̔n͕ͯn̰ͣi̝̓ň͕g̳̎ ̮̆ŕ̖ẹ̒m̖̓o̟ͬv̪̍a͉̓l͖͆.̟̚

(Drone's abilities insufficient to protect Symbiotic conversion material. 'Family' and 'superiors' planning removal)

T̠̰̠͙̺̺̥̖̎ͨͪ̐͋̈ͣ̂̐͋h̘̜̞̙͔̹͙̙̮̳̟͈̒ͯͨ̓̋͗͐̓̅̿r͇̟̣͙̰̖̘̲͕͚͊̓͒͒ͮͭ̈̊̾̍̉̊ḙ͍͕̜̼̫̍̅ͣ̈̿̈́ͧͣ̽ͣ̽ǎ̟̜̹͂̇t̙̟̰͖̱͎̬͚̓̐ͮ̏̈́͌̔ ͎̹͙͖͕̪͇̗̂ͥ̉̚i̤̹̭͇͒͒͗̐̾̂̒̅͂̇n͎͓̗͗̀ͪͬͨ͌̐s͓̠͕̑̊̽ͯͣ̏͆̓͆̇̄ͦǐ͇̼̳̹̦̼̳̞̻̥̦̽ͥͥg̫͕̳͕͚̳̰̉̅͆ͩn̗̅i̫͙̲͙̦̝̟̣̬̤͙̲̋̏͗ͭͩ͆͊̎ͧ̈̔ͥf̥̈i̪͙̘͕̪̱͕ͨ͂ͣ͑͂̋ͣͣͤ̀ͅc͙͔̜̻͓̼͖͚̜͒̊̒̎̋̆̉ͣͭ̊̆ͫͅͅa͓̻͚͉̱̬̫̙̰͈͇ͪ̏̉͆ͧͤ̋ͯ͗̉̚ͅn̯͓͔̹̰̦̘̼̮̲̉̊̅ͦͬ̏̚ͅt̳̝͔͕̩̆ͭ̃ͫ̅ͭͭ̏.̹͕̟͖̫̣̤͙̱͇̌̈́̅̀̔͌ͧ́̔͒ ̖͍̺̯͓̺̼̥͙͆̊ͧ̓͗̃ͬͣ̆P̙̝̥̪͍̫̟̲̰̭̓ͧͭͩ̄ͣͨ̿ͥͫ͗ͯř͕͖̰ͤì̮̥͎͕̹͙ͭͦ̾̉̓̅m̝̪͚̱̠̭̹̬͇̳͊ͮ͊̓̀ͅi̮̲͑́ͅt̼̮͚̘̭̬̑̀͆ͨ̄̓̎ͅi̬͕̻̻͕̤͑̌̋ͤ̾͆ͮͮ̍̃ͩv͙̄̉e͙͉̱̱̺ͩͩͤͥ̍̔̓̚̚ ̹̪̮̗̄̈̉ͅm͉̈́̾̒͑͑͒ͯ̃e͖̤̙͚͒ͨ̊̂̓̑̉̈͆ͦt͇ͫh̯͖̺̓͐̇̉ͭõ̠̼̣̳̗̠̲͖̫̘̋̔ͭ̓̚̚d̘̣̖̳̊̐ͮs̖̪͇͉̈́͐̓ͭ̔̐͐̅̍̑͒ ̹̊̈́̍ͦ̒i̟̪̰͕̙̼̺͖ͮ̔͗̿͗̐̇̈́̋ͥn͇̱̬͇̳̼͍̝̝̬ͫ̂̀ͥͤ̂ͨͅs͈͕̰̟̝̭̻͓ͤ͗̊̏͛ͫ̈̽͌u̼̰͙̎̅̓ͨ͂̎̋̐̏̈́̈ͣf̱̯ͥ̂͆̿̈ͨ̏ͤ̽̎ͤ͗f̬̟̞̜͕̖͆ͥ̆ͨͥ͂ͦ̆̊̚i̘͔̖̰̘̬̳̗̭̟̠̻͂ͬ̀̓̄̐̑ͫͬ̚c̩̠̩̣̥̜ͨͩ̔̿̽ï̝̤̩͖̯̟̟̺̘̣̝̔̈́ͭ̓̔̾̋ͤä̯̰̩͚̱̝͕̮͇̫͓̬́ͥ͌̄ͤ͒̀̀ͯ͛̚̚n̟͖̥̱̲̭̖̲͈͓̱̄ͪ͆͌̃̄t̜̖̗̜̓͐̒.̤̫̺ͮͫ̔̋͑̀̎ͥ̚ ̣̙̩̤̤̈́͗ͣ̋̃͒ͫ̉ͤ͆̅ͭC͖̝̞ͯ̑̍ͅo̪̦̳̫͈͇̓ͮ͒n̗̺̣̹̹̰̳̼̹͖̟̔̅̓ͬͫͪ̈́̉͋͋̈́v̼̩̯͚̣͍̹̻͔͙̩̏͂̓̎̎̉̉ͦ̇̓é̖̪̠̰̺̑͒͂̐ͦ̓͊̀̿͗r̝͍͉̱͉͍̘̗̄̓̊͛̉ͣ̓̚s̳̪͈̯ͩ̔̏̎ͩͫ̓͋ͦ͐i̫̜̫̻͚̩͍̲͖̮̫̲̊͑̅̇̎ö̲͇̝̤̬̯͉̬͙̻̜̗́̽ͩ͑̑̈̃n͉͖̮͕̗̗̤̺͈̝̎ͅͅ ͍̭̘̮͓̥͖͖͎̪͎͛o̖͙͙̖̘͍̗̠̝ͪf̗̱̗̙̤̜̭ͦ̄ͣ̃ͅ ̝͛̌̋̽͆͊̔̈́̐ͭ̚n̰͚͔ͨ̄a̯̲ͦ̊t͕͙͇ͫͮ̔i̜͈͍̙̮͉̙̬̞̞ͤ̒ͥͪ͗ͫ̚v͍͚̱͔̲̹͔̥̟̗̻̈́͋ě̬͗ͥ̈́̀̿̊ͧ ̦̻̠̝͍̝̙͙͎̳̜ͧ͌͗̊̇ͤͧ̔̈́̀l̘͚͇̦̤̯͈̟̗ͯ͌̀̀̋̒ͥ͂͒̌ͅi̖̲͎̝̥̯͛͊͌̋ͨ̅̑̂̚f̟̖̺̟ͬ̅ͭ͊̂̉͐ͮ̒ͯë̩͎̆͌̍̌ͫ̋̀̓f͇̰̪͉̱̯̀ͭ̓̍o͔̬̣͇̤̹͖ͤ̐̿̽͊ͦͦr̦̼͎̝̯͈̹͎͍͕̟͐͊ͭ͂ͮ̆ͦm̖̆̓͌ ̣̼̞͙̱͚̫̦̰̋ͩ͒̿͑ͪͫͬ̅̔̉i̟̥͕̬̜͙̱̪̹͆ͩ͒͊̇ͫͥ̚ͅn̖̮̼̗̜̼̪̲̥̲͎̒ͮͤͥ̀̊̐ͮͨ̓̉e̦͈̻͇͕͔͖̗̩̞͐ͯ̒̐̓ͅv͍͖̜͇̝̪̎ͩ̌͋͗̾̾̒i̬̙̯̩̭̬̗̠̬̤̠͓ͦ̈̓̓̒̎̾ẗ̪̹̻̞͇̟͈̪̩̰̬̫̉̋͗̿ͬ͛ͤ͑͐a̘̜̞̠̯̓ḃ͓̱͕͗ͥͫ̇͒̄̿͗̊ͤl̹ͣͤͣ͐̎ͯͨ̓̐̊̓͂ĕ̦͍̫̪͚͕̫̍ͯ͒ͤͯ/̤̟͖̜̜͓͎̦ͧͥ̎ͩ͒͑̈̒ͧͅp̗͍ͤ̌̆̓̓ͭͥ̋ͣ̅r̜̥͖͙̰̟̞̠̱͑̏̊̂̉̅ͬͥ̀ͮ͒̎ͅi̤̮̭̝̮͚͔̺̟̓̎͗ò̻̍͒ͣ̅̋̎ͨͪ̒r̝̥̼̤̘̯̫̠̍͒ͤͮ̏̿ͥ̓̊ͬͪ̚i͍̼ͬ̎̃ͬ̿ͣ̚t̺̮̪͇̫̻̮͆̂̃̂y̥͎̽̈́̔͌͗̊ͯ̒̋̔.̝ͨ̄̂͛̓ͫ̓͐

(Threat insignificant. Primitive methods insufficient. Conversion of native lifeform inevitable/priority)

Barely awake, Taylor ended up curling up on her chair, slowly falling asleep in a tangled mass of limbs with her head poking out of the blanket cocoon she had made. 

She felt better now. Assured.

Whatever happened, she would be fine. Maybe it was simply that she had sufficiently distracted herself from reality, unhinged herself from her present worries about the implications of losing her legs.

For hours she had been searching, learning. Perhaps it was not wise before a school night, but she did not feel concerned. All concerns had slipped away now. This felt natural, the vast reams of data and video that she had consumed, it was a heady distraction that did not require complex thinking.

It did not matter where she slept, she would wake up the next morning in perfect condition anyway, whether she chose to admit and think about it or not. 

But she didn't, because that would be a tacit admittance that for the longest time, she really had not been normal.

To the song of distant stars and supernovae, she slept.

It was whilst sitting with Emma the next day at lunch that the next curveball in Taylor's life came, in the form of a message on the PRT issued phone that she was required to keep on her person at all times. Whilst it had settings to remain silent for the majority of non-essential messages and calls, its loud 'ding!' filled the air, interrupting her and Emma's conversation about the perks of ketchup over mayonnaise.

Glancing down at it, Taylor shrugged awkwardly at her friend.

"Sorry, just give me a sec." 

Emma did not mind, she simply nodded and returned to her sandwich.

Much of the morning’s conversation had been very stilted, apparently Alan Barnes had made a similar proposal to Emma as her father had to Taylor, except that the man had made no bones about it, Emma was getting the new legs. But unlike Taylor, her best friend seemed... relieved by it. She had clearly been crying a bit, even if the redheads' ever impeccable make up disguised the vast majority of the indicators, Taylor knew them well.

Taylor took up the phone and, a little self-conscious about somebody possibly reading it over her shoulder, looked down at the message whilst keeping it close to her chest.

M.M : Hello Ordinant, please report to Director Piggot's office for tomorrow at 5:30 PM

Taylor stared at it for a few moments, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Was it about her legs? Had she done something wrong in the last few days? How could she, for the last week for all her shifts all she had really done was work on console liaising between the patrols... well that and the one patrol with Shadow Stalker and Vista. But they did not even run into any trouble! 

Did she mess up on the console?

Biting her lip, she began typing back.

Ordinant : Okay, I will be there. Do I need to bring anything?

Did she need to bring anything? What sort of question was that, what could she possibly bring that the PRT would not be able to provide?

M.M : No, just yourself will do!

A meeting with Director Piggot, she wondered what it would be about? She resisted the urge to reach down and touch her legs for support. Everything would be okay, right?

Chapter Text

Director Piggot was rather intimidating for a woman shorter than Taylor and, likely, quite a bit heavier even factoring in Taylor's armoured outfit. Her lips, pursed, seemed ready to chew her out for some wrong that she was not even sure she had performed, and her desk was both well-organised but also covered with far too much work to possibly be completed in a day.

"Ordinant."

"Hello director, um, ma'am."

"Just director will do," was the prim response.

This was only her second or third time meeting the woman, those steel grey eyes were so intense! 

Was... was this going to be about her legs?

"Now then, I've called you here because Parahuman Science would like to perform something of an experiment with your power," the Director glanced down to a piece of paperwork. Oh, so this wasn't about the potential for amputation? 

Why did that bring such a wave of relief? 

"Have you ever heard of Grey Boy?"

Who hadn't! She had had nightmares when she was younger about that Parahuman, plenty of folks did, the utter horror that the dead psychopath had unleashed on others was worthy of legend, the world was a better place for the member of the Slaughterhouse Nine being dead. Well, it would be better with all of them dead and erased from the world, but still, Grey Boy was a go-to example of an unrepentant, evil psychopath for a reason.

"Y-Yes ma'am."

"Some people think that you might be able to help his victims. It's something of a long shot, but frankly the PRT has been trying and failing to help them for years without much success."

Wow.

What... What did she say to that?

"I... um, thank you ma'am. How will this all work?"

"If you consent to it, the nearest victims are in Boston. The PRT will take care of transport and accommodation, and you would be temporarily 'on loan' to them for a few days to see if you can help. Does that sound agreeable to you? We will also be consulting your father if you give your approval before any formal agreement is made."

Consulting him, just like how they consulted him about chopping off a few of her limbs---

But if her weak, mostly useless little power could help people who were victims of Grey Boy...

She had a duty to help them! Strange, she almost felt... excited to see the effects of one of the most horrific parahumans ever to blight the face of America. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity, like watching a car crash on video? But still.

Taylor swallowed.

This... was something she had not been expecting.

"If I can help, then I'll help, ma'am."

The Director nodded. 

She did not even look enthused or happy at the prospect of Taylor potentially helping those people, or was this some sort of office politics thing that Taylor did not fully understand? 

Humans could be so weird.

By the time Taylor left the office, her mind was swimming. 

The Director had said that it was a long shot, so she should not get her hopes up, but if she could help the victims of Grey Boy... 

Numb, Taylor made her way back down to the Wards quarters and into the room that had been set aside for her, and took a seat on the bed. 

A half-used sheet of sticky back stars sat on the pillow; she had been decorating in the lead up to the meeting with the Director. Now she had other things on her mind, she couldn't focus on completing Ursa Major.

She had been to Boston as a child with her mother once, it had been a nice weekend away, although she struggled to remember much of it. 

Would she have any chance to explore the city a bit, or would it all be business? Perhaps this would be a pleasant distraction from her recent troubles.

Still...

Taking out her phone, Taylor stared at the dark screen. Should she call her father and Winslow to let him know, or let the PRT's agents and staff take care of the matter? She did not have many people to inform about what might be going on... she would leave the more official stuff to the PRT.

She turned on the phone and began typing a message to the people that would be missed out.

Taylor : Hey Ems, they want me to go to Boston for a few days.

Could she say much more than that? Probably not, but she wanted to. Emma was her best friend, she deserved to be kept updated, they had not been apart for more than a few days in the last few years, what if she had a depressive episode or a breakdown? Taylor was her person to speak to when that happened, as one of the few people who could really understand what she was going through in those moments. 

Emma did it for her as well when it occurred.

Biting her lower lip, Taylor waited for a response, only for one to not come.

Would Emma be angry at her? 

She shook her head. Emma was her best friend, she would be okay for a few days right, and if things went badly, then Taylor now had a phone, they could talk! Everything would be okay.

Whilst she was at it...

Opening PHO, she began sending a message to a group she and Emma were in. It had started as something of a support group for crystallisation sufferers... although it had shrunk quite a bit by now to just seven of them. 

She sent a similar message to them as she had to Emma:

LittleOwl : Hey guys, going to be away for a few days, but I'll be back soon, just wanted to let you guys know.

CreateRandom : Okay, stay safe!

Ra1ndrops : Hey, take care, Taylor!

Joe, CreateRandom, and Aimee, Ra1ndrops.

Both were in wheelchairs now, unlike the other three who were almost fully paralysed.

For the moment she left it there, Emma still had not replied. 

Anxiously, she sat a few moments more, then got up. 

She would distract herself until either the redhead did so or something came up for her to deal with, she was not scheduled to be on console or patrol tonight, did they call her in purely for that meeting? That was a little frivolous, really, inefficient. 

With the sticky back stars in hand, she continued her decorating, removing her helmet so that she could see properly.

Ursa Major was completed, she would need a stepladder for Draco though, it was such a long constellation, even if it was folded up on itself.

The next few minutes were taken up with her work, before the phone went off, and she hurried to check it.

Emma : Why do they want you to go to Boston Tay?

Taylor : Stuff to do with work. I am not sure if I can talk about it right now if it's all approved, I'll ask!

Emma : Is typing...

Work was the excuse they had come up with to discuss Ward stuff, even with the phone being secure. It paid to be safe with these things, after all.

Emma stopped typing for a few seconds, then it started up again.

Emma : Okay, keep your phone on though!  I might die of boredom if you are away for too long.

Taylor : I will, don't worry!

She breathed a sigh of relief. Emma would be fine without her. 

So long as her father allowed this excursion of Boston then she would be able to go, and maybe, just maybe, she would be able to put her power to some good use.

Agent Coleson was looking over papers.

The several hour drive to Boston had mostly been spent in silence between the members of the small group. The driver was focused on the road whilst Coleson, who was acting as the official in charge, was looking over all the paperwork as they went. There was a PRT trooper sat beside her with a gun, it was like she was a prisoner being transported. 

The idea somewhat worried her, sending a spike of anxiety through her chest. 

Irrational notions of 'what if they lied to me?' and 'are we actually going to Boston?' kept coming to her unbidden, despite her best efforts to distract herself.

She stared out the window as they went, watching the trees and the cars zooming past. It was a hazy, overcast sort of day, they hit rain about halfway to Portland. 

The PRT van was unmarked for security, but as Taylor sat there, she wondered idly just how safe it was. Would anybody try to attack them?

Some groups would potentially be very interested in hijacking them or taking a Ward into their possession. She had not thought of it beforehand, but it certainly explained the security.

As they headed south, at a point, she became intensely aware that they would be driving vaguely towards and past the Crystal Valley. 

Even if it was miles away into the hills, into the forests, hidden away from view, it was still there. Especially now, with the exclusion wall and constant PRT presence. There was no chance that she would be able to see it directly, right? But she could sense it, with each minute that passed they got closer and closer, she could feel like it was off to the side. 

If she were to get out of the van now, she would be able to walk in a perfectly straight line right to it without the help of directions or a map.

The point of her legs where flesh met crystal was aching.

The sudden wave of longing had her putting her head between her knees, it was the same feeling as being at the edge of a tall building, that sensation of being at a precipice, of attempting or admitting something she really shouldn't. Of course, she didn't want to go there! That was insanity, it would be her death---

"Are you okay, Ordinant?" it was Coleson.

"S-Sorry, just got a little motion sick," she lied automatically.

Coleson offered her a bag.

There was a tingling sensation going up her back, a hot flush, a stress response... but she could not help but imagine it as dozens of spider legs crawling slowly yet inexorably up her body.

The sensation did not dissipate until they had driven past the nearest point in the road to the Valley, and for a half hour afterwards. It was stupid of her to entertain these thoughts, but to dwell on it. It was just a trick of her mind, her past trauma combined with some sort of survivor’s guilt, right? The eternal; 'what if you had been one of the ones to die instead of someone else?'

When she brought her head out from between her knees, she took a breath, thanked Coleson and resolutely stared out of the window at the passing countryside.

She would not dwell on it.

The Boston PRT building was quite a bit larger than the one in Brockton Bay, and upon their arrival there was a flurry of introductions.

A man in his late thirties, dressed in a suit with an easy-going smile and a somewhat scuffed PRT Identification badge, offered a hand to her.

"Hello there, you must be Ordinant. I am Agent Mackey, I'll be the one overseeing your time here and your liaison with the Boston Wards, did you have a good drive?"

"Yeah, it was alright. Not much to see, the rain was quite bad."

"Heh, I imagine it's even worse up in Brockton Bay, being further up the coast?"

"You get used to it."

A laugh, the ice broken between them.

"Alright, we're supposed to dive straight into a big meeting with you at once, but to be honest, I imagine you might want to grab a drink and something to eat? Oh, and we have some temporary quarter's ready for as well, hopefully you will be alright sharing them with our Wards for a few days?"

"I think that'll be fine," she did not want to cause any trouble, after all.

After a somewhat brief, stilted lunch, Taylor and Coleson sat at a table in an office with Mackey and a woman that she did not recognise from before. In a way, the newcomer reminded Taylor of Director Piggot, a no-nonsense sort squeezed into a suit a size too small. 

Also, how did the PRT have so many bland as bread offices in their buildings? When she was a girl, she always imagined that they would have big command centres like in the movies, with some big boss man shouting demands and watching a screen showing complex information that really did not make much sense to the average person. 

But a lot of it was all so mundane, even here. She was almost disappointed. 

Maybe the big-wig command centres were in like... DC, or New York?

The woman introduced herself.

"Hello, I am Jennifer Smith, the head of the Boston PRT's Youth Guard team."

"Thank you for having us. I'm agent Coleson, and this is Ordinant."

"Nice to meet you."

"I was not aware that we would be having Youth Guard supervision for this, I must admit," Coleson said, although if he was surprised, he did not sound it. Instead, he spoke almost as if passing a comment on the weather.

"Seeing how the matter could include exposure to highly traumatising sights, I'll be making sure that everything is in line and all efforts are taken to protect your Ward from them. As best as possible, at least."

"Of course. We're glad you're assisting us with this."

Whether Mackey felt the same was another matter, the man gave little indication either way. Did Boston have permanent Youth Guard members on staff, then? Taylor had not seen any in Brockton Bay, but then again, they were a smaller branch. 

Now that introductions had been made, the Boston native spoke up, taking charge of the meeting.

"Alright then. We all know why we are here but for the sake of the record, Ordinant, several groups have reviewed your file and have put forward the suggestion that you might be able to interact and stop the time-loops created by the former Slaughterhouse Nine member dubbed 'Grey Boy.' Naturally, pretty much all parties are involved in freeing anybody caught in these temporal loops, we've been trying to so since they first became a problem."

Taylor just nodded along. 

"In Boston we have seven people trapped in loops, the Nine only made a quick visit, and we managed to mostly keep folk out of the way. Of those seven, we think that only four can be considered to still be sane, and we're hopeful that if they can be released, they can make a recovery given a lot of therapy and assistance."

"What about the other three?" Taylor asked tentatively.

There was a moment’s silence, and then Mackey took off his glasses.

"If we can release them, and they are fine, then that will be the best outcome... but to be honest, there is every chance that they will never recover mentally. We think at least one might be a case of putting them out of their misery, they've been on fire and repeatedly stabbed for over thirteen years now, every hour of every day," he replied, glancing at Smith. "Sorry, but I am not about to try and sugar-coat it."

"We need to make sure that Ordinant is kept safe throughout," Coleson at once interjected, and Mackey nodded.

"Of course. Ordinant should be perfectly safe."

"Will Ordinant need to be put at risk at all?"

"From what I understand, you have to make contact with a power to become immune to it?" Mackey asked, looking at her.

"I think so. I mean, I became immune to one power when they used it on me."

He nodded.

"We will see if Bastion and other members of the Protectorate here can provide oversight and additional protection. The first one we're going to ask Ordinant to use her power on was deemed one of the more hopeful, at least, she can still talk with us relatively normally despite what is happening to her."

"When are you suggesting that we start?"

"Whenever you're ready, the guys in Parahuman Science are keen to see what will happen, but honestly, if you need more time to settle in and prepare yourself then I won't be complaining. Even with all our efforts, it’s not going to be an easy thing for you to see, Ordinant, Grey Boy was a motherfuck---"

"Ehem, perhaps we should avoid swearing too much around the minor?"

"Ah, apologies, I am more used to speaking with troopers."

Taylor nodded, even as the Youth Guard representative pursed her lips at Agent Mackey's choice of words. 

Everything would be alright, now she just needed to see if she could actually help.

Chapter Text

The woman in the bubble of repeated time was on fire.

Well, within a fraction of a thrown match striking her she was on fire, the wave of flame spread so rapidly that she must have been doused in gasoline, right? No matter her attempt to move out of the way she was closed in by the limits of the time loop, and then the flames would begin, visible to those in the hanger-like structure that had been built around her.

She burned for a few seconds, and then the process would start all over again.

It was... so horrific.

Taylor couldn't look away.

"Is it necessary to expose Ordinant to this?"

"Ma'am, this is a standard way to isolate Grey Boy sufferers... unfortunately we cannot move the temporal bubble and surrounding her with a wall would only make it even more unpleasant for her."

Smith's lips pressed together. 

A situation not to her liking, but also one that could not be avoided.

The trapped woman was looking their way, clearly wondering what was going on, only to be reset and looking back to where she originally was within a moment.

Agent Coleson stepped forward, glancing over the clipboard.

Coleson began to speak, in a stilted manner, to time his words with when the woman was not screaming.

"Miss Elinor Hillridge, I am Agent Coleson of the Brockton Bay PRT. Beside me is Ordinant, a member of the Brockton Bay Ward's---" Did he have to take so long to say all this, the woman was in agony! Half of what he was saying was being drowned out by her screaming! "---We may have a way to break the bubble through the use of her power."

"I, please---" reset. "---help, I'll do anything! I---" reset "---please!"

"If Ordinant beside me is successful, then you must not attempt to assault her, we have fire extinguishers present and doctors ready to assist you. Do you understand?"

"---Yes! Please just---" reset "---do something!"

Coleson looked towards Taylor, and then to Agent Mackey.

"Ordinant, if you would please attempt to use your power."

Suddenly, all eyes were on her. 

Okay... time for her to try, she needed to help this woman. Taylor began walking towards the bubble; she could tell exactly where it started and ended by the dust on the floor, which could not gather within the space of repeated time but did on the outside.

Up close, it was even worse to look at the woman’s expression of agony as the fire started, the wailing began and the loop repeated. The instinctive tensing up in preparation for the next horror, the wide-eyed, frenzied way she looked at Taylor.

Was this how a man being led to the gallows would look towards his salvation, or his executioner?

Around her, troopers were levelling containment foam sprayers their way, alongside others with fire extinguishers. There were also ones with guns, in case things went bad. Taylor had seen people shot and killed in videos, she never sought out that sort of content, but she had watched enough cape fights in those long, long nights when she would obsessively trawl the internet to have seen people die. 

But she had never seen a person die in front of her...

She really, really hoped that today would not be that occasion.

There were also the other capes, one of them, who had introduced himself as Bastion, was even the leader of the local Protectorate. Once she was at the edge of the 'bubble' of the time loop, she was spooked for a moment when translucent force fields suddenly began appearing around her, forming overlapping layers, with the only gap being one wide enough for her arm.

It was obvious what she was to do from here.

Fervently, she hoped that nothing would go wrong.

Taylor reached up and began pressing her hand forward through the gap. It stopped against something, and then she pushed---

P͎̱̰̪̻͈̄̀̓̈͆͑̉ͥ̾͒a̹͇̱͉̪̅ͪ̓́͛̍ͧ͌ͧr͍̯͚̙̳̞ͣ̃͐ͭ͗͆̓̚a̼̖ͥ́̉̓d̖̅̊̓ͅi̮̺̳̮̱̬̳͎̎ͅͅĝ̬̩̣̎̍ͯ̃m͉̱̩̺͗̀̃̑̓͗ͭ ̠̻̮̘̬̈́̈ͧ̾̉I̺̙̐ͨ̇̋̽̄ͩͤ̈n̤̫̰͗̌ͦ̎̿̚f͍̞̱̜̠̫̣̖͛͆̈́̽ͭ͛̈͂ͪͤͅl̯̑ͭ̉̈̓a̠̦̼͍̣̠̼͉̾̄̓͂͗t͖͎͈̣͖̩͒̈ͭͨi͖̯̣̯̟̥͉̳̖̾ͧͮ̾o̬̗͔ͧ͐̃̇ͤn̹̟̝̜ͮ́ͦͭ̐.͓̹̉ͬ̀̓͑ͣͪͩ̑ ͕̱͔̜̙͔̓̆̑̍̈́ͬ͑͊Ǎ̪̤̞̱̳͇ͩͬ̏̓̔͒ͨ̑ͅn͇͚̖͓ͫͮͭ̄͒̄̐͛ͧ̽ͅa͉̋̐̈ḷ͇͎̬̞̻ͦ͑̇͛ͪ̂̆̆͆̏y̪͇̺̲̭̼̗̼͗̽s̮̖͎̬̫̻̜̙͊̊͐̀ͪ̽i̟͎ͪͮ͛͒s̜̣̳̼͚̜͇̅ͮͨ:̰ͯ̈́̐̇̉ͅ ̪͗ͧͤͮ̀ͤỊ͖̬̱̹̹̼͌ͅm̭ͮ͆͒̓m̘ͧ̓̏̑͋ͧͮ̃̏ͥo̬̖ͬͧb̖͉͎̭͕͈̞̆̾̊̇̃ͣͨ̃̚i͖̠̪̝̎ͨ̈́̄l͙̗̪̰̮̄ͧ͋̔͋̔͗̆ͭ̚ė͉͔̭̾ͥ̿̍͆ ̻͔̼͗t̩̠͙̏ͥ̒̍ͨ̔̚ị́͑͋ͬ̾m̺̠̗̤̱͇̣̊̔́̅̓̏̓e͎̠̊ͫ͑̍ ͍̩̟͕ͣ͊̉͛̓ͩl̳̖̱̺͎̻̤̦̭̮̈ͩ͑̓̾̈o̪͚̲͕͈̲͕̓͋̾́̓̆̎ͣ̓o͖͍̗͊ͪͅp͔̭̝͙̮̹ͪ̄͗̌͐ͅ,̮̳̖̮̯̮͖ͪ͛̆̂ ̯ͦṡ̮̫̓͆̎̾̀͊ͯ̊t͓̱̘̱̱͚̜̰̦͎̒ͥ̽ͯ̂̓a̞͍̖̗͕̳̦̯̬ͣ̊͗̈͂̈́̅͒̚b̪͇̪͊ͨ̃ͬͫͬi͍͎̻̦̦̐̒͛l̙̫̈́̀̊ͪì͙̗̪̙̎s̫̙͙͙̟̺͇͑͑̇̐̆ͥe͉̭̫͎̗͍̙̝̫͉͛͛ͭ̏́ͩ̆͒ͮ̈́d͓͕͙̪̘͉̙͙͋̿ͣ͒ͧͭ̚ͅ ̝̦̭͇̪̗̪̜̰͗̆́ͥ̆̆̊́͋͌l̙͓̣͖̲̙͇̪̥̟̑͌̿ͪ̔͑e̫̖̲̯̫̠̺̭̘̐̈̒n͈̠̭͖͉ͤͤ͂̆ͯg̝̲͖̬̪̣̓̎ͨͦt͇͖̰͍̯͙̏̈́̔͌̂͑̍ͅh̗̞̺̬̹͖̲͉̹̀͊͆̑̒ͨ ̬͓͈͕ͤ͑͋ͅà̰̙̰̼̣͍̪͈͍͊ͤͅṫ̼͈̘̖̖̼̮ͯͫͅ ͓̰̱̣̾ͯͯ4͍ͭͮ̐ͩ.͉̫̪͋͊9͖̝̫̯̥͙͕̝ͧ̾̇̓̀ͥͧͥ̑2̲̪͙̤̈̃͌3̫͍̺̭̗͖͖̞̾̍ͪ̓̊̋ ̹͒s̺̮̖͎̮̪̈̐ͩͣ̌ͩe̤̹̝̐͊̈́c̪͓̉͛̔̀ͥ̽͛̐o͖̻͖͔̼̬̱͈ͥ͊̎̚ͅn͚̮͎͚̖̼͎̐̊ͤd̤͈͓̺͓̯̭̜̣̭͐ͧͭ͌ͫ̐͊ŝ͈͉͍̬̮̰̙̬̠̣̇̈́ͩ.̮̦̯̟̖̼̗̹̲͊ͤͦ̓̾̈͐̚

(Paradigm Inflation. Analysis: Immobile time loop. Stabilised length at 4.923 seconds)

Her hand pushed in, she stepped closer to the 'bubble,' as far as Bastion's shields would allow. The match was flying towards the woman, even as her honey brown eyes focused on Taylor. 

Taylor's mouth opened to make a sound as the sensation of pushing past the bubble of time hit. 

The woman set on fire as Taylor's hand paused mid-air.

No, no, why was it not just cancelling it all out? Why could she reach in and not just break it! She had to help this woman, she stepped further in and grabbed at her arm, pulling. Taylor could feel the flames, she tried to pull her out---

Time reset; Taylor's arm gripped empty air.

D̀ͅr̼ͣọͨn̩̅e̱ͯ ̫ͪr͎ͤẻ̖q̠̃ú̙ê̟s̯̚ẗ͓́i̪ͮn͉̐g̪̔ ̯ͬa̳ͫd̦͂ḓ͂i̗̽t͖̔i̜ͥỏ̥n̟͗a͈̿l̺̉ ͎͛c͎̃â̰ṕ̗a͓ͧc̳̒i̠̋t̆ͅi̟ͣë̘s̪̉.̼̄ ͍̍D͙ͮr̻͐o͕͋n͙͌e͙ͫ ̱͗p̞̚o͚̒s̅ͅi̪̓t̯̀s͉ͧ ͉̥̃̌͡͞a̝ͧd͇̒d̼̏ị̾țͩi͉̽ò̻n̥ͯa͙͑l͚̽ ͎̇a̟̓c͉ͨc͎ͧeͥͅș̆s̮͋ ͙̐t̟̃ǒ̘ ͖̅d͔̿a̰͐t͍ͥá͓ ̩͊t̖ͪh̻̚ṛ̓o͚̿u͕ͫg̟ͯḥͬ ̫ͫe͉͂x͎ͭṕ̜à̩n̻̎d̫̓e̼̔ḍ̾ ̬ͪc̩̾ȃ̼p͉̆ä̰c͓̉i̝̾t̠͐y̼͒.͍͒

(Drone requesting additional capacities. Drone posits additional access to data through expanded capacity)

R̲͖̱̻̩̮̦̓̔̄͛ͫ̏̇͒e͎͉͉͇̦͉̯̿̈́͒j̲̳͔̮͂̉͒ͦͮ͒̏e̖̯̳͋ͭ̇ͬ̑̈́̚c̥͖̙̙͒ͣ̇t͉͕̱̰ͣ̓͆ͥ̈́̏e̯͍̦͈̫̪̰͒ͨͬḍ̮̞̥͈̟̹̰̜̣̭̺͑̂ͧͮͩ͑̔͂̅͒̿͗:̼͇͓̭͇̹̽̀̇̑̋͌ͅ ̩͕̫̮͈͓̪̣̙̱́̓ͨ͗D̦͍̰̬̙͉̲̜͓͖̰̯̍̆͛̍̂̏̎̎̋a͈̙̫̖̻͇̟̫̹̗͈͌̋t͕̲̺̠̱̥̐͛̓̾ͨ̎̋͆a̞͐̍͛̃̊͊ͪ͑͆̀ ̯̗̯̝̰̜̬̭̠̗͌͋̀̾̀ͧ̈́ͦ̈́ͯͤͥͅg͖̰͚̰̭̬͚͈̣̺̔͗̄ͅạ͙̱̦̬͒ͧ̿̋̀i͔͚͛̇ͫ͛́n͎͙͓͔̘̘͙͒̓̉ͪ͆̽̎͐ͫe̹̰̙͔̠͇̙̺͙̼ͩ̉̿̃d̖̈̄̃͊ͦ̈̃ͫ̂͋̏ ̞̝̠̭͇̩̰̻ͥ̋̓̂́̽ͮi̺̥̱͙̦̻͂̏̎̍ͧ̈́̔̐ͣ̑̃n̹̜̤͎̱̱̜̲̋̆̽ͅs̼͖̜͇̟̭͍̯̖ͫͯi̻͉̱͇̬̻̳̋ͬͦ̌ͩ̄͑̋̅̋̌̚g̙̰͈͙̙̳͓̗̖̭̲̹ͪͣ̆̊̆̉̂͋ñ̯̦̫̱͇͉̰̎̓͒ͥͤ͗ͯi͓̰͚̟͉̩̹̖͙͍̲̣͊͊ͩ͆̾̑͌ͤ͛̐ͥ̚f͍̘̗̐͂̀̂̏ͯ̅̽ͤ̈́ͮ̚i̙̒̉̿̓͐͆̊̚c̙͎͉̅ͬͮ̈́̈́͐͑ͪͭ̆a͉̙̣̼̓ͫ̍̎ͪ̌͂ͯ̅ͬ̊ͭͅn̳͆ͭ͒̀͆ͬ̈̿ͤ̚̚t̞̼̳͖̭͙͆͊̒ͮ̃

(Rejected: Data gained insignificant)

No no no no---

She had to help! It was the right thing to do. She reached again, tried to pull the poor woman from the bubble even as Taylor half stepped into it, pulling her as quickly as she could only for Elinor to bounce off some invisible barrier, as if the bubble of time greedily wished to keep her inside---

D͕̀r̻ͤo̮ͤn͚̅e̬̐ ȑ̙ḛ͌q͇̔ű̳e̥͛s̝ͭt̪ͮi̬ͩn̪ͥǧ̗ ä͓d̺ͨd̜̐i̞͂t̩͋i͎͌o̹͂ṋ̌a̜͐ľ͉ c̥ͤa̳ͦp͖̆a͈̓c͈̔ī̟t̤ͬi̳͂è̲s̲͛.̩ͯ M͎̑ȏ̰r̪̓a̺ͥḽ̏ ö͓́b̆ͅl̤ͭi͈͊g͉̎a̻̚t̺ͭi͍͐o̥ͨn̪ͬ o̮ͣf̩̓ d̥͋r̰ͨo̼̐n̹ͭeͣͅ.̯̂ E̩͛m͔ͮo͎͋t̫ͣȋ̬o͖͂ṅ̺a͈ͯl̰̋ i̺̓n̜ͥṭ͌e̜ͦg͓͆r͓͆i̯ͫt͖̉y̖ͦ o̥ͣf̳͌ d̜̓r̦̆o̺͐n͍ͯe̹͛ ȁ̺t̟ͦ r̥ͥi͉͌ṣͪk̪̏.̟ͫ

(Drone requesting additional capacities. Moral obligation of drone. Emotional integrity of drone at risk)

(Rejected: "Morality" insignificant native species construct. Emotional integrity of drone sustainable through maintenance protocols)

Come on, you useless power!

She refused to come all this way only to be able to do something, anything to the loop and then be thwarted! She knew that her power should be able to interact with this! She could hear people speaking around her, a voice that sounded faintly like Coleson's was speaking up, but she could barely hear it as she focused and tried to do... Something

She was not sure what.

Beg her power to work differently? Demand it?

D̬̦ͣͤͅr̗̗ͤ͐ͅo͉̿ṉ̉̚e̝̼̼͒ ̠̣̎ͭ̂d͇̦͙̎̈e͔̮̲ͩm̺͛̈́a͉̠̩ͦͧn͚̒ḏͯs͇̄͊͑ ̰͔̐ͮ̄ǎ̺̣̳̽̍d̘̘͋d͕ͬͣi̝̞̎ͤt̜̮͂i̜̝͔̚ò̭̱͕̚n̤̭̫̈̊a͖͖͍ͧ͋l̮͎͎͗̂̔ ̬͍̰̃̂͗c̝͍͍̽͛ă̮p͓̠̅ͩ͒a̠̦̳͒͌b̝̥̥ͣi͖̗̱ͦͭͩl̺̥̗̐̌̒ȉ̺̞t̯͐i̘̮ͣ͗e̺̫̜͐s͎̙͔̿

(Drone demands additional capabilities)

Ṛ̻̆E̪̫̘̤̩̟̰͕͎̅ͩ̃̋J̠̳̙̋ͪ̈̅ͯ͗̔́̊ͤ̃̄Ȇ̲̥̼͉̗̼̪͕̖̪͒̂ͫ̈ͫ͂̿́ͩC̟̥̭͙̼̤̥̤̟̜̮̬̎̉̂̈͐ͩ͆̒̾T͈͍͕̞͎͓̲̪͇͓̒̓ͨͯ̓ͥͥE͎̟̹̘̙̬̳̬ͣ͋͋̓̀ͭ́D̜̺̠͔͍̱̀̉̈́̒ͯ̐͂ͅ.͕ͭ̾ͬ̆̎̀̑ͣͫ̚ ̪̻͓̗̳͖̪̩̠̗̾̆̌̑͋̈́̾Î͎̞̹̲̜̱̝̇̐͒ͮ̀͂̚N̦̈̇ͣ̊S̺̯̻̰͚̖̩͙̪͎͔̓̄̐ͤ̅̾̾͛ͧ͆͗I̠̻̹͍̪̻̳̳̘̗͖̻ͭͭ̓͊̂ͬ́̇̚G̺̹̲̪̥͕͈͓̹̦̥ͬ̒ͦ̚Ń̻̮̯̎ͩ̊̈́ͬ̚F̯͎̬͖̭̮̲͓̬̣̱̙̑̒I̞̜̪̖̺̮͋ͬ̔C̜͍͈̝̞͍̹̘̲͍̼ͤͩ̓ͭ̽Ä̪̙́͐̆͊̅̉͐͛N̞͓̹̗͔̥̫͈͖̮̙ͧͅT̝̟͇͕̣͕̩̦̤͂ͯ̍

(REJECTED: INSIGNIFICANT)

(Drone DEMANDS additional capabilities. Drone will "Impress" superiors and gain access to improved data)

(Re-evaluating drone argument; factoring in drone observations of native species behaviours. Reviewing 'hierarchies' and 'PRT Handbook')

(Engaging Starring Invade capacity. Limiting deployment to area directed by drone)

D̝̜̬͍͑ͩ̊̐ͅḛ͖̜̰̜̥̭͚͇̾͐̒̽̉ͨ̽̚ͅp͍̼͋̓͆l̞̣̄o̗̗͈̤̯̠̜̝̞̠ͤ͐̍̊ͥ͋͑̏̑̚y̲̼̙̠͍̅̏̈͑̔͂͗̾i̞͛̔̃ͬ͆ͣn̼ͣ̿̒̚ğ͙ͤ ͍̝̤͍̽ͧ̐̈́͋Ș̤̭̫͚̞͗t̻̣̰̣̺̻̮̳̯̘͒̿̾̓͑̃̂̋ͪa̹̬̳ͨͩ̒̏ͦ̎̽ͫ̓̚r͕͉̎̽͐̑̒̉͛̈r̙̲͍̩̟͚̮̯̙̈́ͭ̀ͦ̏̏ȉ̼ͥ̆̏̈̿́̄ͪn̬͓̦̜̫̓̒g̜̘͍̀̆ͮ̓ͭ̍̍͊ ̠͉̩̲̼̮̫ͣͮͤ̂̔̌ͧ͌Ḭ̬̮ͧ̽ͪ̔n̞͕͎̪̗͙̩͛ͤ͐͋v̩̦͓̜̬͓͉̝̈́ͯͧ͆̿̅̃͋ͬͅͅa͍̭̣̟ͦͦͨd͉͔̝͔͓̬͈̼ͣ͛̎ë̮̓͐

(Deploying Starring Invade)

Something happened.

The bubble of time and Bastion's shields disappeared as Taylor stumbled, caught by surprise by a sensation she could not necessarily describe for just a moment. 

She... felt utterly right in her environment, utterly at peace as the laws of the world were reset to something more familiar. At that moment, there could be no bubble of looping time, no floating shields of light from Bastion, everything was as it should be in the world. 

A universe in perfect harmony, with all its rules as they should be---

The match hit and the fire started to burn before a wave of white struck both Taylor and Elinor, a wave of dry powder from five directions that smothered them both. It left Taylor blinded for a few moments, her ears were filled with the sound of the extinguishers and voices, shouting in the distance.

"Thank you!"

Suddenly, there was a pair of arms wrapped around her.

"I---" Taylor, quite overwhelmed, felt a head beside hers, pressing against it, forcing it to the side. The pair of arms were hugging her so tightly.

"Miss Hillridge, please let go of Ordinant at once!"

The troopers were there again, fire-retardant blankets were being thrown around the woman’s shoulders and head to smother any remaining licks of flame that could reignite her, the stench of gasoline was strong. The woman was okay, she was free. 

Taylor could only blink as, automatically, she brought up her hands to give her a tentative squeeze back.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou---"

"It's okay, it's okay..."

R̼̈͐̊ẻ̜͔ṣ̱͉ͦ̈́c͉̲̜̬̼̫̪̲̼͖ͦ̉ͨ̃͒ͦḯ̞̘n̝̘̥̦͔̤͎̽ͪ̐̓ͯd̹̺̠̱̹̘̹͉̪ͣ̄̆ ̱̞͈̜̻̱̌ͫ̑ͤ̉ͫͣ̚S̗ͥẗ͚́̽ȃ͍̞̞̹͉͙͑̾ͯr͍͇͔̙̐̓͒̑͋̾͑͊́̈r̝͍͈͎̲̈́̔i͇͕͎ͪ̔͐n̼ͨ̉̈́̅g͕̜̫͙̳̏̍̐͛ͫ͋ͪ͊̚ ̣͈̺̣̇̒̆̌͂̌̐I̞̩̍̔ͣ̽͂̉̍̚n̠̭͕̣̹̦͚ͯ̅ṿ̖̻̪͉̯̰̗ͭ̊͗͊̂͌͒ͧ͑̋a̺͎͐ͬ͊̐̈́̃ͮ̚̚d̝͔̱̲̙̯͇ͯ͛̌̐͒ͤe̞͚͍̩͉̹͇͍̝̔͛̄ ͓̦̮ͦ͒̋ͅc͙̰̬͉͓̱̣̳̰̈́ȁ͚͖̠̻̺͐ͦ͆̎̈ͯ͋p̙̺̭̦̪̖̓ͨͨ̒ā̼̥͕̜͈͖ͭ̐̍ͯͭc̻̭̋ͣ̇ͪ̎i͔̼͓̤͓̩̰̯͈͛ͨ̉̍̉̽ͨͧͪ̆t̪͓͈̪͙̦͗ͯͤ̿ͧy̬͆͗̑̽ͥ͂̍̔̓̇?͕̃̚ ̱̭͙̪̗̖̑̆̈͗̿̚R̻͇̳̫̓ͧͧ̃̓ë̯͓̘̼̾ͯ̋̏͌ͣ̂̐j̦͇͕̜͇̈̿e̗̗̼̗͇̖̭̖̙͛͑c͎̗͔̖͖͚̻̒͑ͪ̔̈́͌t̞͕͉͚͔̖̤̻̊ͭ̌ë͕̍ͅd͎̯̼̗̗ͪ͋̇ͣ̒̎̀.̟̣̟̹̱̼̻̞̍̍̅ͥͅ ̝̩̰̜͕̻̹̒̈̋̈́ͥ͌̌̀͗ͅE̼̪̭͈̯̊̎ͦ͐͗̌̅͐n͚̞͇ͧ̎̏̍ͭͮͣ̆ͭf͚̞̬̥͔̠̘̜ͫ̏̿o̱̟͉̰̥͕͗̓̊̾ͪͭͤ͛ͅr̻̖̺̲̯̫̩̪̻̈c̝̫̮̻̣͎̈́ͥ̓̓ẽ̻̰̘̱͖̺ͯ͗ͧ̊̈͗ͯ ͎̻̦͕̦̥̗͊ͨ̇ͣ͌̍ͩ̐S̳̪̩̯̱̩̲̗͊ͭ̔̊͌͒t̰̓̑̎̿͌̐̆ǎ̺͙̏͐̓̐́̈́̏̍ͮr̦͙̂̔͒͆ͣ͋̈͒͂r͉̱̖̟̙̙͙̳̺̜̄í͈̟̳͕ͣ̉̾̏̋̾̄̚n͍̹̖̖͔̙͐̑̔g͕̥̲̣̠ͬ̒̄̔̐ͮ̓̚ ̮̤̜̲͙̮͊ͤͮͤ̋ͤ̍̃I̫̦̝̗̪͈̤ͯͧ̌̑͋̑͛̚n̯͂ͣͥ̂ͭ͑v̼͔̞͈̠̯̇ͯ̇̓á̮̯̻̟͎̺̩̘̯ͬ͐ͣͪ̽̉̏d̠̹̻̦̑e̮͓̱̯͎̼̻͕͓̩ͭ́ͭͭ̃͌ͯ ̞͇̳̦̋̑̽̚c̗̟̥͇͍̟̞̃a̝̯͉̩͈̺̮ͮ͐͌ͭ̂́ͬ̎ͨ̿p̲͚̦͔͉ͭ̈́ͣ̐̂ͅͅa̳̘͍̘̟̿ͧ̎̌̾ͬ̽c̰̖̼͔̻̭̪̼̄̒ͅî̪̩͙̖͕͎̠ͥ̔t̻̙̼̰͕͍̤͇̦̻ͭͪy͉̦̮̜̝͚̰̌͗͒̇̿̆ ̣̤̣̫̹̫̬̹̉ͣ̾̎ͯ͗̐̃͑o̹̠͉͖͍̜͓̟̳͇̔̌̌ͬ́̀̏͒ṿ͉͖̭̯̝̹͐͐̈e̬͉͈̱͉͛͒͒̒̋̈́̒ͬr͔̓̄̊͊̉ͦ̆ͦ͒̀ͅs̝̪͚͎̰̟͕ͫ̃̋ͮͧ̎͂̚i̝̲͙̞͍̝̾̇͗̽g̥̻͂͆̃̊ͮͯͦh̻̟ͣ͊́͐̄̄t̪̞͖̝͗ͭ̐̃͛ͭ́ͪ̚

(Rescind Starring Invade capacity? Rejected. Enforce Starring Invade capacity oversight)

Taylor looked towards the troopers. Some were advancing, clearly about to try and pull the woman off her.

"It's okay, just... let her." 

In that moment, Taylor felt so very... human. She reached up to pat Elinor's back and gave a gentle sway from side to side. The woman broke down in her arms, knees collapsing and falling to the ground weeping, bringing Taylor down with her. For the next few minutes, the victim was Taylor's only concern, irrespective of others.

When, finally, Elinor could be helped to her feet, Taylor just stood there watching as she was escorted away.

A blanket was given, her costume was now covered in the dry powder, but she barely took any notice of it.

Taylor looked down at her hand, it looked the same as before, no different from how it did moments ago. 

She just... ended a time loop, a time loop created by one of the worst villains in America's history. 

Just like that, with barely any effort. It was like magic, like a power. An actual power, the statements beforehand that she had a power seemed different now. It was a sharp realisation that crashed against her like a wave against the shore.

But she didn't do that with her hand, that was more like... a burst?

She looked towards the supervisor for this all. Agent Mackay almost looked a little surprised himself, yet an irascible smile broke on his face, irresistibly pulling the corners of his lips upwards. 

"Um... so, it worked."

"Yes, it did."

The looks she was getting were different now. After a moment, a throat was cleared. It was Mackey.

"Ordinant, congratulations. That is the first-ever Grey Boy time loop to be stopped."

She had never felt so... useful. Her breath was shallow, she swallowed, throat suddenly dry. 

Agent Coleson looked very pleased at something; he was writing on his phone even as he nodded her way.

She felt so happy. 

The room seemed very different without the central figure being horrifically tortured, with the sound of... clapping?

Yes, clapping. 

Some of the troopers were clapping.

Clapping for her.

"---And this is the Wards space, Ordinant."

It was no longer Agent Mackey who was showing her around, apparently the man suddenly had a 'significant amount of paperwork to do and people to talk to', as he put it. The fact that he said it with a wry, knowing smile towards Coleson, who seemed in on the joke and who wished him good luck, confused her a little. 

Well... thinking about it, a person long thought to be unable to help society had been freed, Elinor Hillridge probably had family and friends who had moved on in their lives past her, only to now get a message that she was free. Did she have children, ones that she might have last held when they were infants, only to meet them now as teenagers? That would be odd, to suddenly have a mother only ten years older than you.

Coleson also had a lot of calls to make as well, it seemed, and could not enter the Wards quarters without special permissions from above. So, he had wished her a pleasant evening and departed. 

In lieu of them both, she had been left in the hands of Bastion.

She had heard a few things about the man, his powers over force fields made him quite capable and a valuable addition to the Boston Protectorate, but apparently his public record was somewhat... troubled. Something to do with racial slurs.

She was not sure if she wanted to know.

There had been an awkward moment in which she apologised for breaking all the barriers that he had taken the time to set up, but the man had waved it off.

"You're not the first person to break them with a power accidentally, and you won't be the last," he had said.

The Wards quarters were much bigger here, no doubt because there were a lot more of them here compared to Brockton Bay, and the entrance procedure of pushing a button and waiting for a light to turn green was much the same as it was back home. 

There were two Wards present to meet them, neither of who were wearing masks.

Then again, they were also odd-looking individuals.

One was muscular and tall, with a metallic body that seemed to include several different alloys and materials. It was... interesting, Taylor had heard of him faintly... Weld? Weald? Wait, no, he was metallic. Weld. Something about the sight of the metallic body made her stomach drop. 

Unbidden, images of that vast, featureless face, illuminated a hellish red by the burning forest, came to mind.

She could see it facing her, seeing without eyes, staring into her soul---

Taylor tore her eyes away from him to look at the other. 

Shorter, both in terms of natural height and posture, the other Ward was hunchbacked and, were it not for the obvious tattoo, Taylor's first thought would attribute severe scoliosis to the Ward. But he walked fine, and greeted her with a wave.

"Ordinant, this is Weld and Hunch," Bastion spoke up, taking the lead and indicating to them both as he said their names. "This is Ordinant, the Ward from Brockton Bay that was mentioned in the email that went around, she's going to be staying for a few days, so I hope you'll both make her feel welcome and show her to room twelve," he spoke. 

"Pleased to meet you."

Weld's hand wrapped around hers as they shook hands, Taylor was glad for the visor of her outfit, it meant that she could feign looking at his face when she, in fact, looked away. The skin was somewhat warm, although only a little of that was evident through her gloves, and he had a firm grip, the sort of grip her father would approve of. 

By contrast, Hunch gave her a wave and had a much weaker handshake that would be better described as limp-wristed.

"I'll leave Ordinant in your hands, good evening, you two."

"Evening sir."

"Night, Bastion,"

A huff from the older man as he left, not bothering to reprimand the hunchbacked Case-53 as he did so, leaving Taylor with the two of them. 

"Alright, we've got a pizza order ready to go if you want to put something on it, Ordinant," Hunch said, pointing a slender finger towards a laptop sitting innocently on a table in front of the TV. "Gotta say, we don't often get Wards visiting from Brockton Bay as often as we do from New York."

"Oh, they wanted me to do some experiments with my power," she said, distracting herself by walking over to the couch and laptop. Was she allowed to say what happened? "I broke one of Grey Boy's bubbles," she said in a rush.

"... No shit?"

It was Weld who asked that.

"Yeah. My power is a little niche, I become immune to powers that are used on me, so I could reach in and out of the bubble and try to pull the person out... and then I kind of... broke it and all of Bastion's shields in one go with a burst of it?" Saying it like that felt so odd.

"Huh, so wait, it's kind of like... an anti-Shaker power?"

"I... maybe? I don't know, oh god, they're going to put me through more power testing now, aren't they?" Taylor sighed as the realisation hit her.

"You better believe it!" Hunch said with cheer. "Took about three days before they let me go, but that's what happens when you're a precog' Thinker, kind of. I don't always have the best accuracy, but I just got a flash of some scientist in your future having a heart attack... ah, metaphorically," the said with a lopsided grin.

Taylor groaned.

In the end, she placed her order and they spent a few minutes slowly getting to know one another, both Case-53's only had so much history to share but Hunch was rather adept at guiding the conversation. 

When the pizza arrived, they ate in relative silence.

Gnawing on a crust, Taylor sat curled up in the sofa's corner seat as the news played in the background, Hunch and Weld arguing good naturedly over the topic of whether a sandwich should be sliced horizontally or diagonally. If her power was not just affecting herself but had some sort of area of effect, why had it never worked like that before? Was it because her power was working double time to slow the crystal? 

Her legs ached, or she suddenly became aware of it, as if the crystal was complaining.

She needed to check, what if the crystal had spread faster the moment she broke the time bubble?

"Can I make calls from here? I want to phone folks back home."

"Yeah, so long as it's one of the PRT phones, you're good to go."

That was a relief. Taylor awkwardly excused herself and then departed for the room she had been assigned. It was much like the one she was given in Brockton Bay, all blank, white-ish walls, a bed somewhere between a single and a double and the bare minimum of utilitarian furniture. Taylor locked the door and carefully removed the leg portions of her outfit. 

The crystal had not advanced.

She released a sigh of relief. So, could she continue to use this new aspect of her power without concern in future?

She could but hope, and she put her outfit back on before she called home.

Her father picked up the house phone on the fifth ring, he must have been sitting at the kitchen table. Probably looking over more papers, or perhaps he was on the couch watching some TV?

"Hello?"

"Hi dad, it's me."

"Taylor, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I... the experiment worked dad, I did it!"

There was a pause of a few seconds. Would her father fully understand what had happened today? He was not really into the cape scene so much, far more focused on the down to earth of real life, where people lived and worked and struggled for survival.

"Well done, Taylor," she didn't realise until then how much she needed to hear those words. Drawing in her legs, she wrapped the other arm around them and brought a hand to her mouth to stop the sound that would have escaped.

After a moment to compose herself, she spoke.

"Thanks dad, everyone here seems really excited about it, they said it's the first one to ever be dealt with, and when I helped her get out of it, she just broke down and was so thankful and wouldn't stop crying---" she could not help herself now, explaining all that had happened, avoiding using names of course or mentioning some of the specifics. 

Her father listened to all she had to say without interrupting her, letting her spill the beans and say all she needed to.

"And you were not hurt or anything the entire time, were you?"

"No! No, I kind of got covered with that dry white powder they use in fire extinguishers, but no, I wasn't hurt at all."

"Good." 

She could hear the faint hint of relief in his voice.

For a few minutes more they spoke, she asked about him and his day, although he had little to really say about it. It was all mundane things, he tried to make meatloaf but burned it somewhat because he got distracted. That sounded a lot like him, it brought a smile to her lips.

The call ended, and she spent a few minutes just... existing, sat replaying the conversation over in her head.

She was broken from her reverie by a light knock on the door.

Taylor hurried to put her mask on before calling out for the person to come in.

"Hey Ordinant, just wanted to know if there's anything we can get you to make you more comfortable, the rooms are pretty bland, me and Weld have modified the shit out of ours," Hunch asked, glancing about the bare, utilitarian space.

"It's okay, I don't want to trouble anyone."

To that, he gave something of a grin, a slight chuffing laugh came with it.

"We just got a message from higher up saying that whatever you need, they'll get. Either you charmed them real good or they're keen to keep ya' happy!" he said in a manner almost playful.

"..." Taylor looked around. 

She was not really sure how long she would be here in Boston. Just another day or two? Or more perhaps, if they wanted her to help all the people in the temporal loops here, then that might involve travelling all over the city, Coleson did not exactly give a timeframe beyond 'a few days.'

The room was pretty bare, but she could hardly ask for packs of sticky backs to make it more like home.

"Hey... you know those like... star projectors?"

"Like the kids ones?"

She gave an awkward chuckle.

"Yeah... Can I have one of those?" 

The other Ward didn't seem thrown off by the idea, instead, he gave a thumbs up.

"Sure, I'll ask for you."

She had expected a child’s toy... not what she actually got. Did the PRT appropriate a piece of technology from Harvard or did they just have pieces of equipment like this lying around in case astronomers decided to join them? Either way, it took her fifteen minutes to read the technical manual to work out how to operate the damn thing, during which time Hunch took pity and began reading it as well to try and give pointers.

It looked pretty though, so beautiful, the way that the stars and constellations were cast on the walls of her room.

Could she take this home with her?

Taylor hoped so, her thoughts drifted as she lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

That moment earlier, she had felt so very natural and relaxed, years of tension that she had been holding inside dissipated, like a knot under a good massage. The universe had felt right. 

Taylor focused, desiring it to be the same way again. She did not quite know whether she had to just remember the sensation, or dictate to her power to make it happen, she just wanted to feel that sensation again, at that moment in this room---

D̝̜̬͍͑ͩ̊̐ͅḛ͖̜̰̜̥̭͚͇̾͐̒̽̉ͨ̽̚ͅp͍̼͋̓͆l̞̣̄o̗̗͈̤̯̠̜̝̞̠ͤ͐̍̊ͥ͋͑̏̑̚y̲̼̙̠͍̅̏̈͑̔͂͗̾i̞͛̔̃ͬ͆ͣn̼ͣ̿̒̚ğ͙ͤ ͍̝̤͍̽ͧ̐̈́͋Ș̤̭̫͚̞͗t̻̣̰̣̺̻̮̳̯̘͒̿̾̓͑̃̂̋ͪa̹̬̳ͨͩ̒̏ͦ̎̽ͫ̓̚r͕͉̎̽͐̑̒̉͛̈r̙̲͍̩̟͚̮̯̙̈́ͭ̀ͦ̏̏ȉ̼ͥ̆̏̈̿́̄ͪn̬͓̦̜̫̓̒g̜̘͍̀̆ͮ̓ͭ̍̍͊ ̠͉̩̲̼̮̫ͣͮͤ̂̔̌ͧ͌Ḭ̬̮ͧ̽ͪ̔n̞͕͎̪̗͙̩͛ͤ͐͋v̩̦͓̜̬͓͉̝̈́ͯͧ͆̿̅̃͋ͬͅͅa͍̭̣̟ͦͦͨd͉͔̝͔͓̬͈̼ͣ͛̎ë̮̓͐

(Deploying Starring Invade)

There!

There it was. 

Taylor relaxed completely as the laws of the world reset to... whatever it was her power enforced. Normality? It felt normal, it felt right.

She sat in a world that was correct, staring up at the stars. They were not quite in the right place, to her mind. Which was ridiculous, of course they were in the right place because what another place should they be? The stars were both right and wrong, the universe felt at peace with all its natural laws enforced. She would have to check later to see if the crystal had advanced in this time as well.

A sigh escaped her as she lay there, ignoring or unfeeling of the hard floor beneath her.

Staring up at the teaming stars gently rotating above and around her, Taylor watched, transfixed, for hours. 

She had done it; she had done something useful.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Taylor could hear distant voices. 

She sat motionless on the hospital bed, listening. She barely breathed, barely moved, she had not blinked in minutes, staring into her lap. The wounds on her torso ached and stung where the liquid metal had cut and dug in, even as they slowly healed.

"Your negligence has cost years of Ordinant's life!" 

Coleson was speaking, she could hear his voice even from this distance. Despite his injuries, the man was running on all cylinders.

She had never heard somebody sound so angry in her life. Not even her father, with his thunderous anger at times, had ever taken it out within earshot of his family and always done his best to keep any shouting he did out of earshot. She had still sometimes heard it, though, him shouting down a phone at somebody. But not like this. 

Coleson was incandescent with rage and was unafraid to drop the walls of professionalism to rip into the local PRT members.

"There was nothing that could have been done---"

"Boston has over fifteen Protectorate members and Ordinant is the only Parahuman on earth who can break Grey Boy loops, where was the protection!? Only Bastion was present, and she should have been your absolute priority!"

"You also failed to---"

"I requested additional protection throughout this procedure!"

Plenty of other people were angry, right now.

Not with her, though.

In a way, that made it worse. 

She killed a man.

Even if he was not sane any more. Even if it might have been a mercy, she had reached into his body and crushed what little remained of his brain as if it were a grape. She had barely thought about it, her body had reacted automatically... no part of the hand-to-hand combat training with Aegis or the others had trained her to crush people’s organs.

That was the instinct of a monster.

Where had that come from? This... this was not her. She was a hero. She wanted to help people. Could she have cancelled what was going on and helped him? Could her power have returned him to being human? But even then... whatever was once there was gone. 

But no. Instead, she still killed him.

Would she have felt different if he had not transformed? 

If he had just been a man driven mad to who had to be put down by the PRT troopers and their guns, would she still feel the same guilt?

... Yes, probably. 

But it would be different.

Her hands were physically and metaphorically bloodstained now. On some level, she could never go back from what had happened today.

Her now crystallised arm lay limp in her lap. Physically, it was heavier than her flesh and blood one, but she could move and manipulate it just as easily. The crystal felt... good. 

She hated it. 

She hated that idea, that the multitude of specks that glistened at her were beautiful. Most of the time, she could avoid looking at her legs. But now there would be no escape from the reminder, unless she wore a glove and long sleeves for the rest of her remaining life.

Her shoulder was not aching. Perhaps the newly crystallised flesh would not expand, perhaps her legs, greedy for more, would progress, and her new arm would be content with devouring her limb? She would not hold out hope. The crystal wanted her. It wanted all of her.

It would not stop.

This was her life, to be consumed, to become...

A choked sob escaped her.

The arm had to be cut off. 

No, all of it had to be removed! Oh god, why had she waited so long! She was so scared, she couldn't ignore it any more, her arm was glinting up at her as if to mock her; 'Here I am! I'm going to crawl up and eat you alive!' 

In that moment she wished she had a meat cleaver so that she could cut off the loathsome thing herself.

She was so close to breaking down. All the progress over the last few weeks, all the hopes and dreams... it was all falling apart. She didn't even want to drown in a wave of information and knowledge right now, she just wanted to curl up somewhere dark, somewhere humanity would not look.

Her phone buzzed.

It took a moment for her to realise what the sound was, dully, her eyes moved. The phone... had it always been on the bed? It must have been, perhaps she was to expect a call from Miss Militia or her dad? Had he been informed about what had happened? They must have, right? He would come, he would drive all the way down if it came down to it to help her. He loved her, he was the only person who did.

Emma : Is calling

Emma. Emma. Emma! Emma!

Like a drowning man reaching for a bottle of water, Taylor took up the phone and pressed accept with her flesh and blood arm. Her lifeline, her friend, the only person in the world who would understand the full weight of what had happened to her. Emma would understand. Emma always did, she was like her twin, they spoke without speaking, they knew one another like they knew themselves. 

"Emma..." her voice was croaky; it had been hours since she last spoke. She hadn't been able to speak to Coleson, or Yamada or any of the agents who had tried to rouse her after what happened despite their attempts. 

"Tay, I... I need you. Come back!"

"Emma, I... I..." she couldn't speak, her friend also sounded on the verge of breaking down, there was a desperation in her voice.

"Please," Emma was begging insistently, Taylor could see her, locked up in her room, the blinds lowered, the ends of her hair probably all chewed up. She always chewed her hair when she was stressed. Something must have happened. "The crystal, it's grown, s-s-six centimetres, I need you, please, please please please---"

Taylor sniffled. She would not break down.

"T-Taylor... what's wrong?"

They spoke, Taylor told all, and she listened to all Emma had to say. Emma almost screamed, Taylor could hear the frustration and despair from here, even as she felt the same and responded in kind. Everything was falling apart... this was the worst day of her life since the day the Spider arrived.

But...

Emma needed her.

That alone brought sensation to her despair. Her crystallised hand clenched. Emma needed her right now. 

Come hell, high water or even the fucking Spider, Emma needed her. Even if she felt like shit, even if her lifespan had been reduced by years, by a decade, she could not just sit here and replay the day's events in her head.

Pushing off the covers felt like a titanic effort. She was still in her outfit; they had removed the material covering her arm so that a doctor could examine it more closely. Up to her mid-upper arm was crystal now.

Across the hospital ward she walked, a nurse tried to stop her, but she just walked on, onwards and out of the room, heels clicking and clinking against the floor as she went, and barely anyone even tried to get in her way. She did not have to go far to find the shouting Coleson, and she roughly pushed open the door with her newly crystallised arm.

"Coleson."

"Ordinant?" he looked surprised to see her up, head practically whipping around. The man looked a mess, even though he had changed into a new outfit, the bandages were evident, especially the one on his neck and over his face. How the man was so functional in this state, Taylor had no idea.

"We have two more loops to break, and then we are going home."

There were glances between everyone present. Opposite Coleson was one of the Boston higher ups, the woman behind the desk was looking over Taylor and the crystallised arm. 

"Ordinant, I think you need some more rest," Coleson spoke diplomatically. His face was bandaged from where the liquid metal had slashed him, he might have lost an eye, yet he had still been here arguing with the local PRT for her sake. 

"My life has been utterly fucked today and my best friend is having a breakdown, and I am not far off," she spoke. "I either break these two loops tonight and go home, or we just go. I'll get a taxi if I have to."

The room was silent at the proclamation.

In the end, she had broken the two loops.

There had been an argument with some of the higher ups of Boston until the local Director, Armstrong, had gotten involved and unilaterally pushed aside all opposition. The man seemed reasonable, even kind. He had asked to speak with Taylor at some point in the future to discuss what had happened. She had politely agreed, if only to make the entire matter move along faster.

A member of Youth Guard had become involved and there would be some spectacularly ferocious fines levelled against the Boston PRT there alongside a full investigation and more.

Currently, Taylor was not thinking about that.

They had been rushed to the other two Grey Boy loops with a full complement of Protectorate capes called in to provide protection. The question of why they had not done that in the first place went unspoken, but she had noticed the way Coleson’s lips pressed together into a narrow line. 

There had been another trigger, although it was dealt with peacefully, and then they were blasting along the highway back to Brockton Bay.

She felt just a little bad for the Boston Wards, out of everyone. They had been so accommodating to her, Weld and Hunch had been so pleasant, when she was better, when things were better, she would send them a message on PHO... maybe.

But right now, getting to Emma was her priority.

Her dad had been informed what had happened, and she had little doubt that calls were being made.

But before all that, he had called her to demand every detail, to know if she was safe and coming back. If Coleson's anger had been bad earlier, she had little doubt that Danny Hebert was utterly apoplectic with rage and would leave no stone unturned. She would leave that to him, she still felt mostly numb and empty beyond that all consuming drive... he would meet her at the Barnes later in the night.

They were not far away now.

It probably was not right for them to drop her off at a civilian location, but the PRT van was unmarked, all anybody watching would see would be a random girl getting out of a van and heading to the house. Not that she was concerned, she could leave that to her superiors.

She had changed on the fly back into civvies before leaving Boston, leaving only her visor, which she removed as she stepped out and shoved it roughly and without concern into a bag.

"Here."

"Are you sure, Ordinant?"

"Yes... thank you, Coleson."

"... Ordinant. If you need to talk at any point, I shall make myself free," he said, meeting her gaze with the one eye not covered by a bandage. She had little doubt he wanted to say more. But those conversations would happen later, another time.

"Thanks, g'night."

She was not even halfway up the path to the door than it was thrown open to reveal Zoe Barnes, the woman looked some combination of shell shocked and relieved as Taylor was brought in. Alan Barnes was also in the hallway, he looked pale and sick with worry. 

He said something, thanking her for coming.

"C'mon Taylor she's upstairs," Zoe took her hand and half-walked half-ran Taylor up the stairs to Emma's room, reaching up to knock on the door. "Emma, Taylor's here now," and with that, she opened the door for her. 

Emma was a mess, sat on her bed in her pyjamas, hair all frizzy and face red and puffy from crying.

Taylor, too, was a mess. She had been up for too long now, she was emotionally and physically exhausted, her body bandaged from the flesh wounds she sustained earlier, even if it would be healed soon. She almost stumbled with relief upon seeing Emma.

Her friends' tired, scared eyes looked at her arm, her lip wobbled. Emma's legs were covered, but Taylor knew roughly how far up the crystal would be by now.

"T-Tay."

Taylor's legs gave out beside the bed and within a moment, her chin was on Emma's shoulder and Emma's was on hers.

They spoke, they cried, they raged impotently at the hand that they had been dealt, at the things utterly out of their control that the world kept inflicting on them. Emma didn't care about her crystallised arm, she refused to let Taylor go or so much as move an inch.

"Please don't leave me again Tay please please don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me---" she was frantic, her arms were so tight around Taylor that she could barely breathe. There was nothing she could say or do apart from hug Emma close and babble into her friend’s ear and promise over and over again to be there and ask Emma to do the same, it would not be until early morning that they were both too exhausted and drifted off to unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Piggot and Armstrong

When Kamil Armstrong left his office at his usual time that afternoon to begin his journey back home, he had not expected to make it only halfway across the city of Boston before a frantic call came through the hands-free system. Being trapped in traffic, he had glanced at the number to see that it was from his own office, or to be more correct, from his secretary, a rather sweet old lady who had been with the PRT longer than some of his Wards had been alive.

He had accepted the call, of course, and then his day had been turned on its head and gone to shit. 

Forty minutes later, he was handing his suitcase back to the woman, not a smile in sight as he stormed through the corridors. The air was thick with tension and for once he made not a single effort to lighten it. 

Shit had hit the fan, and now it was his turn to take the flak for it. 

"Get Piggot on the phone."

"Her office is waiting on two, sir. "

Of course the woman would still be in her office at this time of night. Taking a seat behind his desk, Kamil clicked his neck, then picked up the phone. 

"Director Piggot?"

"Director Armstrong."

For her tone, she had clearly been waiting for this call for a while.

"I've heard about what happened and now need to ask what the hell have you and your department been doing with my goddamn Ward!?"

Armstrong winced. 

Brockton Bay needed all the help and support that it could, and Wards were both a great blessing and a curse in that regard. Talent that could not be fully utilised, but which could be raised in both safety and with the correct guidance to become a potent asset in the future... a lot of departments were rather precious when it came to their Wards as a result. 

Not that it stopped some directors from moving their Wards about like sports teams with players, hoping for better trades...

When it came down to it, Parahumans were a valuable and limited resource. 

Even some of the most minor of powers had the potential to be incredibly potent in the right situation. 

Ordinant had seemed like one of those cases, cancelling shaker effects by touching them was a niche with only so many uses in the day-to-day operation of the city… but it was one that had the potential to be a valuable as an asset to the Brockton Bay PRT as a whole. 

That was part of the reason that she had been loaned out to Boston in the first place, and Kamil was not fool enough to fail to notice such.

What Boston would gain in a small experiment and the potential PR boost of several freed Grey Boy victims; Piggot would gain tenfold in the form of an incredibly valuable bargaining tool. PRT departments across the US would give their right hand to borrow Ordinant for even a short period of time, perhaps even lending out their own Capes to Brockton Bay for an extended period. 

Even if he didn't know Brockton Bay's situation entirely, he could imagine what extra resources he could call in if he had access to the girl as a bargaining chip.

Within hours of breaking her first loop, he could imagine Brockton Bay's PRT had been filled with frenzied plan making, the drawing up of potential agreements between departments and proposals. 

But now...

"And yet you and your boys saw it as more of a science experiment---" Piggot said, voice cool.

"Director Piggot. I might have had an interest in your Wards powers in an academic sense, you are correct," Armstrong interjected. "But my academic interests do not supersede the safety of any Ward."

"Then what the hell happened in those chambers, Armstrong?"

Kamil leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. 

The last few hours had been an utter mess on a level that had him wondering whether he should drop some part of the personality he had worked so hard to cultivate, and hand out a few ass beatings. He liked to think of himself as one of the more laid back, even approachable directors. 

In such capacity, he had worked to make Boston's PRT a safe place for Case-53's in particular, made sure that Weld had all the music and facilities he needed to settle in...

And now look at this shitshow.

"A piece of information was not brought to my attention, or was neglected on the part of my agents, when your Ward displayed a new aspect to her power---" as it had been described to him in his documents, alongside numerous, excited notes and scribblings "---my agents failed to inform me that it had also affected Bastion's shields. I was led to believe that it was a directed effect that Ordinant was specifically using on the bubble, and that all of Bastion’s shields had been left in place. Had that been the case, then she would have been protected from the Changer long enough for an evacuation to take place."

"I see."

Somebody just happened to leave some small element out. 

... He imagined the woman might understand such a thing in particular. After all, wasn't her own history defined by the fact somebody failed to mention that Cape support had been pulled back?

"Well, it doesn't matter what might have happened, Armstrong. What matters is what happened. Now I have a psychologically compromised teenager with a power whose numbers keep going up in ratings, and who half the Directors in the country will be chomping at the bit to have under their supervision."

A psychologically compromised teenager sure was one way to phrase it.

Ordinant had been so obstinate that she slammed down her fist on the table when his Deputy Director attempted to argue that she should stay, that there would be no taxis at this time of night that could take her back to Brockton Bay. A straight-up attempt at misdirection that he would be taking the woman to town to about later in the night because she and some of the others screwed the pooch on this entire affair!

Apparently, a solid crystal fist created a hell of a bang as well, one loud enough to cause a minor alarm.

"More important, Agent Coleson said that Ordinant recovered?" 

"That is my understanding, she snapped out of a near fugue state and declared that she was going to break the loops and return to Brockton Bay, she threatened to get a taxi."

"And Coleosn has also been heavily injured from what I heard as well?" 

"Yes. Without Panacea he'll be blind in his left eye, and he suffered numerous lacerations that could've proven fatal."

Brockton Bay was uniquely blessed to have Panacea on call, it was a shame that she was an independent Cape, albeit one associated with an organisation like New Wave.

For a minute, Piggot was silent, during which time Armstrong allowed his fellow Director to think. In the manner of a man who had been in an office far too long, he pinned the phone to his neck with his chin and began hammering on his computer. 

There were enough emails in his inbox to fill a few hours in replying to, emails of the recordings and a few reports from various individuals who had been present. One of the troopers who had a body cam had submitted his own footage from a different angle, no doubt all of this would need to be processed and put together to get a full and comprehensive picture or recreation of what occurred. 

There was also the medical team's report on Ordinant and Coleson. 

The word laceration and 'near arterial miss' turned up far too often for his liking. 

Ordinant's healing factor had them confident that she would make a full recovery, but even then, he would recommend she see Panacea. 

There was also a brief diagnostic report on the liquid metal that had made up the cape; it was mercury, so the two would need to go through some manner of detox, there were limited capes who could remove heavy metals from a person's system. 

"So, what do you intend to do now?" Piggot spoke up. 

He tabbed out of the reports and emails

"There are no more Grey Boy loops left in Boston, she will never need to come back for that. Youth Guard will be on my ass and I have a lot of people to talk to, a good number of whom will never be working for the PRT again," he said, straightforwardly. "Beyond that, I'm going to find a way to at least somewhat improve the girl's condition. We don't have any healers, but we were going to have Prosthetist in the next week to take care of some folk who got caught in the crossfire between Accord's lot and some local independents. We’ll cancel it."

"Making space so that she can come to Brockton Bay sooner?"

"Yes."

He had no doubt that with the reveal of her full power, Ordinant would have been pushed to the very top of the priority list anyway. 

"I see. I also need Yamada because I have no doubt that Ordinant needs a lot of therapy."

No doubt, Armstrong thought.

The recording of the actual incident with the triggered Parahuman had been brutal and sudden. It spoke of Ordinant’s character that within moments of seeing the danger of the situation to the unpowered people present she took a stand, but it was also frankly hard to watch. 

Armstrong had seen it three times over, and he still struggled to fully understand just how this perfect storm could have occurred. 

The man triggering? it was well within the likely range of responses, seeing what he had been through. 

But the power combination was almost perfectly designed to be a headache, a liquid metal sludge that rendered ballistics and containment foam near pointless. Even had Bastion been up, he likely would have struggled unless he could fully enclose the man in a wall of shields. But for a teenager to have to reach into the material and pull out the Corona Pollentia and destroy it... that was the mother of all PR disasters. 

Even if most of the details could be kept under wraps, Ordinant’s experience was the sort of thing that cautionary examples were made of, and Boston already had one of those after Bastion's less than politically correct comments.

"Technically she's not under my jurisdiction, but I think after being there herself she will insist on seeing Ordinant anyway."

Cauldron

"There has been an escalation in a recent promising Cape."

Papers were handed out, they all glanced at the image of a rather plain-looking girl with glasses. Contessa did not need to look at the paper a great deal, she had known that it would be handed out and knew the broad strokes of it. 

"She's an Oort-Spider victim?" Keith said, surprise laced in his tone as he frowned. "I didn't realise that any of them were still around."

"Not many naturally occurring ones who survived its arrival, she and another survivor were the closest to the crash and saw it first hand," Alexandria explained as the group reviewed the document. It was an efficient thing, no need for personality traits or background information beyond the necessary, most of the paper was focused on the girls’ powers. 

"She must be the only one with a power, seeing how they normally react, correct?"

"Correct. An Anti-Shaker power limited to things she touches packaged with a minor brute ability to become immune to powers already used on her," Alexandria explained. "She can break the time loops created by Grey Boy, and has expanded it into a larger anti-Shaker field."

That got some interest. Legend blinked and spoke up. 

"How was this missed?" 

There were several loops in New York, much like with Boston, the Slaughterhouse Nine only made a brief visit after Keith got involved. Even the Nine were wary about spending too long in a city helmed by a cape who can bombard you with blasts far outside your range. 

"She did not show the capacity before, some are thinking that her power was holding back the crystal, but that in truth it is a radius-based Shaker-cancellation field."

Now that was of interest. 

Contessa watched keenly the way the various members of the Triumvirate reacted. Legend was the most obviously engaged, whilst Eidolon simply continued looking over the paper with a frown on his face. Alexandria had her poker face on, although Contessa noticed the way that she avoided looking at the pictures of the girl’s crystallised limb, Rebecca had lost plenty of good people during the first engagement of the Spider, and had to put down a few of them herself when their powers went out of control.

"It seems that her power was either not investigated properly or has displayed some new function, I was wondering if it was perhaps dependent on her own perceptions of it. During an interview afterwards, she described it as a 'burst', although we have no indications yet on how frequently she can do it, it's likely that there are further applications that have not been investigated or attempted, such as a directed blast or permanent field."

"A wide-ranging anti-shaker used properly would invalidate quite a few problems that we might face in the future," Dr. Mother commented clinically. "It says here that recently her arm crystallised as well? Out of nowhere?"

"It was in response to a newly triggered Parahuman going berserk, we have people looking into it, but we are not sure what happened. The infection has not progressed along her bones to reach the arm. There is a suggestion that to kill the threat her power had to extend from her body, leaving the limb vulnerable and the crystal took advantage of that."

"... That opens up plenty of worrying possibilities, I believed that the crystal could only infect areas in contact."

Cauldron's own investigations into the material had been extensive, although mostly performed using proxies on Earth Bet. The substance was simply too dangerous if it got out of control, whilst crystal that was removed from Quarantine Zone-09 did not appear to infect new material, discretion was the better part of valour.

"The girl needs to be preserved," Dr. Mother declared unanimously. 

There was no need for votes or anything of the sort, what Dr. Mother ordered was what would happen, and there could be little doubt in this circumstance. Already several options were being examined, the organisation had such a vast number of disparate Parahuman's to draw upon, whether by crook or by hook.

"The problem is her power immunity, we cannot freeze her in time or contain her until needed without her breaking free or the crystal fully consuming her."

A brief conversation about the matter occurred, one that suggested plenty of options, only for them to mostly be shot down. A nullifying cape was often a headache to deal with, but one that became immune to powers over time and could not be held through shaker powers was a unique kind of problem. 

"Does Ordinant factor into any paths you have, Contessa?"

"No. Like other people with the crystal, she is difficult to factor in easily."

Crystallisation suffers became increasingly impossible to path around as the condition progressed, for the most part, it was inconsequential, they would all eventually become immobile living statues with no capacity to interact with the world, and they were unable to trigger as Parahumans. 

But the odd way they interacted with paths until that point, throwing off her power or even warping events, had proven to be quite the headache. Fortunately, they were mostly confined to a small space in the north-eastern United States. 

"I see."

"Can you see the best route to secure Ordinant's survival and cooperation for the future?"

She focused, her power feeding her information. That was also difficult, the other girl had a more advanced form of crystallisation, but only marginally so... but no power? Interesting. Contessa frowned somewhat. Surely, without a power like Ordinant’s, the girl should be at minimum sixty-percent crystallised now? But the number was far lower. She made a mental note to investigate the matter later, it was an oddity. 

"There is another sufferer she is friends with, if we can guarantee that person’s survival than I can more easily path around her."

"Unpowered?"

She nodded.

"Trivial. Make sure the other girl gets the same treatment to ensure her survival. How many clients do we have in Brockton Bay?"

"Battery and Coil. We also have Gallant, who is in the Ward's with her," Kurt replied.

"Send them a message to keep an eye on the girl."

When all was said and done, the various parties departed. The triumvirate returned to their respective cities, Number Man went to his office to take care of some of his banking concerns, and soon it was just Contessa. 

For once, rather than a purely efficient path, Contessa allowed herself a rare moment to muse on her situation.

The crystal continued to be a thorn in her side. No, the Spider continued to be a thorn, both to her and Cauldron in general. Her power treated the creature the same way it treated Scion and the Endbringers. It was a blind spot, but one that did not move, since it landed it had moved less than a millimetre and seemingly dedicated its existence to being Earth Bet's most dangerous statue.

But the paths had been warping and changing since then, and she had a strong suspicion that the creature's metaphorical spiderweb was the reason why. 

Her path to try and find out more about the creature and the reason for her power's odd behaviour led her to a particular data set captured by the Keck telescope, atop Mauna Kea, Hawaii.

She may not be an astronomer, but her power found her the right person to leave no doubt about it anyway. 

The 'Campbell Micronova,' named for the first person to observe it, a graduate student. A period of intense activity that had been compared to a miniature star flaring into existence in a patch of space mostly occupied by white dwarfs and other stars not expected to die for several billion years.

Further analysis, however, had thrown up other oddities, calculating the distance to the event had thrown up all sorts of errors. 

The Campbell Micronova was only about eighty-thousand astronomical units away from Earth, a vast distance utterly incomprehensible to the average mind but in astronomical terms, a stone's throw away. 

RA 2h 41m 39s, Dec. +89° 15′ 51″

Those exact coordinates were the source of the event, varying erratically by a small degree, for five minutes and then suddenly it stopped. At the time it had been put down to an error in the recording software, although some individuals in the astronomical community also suspected that it was a refracted object that had been distorted by the cloud cover on the night. It was something of a heavy-handed explanation, the Keck telescope was one of the largest in the world and had been serviced just a few weeks before.

The entire event was barely captured, no telescope had been specifically focusing on that point and by the time they had the event was mostly over.

But it was also at that time that her power began to act weirdly, when it at once became a lot more cautious, for want of a better word.

Those coordinates were also the direction that the Spider had come from, years later. Whatever happened in the void of space had impacted on her power, but almost no others on Earth.

Since that moment, her paths had changed.

It was like her power was doing everything to avoid the Spider.

Emma

Taylor was asleep. 

She looked exhausted, weak, and worn, the stresses of her day evident in the way she kept frowning, unable to truly settle and fitful in the extreme. Every few minutes, she would shift and Emma would gently raise her arm from its place around her friend’s shoulder so that she could settle. 

Emma didn't sleep, didn't dare. Instead, she watched Taylor rest, and thought. 

When she got to the doctors earlier today, she had expected to hear the normal, that her crystallisation was slow, that there was barely any change. She made a point of never really looking at her legs, she washed them with her eyes closed, changed without looking at them and only ever wore pants. She did not expect to hear that it had progressed by a whole six god-damn centimetres... she hadn't noticed because of her willing ignorance.

The crystallisation was mostly below the skin, it 'infected upwards' from the bone, which was converted first, infiltrating the body so that no matter what you did, it always had more of you claimed than you thought...

The frantic panic, the terror that had consumed her had been like a furnace, burning away all thoughts of schoolwork and other concerns in her life, leaving just two overwhelming instincts that she could not deny; hide away in her room where she was safe... and get Taylor back at any cost.

And Taylor had come, as she always did.

Taylor was so loyal, so attentive and keen to be there for her. She had barely said anything about what she had been doing down south, but Emma knew that whatever work had necessitated her to be in Boston must have been something important if they wanted her to keep so utterly silent on the matter. Her text messages had been so run-of-the-mill it was almost painful, and there had been countless apologies for being unable to say more.

Not that Emma cared. Whatever they had been having Taylor do, she would not have minded, so long as she was safe. 

Unfortunately, she had evidently put far too much trust in the PRT.

And now Taylor's arm was crystal. It was glinting at her even now, from the corner of her eye. Emma had a double layered, extra thick set of blackout blinds to block out the millions of teeming eyes that hung in the night sky, and now her friend’s compromised limb stared at her.

Emma pulled up the cover to hide it, she did not want to look at the hateful crystal. 

Most people would think it frankly odd that Emma and Taylor still shared a bed during sleepovers, but for the longest time, Emma had almost been closer to Taylor than to her own sister. They were as close as fingers bound in a fist, they were like peas in a pod or any other similar analogy, although none would ever do it justice. They were together, they had to be, their fates were bound together by far greater powers than anybody else on this planet.

Emma needed Taylor, and she hoped that Taylor needed Emma in the same way. Sometimes that worry kept her awake at night, not existential concerns for the future or about her inevitable end, but worry that Taylor might leave her, might get bored or move away or just... move on from her. 

She could not bear the idea. 

Her solitary hand reached up to rest on top of Taylor's non-crystallised one. 

Heh... they were a match now, with both legs crystallising, and now Taylor's right arm was messed up, just like Emma’s left.

... It was horrible. 

What a horrible fate they had both fallen into. If Emma had just run and left Taylor behind that night, perhaps she would not be in this state. She would be happy and healthy, able to go about her life without the constant thoughts, without the proverbial ticking clock. Instead, she had dragged Taylor the half-mile to safety, meeting up with other kids, most of whom were dead now. Did she regret it?

... There were times...

But Emma and Taylor, they were survivors. 

That Hess girl at school had no idea what she was talking about, the one time she approached her in the cafeteria. There were no humans who were predators, all of them were merely survivors with different levels of armament. Emma and Taylor had survived the ultimate predator on the planet, and every day they endured and survived further. 

What could that bitch possibly have done to compare to that?

...

Before that night, Emma had had the entire world to claim for herself, but like this, with legs of crystal, she could never get a normal job or fall in love conventionally. 

Not that she would want to, any more.

The problem with having a condition like this was that it well and truly showed just who you could trust in this life. 

When she came back and other people learned about it, when the reports of how the Protectorate had mustered and failed to so much as inconvenience the Spider had emerged, suddenly every one of her friends abandoned her, all apart from Taylor. it had been a harsh slap to the face, a lesson that Emma had never allowed herself to forget since;

The only friend she needed was Taylor.

But there was a ray of hope now, this Prosthetist woman. If she could get new legs and perhaps a replacement for her half arm, if she could replace Taylor's arm and legs...

She just wanted it to shut up for a moment, she had Taylor back next to her now, so there was no reason for that... thing to worry. Like a nagging parent, it had prevented her from having a moment of peace or rest whilst her friend had not been at her side... And it had allowed the crystallisation to accelerate as a lesson and a motive to drag Taylor back.

The thing that protected her, bringing out the stick the moment that the carrot did not work.

She hated it almost as much as she hated the Spider at this point.

But once they were both better, when they could both clank about on metal legs and remember with equal horror and relief the times when they had both suffered... then it would shut up. They would be able to go to college, they would be able to get better and recover... maybe even---

Her alarm went off, a traditional sort, Anne brought it back from college for her. 

Taylor jolted and shifted, whining in that adorable way she did---

Emma reached out, gripped the alarm clock and crushed it to pieces.

Taylor needed her sleep; Emma shushed her back into rest. It wasn't until the sun rose that Emma allowed herself to drift off the same way, safe and sound beside her friend.

Chapter Text

Her father was there for her.

Taylor had woken the night after her return to Brockton Bay in Emma's bed, the redhead still asleep. She had slipped out, headed downstairs with the intention to make herself a bowl of her favourite sugar cereal (the Barnes kept a box of it always set aside for her) to find her father at the table with a cup of joe in one hand and a phone utterly depleted of charge beside it. 

He looked, for want of a better term, like shit, big black bags under his eyes and shoulder slumped. 

She barely had a moment before she was enveloped in a Dad™ hug, had he stayed up the entire night so that he could be awake when she got up? Had he even slept in the last twenty-four hours? It didn't look like it, but the fact that he had waited up for her...

As she would find out later, the PRT had taken quit the verbal thrashing from an enraged Daniel Hebert, who had had the director of PRT ENE on the phone for over two and a half hours in what would later come to be recorded as the single longest phone call Director Piggot had ever had to endure at the hands of a civilian.

Apparently, the calls to various other parties, including with the Youth Guard had been even longer, and she could scarcely imagine just what was going to come of them. In a strange state father and daughter remained for a little bit, despite it being just a few days so much had happened in that time that it almost felt like weeks, once more Taylor recounted everything that had happened at his insistance. 

Her father listened passively, only once she got to the event that cost her arm did he inquire for more details, a vein pulsing in his temple. But he was so tired that rather than getting full on angry he simply simmered.

Towards the end of that conversation Zoe Barnes entered the room wrapped up in a big, fluffy dressing gown and, after saying her greetings, revealed that she had tried to 'take that blasted phone away from him' to make sure that he would not wake up Emma and Taylor. 

That her father simply went into the somewhat expansive garden of the Barnes and continued the calls there had made her chuckle, imagining her father trampling the lawn and flower beds at four in the morning as he terrorised various governmental agencies. 

Taylor couldn't find it in her heart to feel bad about siccing her father on the PRT. 

Actually... It made her feel a little happy.

Her dad loved her, he really did, it felt odd to think in a strange way, were other people proud of her? Had the PRT been proud of her efforts with the bubbles, would they say as much when she next went in, would she become known as the breaker of bubbles, the destroyer of Gray Boy loops? Who knows what sort of weird fame she could achieve with that; she had tried not to think about it much. Her power was simple and boring, but if she became known for helping those people, would she even take pleasure from it?

Well, perhaps it would be nice to have people recognise her for something like that. 

"Taylor---"

"Dad, I want the prosthetics." She did not prevaricate like last time, did not feel the same doubt or hesitancy. Last time her father had been firm that it was something she could consider, that he had started talks about it. But had her own feelings been so obvious to him that he had felt guilt, or worried about it all? 

The look of relief that crossed her fathers face said it all. 

"Emma is going to get treatment as well, we've already confirmed it, so you won't be doing it alone Taylor," Zoe had said as she put half a grapefruit on a plate in front of her, causing Taylor to wrinkle her nose. Auntie Zoe always insisted on fruit at breakfast, but Taylor hated grapefruit. 

"I'm glad," she really was.

Returning to Ward duties felt odd.

Donning the outfit of Ordinant, the newest Ward of Brockton Bay felt subtly wrong.

The last time she wore the semi-armoured outfit she had killed a man with the same ease one would crush a grape, and as she did so she wondered when a replacement would arrive; the arm was ruined after all and she would rather have a replacement that could hide away the crystal.

At least in her room in the Ward's quarters she could set up the little star display (Boston had sent it on, apparently) and change in peace without the feeling of eyes on her back.

Was Coleson somewhere in the building, she wondered. It had been a few days since the Boston debacle and she had not heard about him, she hoped he was okay.

She rather had the feeling that a lot of people were walking on eggshells now, there had been a lot of messages from various folks in the last three days since her return; power testing appointments keen to get her in and PR wanting to speak with her as well to discuss things 'going forward'. Frankly, she had wanted to tell both to shove their meetings. 

But practicality won out, she had scheduled them for the future, because frankly she was not going to be doing any active hero-ing until after she recovered from the operations. 

Tonight, she was just on console duty. She probably would be for quite awhile.

Stepping out of her room and returning to the main room, she found that somebody else had arrived.

"Hey, Ordinant."

It was Gallant, he was not due to be on patrol tonight, was he? She had only been away for a few days but the schedules had gotten all messed up in her head.

"Hey," self-consciously, she put her arm behind her back. 

"We heard what happened," he sounded apologetic, Taylor felt her heart sinking at that. "You broke some of Grey Boy's bubbles, right? That's amazing you know, we actually held a party to celebrate for you, we were gonna’ send pictures but then Clock froze the phone," he said, a small hint of amusement to his tone. 

She could see it; it brought just the smallest of unbidden smiles to her lips. 

"Yeah, I broke them... not sure how much quality of life those people will have though..."

"That's still amazing, you know... I can't imagine what they've been through."

"Yeah..." she was not about to comment further on that, she could still see the things that the man she killed had been going through, it was such an unmitigated horror that it made her feel sick just dwelling on it for too long. "It was rough, probably against some laws for me to be seeing it to be honest but I am glad I could help them at least..."

Gallant stared at her for a few moments, that mostly featureless, sci-fi style helmet was utterly blank whilst she had her lower face for showing expressions.

"... You ever need to talk, we're here you know, Ordinant,"

It was so strange to hear. 

For the longest time it was just Emma that she could talk to about things like that, or at least, she was the only person who understood. 

"... Thanks."

She was not sure if she would, to be honest. 

Was it even possible for people who did not have the crystallisation to understand what it was like? But the gesture, the sentiment was there, and she was not so far down the rabbit hole that she could not recognise that.

"You guys heard about... my arm, right?"

"Yes." He was straight up about it, and after a moment she reluctantly brought her arm from behind her back. She could not tell if Gallant looked at it---

"Do you mind if I take the helmet off? I don't really bother with it around teammates," he asked. Taylor blinked at the completely normal tone of voice, as if he was not suddenly looking at a girl with an arm made of solid rock---oh wait, was he trying to distract her? Like a nurse with a needle asking about your holidays right before sticking it in?

"O-Okay, sure."

She knew that Wards unmasked around one another, but it was surreal for one of them to be doing it to her.

"Normally we get to the mask off stage earlier in knowing each other," he joked, "but you went to Boston so quick that we never got to do face to face introductions, I'm Dean," with that he took the helmet off, revealing a handsome young man below, one who had a smile on his lips. 

"Taylor," she said automatically, then realised that she still had her visor on, and reached up to take it off.

"Don't feel obliged to unmask, if you don't want," Dean offered, but she still gripped the little catch that disconnected it from the rest of the headpiece. 

"Nah... it's okay," she took it off, setting the visor aside.

"You mind me telling the others? They'll probably want to do proper face to face's soon as well."

"Yeah... that would be nice."

Sat in a doctor’s chair, Taylor watched the visiting cape from New York look over her file.

Prosthetist was a small woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties who dressed in slacks and looked far too relaxed to be any sort of medical professional. Her left hand looked to be made of small porcelain plates placed over machinery, it moved in such a smooth, even way that it looked just a little uncanny. She seemed pleasant enough in conversation, but when it came to examining Taylor for the purpose of the procedure...

"Okay then. If I may?"

Taylor dutifully rolled up the sleeve of her outfit to allow the Tinker access to her arm, looking away as the woman leaned down. 

The edges of the crystal had started to ache, just like at the edge of the material on her legs. A reminder that the material did not care for its gains in the last week, that it wanted more. The flesh was inflamed around it, the immune system trying to fight it back unsuccessfully even with the assistance of her power.

A tap from a metallic probe.

"We'll take it from here," a finger poked into her skin, a centimetre or so above the crystallisation. "According to the X-Rays the crystallisation is almost perfectly evenly distributed and hasn't spread any quicker to the bone and surrounding muscular structure, yes?" The question was more for the nearby medical staff as it was for her. 

"Yes, although on the legs the crystal has advanced a few centimetres further up the femur then is visible on the surface."

"We'll have to remove an additional few inches to be sure."

Numb, Taylor idly twitched her fingers to distract herself from the medical talk as she was almost ignored in this all.

Prosthetist had a terrible bedside manner.

Emma had her appointment after hers, she would have to hear the exact same blunt statements about how much of her body she would be losing. Emma would have the procedure before her, they had not said it, but she could tell why, to use as a test to make sure it would work. The thought made her sick, that Emma would be being used as the trial run... but then again, the sooner Emma was safe, the better.

When she got out, she would put on a smile and make it seem as if it was nothing much, that would help allay any worries or concerns that her friend would have about this little appointment. Yeah... so long as Emma felt safe and happy, then that would be consolation enough for Taylor. 

Ordinant had been invited to Armsmaster's workshop.

It was a rare honour, most never had the opportunity.

At the moment it was shared between Brockton’s home town Tinker and Prosthetist however.

"You're a lucky Ordinant, most crystallisation victims never had this option," Armsmaster was saying. "As it is, you will likely need yearly check ups and maintenance on your new limbs, but they are coming along well. Prosthetist has done the majority of the work, but I offered to take a look as well and see if I can make some additions."

Lucky? Lucky?!

Slowly Taylor turned her head to focus on the tinker rather than his work.

It would be so selfish to correct him, to question him.

But if a person ever called her lucky again then she might just inflict violence on them. She was coming to hate that word.

Looking back to the arm on the bench, she did not bother with a response. The prosthetic was intricate and beautiful, but incomplete. 

A little piece of machinery delicately installed here, a poke with a tool there and the arm twitched. It was so quiet as well, barely above a low whirr. It was a marvel of engineering between two geniuses. So, this was a Tinker at work, there were videos online that showed famous Tinkers performing their maintenance or even creating new things. A video of the late Hero had accrued hundreds of millions of views, dozens of comments every day discussing the incredible work he did and his legacy.

"... Do you want anything special?"

"Pardon?"

"A lot of people, from my research, take a while to adjust to prosthetics, with a greater chance of depression and body dysmorphia," Armsmaster began, bluntly. "The standard solution is to attempt to replicate the natural skin colour to decrease the extent of alienation---" he stopped himself suddenly and she had the distinct impression that he was frowning. The others had said that Armsmaster could be a little... blunt. 

But he was trying. 

"Sorry. I---we, know that this will be a tough time for your Ordinant, I want to make your replacements as close to perfect for you as possible, if you want slightly longer nails for the hand, for instance, or cosmetic alterations that would help you adjust better."

Somehow, that question made her want to cry.

"It's... it's alright, sir. Sorry. Just having an arm will do, to be honest."

She really was being selfish, she found herself looking away with a pit of guilt forming in her stomach.

"... Are you alright?"

"... No, no I don't think that I am."

It was a strange thing to admit, but Armsmaster nodded. He leaned back from the table and looked at her, although with his visor perhaps the expression he was sending her way was a little muted.

"We are not going to be expecting much from you in the next few weeks as you adjust, Ordinant." The delivery was blunt, and perhaps he recognised that. "This is a big thing, and I have known other people who were in the same situation."

But those people could visit Panacea. For whatever reason, she had been firmly told in the past that no, regrowing a new leg was not a solution. But cold, hard practicality that had settled over her.

"The department is organising some therapy appointments to help you adjust, I know that you are not keen on them, at least your documents say so, but it will be a major part of your recovery and hopefully will let you come to terms with things faster."

Some of those things did not need to be said. Taylor hated therapists, she had been forced to see one once when she idly commented that the crystal felt safe and familiar. After that, she had avoided such topics and done her best to hide away. She hated having to speak so openly about her feelings on things with strangers, but that was over a year ago. The world had kept turning and now she was in this situation. It was likely a good thing, really. 

Anything to help her get over all this.

For a few minutes she simply watched Armsmaster continue to work on her new arm.

The arm was the priority treatment, because if the crystallisation spread to the shoulder, then there would be little if anything that could be done to save her. The legs were comparatively far away, they could be left a few weeks longer if needed.

"Do you think that my powers will extend to the new limbs?"

"I doubt it, to be frank, but your power has proven a unique case in other ways, perhaps you will be lucky."

Her fist clenched automatically.

Chapter Text

With a tub of grapes in one hand and selection of flowers in the other, Taylor waited patiently outside the door. 

Beyond, she could hear conversation, the deep voice of a man and a pair of female voices, sometimes soft, something unable to hide their joy. She had been hovering awkwardly outside the door for well over five minutes now, trying to wait for a lull in the conversation, trying to find the right moment. Was she supposed to wait until it was her turn, in this circumstance? That seemed like the correct thing to do in many ways, but at the same time she really, really wanted to see how things were. 

Finally, she found the confidence to knock on the door awkwardly, some small part of her hoping that it would not be heard. But if it wasn't heard... she would have to knock again.

After a moment, the door opened.

It was Anne, the elder Barnes daughter who had come back from college to spend time with Emma after the procedure, and upon seeing Taylor she smiled, a bigger, happier smile than Taylor had seen from the girl in years. 

"Taylor!"

She had to move the grapes to the side to make sure they did not get squished between herself and Anne, awkwardly standing in place trying to hug back purely with her forearms. 

"Hey Anne, how are things?" 

"I---great, she's still woozy but she's conscious, they're all working, the work is incredible! I'm so relieved..." Anne pulled back, and Taylor could see the faintest hints of tears in the corner of the young woman’s eyes, as if the realisation that all was well had only just hit and now she was catching up on the emotions. Taylor could sympathise, despite the hours that she had been obsessively checking her phone, when the message came through from Alan to say that all was okay and the surgery was over she had just stared at the words for a good five minutes, struggling to comprehend it all. 

Emma was safe.

And then she broke down and blubbed in her room for a good fifteen minutes, then jumped to her feet, a great rush of energy seeing her out of the house and grabbing the presents before bullying dad into taking her to the PRT building.

"You'll be next, right? I mean, um, I heard what happened, Emma wouldn't say exactly but... yeah," Anne looked to the crystallised hand holding the flowers. Despite her perfectly normal control over the limb, she had been worried to hold the grapes with the arm, on the off chance she crushed them to pulp. 

"Yeah, I'm tomorrow," she said, trying to sound positive.

If it worked for Emma, then it would work for her. The sooner they lopped off the loathsome limbs the better, even if it would restrict the touch related part of her power. But now that she could use it in a more directed manner, so did that really matter? It would be hard to adjust, but she would have physiotherapy, and apparently Prosthetist’s limbs were almost like having normal ones with only a little adjustment. 

"... Ah what the hell, come in Taylor, mum and dad won't mind you," Anne said, and opened the door. "Guys, Taylor's here!"

Alan Barnes looked as though he had been through a war, Zoe was clutching Emma's hand, both looking towards the door and at her. 

"Hey Taylor, come in, she only woke up about an hour ago."

Taylor stepped in, looking towards Emma.

"... You're looking good, Emma," Taylor said, smiling at her friend.

Despite her own fears and concerns, she was glad that the procedure had gone so well. 

"Hey Taaaay," Emma was still somewhat zonked out it seemed, her gaze was a little glassy even as she raised the prosthetic arm and gave her a little wave. It looked so natural, it was not until Taylor looked closer that she could see some of the joints in the material, the new limb articulated so naturally that from a small distance away it appeared perfectly normal. Her legs were covered by the blanket, but they were unmistakably there.

Taylor took a seat at the bedside, setting down the grapes and the flowers, Emma's eyes followed them both but without really seeing or comprehending them.

"Thanks for coming to see me Taaay" she said.

"Of course I'd come to see you Emma." She had been waiting all day for that call. "I know you like lily's, um, we might need to ask for a jug or something to put them in."

"Hehe, how nice, you're nice to me Taylor, I've missed you..."

Taylor was not sure of just how cognizant of her surroundings Emma really was, would she normally say something like that, something with such weight and gravitas? Well, it did not matter, normally it was Taylor who was somewhat socially unaware of the two of them, she would forgive it from her friend when she was drugged to the gills.

"How are you feeling?" Taylor asked to distract Emma. Not that the others seemed to mind much.

"Great! Yeah, it's... it doesn't ache anymore," she sounded positively delirious.

Taylor glanced at Zoe, Alan, and Anne, all of whom seemed just a little concerned.

"... Probably just the drugs, she was talking about pink elephants when she woke up," Alan said with some small, slightly strained humor.

"After you I won't hear anything again, we'll be free..." the way Emma said that, there was so much relief, so much happiness in her words, the weight behind the statement was enormous. 

"Yeah, you are. I'm so glad for you Emma," she patted the redhead’s hand. "I'll be having my operation tomorrow---"

"I'll come visit you!" an instant statement, it was the first time Emma had not sounded just a little zonked out, although the practicality of her promise was another matter, would they even let Emma come visit her? They might just keep Taylor in the same ward anyway, they would be able to have drug-fuelled conversation with one another across the room.

When all was said and done, Taylor did not really have long to speak with Emma. The redhead wanted her to stay, and had even taken Taylor's hand in a fierce grip but eventually she succumbed to her own exhaustion and the drugs, falling asleep.

Returning to the corridor outside, Taylor felt a little of the nerves in her gut settle even if her arm and legs were aching where the crystal joined flesh.

Zoe and Anne both gave her a big hug, a kiss on the cheek and thanked her for coming along before they left to head out to the car. Alan though waited behind, hands behind his back as if waiting for them to go. When they had turned the corner, he spoke up. 

"Are you ready for tomorrow, Taylor?"

She looked away, rubbing at her elbow.

"Yeah... it's kind of scary to think about, but seeing Emma makes it a bit better... y'know?"

"Yeah, I can get that. She was worried as well, but she's a trooper," Alan sounded proud, and Taylor nodded. "We're so glad that you've been there for her, Taylor."

"Oh, um... well, she's my friend."

'Of course I would be'  went unspoken.

Alan's smile was a little fixed at that. 

"Yeah, well, a lot of people didn't think so but you've stuck with Emma through it all, I genuinely am not sure what things would have been like without you Taylor." To that Taylor could only stare, trying to think of the right words. What did you say to that? All that time she had just... done it. Alan looked from side to side a little self-consciously, then said, in a low voice. "Without you Emma might not have even gotten this treatment, so... thank you so much Taylor, anything we can do, just let us know," and with that he gave her a hug, a quick, tight thing that she got the impression was trying to say a lot in just a moment in time. 

She hugged him back.

"Thanks, uncle Alan," she was a bit old to call him uncle, perhaps, but still. 

"Let us know when you come out and we'll visit you, or have your dad do it, you'll probably be completely zoned out as well but we want to see you too, we'll bring Emma if we can."

"Thanks, um... thanks so much."

A final hug, and then she was alone as the man rejoined his family, and Taylor made her way back to the car.

Sitting waiting for something was a feeling she once hated.

Now, Taylor was used to it. 

Sitting in a nest of blankets on her bed, her eyes tracked the heavens created by her little projector, sat in the room's centre. It was far more pretty, but equally as accurate as the patterns she had set up over the years with her sticky backs. Although the projector felt a little off in some ways, it did not really matter, she was just glad that Boston allowed her to keep the device after everything that happened. 

Not that she did not kind of deserve it seeing what happened. 

That bit of bitterness was going to stay for a while. 

But anyway, Taylor was used to waiting, whether it be waiting for the next class, waiting to hear back from patrolling Wards, or even waiting to hear back about her results. Waiting patiently was something she did well now despite how she used to be so anxious to avoid that sensation when she was younger. 

She had her surgery tomorrow, and despite the knowledge that she really should be asleep... she could not. Was it nerves on some level? Was it the fact that for so long she had dreamed and hoped for some miracle cure, and now, on some level, it was happening? 

She was all drawn into her own thoughts. She did that a lot, actually. 

The computer screen on her desk opposite was dark. She had not felt that consuming drive to use it in the last few days and dive into information.

Well, that was not necessarily correct.

Taylor had felt the urge, but had not indulged in it, too busy keeping up with all the things going on in her life. She felt a little angsty, a little nervous, and in the past drowning in information had helped to settle those nerves.

But resolutely she stayed in her blanket nest and focused on the stars. Those distant heavens, in them there was real comfort, not in endless data. Stars watched down on a person all their lives, the same stars had seen the entire of Human history, what would it be like, to sit at the edge of the solar system as it was forming and watch, at accelerated speed, the dust cloud condense into a protostar, and then the birth of the planets, the creation of the narrow conditions for life on Earth and Earth alone?

Well, there was other life out there of course. 

Taylor had no doubt of that. 

The Spider was an indication of that, even if it was an Endbringer it still came from the stars. Didn't the Simurgh come from the moon or something like that, as well? But Behemoth came from the bowels of the earth and Leviathan... probably just came out of the sea. 

Alright, enough of that. She would not ruin her thoughts by dwelling on the Endbringer’s. Instead, she checked her phone, logging in to check the support group to find a string of new messages, which was often a bad sign.

MagPies76 : Hello, I hope I have the right group. My name is Kirsten, Jame's sister, unfortunately he cannot use the text to speech anymore and to be honest he doesn't have much time left. He wants anyone who can to come to his funeral and I know its a bother but please can anyone who can do so? We cannot scatter his ashes but it's just going to be a memorial service when it happens.

Ra1ndrops : I'm sorry to hear that Kirsten, im literally crying James was so nice to me on my first day when I was all nervous I'll make sure i can come

SkySkyDaydream : I can't move anymore but I'll see if I can get them to give me a day out.

CreateRandom : So sorry Kirsten, please give james a hug from me, i'm not far i can come vist in hospital again?

CreateRandom : *visit

MagPies76 : That would be lovely Joe I am sure James would love to see you one last time.

Could she tell the group? Most of them were so far along... she and Emma were l... l... lucky, they could be saved but almost all the other members of the group were crystallised much further, even up their torso. She knew for sure that Ra1ndrops and CreateRandom, aka Aimee and Joe were in wheelchairs by now, because they posted pictures of a family barbeque and sports game they visited respectively.

Her fingers tapped out the message, consolations were coming in. Once there had been a lot more, but by now there were far fewer who could give kind words.

Another memorial service, Taylor had gotten used to those over the last two years, she had been to seven of them for her fellow sufferers. 

LittleOwl : I'm so sorry to hear that Kirsten, please say hello from Taylor, I only got to meet James for that week but I've thought about him a lot since then.

That was the sort of thing to write, in truth Taylor had never really known the boy, he was rather annoying at the camp, overly enthusiastic and loud... but he was also nice enough to the kids who were scared and unsure about themselves, the sort of person who just innately drew people out of their shell.

But she could also imagine him, two years older than the somewhat athletic youth, lying in a hospital bed, consumed up to his mouth by the crystal, feeling it slowly crawling upwards towards his brain, aware of every moment of it. 

This was the fate that she would get to avoid, this was the fate that Emma had already been saved from. Would she even be able to send that message to the group chat about a potential salvation, when most of them were so far along that one would have to cut their lower body off to prevent the crystal spreading further? She could press it in a great rush, and then it would be sent... but would it make a difference to them all?

No. 

But she wanted to help. 

You cannot save everyone, though.

Sighing, she wrapped the blanket tighter around her.

Later in the night, as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, Taylor saw a text come in. 

Command (priority)  : Alert to all available Protectorate members. Lung is rampaging in the docks and has engaged the Undersiders, all off duty non-Ward members requested.  

Even later, barely awake, she would get another message to say that Lung had been apprehended, and she smiled. That was good news, a big win for the PRT, maybe it would help things in Brockton Bay a little and de-escalate some of the recent gang tensions?

Chapter Text

Something was moving past.

A pair of vast beings, things she had not seen before. Other objects had moved through the cloud before, through the teeming planetesimals and comets that was her home, but never something like what she observed now.

They were such a vast distance away, but she could see their sinuous, slithering forms. In the aeons she had known she had not encountered such a form of life. Something that had evolved on the other side of the cloud of comets? It had been long since she had wandered through some of the patches of crystalline debris. Or did they come from outside of the system? Whatever the case, they were in her domain, if they were native yet unencountered, then she would devour them to analyse the species for traits, if they were intruders then she would do the same.

Rising for the first time since a distant supernova had exploded, she curled up her limbs closer to her main body and departed from the surface of the crystal covered planetesimal she was on.

And now, a third one? Yes, it moved in a different manner, though. It slithered and squirmed, space distorted between the trio,

The larger of the pair and the third interacted, entwined, specks of golden light passed between them. Perhaps some manner of replication cycle like the one perpetrated by the living creatures within the crystal forests? As she continued her approach they remained in this state, only to break apart swiftly, the pair moved on, the third remained, slithering onwards.

S̜̑h͓̄e͍͗ would catch up, she would destroy the interloper.

It continued its way, had it failed to notice her?

She was close now.

A burst of some manner, electromagnetic radiation. It thought i͈ͤt̻ͨ/̤̐(̖̚ș͑ḧ̙́ḛ̅?̠̓)͓̔ was like it? Something of the same breed.

The distance continued to close, she was already closing vast distances at a time, another burst, stronger, it was coiling over itself, a defensive posture? Preparing for battle.

She released the full power of her nuclear heart, the surrounding void lit up as her body became a miniature sun.

The intruder recoiled, the final burst she received the most powerful yet. Her silver threads reached across the void, the revolution web snaring around the thing and pulling it in as she drew closer and closer. In a span of moments, they were engaged as the battle began.

Data.

Vast streams of it.

The creature was composed of it, and even if she only absorbed one-tenth of the information within, it would be sufficient to provide for millions of years of low-priority analysis. But right now, she was not doing anything of low priority. Concepts filled her mind that she had never conceived of before, alternate universes, the Cycle? Across countless worlds in countless realities there were other civilisations, nests of intelligent lifeforms that had been manipulated and observed by the creature.

She ripped and dug into it with claws and limbs even as she continued to burn like a miniature star.

The creature was a glut of information, and she fed and devoured as she tore and burned her way into it.

The void around them warped and changed, it became solid, it became reactive gas, it moved backwards in time and in multiple timelines. To each alteration she enforced her own dominion over it to return it to how it was. This was her territory, no matter what it did to change it this was her home and she would not see it changed.

The interloper was vast, enormous, even if it was smaller than the other two of its kind.

It was annihilating her mass and she was replacing it as quickly, it was trying to alter her molecular composition and warp her own structure, but she adapted to each new weapon. It ceased all possible organic life in a single moment and she promptly redefined her existence around a new concept.

A golden beam of light annihilated much of her multi-limbed body and pierced her core, within a moment she had repaired and restored.

Each effort she picked apart, adapted to, the golden beams were not working; it changed them. Suddenly it was dozens of smaller beams, focused, that cut like blades to dismember her limbed body. 

Countered. 

Now those same beams were adapted into an inviolable lance that pierced through her core, aimed with the intention of destroying some manner of critical cognition centre.

She did not have one in the first place.

When it tried again she warped gravity through her supercell, in combination with one of its own powers, to send the golden lance right back at it, piercing the great beast with its own weapon.

It forced half of her body into a dimension of utter cold in which the stars were dead, then closed the gap to bifurcate her, she grew back. It developed dozens of spiked limbs tipped with a material as dense as the core of a neutron star and hammered away at her, she ripped them off, adapted her supercell to burn them entirely before they could make contact.

It was learning just as swiftly as her, one of its next attempts reduced her down to a solitary limb.

And the next. It was getting better at fighting her---

She demanded backup from the Cloud of Comets.

She restored and fired back with her own beams, each equal to the output of a solar flare and rapidly growing as the Cloud of Comets increased the energy it supplied her by orders of magnitude, punching holes straight through the creature just as it was on the cusp of victory.

The frozen planetesimals around them, strewn with crystalline life, were annihilated by the heat and the blasts of the cosmic battle between the two of them. She was digging in, deeper, deeper---

Space and time imploded in on itself as the creature fled from her silver web, what means it used to do so she did not know, but at once it had travelled a vast distance away, and it was slithering through the void with incredible speed.

I̳̚t̪ͭ(̻͆ṣͮh̲̀e͎͒?̮̄)̼ͯ had feasted and grown, destroyed and burned the third interloper. Even if s̫͆̒ḫ̱̍̒e̞͆/̫̈i̫̹͂t͎̓ͣ could not catch up with it...

For a long while s͈̺̃h̼͙̿ͯe̥͚̿ͫ/͎̦̑̃̔ͤi̭̼͗ť̜̭ͮͤ floated there, pouring over information, adapting, refining, positing. Such a strange organism, its notions, its theories, they were both incredibly limited yet incredibly advanced, it was as if millions of singular beings had conglomerated, a collective intelligence dispersed and unified yet also limited.

A call. A planet from the solar system.

It was a desperate, frantic thing.

The other pair had impacted it. It? Alternate versions. Alternate realities. The data i̫͊t̻̥͍̹͌/̥̊̚s̯̱͈͖̓ͭ́̊h̘̎͊͆̑ḙͧ was harvesting from this interaction was more than i̷̳̰͛̚i̫͊t̻̥͍̹͌/̥̊̚s̯̱͈͖̓ͭ́̊h̘̎͊͆̑ḙͧ had over the aeons of s̬̲̒̄̊h̦̤̾̿é̫̍/̙̐i̜̘̔̀t̝ͥs͖̗͖ͯ existence.

The planet was one of the smaller ones. Weaker. It lacked a planetary guardian due to the emergence of intelligent life on its surface.

And now some other version of it had been impacted due to it being the target of this species 'Cycle', the first 'hosts' were starting to emerge now. Observation and experimentation would occur, and then the planet would be destroyed. That was little concern to the Oort Cloud and i̭ͮͩ̽̿̈̎t͓̠̘͖̳͐ͭͬ̀̀ͅ/͇͓̝̣͗ͤ ͔̹͍̙̘͌ͧ̑̐̾h̠͔̓ͩ̓̂e͓̰̼̠͓͐ͪ̈́r͙̠ͮ by extension, the destruction of a planet would not impact the cloud of comets.

But, why had not the others responded?

i̭ͮͩ̽̿̈̎t͓̠̘͖̳͐ͭͬ̀̀ͅ paused. This line of inquiry had i̭ͮͩ̽̿̈̎t͓̠̘͖̳͐ͭͬ̀̀ͅ/͇͓̝̣͗ͤ ͔̹͍̙̘͌ͧ̑̐̾h̠͔̓ͩ̓̂e͓̰̼̠͓͐ͪ̈́r͙̠ͮ pondering as her secondary processes filtered the new data in the background.

The other planetary guardians were closer, there were multiple gas giants that could respond, and which were closer. Yet that planet was still sending out its message, only for the attempt to be silenced swiftly.

The invading life form, had they blocked off the call? Wait, a different inquiry line.

S̜̖̞̱͒͒ͯ̔h̥͉̜͉̫͋̀̌ẹ̱̈̈́̍̔́̈́/͕͇̠͕̦̫̓ͩͫͧ̋͛i̙͈̬̮̥̖ͫ͛͊t̬̥͙͚̹̮ͧ̈́̅ͯ was only hearing the call because she had partially assimilated the appropriate abilities from the third. The other planets would not hear.

Ḭ̲̆ͫ̌̇t͍̃ͨ was not h̹̓e͔̖ͬ̈ͯ̐̔ř͕̟̟̗̻̼̳͑ duty to respond.

S͍̭ͦ̿̇̂̓̊ͤh͈̺̘͕ͤ̎ͅe͇̪͎̩̲̻̟̽̂̃̍̿/̳̰̜͙̈̆̈́̈́ȉ̻͈̬̮̳̽̊̔͌̏ẗ̤ͩ̃͋ had done her part. It was insignificant if the planet was destroyed. However, the vast amounts of data i̶̙̠̋́̎́̈̄͘t̸̩̖̬̳̻̺̊̈͊ had gleaned had already drastically enhanced its understandings. What further glut of information existed in those two larger specimens? There was much s̘̬̔͆͋͑h͙ͦ̌ͣͭ̈́̚ḙ͎͖͎̥̬̗̓̑̄ͬ͑ was missing, much i̜̥̯̯̫̚t͔͓̮͎ͤ̔̂͒s̞͍͉̃̓̋̅/̙̖̗̱͙͕ͫͅh̘̣̒ͮȅ̲͓̼̹̣͍̀ͣ͛ͧ̽r̜̼̔̿̈/͙͈̉̃̿̽̍̎w̦͇͙͈̦̐͆ḙ̮̲̝̟̂̓̓̾ needed to know. 

S͍̭ͦ̿̇̂̓̊ͤh͙ͦ̌ͣͭ̈́̚ḙ͎͖͎̥̬̗̓̑̄ͬ͑ wished to feed more.

i͍̯͍͑̇ͅͅt̤̃͂̓̚/̼̲̜͖̇ͮ̆ͅs͇̳͍̥̈́ͩ͛̓ḣ̲͎̤͎̔e̩̝̬̫ͮ̄ would follow and devour and consume. They were parasites, interdimensional parasites that fed on life. Not life like ĭ͙̊̒ͬ̽̇̒ͅt͙̬̜̺̫ͭͧ/̯͒ͪ͂ĥ̳̻̪͙͈̳̙̫̑e̠̼͆͒r̼̹̖̝̲͗̅ͬ̍̑͊̌, but on far more simple things. If the other planetary guardians would not hear the call, then it fell upon Ḭ̲̆ͫ̌̇t͍̃ͨ to do so.

They had passed through i̜̥̯̯̫̚t͔͓̮͎ͤ̔̂͒s̞͍͉̃̓̋̅/̙̖̗̱͙͕ͫͅh̘̣̒ͮȅ̲͓̼̹̣͍̀ͣ͛ͧ̽r̜̼̔̿̈ domain anyway. Once more s̘̬̔͆͋͑h͙ͦ̌ͣͭ̈́̚ḙ͎͖͎̥̬̗̓̑̄ͬ͑ pulled h̹̓e͔̖ͬ̈ͯ̐̔ř͕̟̟̗̻̼̳͑ legs in and let loose a brief pulse of h̹̓e͔̖ͬ̈ͯ̐̔ř͕̟̟̗̻̼̳͑ nuclear heart, moving towards the inner system. S͍̭ͦ̿̇̂̓̊ͤh͙ͦ̌ͣͭ̈́̚ḙ͎͖͎̥̬̗̓̑̄ͬ͑ passed the dwarf planets, past the gas giants and further inwards. Nothing impeded h̹̓e͔̖ͬ̈ͯ̐̔ř͕̟̟̗̻̼̳͑, even the largest of life forms within the cloud had adapted to h̹̓e͔̖ͬ̈ͯ̐̔ř͕̟̟̗̻̼̳͑ presence to such levels that they fled on sight, the kilometre wide crystal beings that fed on the radiation of distant stars, the ravenous packs of small beings that prowled and hunted the spaces between the crystal comets and planetesimals, all made way out of h̹̓e͔̖ͬ̈ͯ̐̔ř͕̟̟̗̻̼̳͑ path as much space as they could.

As i͍̯͍͑̇ͅͅt̤̃͂̓̚/̼̲̜͖̇ͮ̆ͅs͇̳͍̥̈́ͩ͛̓ḣ̲͎̤͎̔e̩̝̬̫ͮ̄ approached i̺̪̩̒ͪͤẗ̰̣̬́̔̌ͭ/̘͇̻͉͛̍̌ͪͦ̌s̫͓̳̜̝ͬ̂ͧͥ̐͌h̝̤̮̯̃̃͐̂̃e̟̱̘͙͚̞̅̅̔̋ͩ͒ reformed h̲̫̻̝̘̘̄ͮẹ̱ͧ̀ͬ͑ͮr̠̜̻̗̊ͭ̈́̀͐ existence around new concepts, taking information from the consumed fragments of the third being.

If, on a conceptual level, s͇̫̓͑̏̾h̞̰̙͐ͫ̏e̟̹̠̙ͣ̇͗ was no different from those Shards, then the beings would have no capacity to recognise ẖ̦̫̻̮̑͂̋̄͛̓e͉͚͓͍̜ͮ͆ͅr̞̱̞͙̼̪ͫͮ̈́ as any different. The muted calls of the planet were again audible now, the recognition of their arrival as it flooded h͎ͥ͆̈e̲̝̓r̰̙ͪ̅̓̂̿̇ with information, directing h̝͚͖̲̆͋̔͆̽e̖̯̜̹ͮ̆̓̄ͅͅr̬̼͕̣̲͈̈́ to fall somewhere away from the civilised population.

Insignificant.

As the guardian, as the U̼̬̜ͭͬ̆͐͂ͭ̅̔l̯͈̖͈̯̹̪̱̿̄͆̊̌ͫ͒͊ͦ̎t̹̦͖̻̯̙̟͓͎̭̅̿i̦͓͒̎m̥͈͈͇̫̞̘͒ͬͫͪ͑ͨ̈́̒a͉͍͍̪͓̳͕̻̱̔̅͗t͍̘̤̪̠̯̦͖̳̫ͫ̃ͧ̽̓̂͛ͪ̚e̳̪͎̣̣ͫͣͫ̂ ̲̳͕̖̥̩͑ͤ͛̍ͥ̇O͖̻͉̝͚̮͖͚̔ͤͪ̿ͥ̄̋̽n̰̹̉͊̂̓͌͂͐̑e͖͙̦̝̠̳̬̖̐ͧ̃̅̐̋̽͛ of the cloud of comets, ĩ͈͓͈̻̻͕̝̲̏͂̇͂t̙̣ͧ̓ͩ̔͑/͎͑͋̒͒͂̃̓̒s͙̟̬̤̬̯̞̳ͤ̽ͫͧ̃͂̓h̜̲̆́̀̓͋͋̑e͖͚̞ͫͅ/͎̽ͫ̚w̠̲̪͙̜̘̮ͬ̊̅̽̈́e̫̤̫̘̰̤̗̞̽ͮ̉̀ was here to answer the call.

D̳͙̯̖̯ͨͮ̐͆͗̐̚ê̼͍̬̥͕͌̓ͅp̻͈̤̻̠̭̬͇̫̘̩͑̓ͧl͖̳̳̠̝͙̭̬̺̟̣̪ͤ̌̑̎ͭͮo̘̙̠̟̜͕̠͍̳̿̽ͥͧ͗͗ͣ̒̔ͩͥỹ͚̹̥̘͍̹̣̋̓͛̐ͧi̠̤͖̲̞͎̭̞͕̋̿ͮ͋͌̏͆̋̚n͚̪̘̯̱̎ͪ̇̐́̂̇̌́ͅg̥͓̻̬̊ ̺͔͉͈̠̥͕̮͍̝̀̀́ͮ͊ͤ͐͗c̭͂ͬ̏ͭ̉ͫͩ̑͐o͚͍̮̖̮͆̑̓ͪͯ̍̄u͎͈̝͈̾̾̎n̯̯̼͍̼̦̬̟̥͎̿ͭͨ̏ͯ͑̈́ͅt̫̺̬͍̩̥̥̱̞̖̰̊̓̀ͨ͋ͨ̑̓̌ͮͩͨĕ̱̻͇ͥͮ̊̑̒ͯ̒ͤ͆ͪ̋r̪̥͇̭̩͉̪̞̺͛m̭̬̺͉̣̜̖͔̗̹͊̔͛̊̇ͩͤ̎̔e̩͉̥̊͂̔̒ͧ͋̄̅̊ͬa͙͈̞ͨͫ̈́ś̞̗͇͇̟̋ͧ͛u̱̦ͬ̈́ͭ͑̓̾ͯ͗ͦ̎̓̍ŕ̗̣͇̮̻̩̭̻̬̥̗͌̉ͩ̃̾͛͗͂ͭ̐ͅe̦͇͚͂̊̓̿͑s̗̬̲̄ͯ̒̌̽̔̉̓

(Deploying countermeasures)

Chapter Text

Taylor sat with her hands in her lap, patiently staring at the director of the Brockton Bay PRT.

The director stared back.

She had such a boring office, Taylor thought idly. 

Bland, featureless. Few personal details, nothing to show that the Director had any real attachment to it. If Emily Piggot died tomorrow, another Director could move in within an hour without having to remove anything. Taylor had been here before... it was just a week and a half ago, right? She couldn't remember, so much had happened in that time, she had been to Boston and back, been through the rigmarole of medical inspection and surgery, been through that bright moment of hope. 

It had been a day since the surgery.

She barely remembered anything that had happened after the event, it was all a haze, a mess.

A section of the PRT building was still locked off as experts from Quarantine Zone-9 investigated, experts in the field of Oort Spiderology or whatever the correct term would be.

Disaster management? 

"Ordinant, how are you feeling?"

Taylor found herself blinking, observing her own action with a sort of languid half awareness, as if she was somebody else looking out the eyes of Taylor Hebert. 

"Fine."

She was not. But what else was she supposed to say? 'No, I am not fine. My arm and legs are fucked. I hate this. I hate you. Leave me alone, don't talk to me---'

Piggot's lips pressed together. She knew that Taylor was lying.

"The Department is currently performing a review of the method used, to see if there is some alternate way to give you a new arm and legs," the Director said in a simple, straightforward way, as if they were discussing an alternate placing of a chess piece, or an alternative sandwich recipe.

It was too late. Taylor knew it for certain. She didn't even attempt a hopeful smile, that would take some small modicum of effort. 

The crystal was in her shoulder now, what were they going to do? Take a giant chunk out of her upper body? At this rate, she would end up as a human bonsai tree, constantly being pruned of its branches to keep it small. 

"There's nothing that can be done. It wants me, Director," the woman shifted in her seat as she said that, there was an expression that looked wrong on her face, but Taylor could not tell what emotion it was. She was tired, she did not have the energy to work out every micro-expression of the human being in front of her, she just wanted to sleep in a cocoon of blankets.

It wanted her.

It was eating her alive.

They had taken the arm, and after the bone had been sawed and the offending limb placed aside, a new one had rapidly begun growing to replace it whilst the old one fully crystallised.

They had not even been able to take the second off, they had cut into the flesh higher up and the crystal had reacted by rapidly climbing her arm, one of the surgeons had been too slow and been infected as well. Apparently Armsmaster had been first on the scene, and upon the surgeon’s insistence had cut off his hand. 

Now there was a crystallised hand just sitting in the middle of an operating theatre somewhere in the building.

That was what all the screaming her father had heard was. What a tragic irony, a surgeon losing a hand to the very condition she was attempting to heal?

"None of that, young lady. The moment you surrender to a condition is the moment it has won, fighting back is what keeps you strong," Piggot replied, sharply. "Trust me, I have experience."

Taylor didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say.

After a moment, the Director gave a long, slow exhale.

"I am also afraid that I must ask you to continue breaking Grey Boy loops."

Continue? So, they would be sending her out to other cities to break more... and be put at more risk. Strangely, the notion did not bring any horror or concern. Well, they might as well get their use out of her whilst she was still alive, and she was not so consumed by the weighty exhaustion of her depression that she could not recognise that. Might as well do as much good for the world as humanly possible.

"Emma needs to come with me."

"Ordinant, the PRT cannot just have a random civilian teenager accompany you into Gray Boy victim zones, there are all sorts of ethical and legal problems with that."

"If you want me to break more loops, I need Emma to come," she reiterated in the same tone as before. 

"I am afraid that that is likely impossible."

"... I'm dying, Director." It felt strange to say that. She had been dying this entire time of course, but after that moment of hope with Prosthetist, after all the expectations and everything... admitting it was a second brick to the face. It was an acceptance of her mortality, it was impossible to ignore now, no longer a distant, unpleasant, and unsightly thing contained to her legs that came closer and closer by increments. "Use me or literally lose me, but if you want me to break loops... I need Emma."

"... You are being unreasonable, Ordinant."

"... And? What are you going to do, Director?" she asked blandly. 

Genuinely, what would the PRT do if she refused to break more loops? Would they have a Master use their powers on her to force her to do so? That would be far more morally wrong than bringing Emma with her, they could physically force her against the loops... maybe they would sue her for breach of contract, but then if it went to court and the reason why was revealed... "I'm not going to ask for money. Or something unreasonable. I just need my friend there."

With a detached, empty serenity, Taylor stared at the Director who was looking so very sternly at her, like an obstinate boulder in the course of a raging stream.

"You won't be doing anything until you've had some therapy, because you clearly are not in good mental health. After that, we will meet about this again."

Taylor found herself nodding.

Easier to just agree than to resist. 

"---your brute rating has been upgraded to four, but only for your crystals," Miss Militia said gently. "And you've been assigned a Trump rating of eight, although it only applies to Shaker powers. There was some talk about it, and a provisional striker rating of two has been assigned as well."

As if Taylor cared about the numbers that she was being assigned. She could be a Trump that nullified the concept of powers from the surface of planet Earth and it would not change her state of being. 

"Fortunately, it is nothing that will cause us to have to revise any procedures, but you will need to be careful if you are working around Vista in future, you are basically a complete counter to her power," she went on, briefly glancing over the paper again. "You said that your 'bursts' can be directed, but even then, it might be for the best to have you both patrol together with some backup until you can get more used to how your powers interact, or not patrol together at all."

Oh. She rather liked Vista. The only patrol she had ever been on had been made much more pleasant due to the company of the other Ward, because Shadow Stalker sure as hell had not been providing stimulating conversation.

"Thank you, Miss Militia," she said, blandly. "When will I be on duty again?"

"Probably not for a little while to be honest, Ordinant, the people up top are pretty spooked about what happened and there’s a lot of investigations that need to be done."

"But I want to work and be distracted from it all," she said, stubbornly. Please, just say that she would be able to do something, she didn't need much, even if it was just console or filling out forms. Give her some way that she could be useful and contribute. After that heady feeling of success in Boston, of helping to improve lives, she needed something to keep her chin up.

"Ordinant, it's okay, you need to have your therapy first, and when you are in a better place, we can look to increasing your duties---"

"I don't want to!" she was surprised by her own outburst; at the way she brought her crystal fist against the table with a sound like a metal weight hitting a floor. "I don't... I don't want to spend weeks in therapy when I could be helping!"

Miss Militia put the papers she had been reading over to the side.

"Ordinant... you'll burn out very quickly if you work yourself like that," she warned, keeping her voice low and soft despite her outburst. This couldn't be the woman’s first rodeo of dealing with emotional Wards, Taylor did not know what motivated some of the others to join, but she couldn't imagine, based on what the pamphlets said when she first joined, that all of them had had bad times getting their powers.

"... But will I burn out before I'm paralysed?" she asked, not blinking as she stared at her superior, their eyes meeting as silence dominated the room for a few seconds.

Taylor won the staring contest.

There was no reply. They had not given her a time or expected date, be it months or years, but based on her own experience she might only have a year or two. She was due for a scan to see how far the crystal had penetrated but she wanted... she NEEDED to do as much good as she could in that time! It would distract her; it would let her leave something good behind!

Her mind was frazzled, veering between wanting to cry and to throw a chair at the nearest breakable object.

Oh... She was a mess, wasn't she? 

She couldn't keep control of her emotions at all.

She was back at Winslow.

Why was she even here? It was like a strange, surreal world to be back at school, surrounded by people again, people completely unaware of what she had been through in the last few days. Feeling as if she was less walking, more piloting a Taylor-shaped camera, she got her books out of the locker. It had been over a week and a half since she had been to classes, that PRT provided 'work and medical note' certainly had been stretched to the limit. 

She would have so much to catch up on. 

A lot of homework as well. Well, that would be a nice distraction.

"C'mon Tay, we've got physics first," Emma's hand was warm in hers, holding it firmly but without crushing it. 

Not that Emma could break the crystal.

Taylor allowed herself to be led to class, the halls were busy but Emma was walking fast so it just looked like one friend tugging the other along. A few of the local troublemakers would probably sneer, but hey, that's life, right? Life in Brockton Bay that is.

They sat down and set up their things, Emma's desk closer than usual, which was saying something.

"Taylor, why are you wearing a glove in class?" came the inevitable question, one that she had been dreading this entire time.

"I need to wear it for medical reasons, sir," she intoned, dully.

"Do you have a note?"

"It's with the office, sir."

What was it with teachers? Did he really think that she had chosen to wear a glove as a fashion statement, when it would just get in the way of her writing? Was this normal? It was such petty bureaucracy and small mindedness, completely unnecessary. He should just nod, and get on with the lesson, that would be the most efficient course of action. Why waste time with pointless things like this?

Oh, he was. Good.

Unfortunately, others were less keen to drop the subject. 

"Hey Taylor... what's wrong with your hand?"

It was Madison, who Emma was acquaintances with. Taylor had never really interacted with her much, although when Emma dragged her to a party at the girl's house a few weeks ago they had chatted about inane topics to fill the void. She could not even remember the gist of it all, the main thrust of the conversation.

"I don't really want to talk about it..." she excused, self-consciously putting the offending hand into her lap, as if at any moment the glove may fall off and reveal the crystal hand for the horror of all the world to see. Out of sight, out of mind... Apart from the constant ache in her shoulder and legs that was there to remind her. 

"Is it a skin thing? I know a few good creams that can help with stuff like eczema," she offered. She was trying to be nice, and Taylor could appreciate that even if she did not really want to talk about it right now.

"Madison, drop it." Emma interjected sharply, and the other girl's jaw clacked shut. She almost looked a little confused by it, as if she moved back on instinct at the force of the redhead’s insistence. It was somewhat blunt and forceful, very different from the Emma she had gotten used to... well, she had not taken the news about her unsuccessful operation very well at all, and had been practically glued to her hip when she could in the last few days.

But at least Emma was safe, she could walk as well are before and had her hand back.

"Ah, sorry, I shouldn't really ask, I just wondered if I might know something that could help... y'know?" Madison fumbled, looking at Taylor.

"... It's alright, sorry. I just kind of don't want to advertise it much, but it's kind of hard when I need the glove," Taylor tried to apologise, whilst Emma turned back to her books without further comment.

With that, silence reigned, bar the conversation of others in the room, the late arrivals setting up their things, laughing and joking in the background. Everything about the world felt so off to her, as if she was walking through some horrible waking dream in which everyone was normal and happy, and she was the only odd one out. It was all in her head, she knew it, but she just wanted to run away from it all, find somewhere and break down again, as she had half a dozen times in the last few days---

Under the table, a hand found hers. 

Emma did not look her way or give any indication that she was even thinking about her, but she gave her hand a squeeze of support at the moment she needed it most.

She could do this. 

She had to try and keep moving forward no matter what.

Chapter Text

Curled up in her crummy old chair in her room, Taylor scanned the screen of the computer. There was a piece of news on PHO. She had known to expect it, was warned ahead of time that it would be coming out, but she could not help her curiosity about it all. 

She needed a distraction from things, after all. 

♦  Topic:  Gray Boy loops broken?

... Perhaps it was a little much of her.

But... people were talking about her. They had no idea that it was Taylor, or even Ordinant, of course.

The name of the Cape that broke the loops had been 'redacted over concerns for privacy,' which was no doubt because Taylor was a Ward. 

The names of the victims as well.

Taylor privately knew that they were being given new identities, an opportunity to start their life afresh. The names of a lot of Gray Boy victims were known, even if locally. Hard not to be a topic of a conversation as a community when the girl your mother went to school with is now trapped in a permanent, torturous time loop.

In definitely unrelated news, New York would have a new hero or three soon.

Completely unrelated, no doubt.

But all that was irrelevant to what was capturing her attention.

People were talking about her, even if she was just some hero who went unmentioned, people were speculating on her actions and success, the forum was on fire with responses so that every time she nervously hit refresh, there was something new. A small pulse of anxiety made itself known each time she hit that button, as if expecting one of them to, by some miracle, connect the dots, to reveal her to the world.

But no such thing had happened.

A dozen Capes had been suggested so far, some of them she had heard of, others she had not. Some thought that it might be some sort of new Tinkertech, developed by some genius Tinker like Armsmaster or Dragon, that had somehow broken the time loops. Well, of course it would be some big-name Cape who did it, not some newbie.

But no.

It was her who did it. 

If she wanted to, she could type just a few words and claim responsibility. She technically had an official PRT PHO account as Ordinant, although she had never posted anything and probably would not be doing so anytime soon. 

She felt like a hero right now. 

It felt a little wrong, it made her feel a little guilty, this heady rush 

It was the first time she had felt good in days, since Boston, when the heady success of helping had raised her spirits and given her hope for the future. Was it wrong for her to feel like this, to feel proud of herself for doing something that any good person should do? 

She had done a good thing, she was contributing towards improving the world one loop at a time. 

Leaning back in her chair, Taylor hooked a finger under the hem of the glove and pulled it off. 

The crystal glinted.

She hated how pretty it was.

For a little while she stared at it, deep in thought. 

Wondering about everything that had happened to her, flashes of memory from that night, the explosion of the world around her, the creeping crystal overtaking them and crawling up their legs---

She put the glove back on.

Even if that hand saved those people, she still could not bear to look at it...

She continued reading the forum idly.

Alongside the comments giving thanks to the person (they never thought she would read these posts...) there were a lot of very emotional posts on the forums, things that made her struggle to read. 

Relatives of other Gray Boy victims celebrating the news but also so obviously keen to see their own relatives freed, tentative questions about whether the Cape who freed the Boston victims would perhaps be travelling around helping others....

WhereRaindropsGo  : God bless this person, I don't know who they are and thye'll never see this but the good lord gave them a gift that can help all those poor poor people, I hope that they are safe and sound and can help everyone else---

Her eyes moved on.

BodhisattvaOfPeanuts  : So yeah... what's the chance that some people are gonna be taking a reeeeaaal interest in LoopBreaker? 

... She really did not want to think about that. She supposed that on an objective level most would take her deeds as a good thing, most in the forum did, but there were some real nutcases out there... she wanted to think that the PRT would be able to keep her safe but...

They had not kept her safe from that monster...

She hunched a little as a vision of its melting form came to mind.

Taylor shook her head, she could not dwell upon it without feeling a combination of horror, fear, guilt... so many emotions. It had settled down, even if she struggled to think about what she had done, everything had been so swept up in the events following.

Another post, it was a response to a somewhat... crass comment earlier.

NoisyDragon (replying to CrackHeadJoe)  : Listen buddy I am just saying, some folks have been told that a solution to helping loved ones is just a miracle away, I don't know who this cape is but if I have to get on my fucking knees and give them literally everything I have to save my daughter than i'd do it right now. Fuck you you asswipe.

That made her sit back in her seat, looking up at the constellation currently gently floating above her computer as her star projector hummed away in the background.

How many people were in NoisyDragon's situation? Some of the people she saved in Boston, she had gotten to hear their stories. The man going to work, the woman whose child was now only a few years younger than her... and each of them had families. She had not thought about it at the time, how the news would affect them. 

She imagined a middle-aged man looking just a little too much like her father, sitting at the edge of their seat as he furiously typed, feeling that desperate hope that he had not allowed themselves to feel in years, perhaps over a decade, that his little girl would be freed?

Grandparents, mothers, fathers, siblings... all now hearing that loops had been broken and desperately wondering one thing; "will my loved one be freed?"

... Taylor really should stop putting words into other people’s heads like that, and stop picturing such people and their strife. It was like her head wanted her to imagine such situations, she pictured others as well, and reached up to rub at her eyes.

Damn intrusive thoughts...

But she could really emphasise with those feelings she ascribed those people in her imagination, and no doubt in the real world as well.

A bright moment of hope, after so long being told 'a solution is just around the corner' for the longest time... only to never get results. That hope slowly dulling, becoming doubt and then doubt turning into bitterness or the abyss of despair as one finally accepted the reality of a situation.

... How could she not help those people?

Taylor sighed, and moved to another forum. 

All at once, her desire to read the speculation of others was gone.

A message from somebody. She clicked on the notification to see who it was from, feeling her heart sink just a little.

CreateRandom  : Saw you were up... can we talk?

She knew this song and dance, and Taylor stared at the message, reading those simple seven words multiple times. 

It was late, but existential crises and fear did not care about the time of day. Hell... look at her, she should have gone to sleep two hours ago. 

But Taylor did not really need much sleep... and last time, when she had not wanted to trouble Emma, she had vented to Joe. Even if it was weeks before she discovered that she had powers, it was hard not to feel some small debt. Usually, it had been James or Aimee who were the main shoulders to cry on in the group... but James was not on the verge of full crystallisation, maybe Aimee was asleep, or he did not want to trouble her?

LittleOwl  : Of course Joe, feel free to vent.

It was a heavy conversation... They all were, and by the end she felt just as down as she did before, tempered only by that strange joy at having helped another, even if now she felt more emotionally exhausted than before. 

But notions of exhaustion were meaningless to her, she wanted to make use of every moment, and what did she care if she burned out?

Such things were irrelevant.

Sitting on top of the roof of the PRT building at night.

Taylor was not supposed to be here, she was supposed to be asleep, deep near the bottom of the building where the Wards quarters were. She had had her first patrol since getting back, with no less than Missy, Carlos, and Dean... quite a large squad for one patrol through a safe neighbourhood.

With the recent surge in street level fights between the ABB and Empire, everyone was highly strung and the PRT was keeping even the Wards on high alert... and it was expected to get worse before it got better...

Taylor was not usually one for rule breaking, but if she did not seize this opportunity, then she might well regret it for the rest of her life. Even a disappointing experience was one that had been witnessed rather than missed, what was that Shakespeare quote about loving and losing being better than never being in love? 

Something like that.

But how many people could say that they had been up here, on the roof of the Brockton Bay PRT building? The Rig might be a more interesting location to do this at, further away from the city and all its light... which somewhat ruined her stargazing, but beggars could not be choosers.

It was hard to see the stars in Brockton Bay... after all.

...

...

She had a therapy session earlier in the day.

Taylor was not sure what to think about this fact, and as a result after it, she had distracted herself with homework and preparing for the patrol, even having an arm-wrestling contest with Carlos to kill some time. She lost the latter, and noticed how warily he looked at her crystal arm.

But now, with a moment just to herself and the canvas of the heavens above her, her mind wandered to the events of the day.

The therapy was not really what she had imagined it to be. 

She had expected it to be like her previous experience, the time she was forced to attend after offhandedly mentioning finding touching her crystallised legs soothing. It had been offhand, idle, but they made a big thing about it because apparently all other cases developed an instinctual terror and fear of the crystal, so to enjoy it---

Well, she still sometimes thought about the therapist and the way his lips had been set in a grim, dissatisfied line for almost the entire of the meeting, how his questions had seemed more like demands for information during an interrogation. By the end, she had been on the verge of tears... she actually did break down and cry into her pillow later that night, like some sort of pathetic child, only Emma arriving with a fresh pie from auntie Zoe half an hour into her tears managed to cheer her up.

But Yamada was... nice.

Very different, even if most of the hour-long session had been her gently coaxing answers out of Taylor, she had not quite realised just how... resistant she was to discuss everything that had happened in Boston and Brockton Bay afterwards until the woman asked her to do so. 

After telling the story so many times, she had grown sick and tired of it. But then Yamada had interrupted to clarify that she did not want to know the sequence of events, but how she felt about it all.

It had left Taylor stunned for a good few seconds, unable to even formulate an answer.

It should have been easy to do so, really: she felt angry, scared, depressed, guilty, hopeful, reticent, despairing, and unable to control herself, desperate both to push everyone away and reach out and grab onto them desperately. 

She was not proud to admit that she had floundered like a fish on land for a good portion of the session. 

Still... it did not leave her feeling as bad as her previous experience with therapy---

"Hey, Ordinant."

Taylor practically jumped out of her skin as a voice spoke up from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder.

It was Missy, still with her visor on but now in civilian clothes, much like Taylor.

"... Hey."

The other Ward looked around, at the wide-open space that was the roof and its selection of antennae dotted about the edge.

"... Are we allowed up here?"

"Probably not?" Taylor said, shrugging and throwing caution to the wind. 

"Aren’t they worried... you know?" she gestured towards the edge of the roof, as if the answer was somehow there, and Taylor frowned for a moment before realisation dawned upon her.

"What, commit suicide?" Taylor asked, taken aback. 

She had heard that colleges and universities now put nets and locked the doors to roofs during exam time... which to Taylor rather seemed as if it was missing the entire point, but still.

Missy looked terribly awkward at that moment, Taylor could see the way she gave a half shrug, as if she had been trying to avoid the word. 

Did they all worry that she would end her own life?

"I wouldn't," she said bluntly, "my time is limited enough without throwing myself off," she said bluntly. No dancing around it. "Kind of pointless as well, I mean… I can... understand why some people do, though," she admitted, pausing a moment before she did so. She had thought about it before, in her darkest moments. 

Both in the past, and recently.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Stargazing, I did not feel like sleeping."

"... Yeah, I get that..." for a few seconds she hung back, and Taylor made no attempt to move. She was too tired to be bothered getting up, to sheepishly rub at her elbow for being caught like a naughty child with hand in the cookie jar. If Missy told her to go back, then she would, but for now, she would just...

Exist.

After a few seconds, the other Ward took a seat on the concrete beside her, hugging her knees to her chest as well to stave off the chill. For a few seconds, Missy looked up, Taylor could not tell if she was squinting.

For a minute or two they sat there, the tension and awkwardness building. Taylor could just feel it, the prickling on the back of her neck, that feeling of restlessness. 

"I can't really see much..." Missy said, suddenly. Despite it, Taylor felt relieved.

"Look longer."

"Huh?"

"The longer you look, the more you see. Let your eyes adjust and don't try to look around too fast just slowly look from one thing to the next," Taylor instructed

...

A few minutes later, Missy was indeed seeing more of the stars.

"Huh... there's far more than I expected to see here."

"This is your heritage, Missy, it just gets hidden away by light pollution and all that stuff."

"Don't you mean ours?"

"Huh?" she said, intelligently.

"You said it's my heritage, I mean, you're here as well."

"... Yeah." 

Strange, why did it feel so strange to think of it that way? The stars above their heads had overseen all human history, be it Vista's ancestors or hers, all had slept under the same stars.

... Insignificant. 

Whether they were the stars purely for her or for all mankind, it did not matter.

"Do you know any of them? I've seen your room, it's... I am not sure that you are allowed that many sticky backs but ehh... I just kind of presumed that you know a lot about the stars," Vista shrugged, perhaps trying not to be awkward about it. 

Despite herself, Taylor managed a short chuckle, and Missy shifted on the spot, looking back from the heavens to focus on her. Taylor shuffled closer until their shoulders were touching, and then she raised her hand to point upwards. 

"The right one there, that's Polaris, the north star, the entire sky moves around it... have you ever seen those sped up videos of the stars moving? Well, that one remains in the same place, so it is really important in navigation for boats and stuff," she began to explain. 

"Huh... I'd heard of it, but never really thought about it..."

"And you see Orion over there?" Taylor went on, pointing to the famous constellation. "Those three stars under his belt are his sword, and when they are in a straight line downwards, they point due south, so you have north and south visible to you right now! And you see the big star in the middle of the sword? That is an entire nebula, it's super pretty, but not my favourite."

"You really know your stuff..." her companion said, and Taylor found herself smiling, something she had not been doing much of recently.

"I like the stars."

It came out a little stilted, but it was nice to share her knowledge about the heavens. Emma was not keen on the topic, and after her astrophobia developed fully, Taylor had made a point to make no mention of her own interest to avoid causing distress. But now she had somebody who was interested in the topic, she was going to jump on the opportunity.

In the end, time ceased to have meaning as Taylor pointed out stars, told stories of their origins and little random facts.

It felt... nice.

Normal, mundane in a world that craved both but so often was troubled by the opposite.

Chapter Text

It was good to be back in Brockton Bay.

In the background, a movie was playing on the small TV that Emma had in her room. 

Taylor sat with her legs to the side, shoulder brushing occasionally against Emma's. Some old movie was playing, background noise. Taylor had seen it before, it was one of Emma's favourites, so much so that the redhead knew it by heart. 

It had a princess and rats of unusual size.

Beside her, her friend was tapping away on her phone. A message had come from Madison, and she was quickly replying to it.

It had been a busy two days for them, a highly organised one in which they had visited Albany.

In the end, the PRT had yielded somewhat on the matter of Taylor bringing company with her for moral support. Her father and Emma came, but had to remain behind in the accommodation provided whilst Taylor worked. In effect, both got a short weekend trip to the state capital, and whilst Taylor had worried about whether Emma would want to come, the redhead had agreed at once, not even consulting her parents.

This time, the entire thing was much better organised.

Coleson, who had been healed up by Panacea, had overseen it all and was utterly ruthless when it came to organising the security detail. Taylor almost felt sorry, the Albany PRT was much smaller than Boston or Brockton Bay and they had been at once swamped by the arrival of Taylor and her Praetorian Guard of heavily armed troopers and Parahumans. 

Before Boston, Taylor would have called it excessive. 

Now, she was thankful to have each of them who had volunteered or been assigned to the detail. 

Over the course of the weekend, she had freed twelve people from loops, four of whom had triggered without incident bar one, who had a meltdown and had to be talked down. Three of the victims would probably never make a full recovery, and Taylor rather suspected would remain in a vegetative state for the rest of their lives. 

The troopers had, during the trigger events, at once moved in front of her to act as barriers between her and the newly triggered parahumans. It would be undignified to say that Taylor had cowered behind them... but she had most certainly put as much of them between her and the loop victims as she could... but this time there had been no incidents at all.

Most importantly, twelve people were free from hell. 

And now she was back in Brockton Bay, relaxing with Emma late into the Sunday night before school tomorrow.

With a lull in the action of the movie and her friend distracted, Taylor's mind wandered. 

She began thinking over the four Parahumans who had triggered in her presence during the last few days. It had been a strange set of powers, and ones that no doubt the Albany PRT would be keen to make use of if the four of them would join the department (and, with the incentives, Taylor rather suspected some of them would).

One had a rather notable Brute power that allowed him to deal with his wounds, like some localised form of time reversal that purely affected his own injuries. It had likely saved his life, whilst in the loop he had been continuously cut by knives and stabbed with other such implements. 

It was interesting in a way, almost as if it were designed to counter his injuries.

The second had gained a Brute/Mover power, Taylor was not exactly sure how it worked. She just heard a loud bang and then the woman hit the ceiling, fortunately when she did there was a smaller explosion to counteract the momentum. Taylor was rather sure that by any logic, the woman should have been killed but... well powers did not always make sense, and really, a Mover who moved by blowing themselves up and gave themselves some sort of immunity to said explosion up was... novel?

The third power she had no ability to comprehend.

The fourth made the child who triggered able to shrink down to the height of a mouse... Taylor rather wondered if it was born from the young boy’s desire to hide away from the trauma of the loop.

But if, in theory, she was to meet the four of them, and they were to attack her, what would she do?

It was good to think, consider and categorise them. The more she could understand powers, the better she would protect herself in the future. It was a good thought exercise. She only had limited time and no desire to shorten that whatsoever. 

What sort of countermeasures w̦̯̆ͧo̯̤̓̍uld a [T͔͉͚͙͕̲̠̿̅ͬ̏͗ͥͣ̈h͚̺̝̅̑̉͊̏̂ṟ̝̝ͥ̆̎ͨ̈́͆ͣe̹̯̜̰͚̮͈͉̐̈̐̒̋̎̐̄a̭̻͒ͭ͒ṭ̦̘̙̰̌͆̐] have to d̜̙͊epl͍̯̐ͮô̪̈y to s̶t̶o̸p̷ that sort of c̲͗̿̚irc̼̠̺ͤủ̹͂msta͇͍̐n̤̄c̬͈͛͐e̹̬̳͆ͭ̉---

"---or!"

A hand on her shoulder was shaking her.

Taylor blinked. It was Emma, sitting closer than before, their faces only inches away.

"Oh, sorry, I got lost in thought," she apologised. At once, she felt a little out of sorts, like a dreamer who had been pulled out of some happy abyss back into reality.

Emma stared for a moment.

"... I don't like it when you get that look, Tay."

Look? She just zoned out as she thought about powers, but Emma was speaking as if she had been pulling some unnerving or terrifying expression.

So, she just blinked, confused. 

Emma released her shoulder, leaning back, then looked around her room. 

She got up and began busying around, turning over boxes and clearly looking for something. Taylor frowned. 

What was her friend up to? Normally by this stage in the movie she would be fully invested, it was the final showdown in which the redhead would be on the edge of her seat, hand near her mouth where she would be anxiously chewing on a nail, despite knowing exactly how the story would end.

Locating a particular box, Emma opened it up and took out three pieces of metal, rapidly putting them together and turning back to her. The entire time Taylor could only watch, mystified and wondering just what her friend was doing. 

"Taylor! Please, can you play for me?" 

Taylor frowned, looking at the redhead. 

"When did you get a flute, Em's?"

An awkward laugh was her response.

"I just thought it would be nice, I mean, you play, so I thought I would learn as well, seeing how I now have a hand again... y'know?" Emma raised her prosthetic and wiggled the fingers.

Taylor blinked, then looked down at the flute.

Her friend was not wrong, Taylor still played, it was a way for her to feel close to her mother. But at the same time, the instrument in Emma's hand was gleaming, it was so clean and new as if it had never been used before. But her friend looked worried, perhaps playing would ease up on some stress? 

What was stressing her?

Was there something coming up that Taylor did not know about? Was Emma hiding things from her, knowing that she now had her own things going on?

Taylor felt guilty. She had been so drawn into her own misery that she had let her thoughts get utterly distracted from the here and now.

She brought the new flute up to her lips.

It was good quality.

How expensive was it? Were it not for the fact that she knew her mothers’ flute so well, she would say that this one was better. Higher quality, perhaps. Borderline professional. Trust Emma to beg her father to spend a lot of money on an expensive instrument on a whim! 

But it was heart-warming... her friend wanted to learn so that they could play together, what a thoroughly simple, friendly thing to do...

She struggled not to smile at the thought, if she did so, then it would ruin her playing. 

Emma was a good audience as well, she listened and even moved to the music, like a cobra that swayed and took up the full attention of the audience. 

Taylor's full attention. 

Looking closer, Emma was visibly tired, there were bags under her eyes. The ends of her hair looked a little frayed, had she been chewing on it again?

Taylor may have no idea what was worrying her friend, but the least she could do was help her relax. They had only had a little time together in Albany, Taylor had worked in the day and returned in the early evening so that they could eat a meal as a trio, her father keen to make sure she was okay whilst Emma distracted her with chatter about the things she had seen and done in the day, which largely seemed to consist of shopping. 

Was it unfair of Taylor to drag her friend across a state just to give her some support, only to then barely be able to spend any time with her? Probably, but her friend had still been there without reservation for her.

Taylor finished on the flute with a trill and gave a little curtsey when Emma clapped.

She had planned to give her dad a call to pick her up when the movie was over... but she would find a reason to stay over and make sure that her friend slept well tonight and really spend some time together. 

In the early morning, the first, distant explosion went off.

Bombs.

The new leader of the ABB used bombs.

It was a horrific piece of news, and one that put the city at large at risk. 

Taylor had the brief after the other Wards, who had been given the grim run-down over the weekend as the terror bombing began. 

The city was filled with fear now, civilians were looking over their shoulders, questions were being levelled at the PRT and the police, and Taylor had to wonder just what the average person thought that they could do. Questions about 'well, why can't a sniper just put a bullet through their head?' or 'why hasn't Legend been brought in?' were dominating PHO without really understanding just how hard it was to actually find a sufficiently determined individual in a city of hundreds of thousands.

But there was another issue. 

Not all the bombs were bombs. 

Some of them had other effects that were not conventional explosions, and plenty of them were horrific and gruesome, effects that influenced the surroundings and even organic matter. It seemed that the mad Tinker had been busy, and that as time went on their creativity was only being matched with their penchant for destruction and disregard for human life.

The result?

Ordinant was needed to help counteract some of the Shaker effects left over from the bombs, and the campaign was only ramping up as well.

"... You alright, Ordinant?" Armsmaster asked, beside her. His delivery was gruff, he did not sound as if he had been sleeping much with the recent trouble. 

"Yeah..."

No, she was worried. Even if the area had been declared as safe and isolated, she could not help but look from the corner of her eyes as the elder cape scanned their surroundings often. It was just the two of them and a few troopers who were standing around the exterior of the latest Shaker-bomb affected site. 

This was a wide-ranging hologram that made the place look normal... but covered up the fact that there was a giant hole in the road.

So, a person could easily drive or walk right into a giant hole in the ground. Nowhere near as bad as some of the other effects, but if the department had an anti-Shaker, they might as well make use of her, right?

"If you would, Ordinant."

She used her power, barely focusing on the space. 

The hologram at once flickered out of existence, revealing the hole and debris.

This was the fifth such Shaker zone that she had cancelled in the last few days, her power was suddenly useful not just in breaking loops but also in protecting her home city. People were taking photos of her and whichever Cape accompanied her to the sites of the bomb’s effects. 

There were plenty of unpleasant villains in the world, literal monsters in human form... but what this bomb Tinker was doing was nothing more than domestic terrorism, punching down and injuring innocent people for no good reason, what was it all in favour of? Releasing Lung? Surely this Bakuda person was not so insane as to think that blowing people up was the logical way to do this? 

It just seemed too illogical to her. 

But humans were not logical.

Beside her, Armsmaster grunted as the effect was cancelled, walking over and briskly tapping the bottom of his halberd against the edge as if to confirm that it was there, and not some second level of illusion. 

"How long until we catch her, do you think?" she asked.

It sounded so naive, but she was the least experienced of the Wards, perhaps the PRT had some sort of super secret tracking system, and they were just waiting for the right moment to strike. But with how the Hero and Villain situation had been in Brockton Bay for the last few years... Taylor could not help but wonder whether they even would. 

The city had always struggled with its gangs, even with the assistance of other elements like New Wave.

"Can't say, as soon as the opportunity arrives," was the response from the other cape, and she saw the way his jaw slightly tensed, not quite gritting his teeth but not far off either.

She did not press further. 

Everyone was on edge at the moment, and she did not want to poke that bear.

"If you get back in the van, I'll accompany it back to HQ."

At times, Taylor wondered whether such an obvious bastion of the PRT was really the safest place that she could be. But she simply nodded, respecting her superior’s judgement. She had been picked up by a nondescript car earlier from school, brought to the PRT building to change, and then deployed to deal with this problem.

Still... She would rather have gone on the back of his bike; how many people could say that they had done so?  

Sitting in the back of the van with troopers, she decided that next time she would ask him.

ǹ̜̪̗̤̺̪̳͐ͥ͌̆ͤg̞̰ͣ̿͆̓̾̾̔a̮̙̖͎̱̥̞̋ͤͫͤ͊̏g̥͙̣̾͊́i̝̥̼̳̦͛ͬ̇ͦ̌ͤ̚ṇ̩̤̫̖͔͈̄ͪ̇ͦg̟̫̪̦̜̼̈́ͭ̊ͮ̉ͣ͐ ̱̭͖ͣ́̍̂̉̚P͚͇͌̅͊ͥ̂͒ă͍̖̞̤̺ͧ̀ͮͣr̘̝͎͙̬̆̐ȧ̙̝̠͔̗̲ͤ̿͗d̬͎͐ͥͦͫͥi̱̣͓̮͍̼̤̔̉̈gͦͣͮͅm̝̪̝̼̱͔̖̃͆͂̉ ͎̱̖̤̃̈͑͛ͦͤI̟͚̞͎ͯͩ͌͑n̩̹͖ͥ̽f͉̟ͨ̿̌ͮ̾ͣl̘̱̠̺͉̟̰ͪ̆͐̾ͥ͊̚a̩̲̯̯̘͒ͩͪ͛̑̑ͅt̫̞ͦi̲͙͕̳͙̮̬ͣ̑ͬ͑o̺͚̰̣ͦͤͦ̒ͨn͇̰̈́ͣ̉ͧ̌̊.̦ͩ͆ͤ̾ͮ͂̚ ̼̘̻̀̄̄ͪÅ͚̋͛ń̰ͧ͐a̜̟ͨ͑ͬl̯͎͔͕̭̮̱͛ͬȳ̭͍̍̓ͮ̃ͧ͑š͙͚̒ͫ͑̇̃i̩̮̳̞̺͖ͩ͗̅s̞̖̻̮͙̗͔͐̓̈:͉͖̰̂̓̑̂ͭ̅ ̩͉̖̉̍ͤ͆̍͂́T̝̼̥̿ͣͪ̍ͧͨ̚ĕ͈͔̪͓̒͊̒ͪ̓m̠̹͙̳̘͍͓ͬͧṗ̬͉̍̋̏̐ọ͕͉̲̦̜̌̓̆̔ͮ̌r̹̐͛ͮ̀͗͆ͨă̻͎l̮͔̘̺̮̦̟͂͒ͤ ̖͍̖̔ͭ̿ͫ̒r̯̱̒e̘̟̭̘͖͉͑̒͐̆v̗͙̞͍̦̬͉̎͗ĕ̩̻̠ͅr̝͔͉̍̂̎̽̑s͍̪̠̝̘̏ͣ̓́i͉̦͉̜͚̎̈ͥͥȏ̯͐͋ͪͬ̋͂n͖̈́̅̃ ̻͊ͧ̿͑ê̼̝̰͈̜̖͉̿̌͒ͭ͒̆f̱̻̜̜̬̾͛ḟ͖̂ͅĕ̞̀̊̔̚c͚̪̎͑ͥ͆̎͗̋t̯̱̱ͦ̉ͩ͒ ͎͔̦͈̘̎͆͂l̥̤̤͇͈̋͗ͯ͑i͓̲͖̟ͧ̆ͧ̀m̬ͧ̿ͮ̌i̖̥̠ͦ̍̋̅̐t͔̭̹͌ͩ̍ͤͬȇ̺͎̌ḓ̫̻̿ ̥ͮt͙͉͎͌̒̀̇̋̚o͈̜͓ͬ̏͆͒͆̇ ̙̦͕̺́̔̓ẉ̅o̗̻̰̭̜͋̏ͥͮ̅u̘͈̬ͧͥ͂̍n̟̖͙͓̠̪̅͆̌͌̄̚ͅd̹͓͆̍̓ͣs̼̽̊̈́͆ͬ̄̈ ̫̥̬̭͓̳ͮ̃ͫi̜̜̔ṇ͆͊̾̉̓̑f̱̩̣͒̔̍l̗̭̙̟̪̾͋̈ͩ̋ī̝̹͔̌c̠̩̮͕͓̐̂ͪ͂͑t̹ͮ̌̅e͖̺̱̗̹͍͕ͦͬd̝̫̦͔͈͐̃̽̄͐ͧ ̗͚̯̎ͩͩ́́̅̊ͅo̖ͪ̎͆ͨn̖̪̪͉̺͚͍͌̿̐̈́̃̿͌ ̳̥̱̆͊̑̓b̗̯̐͋͐̀͊ó̯̺̻̰͙̙̼d̰̤͔̥̞̫ͭ̂ͫ͛̀y͇̗͎̝̮͖̞ͧ̓ͨ

(Engaging Paradigm Inflation. Analysis: Temporal reversion effect limited to wounds inflicted on body)

̳͓͇͙͚͓̤̾͊̓̑͆̂E̞͋n̗̄ͯ̚g͉̉̔a͕̼̝̋g̱̩͚̩̱͕̞̊̎ͤi̺͕̱ͮ͒ͭͪ̆n̲̭̳̩̙͖͛͊̑̄ͬg̙̺̠̺̓̈͒̃͛̀ ̝ͩ̃͊̂͑̐P̖͈̞͉͎̼̼̌̍ͫ͛̌̀́a̲͖̪̞͖̦̐r̯̠͊̉ͦͩ͆̃̏a̤͚̠ͬ̈́d̬̭̙̄̌̃i̮̱̿͐g͕̮͔͒ͦ̒͌ͫm̲͔̌̈ ̠̦̫͍͔͍͊̒̒Ǐ̹̺̳̹̥̣n̺̻͛́̉͋̾̓̔f̙͚̲̰̭̦͔͛̀͌̅l̫̀̌ạ̟̝̯̺͍͉̐ͪͨṯ̠͕̼͈̏í̖͚̳͊͋͂o͉̦͂n̮̫̭͒͂.̺͓̎̄̀ ̙̗̰̋̃ͅͅA̬̹ͭ̿n̩̖͚̲̞̤̹̒̃̄̃ͮå̼̟̣̣͍̆͐l̤͐ͪ̿̏̊y̲̰̺͉̪͖̱̔̏̍s͓̼̻͕̹͂̀ͪ̐̾i̹̤͆ͬ͌͗̾ͅs͚̟̝̺͉͐:̺̽̈͊ͮͮ̚ ̘͕͍͙͂ͮ̌ͣḬ͍̯͕̺̍ͧ̈́ͥn͚̲͎̪̤̺̈̉̄ṯ̖̏̏ͣ̾ͩ͂r͍̝͍͕̥̜̫̔ͯͨ̇͊ͬo̦͎̤ͧ͗̒̏͛͑ͅd̠̓ṵ̘ͭ̈̒͒͌̋̋c͉̝̖̫͉͓ͯ͑ț̗̳̯̥̎i̭̺̞ͭ̈́͋͛̈ͤͅo̩̣͕̗̭ͪ͋ͩͤ̈ͅn̻̞͓͉͎̳̥̍ ̰͎̾ͩ̈̾̐ȏ̦̤͔͔̊ͣ͂f̱̻̫̈́̎ ̠̥̲̺͉̗̠̍͊ͥ͆̎̀n̻̿̌ͨ́̓̇o͓ͣ͒͐͂̊v̻͊̌e̼͎̰̮͈̓̅̄̇͊l̰̠̲͓̯͂̎̏ͫ ̻̝͓̹͚ͧm̝̣͔̞̬̎o͓̦̱̮͑ͤ͐v̹̙̗̮ͤ̿ͣ̈́͋ͬͅe̹̞͖ͭ̐̋m̦̫̂e̱͍̜͕̓͂̿̀́̈ͦn̤͉̍͊͂͂̊ť͖̏̚ ̗̫̩͓́̀p̱̩ͬ̇̏̐̊̏̏ė̲̚r̠̤̭͔̖͊̈ͮ̎f̤̟̪̘̫̉̏̈̂ͩͅo̝̥͖̱̥̼͊ͤͯr̠͉̼ͮ̋̆̀m̟͙̖͉ͨ̈́̈́̄͛ͬ̑e̗̜̗̤͆̈ͨ̎̽d̠̤͊̅ ̼̞̙̥̭ͪ̇̐ṱ̝̘̰͇͇̦ͭ͗̊ͫ͐̿͑h̳̜̣̰̻̳̠͐̈ͫṛ͈̭̜̤̼͖ͫ͑̎̏ó̻͉̤̒̍̿ͫ̋u̪̅g̮͖̗̮̹ͤ̆ḥ̻̗̳̯̖͆͌ͤͧ̓̂ ̳̤͎̜ͪ̍̍ͣ͆l̦͙̣͎͉̘͗̏o̭͕̹̮͌ͭ̔c̙̲͍̊͗̋̓ä̮̰̙̼̘͛̓̍̋̔̚ḽ͕̗̘̥̋ỉ̲̝͍͔͓̓̈́̂̔̎s̯̤͔ͯ͋̈ͤȅ̗͚̻̫͚͒ͦ̉ͮ̾͂ͅd̼̭̂̾̇ͧ͋ ̪͇̣̳̙͐ͦ͌͑͂ë͈͚̤̓x͕̜̽͌̎̈̊p̪̪̤̻̣̰̱̉̽͆̒l̬̙̭͚̙̗͂̚o͎̰̅̎ͫ̑š̺̆͆̃ͪͤ̑ḭ̘̗̤̀ͣ́̏̅̆̚o̖̭̭̓̏̅ͪͣͤ̀n̞͈̪̎ͬ̂ͩͣ͂̑s͚̦̩̖̻̖̅͆̽͆

L̩̯̠̪͎͚̱ͬͯ͑ͣͯ͋ị͍̃m̳̱̙ͬî̫͈͓̫͙͋̃ͣṯ̜͓̽̎̿͊ͪ͑̚e̠ͫ̌͋ͮd͚͒̉̃ͣͩͤͅ ͚̽d̙͍̝́ͭͤu̹͔̅̄ͧ̒̂r͓̪̲̥̈́ͭ̌̒ͦͮ͒a̮̣̜̼͎͛̑c̝̪͕̔́͑̎̈́͋̚t͓̮̜̰͔̅̅͋ͅi̝͙͗ͦ̊̔͂̇̾o̼͈̜͆ͭ͌n̻͇̖̫̖̭͚ͣ͒ͮͩ͂͒͊ ̬̭̥̯͎̠̞̋̆̑̿̏ͭ͆ȋ̭̞̰̦͕n̜͕͐̒̓ͩ̌ͮv̘̙̥̫̞͆̉͗̈́̊ͅů̺̠̙̯̰̱̊̚ḻ͂͂ͧ͐n̮̣͛̆̆e̟̰̘̖̱̤ͣr͉̦̙̰͉̣ͧa͎͖͉͚ͮ͗̓̋̒̽̚b͇̼̥̃î̩̭̥̯̪̘̇ͥ̏̉̍͗l̙̫̠͐͋̎ͤ̑i͔̻͂̿t̥̠͎̠̻͙̲ͬ̋y̠̥̪̋ͨ̃ͭͯͨ ̘͕̭̥ͪt͖̻͑̀o̬͚͖̯̰̪̿ͥ̊ͭw̮̺͇̺ͫͫͦ̒̉͑ͧa̟̹͛̇̐̆̎ͧ̄r̯̫̉͂d̙̪͈̤ͤͭ̊͊̔̽s͓̩̓ ̺͕̮̯̜̬͔̉ͤ͑ͣ͊͌s͍̠̲̬͇̈ͮ̃ĕ̱̃ͣ̑ͯͬ̏l̹̠̽ͥ͐̌ͤf͓͍̝̣͆͒͑̈́̀-̝̫ͦ͐̑̒ͭ͊g͇͉͖̣͓͙̒̚e̦̭̫̚n̬̫̺̗̙͛ͯe͙͇̭̩̥͐̊͗ŕ̪̖͕̖̮ͥͅa͍̪̺̤̼̍t̗ͩȇ̘̗̖̬͙̞ͯ̌̓̈ͯd͙̲͉̦̙̯̑͂͆ͥͤ̃ ̦̺̤̪̲̟̽͆͒̍̄̅e͈̥͗ͣͦ͛͋͂x͎͊ͦ̃̽́p̺̫͈ͬ̃́l̞̗̖̜͗o̬͈̦̼͎̅͑̔̇͗̆s̮̹̤͍̻͑i͈̟͈̖ͪͪ̈́͑̀̈́o̺̓ͨ̿́̄n̜͍͎͙̣̥̽̑ͥ͗ͥs̰̖̥͇̞̳͑̏͛̈́.̙̜̦̠̉ͭ́̀͂̽

(Engaging Paradigm Inflation. Analysis: Introduction of novel movement performed through localised explosions)

(Limited duraction invulnerability towards self-generated explosions)

E͙̜ͣ͊ͅn͈ͪͅg̖̫̺̤̻̽̽̏ͤ̀ͧͭǎ̰͚̻̮̝̥́ͤǵ̜̼̓͑i̻̒̆̑̍ͪ̒ň̩̗̪̻̗̐ͤͬͅg̟̜͍ͫͦͬͣ͑̇ͥ ̼̖̂P͚̉ͮ͂̑́̆̍å̦̫̻̱̽r͈͍̈́ͯ͌̓ͬͤ̚a̯̩͚̪̺ͯ͑͗ͭ̍̾̑ḏ̠ͨͫi̞̼̜̦͔ͤ̃̍̓͗̏g̝ͧͪͨ͆̚̚ͅm̮̅ͥ̏͌ ̰̻̝̫̫͉͌ͤ̉͛I̘͔̠̝̺̿n̙̆̈́̅f͓̤̩̗̔l͚̟͖͈̦͇̺ͧ͊̈ͬã͇̳͉̜͚̑ͣ̋̄̀t͇͖͙̙̆ͮͤ̿̚i̹̹̺̟̟̤ͣͣ̉̑́̈́̚o̖͓͙͓͑̉̅̎̆̈́ͦn͓̫͔̙̮͗́ͪ͐.̯́ͨ̈̋̋ ̫͖̣̠̝̩͗A̙ͫn̖̱̠̼̣̼̐͋͑̏̉́ͯa̟̥̳͎̲ͯ̔ľ̟̦͕̩̙̰̗ͧỵ̜͕̠͚͔ͦͅš̺̬̮̰͉ͨͅͅi͙͖̦̣̻̥͈ͣ̒̔͗s̗̰͍̳̥̬̚:̖̙̲ͤ̆ͫ͒ͨͅ ̮̥̭ͫT͎̟̣̯̝̟̆ͧe͙ͣ̆̾͋̏m̞͇̪͙̬͑p̞̩̱ͦ̀͌̅́̎͒o̹͓̪ͬ̔ͬͨr̘̲̹̱̦͎̙ͪa̘̝͍̰͎̞̓͌r̫̱̱̺ͭ̅̋̑̅y͔̩͕̘͔̑ͯͫ̈́ͩ̑̏ ̮̮͍̣̼̗͙̍̈͐͊ṙ̟̹̲̠̙̹̾ͣ̒e̥̼͍̽͆͗͌̀d͙̣͐̅̀͗͂̚ů̹̥͉̭̤͔͂̓ͨͬͅc̪͚͇̹͈͋̍͑̄͑͛ṭ̩̥̤̙͒́î̦̱͎o͎͓͉͈͍͛ͪ̋̔͑̔n͍͉̔ ̮̜̘̭̀͌̈́ͣ̒̂̚i̖͉̬͔̬̥̮͗́̌ͧ̍̎n̜̟̹̞ͭ͗̅ ̩͓̖̥̾̽͌̎ͣ͒ͭs͎ͣ̓i̳̠̘͇̫̩͙̊̅ͧͮ̄z̞̖͍̱̲̲͒̿̂ͦͫ̐ͅȅ̮̩̄ͧ̒̚ ̳͔̰ͫ͛͆̂ͧ̃w͙̤͌̾̉h̠̼̻͙̃ͭị̤̭̜̼͎̾̈ͧ̏͋l̪̱͚̭͚̹͇̈̋̑ͭ͊͑̚s̮͊ͭͩͦ̌ͮt̥̱͓̋͊͆́̒̚ ̹̠̮͙̦̐̐ͅḿ̗̜̣͙͆a̯͇̙̬̯̾̓̽̒ͫ̉̚i̩̎ͣ͂̔̄̑n͎̟̹͈̼͔͋t͖̞̼̮̩͔̄͂̄ͬͪͤͦa͙͂͌ͫi͍͊ͩ̎͒͒n̘̼̅̏ͪ̋ͯi͕͍̭̗̫̍ͯ̇n͔̔͂̓̈̈́̚g̜͉͔̚ ͙̟̙̔ͦ́ͤ̌s̬̠̖̩̽͆̓ͧͯ̚á̫͍͈ͭ̓ͭ͊m̩̰̺͕͇̘ͣ͒̆͑ͧͤẽ̞̗̟̮̈̆̉ ̱͇̠̱̅̂̽̅͆̚p̝̞̈́̓́́̒̓r͎̮̞̂ͅò͍͚̥̱̜̓͑̈̔p̻ͯ̃ọ̜͓̹ͬ͊ṟ͓͕͓͂̀ͫ͐ͅͅț̜̳͇͇͓̀ͨͣͅi̪̲̹͓͓ͧ̌̄̋̿o͓̼̗̬̙͔̪̾ͪͮ̒̂̚n̮͊s͖͓̱̓̔͆̎ͬ̎

Ā̱̦͈͖̙͎̂ͫ̆ͅŝ̙̰̮̲̠̄ͧ̈́̉s̖͎͋ͭu͉͇ͣ͌̇ͪͦ̌̄m̹͖̿ͭ̆̿̈́ẻ͉͈͖̥̚d̝̤̱̜̣̬͗̂̾ͣ̓̀ͅ ̖̤̳̳̐ͪ̾ͬ̂́̎ė͎̽̓ͥ͐x̤̄̾̓t͉̯̾̾͊r̠̰̀̆̀ͥͦ́͑ä͇̣͖̭̬̗̌̌ͣd̹̣̗͇̓͌ȉ̭̗̖̞͖̜̓͗̔̔m͎͈̖̫̻͇̉͑͛̿̎̾̀ͅẽ͎̺̣̗̬͛̑n͇̪̮͇̯̾s̲̮̦̮͇͙͉͂i̱͕̥̳͕ͩ̏ō̼̟̟̣̭̤̝̽̓ͬ̂̔n͈̟̊ͩͭͣͣ̎̎a̫͓̭͕͗ͤ̀͂ͣl̻̲̘͗͋̇͌ͦ̐ ̟̞̭̭͓̖̈͒ͨ̾s͕̦̩̖̞͇̭̍͊t̖̫̀ͦ̋͛ͪ̐o͉͇ͨ̿ͬ͆̔r̠͔͖̗̳ͤ̌a̮̭͖̟͙̪̍̌̈̃͛̏g̞ͬͭͯͦ̈́̐̏e͔̬̦̤͈̔ͅ ̯̼̦̩̹̭̗̋͆̐̄̐̚c̪̖͕͎͒ͫ̍̔ͅā̺̭̘͈̝̤̃̎ͭ̈̀̚p̠̺ͣ̉̉ͧͤ̒a̮͚̙̺͗̑̀c̼ͬͭi͎̒͂͑̍̅̚t̯̯̮̍̀y̩͍̲̞̩͆̈́ͅ ̣̑̓̉̓̎t̫̝̜̬͎̯́ͅo͍̝̱ͧͥ̌ ̺̼ͥ̔̒͑ͬͩa̭͐ͧ͆́ͬ͛v̻̯̻̝̺͕͕͒̂͒͋̋̚o͖̺̞̲̟̜̪̿̿͑̈̍i̜̭̠͆d̠̣́ͯͬ̓̊ ̱͚̖̳̣̭̑̆̅̿̈̚h̞̞͔͑̒͗ŷ̖͍͍͔̩̱p͉ͫ̔̃̆ͧe͍͚̟͐̓̌̈ͯͤr̩͖̝̜̳̰͒͐͛́̎͗͌-̼̪̼̥ͦͭ͗͋ͥ̀ͭd̻͒̌̿e̱̻̪̯̟̦͈ͯ͒͛̒́̑ǹ̳̰̝̪ͩ͋ͬͦ̉ͅs̱̞̤̯ͥ̔̽͑ͦí̻͖͆̂ͩͮ̓ͬt̻͍̃ͦͧ̎y̫̰͇̬̙̹ͯͫ͌ ̦̯̞ͫͥ̇ͯm͉̱̘̲͈̳̾ͩͦ͊̆̓á̭̹̗̮t̠̜͇̯̪̦͗̇̋̽̌̋̎e͓̼͈̰̝̓ͨr̤͕̺͚̰̠͉ͬỉ͙̭̼̻͍͇̺̍a̳̟̬̪̥͊͛̚ḽ̳̭ͤͯ̓̒̀͛̋ͅs͚̘̠͙͂ ̪̳͉̤̻̋̏̌̔́̈́ͮͅc̺̗͎͔̰̒̎͋ͯō̝͙̰͇̦̜͌͒͆͌̒͐m̹̖̗ͨ̾p͖̻̖̯̪̜̟̈́̅ͮ̊r͎̠̱̻̖̲ͬ̅̑͆͒o̭͉̤ͤ̽m̦̖͇̪̏ͩi̖̭̲̤̖̣͒̃̃s͕̹̯ͦ̀̒̌̂ͥ̎i̫̩̭̜̬̮̔n͇͌ͬ̓g̫̠̗̯̘̽ͥ̈́̇ͬ͗̚ͅ ̹̄̆̓̒̇h͔̘͊̄o͇͕̞̳̣̬̱̿̓̂s̫̖̹͉̋ͅt̺̞͉͖͎ͬͥ͗̉͐ͧ ̪̾͋ͨ̄b͓̺͖͇̘̯ͯ̂͐̍ǐ̝̹̻̮̥o̝͇̣̖̮̭͖ͪḻ̙̬̹͉͈̤̀ͧ̈́̏ŏ̜͕͚͒̂͊̆y̻̮̺͖̬͇͍̐̿ͦ̏

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The ambush had gone perfectly.

The PRT sweep of the apartment hadn't found the safe rooms cunningly hidden away, and she had made sure to use enough of her after-effect bombs that that bitch who kept ruining her work would have to be brought out.

Honestly, it would be perfect, cause a big ruckus whilst Oni Lee got Lung out of the PRT's oh so tender care, forcing them to split their efforts and attention between their oh-so-precious Wards and stopping the jailbreak. Honestly, it was simple but genius!

And yet, somehow, even as her grenade flew through the air the Ordinant bitch somehow sensed it, Bakuda watched as she grabbed Vista and pushed her behind her, as the explosion from her flesh-melter was stopped just metres away from her and the other Wards.

Fucker!

An anti-shaker power was such bullshit, it was literally everything that was designed to stop her best work from working!

But just because the opening salvo did not work did not mean that something else wouldn't, it might just be a specific form of anti-shaker power, after all. She couldn’t be immune to every effect!

So she fired more, her magazine could hold six grenades and she had prepared five different effects to see what might work. It was a shame to throw so much at one person but necessary.

And yet, none of them worked. It was honestly infuriating.

But still, the last grenade in the magazine was special... in that it was not special at all. A perfectly normal, military-grade grenade with no tampering or funny business, and unlike the others the bitch's power had no effect on it. She jumped in front of it though, like a proper goody-goody two shoes, taking the blast and falling to the ground as her legs got fucked up, got broken and shattered and Bakuda resisted the urge to whoop at finally bringing the bitch down a peg.

Still, after reloading she kept up the bombardment, but it seemed that the bitch was not dead or unconscious because in the next magazine all the special grenades were still cancelled, preventing the other Wards and troopers from getting what they deserved. One of them, the big red one, even managed to pull one guy that got affected by the flesh-melter to safety!

And then---

They got away, leaving the anti-shaker.

Well, fuck.

She had hoped to get all of them, to really make a demonstration of her power, to send a message not to fuck with the ABB and her in particular. Well, taking out that anti-shaker was her priority anyway, she was much too much of a threat to her entire modus operandi, there would be consequences of course for killing a Ward but frankly once the ABB had Lung back, she would be a lot safer.

Anyway...

Oh.

The fucking nerve! The Ward was getting up, making some sort of big heroic last stand, pushing herself off the ground when she might as well just stay down and die there. There was a loud series of clinking noises, the Capes helmet was broken, as was the armour on the legs, revealing crystal beneath.

Were they a Case-53? Bakuda narrowed her eyes as the cracked and shattered legs repaired themselves as the Hero stood up shakily.

She almost admired the tenacity, were it not for the fact that the fucking cocksucker had been ruining all her efforts recently. She took aim again, but held back from firing yet.

The cape was a regenerator of some sort, and a damn annoying one at that, and she was still standing despite taking on an explosive.

She fired another grenade, aiming higher.

Bakuda watched in morbid fascination as the girl remained standing, face reeling from the detonation, which she had taken head on like a fucking idiot. Honestly, what sort of person tried to take on a fucking explosion? The girl was a moron.

What remained of the girl's head burst with blue light as she began to fall---

A leg stuck out, stopping, pushing against the tarmac as she slowly straightened back up.

Bakuda blinked as reaching blue tendrils that terminated in hand like fronds extended from the remains of the girl's head like the questing feelers of some deep-sea invertebrate. They swayed and extended, grasping and moving ethereally over one another. In the darkness of the former parking lot, strewn with debris, the light from the tendrils cast an eerie blue glow over everything as the Cape turned its head slowly to focus on her, and Bakuda saw her face for the first time.

Her heart stopped in her chest.

She knew that face.

She knew that face.

Half of the girl's face was blown off, but it was healing, the gooey brain matter faintly glowed with bioluminescence as the skull repaired and reformed, bone replaced with metallic, opalescent crystal, which flattened out to form a half-face lacking in features, blank and faintly curved with spikes at the top, like a mask.

"JESUS WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!"

She could not restrain the chain of expletives that escaped her tongue, could not help the automatic step backwards, she loathed loathed loathed the feeling of weakness and surprise that came over her.

Everyone who knew anything knew that face, even if it was just half of it, even if most images were distorted by the radiation and alien conditions, everyone knew the featureless metallic face of the Oort-Spider.

That monstrous half-face only lasted a few seconds, features were growing in, a nose, the other half of the mouth, an eye. The tendrils were receding, changing into hair, and just a few moments later the girl was stood in front of her again, no different from before.

No, not a girl.

A thing, a thing wearing the skin of a human being.

Its eyes both rolled to focus on her, and with its mask blown to smithereens, Bakuda could see fully the absolute inhumanity to the thing in front of her, the utterly dead eyes that focused on her unfettered from notions of humanity.

The thing took a step forward.

It didn't blink, its movements were fundamentally wrong, it was too fluid, too efficient. It was like every step was perfectly calculated to perfectly reduce effort, yet without thought, inevitable and heavy, its crystalline feet met the tarmac and forced themselves into the soft material. Did it even breathe? Did it even think?

She turned and ran, ran back into the apartment building.

Shit.

Shit shit shit!

What the fuck was that thing!? The PRT had a fucking Endbringer on side? Wait, what if they did not know? What if it had deceived them, deceived the world, or was it something else? An offspring? Some sort of creation using its DNA by some mad Wet Tinker? Her fevered brain was filled with ideas as she desperately tried to rationalise what she had seen; her power was throwing concepts at her.

Clink clink clink clink---

She could hear its footsteps against the concrete, each like the chime of a horrible bell that filled the air with noise, as if to remind Bakuda what she was running from.

Bakuda wheeled around.

She had made some distance; the thing was at the other end of the corridor. It did not run her down, it walked, walked like an advancing wall of doom down the corridor, unblinking, eyes focused on her.

Levelling the launcher, she unloaded on it, everything she had, reloading faster than she ever had before, not taking into consideration what she was firing and how all the effects may interact.

Regular explosives, pain bombs, flesh-melter's, a few of the more exotic items---

The thing did not even stop walking.

It was still staring at her when its left side cracked and shattered, when its every pain receptor was activated, it just took another step, face warping before settling on that same determination.

The more exotic bombs, her experimental ones that would stop time, made it pause for a second, just enough to make her think the effect had worked, before it continued on, casually breaking the laws of physics. It walked past the insects trapped suspended in flight, past the dust motes that were the same way. And then, time resumed, the dust and debris fell to the ground.

Another grenade, this one would convert organic matter into crystal---

The corridor was turned at once into glossy quartz, including the thing.

A breath of relief escaped Bakuda, only for the joy to turn into the beginnings of panic and despair as the thing jerked into movement once more, the quartz receded back to flesh, or the facsimile of it at least.

It didn't even stop in the step it had been taking, like some unstoppable juggernaut that hated her.

No, it did not even hate her.

She had seen the looks of hate, and fear before, abundantly so. Both from normal humans who were revelling in her destructive power, and in Capes determined to stop her.

Whatever this thing was, it didn't care about her, it didn’t care about anything that fell within the order of humanity. There was nothing behind those eyes except intent, purpose. It wanted nothing more than to destroy her, to catch up with her, hunt her down and rip her limb from limb, to do to her what the Spider had done to almost fifty Capes in the span of less than a minute.

She was panicking now, and she hated it, that feeling, that feeling of helplessness, of not being in control. It was just like back in Boston when she first gained her powers. She had been in charge, she still was in charge, this thing was just overly stubborn, it did not have all of the Spiders powers or else she would already be dead, right? It had to have some weakness, there had to be something she could do!

She turned and ran.

Time, she needed time!

Fuck, the plan was to set up the ambush, deal with the bitch and really push the PRT's face into the dirt, make a really big distraction so that Lung could be freed but the situation had gone south fast.

How was she to know that the PRT had a fucking pet Endbringer!

A group of her goons were gathering, they had heard her shouts and the explosions, she had had them posted throughout the building to keep watch in case PRT goons tried to come in from other directions. They each had a bomb in their head, the explosion may not hold it in place for long but she needed time, as much as she could get. Maybe she could get it to lose the trail as well?

"Stop it, buy me some time!" she shouted, wildly gesturing behind her.

The goons all tensed up but nodded reluctantly, they didn't have a fucking choice right now or else she'd blow their goddamn brains out!

She ran on, but her ears heard the sounds, the screams, the shouts and the clang of wood and metal against crystal and flesh.

At the end of the corridor, hidden, was a door downwards that led to the basement. It used to be for making drugs, but she had converted it to her own needs to match the escalating gang war.

She opened it, stepped through partially but paused to listen to the sounds of the fighting. It was six people against one, right? Surely, they could like, break the things bones, or shatter its crystal parts, hold it back a bit. They probably didn't stand a chance at actually killing it but---

An explosion.

One of them was dead.

Another explosion, screaming was filling the air as more bangs resounded through the building, a cacophony of sounds as more and more of the small explosions resounded as Bakuda paused in the doorway, straining her ears to hear.

After the final explosion there was silence, a moment in which she allowed some small mote of hope to blossom in her heart, that it had been taken out by the sheer number of explosions, surely it could not survive being blown to literal chunks---

Clink clink clink clink.

The small hope was crushed, and with renewed energy she took the steps two at a time, slamming the heavily reinforced door to the basement shut behind her.

The lab was not the most comprehensive one that Lung had provided but it was still good enough. It had all she needed, cannisters and all sorts of materials both mundane and dangerous, some dubiously legal and the remaining fraction straight up controlled by half a dozen federal agencies.

Her power was throwing even more concepts at her as she sprinted to the desk, options that she hadn't even conceived of before were flooding into her mind. A bomb that would create a temporary singularity, one that would act as a miniature supernova, or turn everything in a block radius into cheese. It was migraine inducing, dozens of ideas all going toward the singular destruction of her pursuer, and the longer it went on the more total they were becoming.

Fuck fuck fuck---

One idea was completely unhinged, a bomb that would take out the central nervous system of every living being of everything for a one-hundred mile radius.

At this rate the ideas her power was supplying would have her rated as an S-Class threat!

She had no idea what her hands were even doing, she was assembling anything and everything at once in a blur of frenzied, panicked motion that was half Bakuda, half her power directing her, ramming all sorts of materials into cannisters

A bang at the door.

She was making a bomb every few seconds as another bang came from behind her, as the thing announced its presence. That door was sturdy enough to hold back near anyone short of a brute seven, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

The impacts on the door were deafening, the metal practically ringing as it was struck with a force far above human.

Her hands were cramping up, she was pretty sure that she had broken the skin on them with the fiction and lack of care she was working with, but right now her life was on the line.

The sound of metal tearing, screeching, the lock was broken.

She whirled around to see the thing pushing open the door.

Its right arm had been replaced with a spike of crystal, like the forelimb of a praying mantis, like one of the Spider’s limbs. Slowly... inexorably, its head turned slowly to focus on her, as if it already knew where she was and looking at her was merely a formality, it did not even pay attention to the rest of the room, only her.

She had everything her power could supply at short notice, and Bakuda turned and unloaded her full payload.

Grenades that exploded, grenades that imploded. Conversion explosions. Explosions that created more explosions. Ones that turned things to ice, another that instantly turned all ice to vapour. EMP. Hemotoxic clouds. Neurotoxic clouds. Oxidising. Ionising. Radiation and heat sufficient to kill a cockroach. Inverting gravity.

At this point it was less about finding the optimal solution than whatever could affect this thing.

The building rocked and shook, it sang with sounds inconceivable to normal ears.

And all along, it just. Kept. Moving.

It was half-crushed into a singularity only for the laws of gravity to be cancelled around it, its body rapidly unfurling again back to how it was like a spider dying in reverse.

Another bomb that evaporated all the water in its body, which caused its eyes to explode outwards in a burst of gore and viscera... and yet it just kept walking as if it could still see her, its body rapidly restoring itself.

Another, its body began turning to dust and collapsing to the floor only for it to continue the next moment as the effect stopped and its flesh returned.

The skin, muscle, and fat of the front of its body was atomised, revealing an entire skeleton of glittering crystal and strange bioluminescence, like some gruesome artistic piece made with meat and opal.

Every step forward was met with two or three separate effects exploding into being around it, it warped and turned. The centre of the cavernous basement transformed into an apocalyptic hellscape of fire and ice and matter and things that simply should not exist in the same space. The laws of physics were turning over themselves, rejected and replaced dozens of times over.

It was within fifteen feet now, the explosive radius for her bombs was too close.

"I surrender I surrender I surrender---" Heroes had to accept surrenders, right?

By now she was screaming anything, everything that might give her a moment more away from that thing, as full panic, as sheer inevitable hopelessness began to overwhelm her.

It should give it a pause for thought!?

It did not care.

Did it even understand English? Did it understand language as a concept?

All the information her power was supplying her implied something that wasn't even supposed to exist, it had no idea how to destroy this thing and was throwing as much shit at the wall as it could, anything to put it down permanently.

Her pleas were ignored as it got closer and closer.

Desperately, she drew her knife and lashed out, trying to sink it into the neck, into the spine, that might stop it for just a moment, right? And then she could flee---

It caught her hand.

It did not look away, even for a moment. Its eyes bored into hers, her mask was useless, it looked right into her soul with those eyes devoid of humanity, they were a dark brown that seemed darker and darker the more she looked, until it was like she was staring into a black hole that sought only to consume her.

The grip was like a vice, like the hand of Lung when he was pissed off, and it was cold, so utterly cold, her hand was going numb, a numbness that was rapidly spreading up her arm.

"You kill me and my deadman switch will release!" she screamed into its face.

It didn't care. She could nuke the entire city; she could kill everyone. It wouldn't care.

"I'll---"

Her hand was crushed, she could feel the bones snapping and splintering like soggy popsicle sticks, and for the first time she screamed in agony.

She was going to die, she was going to die! Her, Bakuda! In that moment she knew what was going to happen, knew the certainty of her fate, dead at the hands of this humanoid abomination in the basement, her genius unrecognised---

It drew its arm back, and not with speed, with a sort of slow, deliberate intention.

It wanted her to know exactly what it was about to do.

The punch was like getting hit by a train, in a fraction of a second she felt the metal of her mask warp and deform, she felt the back of her head explode with pain as it was smashed against the concrete behind her.

Another blow, the glass on the left side of her mask cracked and imploded inwards, not that she could fully appreciate that she would never see again through that eye, nor when the metal of the mask cut into her cheek and jaw, leaving deep, jagged cuts. Blow after blow rained down, each as hard and perfectly placed as the last despite the frenzy the thing was in.

She passed out, but was afforded that luxury for only a few moments as she came back to, to the feeling of a flesh and blood hand crushing her throat as she was held aloft.

Her solitary eye could just about make out the crystal hand being drawn back, flattened like a blade. Her body felt hot, it was like standing out in the sun on a burning summer day, burning her, the head produced by this thing was burning her alive---

For what felt like an eternity it held her there, as if waiting for her to slowly choke out in its grip, as it stared unblinkingly at her, watching her slowly die rather than just ending it all.

It was breathing again, it stared so unceasingly, she could barely see but somehow, she could still see those two voids that had no regard for her life whatsoever.

What was it doing? Was it watching her die for the sake of it? Did it want her to suffer, or did it not consider her worth the effort of killing more quickly?

Utter despair overcame her in her frantic, oxygen starved state.

Oh god please let this all end, please please---

Just before she blacked out, the thing lowered its hand.

What hell it had planned for her, she could not know as she fell into an unconsciousness filled with utter hopelessness.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Taylor should feel tired.

But she didn't. 

It was probably adrenaline and stress, a detached part of her mind said, the combination of both was something that she had gotten rather used to in the last few weeks. That should probably create a lot of red flags in her head, but sitting here in the hospital bed, the scratchy blanket rubbing against her palms, she found it rather hard to care.

She had saved the city.

Well, that might be a bit grand of her to think; Bakuda was a threat to many lives and had caused all manner of tragedies, pain, and suffering... Just earlier that night she had seen two men's bodies break down and liquify, two people who had lives and families, but she was not a threat to the entire city, right?

But either way, she had done it. 

Taylor felt so much more awake and alive right now, it was just like that heady feeling after she broke her first Gray Boy loop, that feeling of tentative hope and joy at being useful, at helping others and surviving another hurdle. So long as she was valuable. So long as she was helping. 

... It had also felt good to beat the ever-loving shit out of Bakuda, to hold the woman by the throat and make her pay just some small fraction of what she deserved, to feel bone and metal, tooth and glass break. 

She had never thought of herself as a violent person, but she was being thrown increasingly into violent situations.

When her three fellow Wards came in, she was glad to see them, even if Gallant was acting weird. But he was a weird guy, he often stared at her for long periods of time, and she would end up staring right back. But that was just Gallant being Gallant, that was what he was like, just one oddity in a species that was so very homogenous yet variable. For somebody who supposedly saw emotions and auras of people, he really was not good at speaking with them at all.

A deficiency.

A weakness he should improve upon.

But still, she had done her best to console them about it all. It was not their fault that they had had to leave her, hell that was what she had wanted them to do, she could hardly be bitter about it, and their offers to help coach her for any possible interview was kind. 

When they had to leave, she waved them off serenely.

Her next visitor was less restrained.

"Taylor!"

Her father crossed the room in just four strides, and within a moment she was being crushed by him. 

She hugged him back; he smelled like home.

And yet, just as swiftly, he was being pulled away by the doctor with an admonishment of some sort. One that he did not receive well, but begrudgingly, turning back to her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, dad," she assured him. He looked haggard, he had had a long day at the Association the day before and here he was at three in the morning to see her, she had to wonder whether he dreaded the house phone ringing whilst she was away, now, expecting bad news. "My power let me protect everyone and bring in Bakuda, and I'm completely fine!"

"They were talking about explosions and radiation, Taylor."

"I'm fine! I mean, look at me dad," she consoled, and pushed herself a bit further out of the bed in an effort to reassure him. Hell, the only reason she was in the bed in the first place was at the insistence of the doctors, she would have been much happier on a chair, or a nice comfortable sofa.

 "I don't like you being put in this level of danger Taylor, I really don't, why can't they have you doing less dangerous things!"

He sounded angry, and he had already raged at the PRT just a short while ago after the loop breaking incident. 

"It was not supposed to be dangerous, we got ambushed," she said. Her matter-of-fact delivery really did not help, and she winced. Her father paused a moment, the anger almost boiling over before, with an obvious effort, he restrained it and let out a rattling breath. 

"All that matters is that you are safe," he said, taking a heavy seat in the chair that Carlos had been sitting in earlier, leaning his chin on his clasped hands, elbows on his knees and all at once, he looked so much older, so much more tired and exhausted than she remembered. The air was heavy between them, and the detached serenity of her mood started to fade away, the cold, the slightly off tick of the clock above the door became like a booming drum echoing, as if to punctuate just how difficult it was to speak.

"Hey, dad."

"Yes, Taylor?"

"I love you, thanks for coming," she smiled, unable to help it. 

She would struggle to describe the expression on her father’s face. 

For a few minutes longer they spoke, most of which were her assuring him that yes, she was alright, that she was okay. And yet, just as soon as they had started---

"I am afraid you will need to leave now Mr. Hebert, until Ordinant’s radioactivity decreases it is simply too dangerous for you to be around for longer."

Radioactivity? Blinking, Taylor glanced over to the doctor. She had heard it mentioned before, but she had not been really paying it much attention.

"I am not radioactive."

That rather interrupted her father's inevitable retort, as both focused on her.

"I am afraid you are; we did mention it earlier when we brought you in."

Oh, she was distracted at the time replaying the events of the night over and over again in her head, she had not really listened to the doctor, she had suffered far worse injuries tonight without issue, what was something so insignificant as a small bit of radiation at this point?

"Anyway, as I was saying you have to leave now sir."

She really wanted him to stay. 

It was the first thought that had really broken through that serene haze, the first real bit of worry. Even the considerations of the publicity for what she had done had not compromised her mood, but the idea of her father being taken away did? She wanted him here, it almost took her a moment to register the strange feeling and emotion.

... It was odd. Of course, she would want her father here.

"Check again."

"Ordinant, we already established your radio---"

"Check again."

She was not normally one to order people about, it took her a little by surprise. 

Dutifully, although with an air of resignation, the technician did so, and then checked the results again... and again. When he left the room to consult with somebody, she waited patiently, staring at the door. She could hear him talking, presumably on a phone;

"... Sir, the levels are dropping, wait, they are gone entirely? The background rate is above average but..."

For several minutes, there was quite a fuss, during which time Taylor was ignored. More people came, technicians who had looked over her before, the grey-haired doctor. The clicking of Geiger counters filled the air, fast, slower than before, less frantic. Dozens of times a probe was pointed her way, 

Well. 

"My power must have adapted to it," she said nonchalantly. Honestly, they were just wasting time now. "Can you bring my dad back in now?"

"---And then I began dragging her to the door, where Sergeant McKingly found me," she finished succinctly.

Silence.

It had been a day since she was discharged, and alongside her fellow trio of Wards she had been given a day off school. Superficially, they were all ill from an outbreak of flu, in truth, they were helping to explain the drama of the day before, and for the last hour she had been comprehensively grilled for information, in far greater detail than the brief report she had given the night before. 

Missy and Dean had gone before her, Carlos was waiting back in the Ward's quarters for his own interrogation. 

The trio of the Director, Armsmaster and Miss Militia were all staring at her.

She might have glossed over and forgotten a few details in the time since the night, stress did that to a person, and she could swear that there were a few important things that she was missing...

"Well, firstly I have to commend you and your determination to bring Bakuda in, Ordinant," Piggot began. "And the trooper you saved, Private Lowe, is expected to make a full recovery, your actions saved the lives of him and your fellow Wards which the PRT cannot thank you enough for," Taylor felt pride blossom in her chest. "Although I do have a few things I would like to admonish you for in terms of the risk you put yourself in... what's done is done, but please be aware that you are by no means invincible, it is easy for Brutes to grow overconfident in your abilities only to bite off much more than you can chew."

She nodded along.

"We do have further questions about the injuries you inflicted on Bakuda, however, we have some concerns that you may not know your own strength."

"I have been at the punching bag quite a bit recently, Director, and a solid rock arm hits hard, I guess."

"Bakuda may never recover from the brain injuries."

"... I am not going to feel bad about it, Director," she said. "Honestly, she deserved it for hurting so many people, I she can be Birdcaged or locked away somewhere she can never hurt somebody again." On the tip of her tongue was another admission, about her temptation to end it all right there.

Admitting it was easy, and that was strange. She was a good person, she was a hero.

But the idea of killing the mad Tinker was much easier to consider than killing a normal person, it was as if her brain had put her into the same category as venomous spiders, something that she could slap a slipper down upon and kill without feeling bad about it at all. Humans are fundamentally good at putting things into categories, it is how they understood the world, in terms of comparison to previous experiences, the good, the bad.

Bakuda just fell into a category that she would not place a human being.

She felt the need to clarify.

"But... I was kind of not thinking straight throughout it all, I just wanted to get to Bakuda and beat the hell out of her, so yeah... I probably hurt her a lot more than needed, but I would do it again if in the same shoes," she admitted.

"... I cannot condone the attitude, but I understand it."

Of all the responses so far, that was the one that made her pause for a moment as she looked at the Director. It was difficult to remember at times that she was a survivor of a horrible situation. When she first joined, Taylor had tried to learn as much as she could about pretty much everyone in the Brockton Bay PRT and Protectorate, and even if it was years ago... Director Piggot's achievements were nothing to sniff at.

But still.

"There is also the matter of the PR after this," the Director moved on.

"I would like the credit for bringing her in," she said quickly, earning a frown from the elder woman for her interjection. "Sorry for interrupting, ma'am."

"Please do not make a habit of it."

"That would also not be a good idea, Ordinant," Miss Militia interjected. "If we did that then a target would be painted on your back, Oni Lee and Lung are both at large and will not be pleased to have lost Bakuda."

"So what, you would like to attribute the capture to somebody else, then?" she inquired.

"Yes."

"No. I want my name to be included, because I did it," she replied. "Let me have my achievement, the Gray boy loops are already being hidden away, at least put my name on the list of people who contributed to bringing Bakuda in, hell give the credit to McKingly and his men, he is the one who physically brought her in, after all."

"The PRT does not typically credit troopers in that way, Ordinant, normally it is Heroes---"

"Because the PR is better for a Hero to get the credit?" she asked, curiously.

The silence that followed was deafening, and yet she asked it perfectly curiously. 

"Because heroes can better protect themselves, Ordinant," Armsmaster corrected her in a stern tone of voice. "Attributing Bakuda's capture to Miss Militia, Dauntless or myself is a much safer option, and your father is keen for you to be protected to the best of our abilities."

"I am more durable than any of those suggestions."

"Ordinant, you cannot ask and expect the PRT to put you in harm's way like that."

There was so much she wanted to say that she struggled for a moment, physically biting the very tip of her tongue. 

"... But you already have."

She lost the battle.

"Ordinant, that is out of line,"

She stared back at Armsmaster.

The three of them should be intimidating, with their frowns, it was like the three of them were trying to physically impose the significance of their situation through their eyes and body language. But that was not important, she had seen and experienced far worse, the three of them were not even a grain of sand compared to meeting the gaze of the Spider. 

"Your attitude has been growing worse recently, and whilst I can appreciate the reasons why, that is not how you speak to superiors, Ordinant."

"... Apologies, ma'am."

They were superiors in terms of the organisation, but surely, they could objectively see that she was more durable than her three superiors in the Protectorate? Surely... wait.

Taylor shook her head, reaching up to massage her temple. Her thoughts were all scrambled; why was she attempting to invite danger to her? She was not a glory hound, well, a little glory would be nice, but to the point of being threatened or openly attacked?

This wasn't her, not Taylor Hebert the survivor.

...But at the same time...

She had hidden away from reality for a long time, she had been thinking about it for a while, about the desire to be a well known her before the inevitable.

And she was stronger now, better than the Taylor of before. Her ability to respond to danger, her instincts, her body was honed and adapted for this purpose by her power, she had gotten better with it all. The training, the experiences, even her mindset, she was a real hero, and not some silly girl who had not even realised she had a power for years. 

She might as well do all she could in the time she had, rather than continue to hide away, right?

"...I still want some credit."

The Director breathed heavily out of her nose in what may have been a sigh of exasperation, and changed the subject.

"We shall work that out later," she reached for a piece of paper and pursed her lips at it. "You have given the power testing team another headache, we wanted to review your power with you."

"What about it?"

"It has been misidentified, and you need to know about it and its repercussions. The team believes you have a highly form of Brute power that is adapting to threats to you, hence the rapid escalation in your regenerative and power immunity in the time that you have been with us, the more you have been hurt the faster you have healed, your ability to shrug off Parahuman powers has grown as well, all whilst holding back the Oort-Spiders crystal, and now you have endured the effects of multiple bomb varieties."

That all sounded familiar, in a way.

"... You are making me sound like Crawler," she complained.

"It is an unfortunate comparison, but an apt one. Although you are not mutating and adapting biologically, something that is probably a blessing."

Well, that was a positive... but this all also implied...

Taylor swallowed thickly, finally looking away from her three superiors. 

If she were to throw herself at every threat now, would she maximise her own powers ability to be useful? She really did not like that train of thought, it was a dangerous one, yet it sprung to mind as soon as the Director said it. Would her power scale up and adapt to the crystal better if she was hurt more, if she was exposed to more powers, this knowledge was such a slippery slope... she would much rather have not known it, actually? 

"I see, um, thank you, Director."

The meeting lasted only a few minutes longer, much to her relief.

P̩̼̌̚l͎̝̯͂ͣ͋̓a͍̝̐̒̇n̹̓ͭ̒e̦͕̳̥̅̎̓̋̑t̥̹̉̊̊ͬͧa̼͓͚̹̫͂ͦ͋͗̚r̻͑ͭÿ̱̦̹̳͖́ ͈̘̆̎c̙̗̯̖̹̍͐o̱̿̐̚n͈͖̠̂̽ș͚͎͔͔͗c̟̙͒̾i̟̺͇ͥ̽ͬȯ̝̪̣̆̇͆̎u͍̖̱͕̹͌s̗̼͉̰ͩ͊̿n͍̂ͩe͖͇̫̲̎̈̏s̤͚̈́ͣͨͬ͗s̬̈̌͂̆̄e͇͖̫ͯ͐s͕̙̭͓͈͗ ̙̖͙̄c̭̏̽ͧ̽o̟͎̭ͯ͐͌͒ň̟̤̘̭͉͗c̤ͦḛ̗̜̓͂ͮr͖͉̤͚̫̋̉ͪn͔̖͐s͉̘ͦ̇͂ ̖̉̍r̰͈͍̹̱ͤ̊̅e͚ͥͥ̄g͉̳̣̓ͬa̳̳ͯr͚̃̊͆ͣͅḏ̤̣̥̘͌̐̔ì͙̝n̺͍̦̖̈́̊͆̚g̦̘̑͗̌̈́ ͉̑ͣ̽̓ͭ'͎̟̣̝̿ͤͅH̠̞ͣ̊̒u͚̠ͥ̅̈̐m͓̟̭̪̝̿a͚̝͓̯ͩ͒n̙̥̟̒ ͔ͧ̔͑ͤm̟̄ͥ͛ͮo̬̗ͧ̇ͭ̓͋r̜̝̘͕ͨͧ̂͛ͬa̠̫̬͙̥͗͋̎ͩͭl̲̳̓̚ǐ̥t̝͈͖ͯy͙̳͈ͯ̇͒̈̂ ̮͉̥͖̏ͫf̯̣̥ͭͅr̜̻̍a̘̗ͪ̓̓m͙̠̯͗ͅê̩͈̎͐̒̈́ͅw͓̖̯̦͊ͥ̄̋ͧo̜̦̖̬̅̆ͧr̥͋k͉̳̙̊̏ͯͥ'̥̘͉̽̊ͅ;̥̱̄ ̣͕́ȓ̺͖̙͒̎̚e͎̗̾͌̄j̬̔ͧe̩̪̝͛̚č̲͉̱̭̻͋̓͌t͕͎̤͒̊ͣȅ͎̭̍ͧͫͅḓͣ̓͛͑ͅ

(Planetary consciousnesses concerns regarding Drones 'Human morality framework'; rejected)

P͖ͯ̏l͓͔̲̩̥͒a̜̐̑ͦ̒̀n̦͚̟̲ͬ͂ͥ̀͋e̗͑͑͛t̫̫̭̱̍̽͆a͈̜͓̲̪̍̌r̯͈̫͓͛ͮ̑y͙̲̒̉ͤ̑̐ͅ ̦̞̣͂͂ͅͅc̬̋͗͗̊̀o͈̺̫̜͋n̂̓͒͒ͅs͉̘̆̈c̳̤̰̈͐̚ĩ̯͐ͭo̦̰̥ͯͩ̾͑u̘̘̲͗͐̍s͉͎̃ͣͨ̂ñ̯̪͌ͧ̓̎e̬̮ͮͤ̚̚s̺̅s̮͖̹̓ͨ͑͑ͬ ͍͓̱͎̺ͭͦ̒c̤̮͚̥̦ͣͤ̐ͦo̙̠ͤͅn̰̦̳͗̎ͥ͑c̘͕̠̗̥̔ͩ͛́̚e͚̪̍ȑ̯̲̳̖ͫͬn͉͇̂s̤͚ͦ̽͗͑ͣ ̺̙͓͔͉̅̑r̜̺̦̖̀͗̃ě̤̞̙̚g̪̠̙ͪͮ̽̌͛a͍̱͑̑͌̓r̯̝̺͆͊͌d̻͇ͫ́i̹̙̟͛̀n͈̏͋̉̌g͈̖̜ͫ͋ͮ ̤̬͚̣͖͋͐̑ͪD̘̲̃̿ͮ̋ȓ̠͖ó̝̜͆̒ͫn͙̠̠͓͂͑̑͆̏e͖̺͇͍ͭ ̹̱͕͔̑͑̋ͯ̚s̠̼̙̪͙͊̈́̆͑̅t̯͇̲̫ͭͥͯ̒a͔̩̥̝̓͆̒͐t̝͓̣̭̠̐u̮̞̦̬̦͐́̈́sͦ̇̍ͬ͆ͅ ̝̖̦ͣ̿̍a͇̩͈̭̒ͦs̯̦̦̬̔̈ ̲̠̼̩̍͛̽ͯ͛ͅ'̠̪͓͔ͪͬḦ̲́̐ͩu͖͗͂̎̅m̝͚̩͖̩͒̈́ͤ̚ḁ̮͙̌̄ͫͅṇ̥̪̃'͖̭̫̮͗̊̓ͬͩ;̖̪̇̈́̈̇̇ ̠͇̖͖ͥ̎ͮṛ̝̎̒̅̆̍e͓̘̳͊͌ͪͅj͓̍ͥ̀ė͉̹͖͒̀ͫc̞̹̥̞͉̒̑t͈̮̻̽͌ͧ̚̚ͅe̞͌͊̏͐ḏ̙͍̈́̔̎)̺ͥ̓ͧͣ

C͈̻ͩ͌̎o͓͍͑m̫ͯ̉ͨͅm̱̗̔́͐u̺͒ͨn̘̟̄̏i̬͙̓̆c̖͖̺ͫͦ͗ͦ̊ͤã̰͓̰̀t̜͙̭̮͒̑ͦ͑ͧi̟̊ͣ͑̃͆ͣn̳̦̪͉̈g̟̳͙̼ͧ͆ͮ̆̅ ̲ͫͥ̆̀͛̅d̤ͩͦͧ̑ͯ͆e̦͔͎̍̊ͥ͒̊s͍̋i̫̯̝ͯr͚̺͎̠ͬͯ̎̂̓̽e͈͚̔ͧͯ͊d̻̝̘̙̥ͯ ̣̏f̲̜̠͂̆̐ͮ̿̀i̪̥̳̐ͅn̺͌a̞͖̜̟ͧ̓ͫ̑͑̈l̹̹̖̗̰ͦ̏͂ ͚̗ͯ̿ͅD̗̒̊͋̄r͖̟ͩ̾̒̔ͅo̻͐̑͐n̩͚͕̱͊͌̓e͙̺̜̣̺̣͑ ͚̬͕̫͕ͮf̻̖͕̣ͤͩr̼̗̙̃ã͔̝̪̜ͫͦ̎͂m̱͓̺̦̣̊͋͐́ͤͥe̙̣͛ͯ ̥̄̿̏̌ͧ̓t̗͖ͦ̍͂̌͋ŏ͚̓ ͍ͨ̊ͣͥd̙̜͖̜̱ͦṙ̬̤̰̼̺͑ͦͅo̺͍̟ͭͬͩͩ̌͒n̬͙̈́ͨe̻ͭ̉ͪͧ ͖͇̹̙̉̓͌ͪͨc͕̞̾̓ȍ͍̙̭̭̐n͙͓̹̦͕̳ͥ͂̉v̲̥̭͙̩̝̅ͥ̂̾ͤ͂e̦̾́͑r̻͓̰ͧ͗͑͐ͭ̚s͉̘̤̺̝̺͌͒i̳͓͍͇̐ͪ̒̾̓o̘͆͒͛͆n͎̘̮͚̜͕̓ͬ̐ ͇̘̞̒̓m͔̟̜̑̑̒̊a͙͔̐ͦ͌̉t̬͗ͧ̃ͬ̊e̹̣͚͛ͧͮ̌r͔̤͇̬͌ͬ̂i͎̞̾͆̍a̰̖͍͉͐̉͂̀l͕͓̙̈

(Communicating desired final Drone frame to drone conversion material)

Chapter Text

Magpies76: Just got confirmation that Reavator and BigGrandBlue can make it, thank you both very much I appreciate it is a much longer bit of travel for you both.

BigBlueInsomniac: Of course, Kirsten, wouldn't have it any other way

LittleOwl : Me and Emma are coming, her dad is bringing us, sorry I have not been posting much, I kind of got into a scuffle and have been away from my phone.

SkySkyDaydream : Managed to get leave, gonna have somebody moving me about so hope you'll not mind that. Hope you are okay Owl, stay safe.

MagPies76 : You okay LittleOwl?

LittleOwl : Yeah, all okay Just a bit scary

MagPies76 : And of course, not Solomon, we'll do all we can to make sure you are all comfortable. 

SkyskyDaydream : Thanks Kirsten. How is he?

Magpies76 : Meeting with Joe/CreateRandom, I'm giving them some space. Ra1ndrops is here as well but she is going to speak with him afterwards.

Magpies76: I'm so thankful you'll all be coming and all you're doing for Joe

Magpies76 : Sorry, I had to step away for a bit, I just... I'm sorry everyone. I just wish none of this had ever happaned.

Magpies76 : Sorry everyone, that was inappropriate of me.

LittleOwl : It's okay Kirsten, if you want to say anything or rant, just message me, it's okay.

LittleOwl : Sorry, that was probably a bit forward, sorry.

Magpies76 has sent you a message

Her body was aching. 

Perhaps it was growing pains, or more likely it was her time spent in the gym getting in some exercise and practising her punches, but Taylor wandered the halls of Brockton Bay's Headquarters feeling just a little sorry for herself and eagerly anticipating leaving on her patrol later. She was with Shadow Stalker and Kid Win on a walk through a safe neighbourhood.

Supposedly safe, she would be paranoid and on edge even then...

But the recent tensions in the city were starting to calm down.

In the end, the matter of the PR had been settled with a half-way solution, the news celebrated the capture of Bakuda as a 'joint effort between multiple teams working in unison following an attempted ambush of a routine Ward's operation', and her name had been at the top of the list of individuals who had taken part, with a special commendation and mention of 'heroism under fire.'

To call rushing her out at all times of the day to cancel out dangerous after effects of Bakuda's bombs a 'routine Ward's operation' was stretching it, but it sounded better than the reality of the situation.

Thankfully, there were no videos of her heroic laying on the floor cancelling out explosions and then storming into the building to beat Bakuda senseless, no, the rather doctored and highly edited account of the night's events was more than enough for her.

it was enough that she was even getting occasionally recognised on her one weekly patrol!

Most people still wanted to speak with the others Wards accompanying her more, but the occasional person actually knew her Cape name now! And PHO had been speculating on her powers for a little while, it gave her a sort of nervous, giddy-butterflies-in-the-stomach sort of sensation.

Even if the main thread title discussing the events of that night, 'Brockton Bays Bomber, Bakuda, Beaten!' made her feel exasperated every time she read it, it was so tacky and tasteless.

But still, she saw it as a win for her, she had managed to get her superiors to acknowledge her point about being recognised, even if they were leaning on her a bit more heavily to be respectful and less blunt in how she spoke with them all.

She was trying her best on that point.

Whilst she walked, she briefly checked the Calendar on her phone.

Patrol in an hour, so she could fit in a full shower and change at her leisure, maybe do a bit of homework? And then flying out to Pittsburgh for a weekend of loop breaking with Coleson, Emma and her father, returning Sunday night just in time for a week of school and her therapy session Monday evening. If nothing else, she was managing to fill every moment of time with something, rather than allowing it to be dead time.

"---city this time?"

Somebody was talking down the corridor, and as she put away her phone she focused on the sounds.

"There is every chance that Brockton Bay will be the target this time, according to the predictions, but we've got a few weeks to prepare more."

"Which one seems most likely?"

"Impossible to know yet, good chance that it could be Leviathan seeing as we are on the coast, but it has attacked inland cities before."

Endbringer?

Oh... it had been a few months right, the world would be increasingly holding its breath, waiting for the metaphorical Sword of Damocles to fall upon whichever city it was that would face the brunt of the unnatural disaster’s wrath. The only consolation was that the Spider had never attacked a city, a small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless, Taylor had no doubt that if it did decide to advance upon an urban centre then it would be a lost cause.

Just thinking baout it make a cold shiver run down her spine and her heart rate to spike, hammering in her ears like a drum.

It was a shame that none of the Endbringers felt the need to go and destroy somewhere like Elisburg.

But still.

She passed the speakers, a trio of PRT Troopers, including McKingly, the officer who responded first and helped her load Bakuda into the back of the van. He gave a sharp nod, and she smiled back, but passed them without comment on their discussion. 

An Endbringer attacking Brockton Bay?

Everyone had those thoughts, it was a grim reality of living on Earth Bet, the knowledge that every six months, wherever you were living might end up being the target of a seemingly unstoppable force of nature that would utterly destroy your life, whether bringing it to an end, destroying your property or just forcing you to flee everything you had known. 

And worse, in some cases. 

She had thought about it before, of course, imagined herself and her father having to run. She knew the exact location of the nearest three Endbringer shelters to her home of course, but now that she was a Hero, it would be her duty to take part in an Endbringer attack, right?

What could she do against them though... against Behemoth perhaps she could cancel out its infamous kill aura? But then she would just get pulverised under a single fist, or blasted with lightning... but maybe she could be useful that way? Leviathan was a wash, literally, cancelling a tsunami just left you with a tsunami still heading your way. And the Simurgh... probably nothing. She would be useless against the winged one.

But maybe she could still help with search and rescue or something like that?

The fact that she was already speculating on it all was worrying, in its own way.

She sighed as she walked, but it was no use, now that the idea was in her head, she could not stop turning over ideas, running mental simulations of how it would go, what she could do in an Endbringer battle. That same burning curiosity and drive to learn more about Capes had always been there for each Endbringer as well, but there was far less of them for her to learn about. 

She put it mostly aside as she returned to the Wards quarters and prepared for the evening.

"Just slightly lift it here, you need to keep the right posture or else it gets kind of uncomfortable to hold it for long," Taylor lifted the end of the flute, the one held in her friends’ hands, as carefully as she could. Emma frowned slightly, but gave it another go, the note was a little too forceful, her fingers were still a little slow on the keys, but she was coming along well.

Rather than hiring a professional tutor, Emma had decided that Taylor would be her teacher. 

She had no doubt that her family could easily afford the finest flautist in Brockton Bay to teach her. It was rather humbling in a way, but she could not help but think that Emma was holding back her full potential by being taught by her. 

Although, she was coming along very rapidly, it was near superhuman.

Just the other day, when they were in Pittsburgh, they even played a little duet together.

Finishing the current piece, Emma took a breath and after a moment spoke up.

"How many loops have you got left after today, Tay?"

"Three more tomorrow, although they are on the other side of the city, then we head to the next place."

Another long weekend, by now she was spending almost as much time out of Brockton Bay as she was in it, and with it came the full convoy of Capes, troopers and of course, Agent Coleson, who she rather suspected was gaining some degree of infamy among the east coast PRT. The man strode into some of the biggest PRT headquarters in the country as if he was going to personally pull the place apart with his bare hands, a good number of Heroes had scarpered rather than get in his way.

Watching him discuss with Legend the protocols for her safety had been embarrassing but also kind of... cool.

She had grown rather fond of the man who acted as her supervisor during these work trips.

"They are really having you pack them in," Emma noted, neutrally, as Taylor brought her mothers flute to her lips and rapidly moved through the notes to warm herself up. It took her a few seconds, during which Emma watched.

The redheads’ eyes followed her fingers.

"I don't mind it; it keeps me busy... I like being useful," she admitted, trying to leave the topic there.

Unfortunately, her friend was more persistent than that.

"Tay, you don't need to push yourself to do something every moment," she said, reaching up to pinch the end of her mother’s flute and pulling it away. She let it, bringing the instrument to her chest and resigning herself to this conversation. 

"... It's not that easy Em's, there's so many loops and I am the only person who can break them."

"Even then," Emma pressed.

How could she explain it? Emma wouldn't understand what it was like to have a power, the duty and responsibility to make use of it, the pressing need to put her power to good use. And increasingly recently she had made the decision... had that realisation that she needed to live, to do as much as she could in the limited time that she had been afforded.

James’s upcoming funeral was just another reminder that every moment of her time was precious, was a gift that could not be wasted.

"Listen Em's, it's not that easy, you wouldn't..."

She stopped herself, and for a moment it was like the world had stopped as her friend stared right into her eyes, eyes that seemed so sharp and piercing boring into hers.

Suddenly, she felt as if she had crossed some manner of line, the deafening silence between them was like an ocean, vast and incomprehensibly deep.

"... Were you about to say that I wouldn't understand, Tay?" Emma began, slowly, softly. "Really? You really think I don't know what it's like?" Her friend’s voice was a combination of angry and hurt, she was frowning even as her eyes looked just a little wet, and from the corner of her eyes Taylor saw the way her friend's prosthetic fingers clenched at her side.

Her stomach sank as she realised what she had said, as the benefit of hindsight struck like a truck. Of course... of course Emma would know, Emma alone would really know what it was like, even if she would live a full life instead of Taylor.

"I... no, sorry Emma. I wasn't thinking."

"No, you really weren’t," Emma snapped back.

In silence they stood for a moment, in a yawning gulf of things she wanted to say.  She hated moments like this when, for all her drive, all her recent experiences and her power, she had no idea what to do right now, ideas and imagined simulations of ways this could go turned over themselves in her head and all of them inevitably went negative in some way.

Why was it like this? Why could she pursue a mad bomber through a building racked with explosions, yet she couldn't even think of the right words to say to her best friend?

"Tay."

Emma reached forward and took her shoulders, and even though Taylor knew she was strong enough to move or break out of the grip she didn't. She let herself be held in place as Emma went on, unblinking. 

"Listen, you're not alone so long as you have me, or your dad, got that?"

She opened her mouth.

"Got that, right?"

All at once Emma was so intense that Taylor almost found herself nodding automatically in agreement.

It was only after a moment that the other girls’ words registered in full. She knew Emma would recognise that fact, the other girl was far more perceptive of people’s actions than she was. She forced her mouth to move and words to come to her lips.

"Yeah, I know I have you both, and it really means a lot to me---"

"And you don't have to force yourself to be useful for anyone else, do it because you want to, right? It's enough to just be you, Tay'. Just you, that's all we need," Emma's face was just a small distance away, close enough to fill her entire vision, the hands on her shoulders were gripping harder, enough to make the crystal faintly creak.

"Y-Yeah."

And then she was brought into a hug, a crushing hug, as if Emma was trying to crush Taylor into her. They stood, swaying there a moment before Emma loosened up the hug.

"... C'mon, lets watch a movie or something," Emma half-suggested, half-demanded, letting go of her and taking her crystallised hand with her prosthetic one.

She was supposed to be back at the Headquarters soon...

But fuck it, she'd message Coleson and see if she could stay with Emma and her father at the hotel tonight.

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks of intense loop breaking, blitzing through cities, small towns and even one or two small villages, returning to the Bay just for a few days to do the bare minimum of required schoolwork.

She felt exhausted, like she was going through the wringer.

She felt alive, like every moment was not wasted.

Giddy with the success that she was only partially allowed by the Bay, the praise and thanks, the relief on the faces of those whom she saved, she woke each morning with aching limbs but the energy and purpose to move them. Every day she felt as alive as that moment she made the decision on the concrete pavement, bloodied and broken under Bakuda's tender care. 

Everything felt new again after an experience like that, she had it before when she broke that first loop, but it was stronger this time. 

Whilst sitting eating lunch with Emma just the other day before they were due to drive to the next town, she had taken a moment to stop and really look. The trees rustling in the wind, a cool breeze on her face. It was not quite the world she was used to, in a way it felt a little alien and other, really. Perhaps it was because she was used to Brockton Bay, to the city

"This world's pretty beautiful when you stop and look at it."

Emma said nothing for a second as she stared out as well.

"Yeah, it really is." 

Her time outside the Bay breaking loops had become a strange joy, one that veered between the delightful and the horrific. Even if her name would only ever be tangentially known in the Bay for the Bakuda incident (even with her special commendation…) the way Ordinant was received by the PRT Departments she visited was growing addictive. Notable Capes would greet her, she was growing used to it and enjoying the little conversations with people whose careers she had been following for years. 

It was both easy and difficult at the same time because on some level she knew that it would not last, and in the moment, it was easy to forget that.

But with the combination of seeing first-hand the torture of the people she was sparing from the loops and James’s funeral coming up halfway through their trip, the heady joys of being useful and observing all she could always come up sharply against the cold hard reality of the world. 

It was all well and good to be recognised as the heroic, life-changing Ordinant, but then another to see the unglamorous, painful reality of the world. 

Her life had descended into a bipolar haze that swung like a steady pendulum between these two states. 

Ah, and there was, dwelling on the situation.

"You ever get weird thoughts looping in your head?"

"... Not overly often, I always keep my mind on work to be honest," Coleson replied, glancing up from his laptop. "When I stop working or keeping busy, I always find myself thinking about old friends that I have lost in this line of business," he said. 

No sugar-coating, no pretence. 

"Jesus, keep it light, chief!" grunted one of the troops nearby. 

He shrugged in response.

"What are you thinking about then?" 

"Just about that girl yesterday, the one having her eye taken out with a spoon over and over---" a nearby trooper conspicuously winced and was suddenly very interested in looking out the window. "The one who triggered with that power to have their detached body parts continue to work from a distance, I have it running through my head a lot... it's not a very useful power, but to her..."

"It probably saved her from needing life-changing surgery," Coleson finished for her as she trailed off.

"Yeah. I often find myself thinking about powers and how they work like that," she shrugged.

For a moment he remained quiet, frowning slightly

"If you want to take a brief break from breaking loops, we can, Ordinant, you've already seen a lot in the last few days."

She had. 

There was no point denying that. Her mind was just dwelling on the more horrific things, the idle speculation on the powers and their applications was probably just a stress response to try and detract and focus on something else, right?

“No, I want to continue.”

The pendulum swung.

It was a fine day for a funeral, in that the weather was miserable. 

By now, Taylor was not sure whether she would have preferred it to be sunny, a sunny funeral felt as if the world itself was mocking everyone present, as if the world was celebrating despite how everyone present felt. But a rainy funeral kind of felt like the opposite, as if the world was mourning with you. Her mother’s funeral had been in the rain, and a good number of the ones she had been to since had been the same. 

By now the two situations were conjoined in her mind.

She and Emma were sharing an umbrella, shoulders pressed together as they silently watched as the memorial was raised, a simple stone on which was written the name James Carver, alongside some details, dates, and relations.

James himself had long since been atomised, the process for dealing with crystallisation victims was so complete that there was nothing left behind whatsoever, no body or ashes to scatter at all. A memorial and eulogy was the only thing that the living could offer the dead, in a cold parody of what would normally be afforded to the living. 

They did not even have the virtue of becoming worm food.

Still...

They still had their own little ways.

Walking in pace with Emma, Alan Barnes standing off from the side, Taylor watched as Emma reached into her coat and pulled out a small, neatly sealed envelope. On its back were the words 'for James', which she carefully placed in the small box that the deceased’s sister, Kirsten was holding. She was an attractive girl, or would be if it were not for the running makeup and the clear signs of long-term stress that hung about her like a shroud. 

The letter went atop those of the other seven remaining survivors of the summer camp, all of whom were currently arranged behind the two of them, and when Emma moved aside and took the umbrella from her, Taylor took out her own letter and placed it with the others.

She had gotten used to writing them by now, she had penned over fifteen of them at this point, ever since the tradition became the norm within the support group it had become almost rote. The taking up of the pen and the evening spent in lonely reflection trying to find the right words.

None of them would ever be read, the box would be buried at the foot of the memorial. 

"T-thank you, everyone."

Kirsten's voice was barely audible over the loud hammering of the rain against the umbrella, and perhaps that was the loudest that she could manage?

All the others were in wheelchairs, or in the case of Gabrielle and Daniel, aka BigBlueInsomniac and SkySkyDaydream, stood upright strapped to a sort of gurney that could be manoeuvred and manipulated to stand mostly upright.

One of those two would be next, probably Daniel.

The box was carefully buried, Kirsten kept her back to them all as somewhere in the distance thunder boomed as they watched and waited for the last step to be done. For all the effort to organise it, the little ceremony had barely lasted half an hour after all those who wished to speak had done so.

Not far away, one of them brought their hands together

Aimee, Ra1ndrops. A small girl with mousy brown hair and glasses, now in a wheelchair, crystallised halfway up her torso but still able to move her arms.

"... He's somewhere better now," she said, "one with our lord."

"Yeah..." Joe joined her in bringing his hands up and together. "With our lord."

Taylor rather struggled to believe in the notions of a god that could allow all this to happen. The closest thing to the living god was a flying golden man who would as soon save a kitten as he would fight off an Endbringer, working without ceasing, without direction. No, there was no such thing as a god, just a cold, vast cosmos filled with stars and the tiny creatures that clung to their orbiting planets across countless galaxies and dimensions.

Both prayed, Taylor did not remember them both being religious, but when one faced one’s own mortality growing closer every day, she supposed that plenty would reach for god, for religion. 

A nice balm to soothe the soul, but one she could not find herself. 

The final eulogy came to an end, they moved into the room for the wake, and Kirsten departed ostensibly to use the bathroom... although Taylor rather suspected that she needed five minutes to herself. As drinks were shared, Taylor could increasingly feel the gaze of the others on them both. 

The relative slowness of both her and Emma's crystallisation had been a topic of conversation before, for better and worse. 

But today most of the attention was on Emma.

"... What is she doing here, anyway?" it was Gabrielle, who had managed to turn her head enough to look in her and Emma's direction.

"Huh?"

"Don't huh at us, we can see them," the immobilised girl said, glowering. "You've gotten prosthetics, you even got any more crystal left on you?" 

"... No, but I---"

"Then why are you here!?" it came out as a choked, rasping snarl, although there was only so much air that the girl could force out of her lungs. "You aren’t even gonna... suffer like us?" Gabrielle took in another breath, as big as she could, and there was the faint sound of the crystal creaking as her mostly solid torso warped and tried to accommodate the action. 

The end result was that she was left breathless, small, short gasps of air passing out her mouth just from that small effort.

Emma hunched over, and at once Taylor was aware of how much taller she had gotten over her friend, the redhead casting her gaze towards the ground. 

"... I have the same right to be here," Emma said.

And yet...

"Even then, don't you think it's kind of rude, you could have at least covered your prosthetics up, it's like you are trying to show them off," it was Daniel, who was looking at Emma's prosthetic hand moodily. "Like, good on you for not having to die like the rest of us, but still..."

"I wanted Emma here... originally those prosthetics were intended for me," she said suddenly, cutting him off. “They didn't work for me, so they tried them with Emma, and they did, they cannot replicate what happened anyway," she lied. She had known that at some point these questions would be asked, and had been putting it off since she first found out about Prosthetist, since she made her resolution to try to save herself. 

And then...

"Heh..." it was a small, depreciating sound, Emma raised her eyes to look at the others.

"Don’t worry guys, when the promised time comes, I'll die just like all the rest of you."

Not on her fucking watch.

In silence the group stood, the air thick and heavy, so unutterably weighty that Taylor could feel it pressing down upon her shoulders. 

Alan hadn't heard his daughter, and when everyone was focused on Kirsten’s return and her last few words, Taylor stole a glance at her friend. The redhead was downcast, even more so than before given the grim circumstances they were in today. Was she crying? Taylor leaned closer and brought an arm around her friend to pull her closer, as close as she could, making Emma look up at her. 

There was something else in her gaze, as if she was trying desperately to say something without words, but what it was Taylor could not tell.

And then Emma looked away, leaning against her but turning her attention to the faded carpet of the church.

Just seven of them left now.

When they got back, Emma locked herself away for the rest of the night, and Taylor sat with her back to the door, waiting, until the early morning when silently she was let in to sit with her friend in her blanket nest to share in the sombre company.

"...It's alright." 

She had no idea which of them the words were for.

È͎͙͇̯̭̭̹͌̌̈́n̬̻̝̎̍̉ͬ̏̈́g̻̗͊͊́ͯ̂͑͗a̩̹̞̟̣̲̗̋́g̬͇͈͈̦ͫ̅i͓͎̝̗ͩͣ̒n͎̩̏̓̈ǵ̲̩̼͔ ͇̯̜̟̜͙͎ͩ̃P̝͓̱̥̯͙͒͋̽̄ͅa̰̪̦̅̾̍̎͒r̩̲͉̦̪̮ͭ̑̒̊ǎ̲d̪ͥ̉i̪̩̭ͣͦ̔̑̃͆̾g͕̠̪̭̤͖̃m̜̝͎̳̣̃̿͐̒ͫ͑ ̰͒͋̏͊I̖̞̠̾̉ͨͭͦn̥͇͍͆ͦ̽͐̽f͇ͨ̏͛ͦ̒ĺ̮̫̦͔̱̬̞̅̆ạ͈̤͛̋̓͛t̼͎̫͓͔̞̥ͧͬ̃ͬ̿i̖ͤ͗ō̻̝͔ͅn̺̭͚̯̼̏͒̈̈͌͋̆.̜̖͎͎̲̏̋͋̉͂͊ͮ ̠̬͐̿͊A͈̜̒̊ͬn̺͆ͭ̍̐͑ä̯͍̻́̀l̬͈ͯͧ̚̚y͇̮̣̼̣ͮ͐̅ͩ̈́s̞̿̌ͤ̋̍ͬḭ͈̮̥͂ṣ͗̓ͬ̆ͮ̈́:̹̙̳̳̳̂ͨ ͚̼͎͊̉ͤ̆͆̊͑E̻̼̭͋ͣ̾̇̄ͭ̔ś̺͕t͙̓͒a̪̪͓̞̠͖̗ͣ̅̅̀b̮̩͖̅l̻͉͉ͩ̂̏i̪̥̫̯͆̄̌ͬͅs͇̪̫̓̂h͚̤̒̒̀ͅm͇̜͈ͫͩ͌̊́ẻ̻̣ͯn̙̘͓͓̪̟͋̎͂ͫt̙̃ͪ̈ͤͭ ̣̤̙̘̭ͫ̿o̥̳̖͖̽̅̽ͪͬ͌ͥf̱̦̥̔̐̾ ̹̰͉̙̳̔̽̃̒ͬ̃i̯̽̾̈͌ͬ̚̚n̮̹̞̦̰͇̄ͬ̐ͩ̆ͬͫd̜̟̭͒e̮̩ͦ̔̈́ͦ̅͌p͕̱̬̳̞̜ͥĕ͚͉͍̱̜͉̔n̜̜̞̠̯͕̿ͪͩ̀ͥ̚d͍͕̗ͬ̄ȅ͕͓̭̘̱̤̜̋ͮ͐̓n͈̤̭̔̍t̖̹͈͑ͪͤ͒̿̑ ͓͇ͣ̓m̖̹̮̞ͤ̋ͅö͖͕̙͎́́̄ͫt͈͕̦̝̭̗̅̎̈͋̀̄̅î̦͍͇͒l̻̪͔̙ͤͮ̅͗i̥̜̤̻̖͈̹ͤ̅ͣt̜̻̹̦̠̍̍ͫͦͥ͗y̭̳͓̖̐ͪ̌ͯ ̘̹͈͋͊̌̃ͩ̋a̩͇̞̱̩͔̘ͧ̓̈́ͧ̚n̗̹̻͕̫̑̆ͦ̓̊ͥd͔̤̼̼̩̥͉̂͂ ̲̺̩̔͆̽͒ͪ̏h̞̭̰̙̟̬̘ͤ̋o͖͆̒ͥ̉̑s̜̭̫̳̥̰ͩͩt͙̞ͪ̐ͯ̅-͖͂d͇͇̱ͤ̾̐͂̔ͨi̱̲͙̯̱̩̦̅̌̏͛ͤ̆r͚̐e͍͖̱͇̲̲̔ͨ͊ċ̬̳͈͔̻͍̉ͅt̻̥̤̘̮͂̔ͅȋ̻̓ͮ͂̿o͙̥ͣ̈̈́̐́ͫͅṇ̯͍͈̺̼ͪͦ̏͐̚ ̳̦͓̿͗ͮ̉͗́ä̳̤̭c͉̟ͧͫt̫͙̃ī̝ͥ́o̻̟̰̗̺͍͚͋̉̌ͧn̤͚̤̜ͯ̽̌̔̉̉͌ ̯̟̳̾̾̒̾̓ͅo̜̫̅f̖̍ͩ̾̓̚ ̜͔̺͔̬̖̀̔͌͑ͧ̌d͎̬̬̹͛ě̼̬̞̝̩̟̎t̻͕̟̠̥͉͊ä͉̳̝̥ͤ̿̓̀c͍̗͛h̪̾͗ͩ̃̉e̖̜̲͇̦̯͌̽d̹̔ͤ̈́̚ ̻͛͒̒l͍̖͍̱̬̣͗ͮ̋ͨ͌̚ḯ̝̪͖̊ͦ͛̀͂m̥̤̦̣̰͐̃ͪ̚b͎͕͕̭̳͉̏ͭ̄̊ͪͅś̘̀̇̈́͑ͨͪ ̭̰̠͈̱̜̂͂ͅ

ȃ͖̦̞̹̻͇͍̍n̳̺̦̠̲̎̌͑̏̏ͬ̅ͅd̮̮̟ͦͮͫ̚ͅ ̝ͧ̏ͥ͌s͔̮͉͚̝͑͂̓̓ͅu̳̠̖̝͔̖̼ͬͪͩf̰̜͍̖̹̝ͤͯf̮̼̠͔̪ͪi̖̖̲͕̪ͧͨc̮̤ͪͧ̽ͪ̎̓͋i͈̓̓̈̅̑̍ͥe͎̭͇̙̣͚ͦ̽̓͂ͯ̓n͙̖̩̮̠ͮt͇̮̫̪̩̩̖ͧ̿̉͂́l̤̥̲̟̰ͪ̒͛͛̿ͨ̋y͓̫͋͋ ̲ͨ̋ͨ̔c̹͛o͇̺͎̊̔̽ͭ̿m͕̜̱͙͔̱̖ͯ̎̎̊ͭͭ̏p̲̝̖̻̥̼ͫ͌ͨ̋l͇̈͑̓̆̀̋e̬̣̩̟͓̔̂x̠̽͒ͭͤ́͋̔ͅ ̭͓̬ͪ̑͒͗ͅb̘̙̞͕̑ͯͅọ̫̻̬̐͊̐ͦd̘̝͖̠̜͉̳ͥ͗̆̈y͇͈̟͔̺̻͉͊ͯ ͖̭̀ŝ̬̙͇̙̫̰̥̆ĕ̞g͋ͪͅm̦̞̳̜̣̘̫̾̄͌e̤̱̫͈ͪ̑n͓̜̹̮̗̫ͤͦ̽͋͗͊̒t͎̩͉̜̘̐̈̍̐͌̇s͍̦̦̫͓̦͛ͣ̀̄͒ͧ͋.̪͓͓̘̹̇͌ͧ̈

(Engaging Paradigm Inflation. Analysis: Establishment of independent motility and host-direction action of detached limbs and sufficiently complex body segments)

Chapter Text

Just as soon as things were improving for the Bay, they weren’t.

The names of the various capes within the Empire Eighty-Eight had been revealed to the world.

Sat in a PRT van driving to her first loop of the day, Taylor rubbed at her temple. 

Couldn't the gangs go a fortnight without fucking something up? First it was Bakuda and now the Empire was up in literal arms after attempted arrests and other legal actions. Taylor would most certainly not want to be one of the various agents and office workers in Brockton Bay right now, that much was for sure, and she was rather dreading returning to her home. What state would she find it in? Would there be a constant ground war now, would there be open conflict in the street, grand battles between the forces of the PRT and the Empire?

Wasn't revealing a capes name against the rules?

Yes... thinking back, the PRT had made sure to give her a very grounding conversation regarding identities, of the Unwritten Rules.

And now those rules were broken, shit was once more hitting the fan.

Their home, would she find it there when she returned? All her memories of her mother were in that house, if it were levelled, she would just have her tombstone in the lonely graveyard nearby, and her mother’s flute currently safely stowed away in her father’s luggage.

Her heart felt warm, like it wanted to burst.

The stress, the thoughts about what was going on back in the Bay...

Reaching up, she rubbed at that space, it felt so tight... maybe she had angina, or was having a panic attack? But it was just that sensation, nothing more... was she alright? It did not hurt, more than it was there suddenly and the sensation was a little uncomfortable. It was like her heart had heard the news about the day and decided to start racing in preparation for a fight that was nowhere near, it was the same sensation as when she had held Bakuda aloft in that basement. Now her body was training itself to anticipate conflict as well? Or was this just psychosomatic?

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

Think about something nice and calming... the motion of the van was too smooth, the distant rumble of the engine... 

They were going for sushi tonight; her father was not overly keen, but apparently the city had a rather good restaurant founded by a refugee of Kyushu. She was rather looking forward to it, and Emma was strangely excited to try something called Takoyaki and dango, she had seen a video about Japanese street food a few nights ago and had been talking about it since. Yeah, that would be nice...

The heat in her heart was starting to fade away now.

"Are you alright, Ordinant?"

It was Coleson speaking, looking over at her from where he was seated a seat away. He had been looking over the paperwork for the day, a neat little stapled dossier, prepared by the local PRT branch and handed over upon their arrival. It was all standard procedure at this point, normally Coleson would take care of all that and give her any pertinent details like the victim’s name alongside the 'estimated risk' and 'difficulty of the situation', a veiled way to put 'chance of triggering' and 'mental state'.

"Yeah, just a little bit of heartburn," she explained.

"I'll get some tablets delivered," swift as that the man was on his phone, no doubt organising it. Hell, if the traffic remained this slow, there might be a box of tablets waiting for them upon their arrival.

"It's okay, really... I probably just ate fast, or the news got to me."

The man's lip quirked in a grim manner.

"Ah, you've seen that as well, then?"

"Yeah... who'd you think leaked it?" 

"No idea, could be plenty of people," he leaned back in his chair. "After Bakuda's rampage it could be the ABB trying to destabilise and regain some ground they've lost, but it does not seem like Lung's typical M.O, more calculated than that," he said, removing the sunglasses from his face and bringing a hand to his chin, tapping it in thought. "Wouldn't surprise me if It's somebody looking to move into the Bay, or it could be a lot more simple than that and just be some disgruntled member of the Empire whose gotten sick of it all and wants to burn it down on the way out."

She hadn't thought about that. But Humans could be so very petty and vindictive, it would actually fit. 

"That would be interesting, one person bringing down an entire gang..."

"It probably won't bring them down, but it will certainly make things rocky, they might have to fully go to ground, and seeing how their leader was apparently Max Ander's..." he trailed off. 

"More trouble in the Bay."

"No doubt, perhaps it is for the best that we are out of it for the weekend."

To that she said nothing, instead resting her head against the reinforced glass of the window, her visor tapping against it as she stared out at the world beyond this small metal and glass capsule. There was a family about to cross the road, waiting patiently for the lights, the father was hoisting his daughter up by the arm to keep her entertained, and judging by her expression, it was working. A man, built like a freight train merged with Hulk Hogan, was walking a tiny dog in a comical juxtaposition. Across the road a gang of kids were walked around trying to look menacing even as they pointedly straightened up as they passed a cop car.

All whilst her home once more descended into chaos.

What a beautiful, strange world.

Ten more souls saved from loops today, they really managed to cram them in, three of them triggered.

The first could summon an ongoing rain of iron spikes in a one-metre area within eyesight, the larger the spikes the fewer would be created but the faster they would fall. It had been a little unnerving watching a torrent of needles suddenly come crashing down around the new trigger like some hellish form of acupuncture, but fortunately nobody was hurt.

The second, who had been burned alive for the last ten years, was a Breaker who could turn transform into liquid gasoline, never burning away, but not suffering the pain any more... that one had been... difficult to handle, the person promptly had a panic attack. 

But Taylor's favourite experience of the day had been from the final of the trio to trigger, a young man who could influence gravity within a wide area around them, simple, but effective.

She had rather enjoyed floating through the air, cartwheeling slowly about in the ten or so seconds before the young man had managed to get the effect under control. She could have cancelled the effect with ease... actually, a few people did call for her to do so, but it was rather fun to just enjoy the opportunity. It was the closest she would ever get to being in space, and it brought a strange sense of comfort... to not be tied down to the ground, to an Earth so filled with problems and strife.

For just a few seconds, as she floated, she felt a strange sense of absolute serenity.

So many applications, so many possibilities to distract herself with...

Each fascinating to consider.

That night, she had a dream she could remember when she woke up, of floating in the void of space as she was serenaded by the distant, soft rustling of solar winds.

It was the last day of loop breaking, and she was largely running on adrenaline and sugar by now. The constant moving and living out of a suitcase was wearying, but something she had simply hadto get used to by now, saving those poor bastards trapped by Gray Boy came first, and hey, the experiences outside of the loop-breaking was fun, right? 

Spending time with Emma and her father, seeing places outside the Bay even as her home crumbled and collapsed.

She had to find positives!

Anything to keep going, beyond her own refusal to stop.

It was a noble purpose, saving others from hell.

Gray Boy had a rather vivid imagination when it came to inflicting pain on others.

She hoped that he suffered even a tenth what he had inflicted when he was killed.

Was that a bad thing for her to admit? If she were to say that about others, then she would be seen as deranged, but it was okay to admit such a thing about a Parahuman who committed those sorts of atrocities, right? If she were to meet Gray Boy, alive right now, it would be fine to brutalise him to within an inch of his life, it would be okay to kill him there and then, right?

With the flexibility of human morals, she was mostly putting the matter aside as an acceptable stance to take.

She took off her helmet and visor, shaking out her hair, which fell lank and greasy after so long contained within the confines of its protective shell. 

Gross.

She would have a nice long shower when she got back to the hotel, that much was for certain! It was a downside of her outfit for sure, she dreaded to imagine just how warm some of the others must get in theirs... but then again, most of her fellow Wards kept their hair short. 

She changed swiftly enough back into civvies, and made her way to the hotel. Really, she should be staying at Headquarters, but her father and Emma were not allowed to do so, and she would much rather be with them. They were flying out in just a few hours anyway, might as well all be together to make sure everything was in order.

And yet, returning to the hotel room, Taylor found nothing but an oppressive mood. Emma was not around, her father sat at the hotel desk in front of the mirror as he glowered at his own reflection. A piece of paper with some scribbled writing was in front of him, brief notes, perhaps just vented thoughts? His writing, never neat, was a mess that she could not decipher. 

"Dad?"

"Hey Taylor."

"... What's wrong? Where's Emma?"

"She went to go for a swim in the pool, but that's not the matter." He paused, and she waited expectantly. What had happened to get him like this? "Purity hit the Association."

Oh, the situation back in the Bay. Perhaps fortunately, work had kept her distracted, but of course Emma and her father had kept her updated whenever they were together.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, it was mostly empty..."

Mostly empty.

Casualties.

Human beings dead. Human beings with families like hers.

For a moment, Taylor blinked as the information washed over her. The Association, her dads work place. Where all his friends were. A community that he belonged to, the only community beyond their family and Brockton bay that he had left. The thing he fought so hard for, he would be devastated---no, she could see the evidence of that on his face. He looked drawn, so many people slowly being crushed under the inevitable weight of stress around them.

She reached out and hugged him.

"It'll be alright, dad."

The long silence after she said that hurt the longer it went on.

"Of course it will, Taylor."

He was lying for her own good. It was like after her mother died, he told a lot of little white lies in that time to make sure that she would be okay. But she had picked up on it, she had seen the truth behind it all, Taylor had gotten so used to human beings lying to her, telling her things in an attempt to give her consolation and hope that she was used to it, she hated it. But lies kept the world together and running, it was the way of the world. 

She disliked it less than the notion of luck, that much was for certain.

"We'll bring her in, I promise."

This time there was no comment to be safe, or perhaps he was too distracted to say it, to repeat it by rote.

"... I hope so, I hope they throw the fucking book at her."

So did she. The entire Empire, all of them, had infected the city for long enough. But historically, they would get away, they always did, everyone always did. It took more brutal methods to secure a Cape prisoner.

Like with Bakuda.

A cold apathy settled over her as she thought about the Empire. Life really had a way of lining them up, didn't it? It was like the world was mocking her, or trying to throw as much trouble as it possibly could her way. Her power would be thankful for it, no doubt, the opportunity to experience more power effects.

That night, as they returned to Brockton Bay on a short flight, her brain turned over dozens of ideas, recalling small details and facts she knew about members of the Empire, simulating a thousand scenarios if she were to have to try and bring any one of them in. 

The only distractions were the necessities of travel and Emma's constant chatter and attempts to draw her from her reverie.

Ĕ͔̩͉͕̣̺ͅn̟̘̻͔͂̂ͫg̠̯̭̘ͮͦa̤̤̱̳̓͑̈ͭg̬̜̭̤͐̓̓̍͛ͨ̚ï̹͚̟͙͇̖n̬̦͎̮̗ͭg̟͒̓͆̽̃͋ ̯ͯ̽̅P̺͕̞̳̍̓ȧ͚̟̗̭̝͕̩ͮ͊r͇̞̳̻̦̓̿͊̚a̞͉̺̝̺͈̐̿̅ͭͭď̻̏ͩ̂̈́ḯ̯̦̟͔͛͗g̯͇̹̋̒m͕̼͖̑̅̽̑̈́͑ ̺̻͒ͨI̯ͤ͆̈́͒ͤ̽ͦn̲̣̄f̘̥ͧ͂̿̅̈͋̅l̮̥̦̀̅ͯ̉̏a̠̦͓͓̪ͥͭ̔t̹͍̬͌̇i̬͓̗͚ͧ̿ͩo̥̫͕͚͓̜̘ͧ̑̏ͬ̿̔̽ṉ͖ͦ̾.̬̮̥̾̈̌̅̽ͧ ̺̩̼̭͉̓ͤ͗̚Ã̘͕̏̔ͯn̠ͪa͇̬͕̘͈̍ͭ͊͛̆l̻̗̦͈̳͂̓̑̌ͮy͚̬͖̯̙̟̺ͫ͋̾͋̐s̻̞̄ͫ͗̔i̼͎̤ͩs̲͔̺̥̯̺ͤ̉̑͛͒͗ͧ:͖͍͚̱̾ͅ ͖̮̖̤̣̄͐̌̓̂̽S̺͈ͧ͆͊̌͌̉̊p̙̘̭̔ͪ͊̔͒o̥͍̳̔̂̓̔ͫn̮ͫ̆t̪̣̥͓̰̮̘̐ǎ̫̯͖̤̠̤͂ͮí̖͎̗̥̜͔n̜̯̥̈͊̔e͓͚̩̩̥ͪͨ̃̏̿̚ō̲̻̠̹̦͕ͨ̎u̦̻̟͍ͭ̄͆̉ͅs̮̪͎̭̬͈͒͑̽ͣ̈́̈́ ̮̲̠̓̃ͭͪͬ̂g̣̗ͣͨ̾e͋ͅn̥͈̩͙̐̈̎e̩̺̳̤͂̒ŕ̲̪͍̫a̠̋͆̍̍t͚̲͕̆ͥͤͯͩ̓ī̹̙͈ọ̞̹̓ͫ́ͪṅ̻̯̫̔̽͆ ͕͚̪̝̦ͮͩͫ̋ȫ͙̔̄ͤ͛f̱̩̐̽̉ͅ ̹̏͆ͯ̉̆ͫ̚f̘̭͓̞͈̂̄̓ͧ͗e͉̬̱̠͒ͪͫͪ͒̾r̼͋̃͆r̟͈̠͙̦̙̎o̱̤̟̯̽͋ͬͨ̿ͧ̌u̜͉ͤ͆ͣ͑s̖̯͈̝̖̈ͬ͛ͯͬ̃͑ ̻̜͎ͧͪ͋͑̍̓ͧs̻̠̯͔ͪͫ̅͗͋p̪͕̮͍̦͋͗̔͂i̼̬̥͓ͯk̩̎e̞̯̩̗̦͔̐̃̾̐̑ͦs͇͔͚̦̳ͪ̿ͬ̃̓̽ͅ ͙̼̱ͩ̂̓͂̚ͅl͔̹͒ͥ̓̔̑͗i̼̭͚̲ͩ͑ͭͪ̽m̭̱̱̪̰̓̈́ͭ̑̎̃̀i̪̬ͤ̿̍̿ͦͅͅt̩͆ͧ̄ͦ̿ẹ̮̻̬̍͗̀͑ͅd̲͋͗ͦͤ̾ ̙̅ͮ̾t̺̗̜͇̥̥̍̏̉o͇̱͗̓̾̑̓ͧ̚ ̳̻͙̬̘̟̇ͮ͋a͔ͨ ̪̫ͦͬ̆͊ͯ̎o͇̞̫̮͔̞̠͊n̩̊͆ͪ͌̌ͧͅͅe̥̾ͥ ̻̮̯̤͊̔̄̓͐ͪ̚m̦̓̐͊͑ĕ̫͖̣̗̇ͥͤͭ̑t̜̤̻̞̹͆͊ͩ̑ͪ̋r̘͔̤̭͖͚̾́ͮ̾e͙̱͔̩̭͈͇͆̅̑ ̺̞̮̰̜͙̰͋̆̎͋̒͋s̪̅ͩͪͨ̒ͯͅq͈̺̼͕̪͚̭̍̊̉̓͂ṷ̦̲̏̋̈́̈́ͦǎ̖̥̹̤̤r̙̯̩͎͊ͨͭͬ͋e̝̼̫̒ͨd͔̹̲̟͖̓ ̭̜̣͇̳̰̺͗̎ͥ͂͑ậ̑̃́̿̈́ŕ̞͈ͬͤ͋ͫͭ̃e͉̺̜ͭ͂́a̩̮̪͎͓̣̻ͨ̇͒͗ ̱̪̤̟̮̼̋ͪẉ͍̬̱ͯ͒̈́̒i̘̙͊̇t͙̬͉̥̱̺ͨ͊́͐́ͯͪḣ͔̗̤͑̉́i̩͔̗̪͇̗̝͆̏ͬ̇n̞̖̘̒ͧͭͮ ̟̝͆ͬ̑o̟̤ͬ̐r̩͗̽͂̒̿ͫ͒ä̬̘͍c͙̰͇̿̇͆̏̀̃ű̗̭ͪl̥̮̞̼̺̬ͪ̊͗̅a̮͎̠͐͑r̪͖̠̭̳ͨ͛ ̤̥̽̑̒ͪ̒̚ͅr̯͍̭͙ͦͭ́͆̓̈́ͭa̘̳̞̘͈͓̟̒̂ͨǹ̠g̤̟̠̤̗̈ͩ̉́̂e̯͙͍̓ͣ̂̑.͉ͦ̾ ͎͔̻̯̰̤̫̾ͯ̐ͦͩ̾

C͖͍ͣͭ̿͒̓̚ä̤̫̫͚̦́̾̒͗̎ͦ͆p͖̭͈̳̬̒͆̊ͅả͖͕͇̥͉ͅc̤̱̠̘̙͚̳͊ͣ̽͌̈́ͪ̚i̗ͯ̄ͪt̖̬͍͒̏̑ͦ̊ͭy͕ͨͩͦ ͉͚̗͛̿ͣ̅ͨ͑̐t̖̃̋ͥͭo̭͈̥͍̬̦͖ͣ̓͗ͨ ͇̬͖̘̝͈ͮ̑l̺̻̘̦̘̦̱̍ͮi͍̪̥̅ͤ͋̆̄ͧͧm̻͕͖̫̄͊ͦ̌̔̿͛i͚̖̍͛̌͛͂̅t̻͇̹̟̬͉̝̅ ̹ͬͅn̖̎͑ͪ̊̋̑̿u̻͇̪͇͉ͮ͑̄̂̆͌m͉͚̽b̲͛ͫ̄̎̌ͦe̲͒ͩ͐ͮ̑̄r̥͙̓̈́̑̓ ͙̤̪̙̓o̦͓̱̞͍̬ͥͩ̌f̩̬͚̬̥̺̠̀̇͊ͮͤ ̭̿ͤͩ͆ș̮͉̱̰̰̘̈p̳͖̭̖̖̿ͩi͕͇̮͉̳ͪ͗͗̀̈k͍̝̙̘̖ͥ́e̘ͥͤ̈́̓s̻͎̈ ̳ͪ̀t̤̲̘̺̰̙͇̅͗͋͂̿͌o̰̺̿͐͛ͪͤ̀ ̼̩̠͗ͮ̅̀̇̀́i̥̰̯̻͋̿ͩ͌ͬǹ̫̍c̲̱̔͂͌̆̀͗r̪̝͚͒ͧͦ̉̂ĕ͖͎̫̞͇͕̾̒͐̄̆̃a̯̠͇̞ͤs̜͇͎͕̞̻ͮ͌̾ͯͬ̏e̲̞̘̱̤̥ͩ͋͛̾ͯ ̞͂ͪͦ̄͆̚m͈̐ͩͮ͊ͨ̅a̩̘̣̳̪͕̋s̮̭̲͉͉ͭs̟̖̩͂ ̺̱̪͎̳̒ͣa͎͑n̯̑̔ḋ̩͍͓̞̝̫̝͌ ̱̣̞̪̩̪̽̆̐̏͂̈́v̼͍͍͍̝͚̍̆̋ͣ̚e̠̞̽ͣ͌̅l̙̺̘̝ͧͯ̏ͤ̇̆̚o̟̺̓̆ͮ̈́c̗̃ͧ̚i̙̿̿̔t̞̳̙̺̙̮̒ͬ̓̒ỳ̥̬̙̯̬̙̃̐̓ͫ̆̑ ̫͍̝͇̀ͤ͒o͉̹͊̓͊̔ͦ̏ͩf͉̼̝͑ͩͦ ͚̖̯̦͎͖͕ͤ̌g̻͇̦̮̈̑̎e̠͈̐̂ͥ̍n͉̖̩̿͑ͭ̐̐̇e̖̦̹͌̄̅ͮ̏͋̏r̻̮͕̻͍ͣ̓̿a̦̼̐̎͛̃̌͌̚t̫͙̣̤̍̒̒e̺̥̥̋ͅḍ̩ͬ ̰̭͉͔͛̋͆ͅm̠̱̖̣̿͌ͫ̉̈́ͥa̰̜̟͔̮̱̍͗̐͑̓͂t̺͚̊̔̍̽ͫe̱͕͎̤͙͑ͪ̂ͮr̲̖͓̟̮̟̄̈͐̉̾̓̇i̻͉͔̲ͧ̄ͨ͑a̠̫̣̥̔ľ̫͓.̬̱̹̗̊ͨͫ̋̚ͅ ̗͉̹̪̹̇ͪ̏͒̚

(Engaging Paradigm Inflation. Analysis: Spontaineous generation of ferrous spikes limited to a one metre squared area within oracular range. Capacity to limit number of spikes to increase mass and velocity of generated material)

̲͍̺̩̓͋ͪͭ́͊̚E͙̱̥̬̜̐n̰̭̠͈͙̰ͩ̈́̀̎̀ͅg͙̖̮̼̫͓̿̎͒ͯ̔ͥ͗a̪̙̜̗̲̮ͮ͛͊g̭͈͇ͥ̏̽̍̇i̮̦͉ͦ̑̈ͣ̏ṇ͛̀g͙̞̥͔͙̒͑̈ͨ ̭̖̖̞ͥP̯̰͕̣̘̪͎̿͊ͭ̐̈́͌ā̙͚͈̫r͉̝̻͓͍̖͕̂̏ả̦̱̞ͭ̒̇d̥̃͐̀ͣͨī̘̲͓ͧ̔g̼̳͔̠̮̭̰͂m̝͓͕̰͇͚̺͊͆͋̓ ͙̲͉͚͇͔̬ͣ̍ͧ͑I̮̜̹̹̮͉͔̊̅ͨ̈́̚n̗̗̩̟̦̙͋ͥ̌ͬ͊ͧͅf͈̯̊̒ͮͫ̍̒̄l͍̹̞̺̩̓͊ͣ̐̇͆ͮͅa̘͇̼͋ͧͭͧͥ͂͋t͇̙͎͓̤̞̏̏͂ͧ͐̌ͧï̙̤̭̼ͦ͑̏o̞̖̜̹̫͓̾̿̽̔̿ͮn͎̼̫̰̈̔.̙͂̎̇̾́ ̙̖͓̹̤̞̘͑̅Ȃ̜̟͈̞n̞̻̳͚̩͛̓̒̉a̯̼͇ͬͨl͙͇̗͉̤ͣ̿ͯͥ̃y͔͉͉̋ͪ̍͛͆̋s͇̬̓͒̈ͪi͖̱̭̗̥̙̤͐̃̔ͧ̑̄ͧs̝̯̝̗͉̆̂ͦ̌͊͛:̲͙͎̿̍̆ ̣͉͙̤ͬ̾͐C̦̭̬̲̒̃ò͇ͪ͌̒ͤ̓n̩̬͈̼̜̈ͩ͗v͉̪̦͍̉ͫ̀ͧ͛e̠̖̪͉̩͇̥̓ͬ̚r͔͙̙̩̫̮̊͑ͅs̪͎̺̱̦̏̑̋̚i̺͚̼̋͒̏ͯ͂͛̚o̲̯̠̰̪ͭ̊ͣ͑n͚̲͓̮͕̉̿ͥ̾ͅͅ ͖̬͇̬̩̥̺̐̒͂ͣ̎̓͆ö͉̣̫͍̣̙̹ͯͣ̾ͯ̆̄f̻̪ͫ̈ ̥̮̞̅̓o̖͎̠̍̈́r̩̥̹̘̳̻͈ͫͪ̅ͪ̐g͇ͣ̈ͧa̝̯͕͎ͥ̓͋̀̏̿ͅn̼̏̔͂ͅi͙̮̰̾ͪ̓͛̐c͎͍͙͔̹̳͑̐͐͐ͪ ̜̤͔̻̙͋ͪͩͦͥ͆ͅm̪͉̦͕̬͔ͯa͍̙͎̬̗̅̍̈̓t͈̹́͑̅͌t͙̭̙͔ͭ̅͑̒e̲̞̺̗̭͉͚̋͋̌͑r̤͙̆ͤ ̤̰̞̎̽ͤͭ̇̒͋ĩ̝̳́̏͊n̤͚̣̟̫ͬ̈́ͅt̜̝͋̾ͭ̑̐o͔ͯͭͫ͂ͅ ̞͇̙͓̦̫̌̾̇ͥi̖̫͑͌͛̋̈́͑m̲̭̔̉ͯf̰͗ͪͅl̖̱̗̹̺̻̟̎ͯ̍a̱̾̔ͫm͎͔̯͔ͩͦ̆͒͒m̙͔̏̿͛ḁ͓̗̬͆̃ͤͅb̯̳ͧ͋̂l͍͈͚̲̻̱̽̓͛̽̚e̻͔͍̜̓͛͛ ͚̓̐ͅh̤͓̥̱͊̀y̗̬ͤͩd̹̭̱̜̭̘̭͒ͤr͈̰̘͖̳̬̗͗͌o͙̖̼ͯ̋ͨͭ͛c͕̟̆̀a͓͍ͦr̭̪̤͔̞̂̏͊͑͐̅͌b̘̩̗̠̪̹̼̃͗ͪͫ͆o̗̤ͭn͓̪̠̺ͪ̓͋̈s̟͐ͅͅ.̹̼͉̩̣͈̘͆͂͒̀̊̌ ͚̣̽F̙͍̟̐́̈́̉ͨ̄o̳̘͍̣̫͓ͯͪ̎ř̄ͭ̌ͫͅm̹͚̮̙̰̪̅ͨ̿̆̂ͨ̚ ̲̤̭͌ͥ͑ͤ͊ͧ̃m̞̠͑̂̋̓̐a̤̟̯̺͖̻͕̔ͣi͔͖̯̰̦ͤ̒ṉ̤͇̮̞̒ͨt̥͓͓͉̽̍ͨ̑̆ã̼̩͉͈̣͚͋͛i͙͓̥͇͕͓͓ͣͬ̅͑n͙̼̩̮̲͕͐́̽͊̃͊s̜ͣͮ̓ͥ̊́ͅ ͚̗̪̱̖͎ͪh̘ͦ͌u̮̳̪̳̠̍ͦͣͭ̋̿ͅm͚̫̼̣̿ͅa̜̝͇͇ͤ͂̓̈̄n̪̫͙̯̝͆̃ͮ͋͂̐o̼ͫ͋͒̽ͨi̖̠̳̊d͍̲̤ͥ̒͑ ̘̗̝̻̥͑͊̍ͬ͐ͬͥb͚̠̘̝͈̱̓̉ͦ͌̒ő͙̘̝͇ͪ̆ͣͨ̍̚d͎͖͆ͪͪ̃̀y̩̣̪̼̼̆ͅͅp̮͎̻̃̆͗l̙̿̿͂ͭ̆͋a̲ͩͨ̓̚n̩͎̭̽͊͑ͬ̿.͖̳̤ͭ̅ͥ

(Engaging Paradigm Inflation. Analysis: Conversion of organic matter into imflammable hydrocarbons. Form maintains humanoid bodyplan)

̯̂͂̾̾̏̊E͈ͥ͛ͫ̄ͮn͎ͤ͊͆͂ḡ̲̇̿a̗̪̬̘̦̽̾ͪ̈̃̀ͮg̲̰̝͌͌ͮ̈̽i̘͕̞͌ͧ̃̏ṇ͔̫̬̙̆ͩ̏ͥ̓g͍̑ ̦̖̇͂̓P͓̠̗̪ͥ̅ͧͣ̏͆a̠̱̖͂͌r̬̝͚̣̞̼̖ͥ̃ã̱̙͎̱͕͈̅ͦ̈́ͮͮd͕͕̬͓͚͈͖̓i̲̬̱̦ͧ̃̉̚g̼̩ͤ̍̇m̰̩̭̥͐͂̈́͑͋̌ ̗̘͙ͯͬͪȊ̖͎̤̮̯̜͔̉ͥ͑n͙̟̎̈͋ͬ̐f̫̗͖͉̃̑ͬͧl̠̩̟̰̼ͦ̽͋ͤ̅͋a̯̹̬̺ͦ͋͊ͮͅͅt͓̘̍͑̄i̺͔̮ͬ̓̓̄o̭͈͕̱̊n͚̳ͭͬ̌͊̎̏̓.̙̺̻̐ ̝͚̈Ḁ̟̈́ͥn̲͙̮͖̺͒͐ͮ̾͌a̭̫̼̦͒̽͋̄ͅl̻̺̞̺͇ͦ̑ỳ̟̳̤̎͛ͅs̥̬̪̯̞̲̮̅i̱̱͔͓̯̠͗ͅș̥̺̠̟ͫ̏̔͂:̰̦̦̒̅͛̀̉̍͋ ̯ͯͬͫ̅̊̍ͨL̦͚̗̹ͤ͋ͧͪͫoͥͩ̾ͩ͗ͨ̀ͅc͈̍͊ͭͧ̚ͅâ͖͉͎͙̳̩̗ͩͩͫ͂̈̇l̤̻̘̳͕̓ͥi̩̱̇̅̀͒͌ͪ͊s̪͚̬̫̲͈̠ͥ̎ë͍͚̭̬̰̤d̿̂̋̆̚̚ͅ ͈͆̃ͬ̓̇ͦc̥̬̤̫̰͛ͣ͗͐̌o̟̓ͦͬ̎͑ṉ̘̃̐̂̍̒͐ͅṱ̞̻͓̚ͅr̯͉̰̈́ŏ̥̭͓̣͕͐ͮ́̇l͕̗͑͋̒̆ ͈͇̜̺̘̣͔̈ͮͤ̈́o̤͚͈̙̞̯ͫ͂̍ͣͅf̜̬̙̤̼͂̈̾ͭ̎ͫ ̬̠̠̈́́̔̇̑͒ͭg̩͚̝̣̣ͪ̒ͅr̲͕̍̿ḁ̱͉̈ͦv̻̻̰̐i͉̪̳̼ͤt̗͖ͥ͋̌y͙͈̺̼̒̎̿͛̒,̱̜͔̦̦͌ͪ̿͛ͅ ͇̲̪̮̤̇̈̄o͈̲̒͂ͭͬ͑̑ͨb̲̩̖ͭ̃ͦͩ̍ͯͣṣ̹͕̥̰͙̈ͫͅe̗̯̿̔͌r̻̝̝ͯ̓͊ͪͯͅv̻͉̠͚̏ͅe͖͍̮̖̒ͧ̀̌̎̊ͪḓ̱̺̻̐̎ͯ ̤̞̀͒ḙ͌f̝̻̭͍̩̩ͣͭ̾́ͦͤͅf͉̩̙̮̫̗̝ͩ̓̋e̯̝̳ͧͤ͛c̳͕͕̓͊̽̃̏̊̓t͔̳̘̬̗̱̞ͨͨ͌͛̊ͣ;̪̅̂ ̗͎͑̾ͭ̈̎r̳̟̓͌e̟̗̳͉̩ͬ̇ͦ͋͛m̥̔͋̋͆͛ͦ͌o̝̹̥̓́̾̍v̲͍͕͛͋ͤͮ̈́̂̉a̗̮̖̪̲̘͐̓̈́ͥ̾ͬ̌l͔̘̦̊̅̽̅ ̳̤̽̓̇͛̇̃ȏ̦̝͇͍̯̝̓̆̄̚ͅf̲͊͛ͥͧͤ ̭͉̩̜̩̮̇̐͗ͭͮͭg͙ͩͣͣr͍̻͙̩͛ả̙̎v̘̤̣̀̚i̪̬̙ͮͣ̇ͫt̺̮̭̱̳͈̪͌̄ͬ͆ͥ̾ẙ͙̬̫̭̖̭.͖̼̝̠̳̭̅͊̽̒ͬ͗ ͈͉̻̮͐I̺̭͓ͮn̞͚̝̟̦̼͔̎ͪ̑̈̑̑͊t̮̠͎͖͇͚̞ͭ̈ȅ̘̮̦̍͐̂ͧ͑r͕̪̖͍̭̣̐ͩ̆̏́̀͊p̩̯͚̘̖̽ͪͥͯ̽o͍͈͖͙͔̓̐ͧͫ̔l̗̩̝̟̄͋ā̙̜̣̝̐ͨṱ͍͎͇̰͉̳̿ͣͮ̾͒̊̈́i̮̱͚̮̬͊ͧ̅ͩ̇͐̚n̟̘͐ͥ͒ͅͅg̗ͩ̓̈́̃ͮ̎ ̳͗c͚͙͐̊̆̇a̤̩̲͌p̱̫̥̙ͪ̔̂̊͒a̩͙̳͕ͧ͆͒̾ͅc͓͎̼͉̽̆̾̑i͍̦͎̙̜ͧ̏t̺̒̌̾̽̓ͭy̼͍͚͈͚̹̳̅ͤ̄̊ ̮̈́ͤ̿ͩ̈ͬ͂t̺̮͖͓͎̘́̉̊̌͗̎ͭȍ̘̱̪̳̝̯̏ ̩̥̰͔̂ͨ͋ͮͧȋ͓̘͓͉n͇͇͕͋͊͑̇̍̇c͕̣͙̙͕̖ͣͬr͇͍̰̞̙̃̑ͣ̅͋̏ͅe͖̠̻̙͇̝͑̒ä̪̀̐̐ͦ̌̿s̮̠̫͗̂̈́̃e̦̟̣̤͔͍̥͑ ͍̻̦͓̾̄͋̈l̰͆̉̓̔̀̐͒ǒ͇̬̜ͫ̔͂̉c̳ͪ̃̅a̠̻̭ͦ́̇l̰̯̲̟ͨ̽i̫̦̥͕̓s̬̫͗ͥ́̀e̙̱͇̓͌ͮ̂d̦̹̤̊́̇ͮ̂̍ ̥̖̯̩͙̥ͫ̉ͦͥ̃̋̚g̯͒̃ͨ̆͌r̼̉a͚̞̥̠̞̦͆͐v̖̹̱̑̔̓i͔̝̲̳͈̞̽͊ͧ̚ẗ͇̝̬̪̎͋̚ỵͭ̽̿̐́.͕̗̞̑͑̆̄̾̚

(Engaging Paradigm Inflation. Analysis: Localised control of gravity, observed effect; removal of gravity. Interpolating capacity to increase localised gravity)

Chapter Text

Just as she had predicted, they returned to a Brockton Bay in chaos.

How was it that the strictly regimented trips out of Brockton Bay to free torture victims of one of the USA's most feared Capes were less chaotic than returning to her god-damn home!

There was a word Taylor wanted to use right now to describe all of this, and it sounded vaguely like cluster-truck.

She watched from over the top of her book as Carlos looked over a map of the city, with hotspots of activity plotted. No patrols today, it was too volatile, and yet still, she was at headquarters in case.

In case of what?

In case suddenly all went to shit? In case it all went to shit within the four-hour period in which the Ward's were all available? Instead of trying to analyse and deduce the logic behind the situation she could not change, she returned to reading her book, Pride and Prejudice.

She was not really enjoying it, but it was one of many books she had seen her mother reading and teaching about when she was a little girl, and one that she had always meant to read herself. The well-worn copy still smelled strongly of new paper, despite the creases and marks in its broken spine, the slightly tatty corner of the cover and the little notes here and there in her mother’s neat hand.

... Mum started out hating Mr. Darcy, and that hatred did not diminish fast.

Despite her detached serenity, it brought a slightly sad smile to her lips.

"How are you so calm, Ordinant?"

It was Dennis who addressed her. He sat with his elbows on his knees, for once, not making an irritant of himself. Without his mask, he was rather cute, but she had put aside those notions a long time ago.

"I mean, what else can I be? If I am not being deployed, then I can hardly worry about it, the moment I am then I'll have time to," she said with a shrug.

"That's... kind of an odd way to think about it, Taylor."

"Every moment of my life is precious to me; I might as well enjoy it before we're sent out."

A lie, she worried about her father, but she was hiding it. His workplace had been destroyed so he was staying at home, even if the Union was still standing, there would be no point risking going somewhere contested like the docks, especially when tensions were so high and open conflict was not even daily, but hourly. 

"They're not going to be deploying us lightly."

Carlos spoke, and it came out far more like a barked order than anything consoling.

A deafening silence followed, one of those silences in which everyone is thinking something, but nobody says it.

She turned a page.

"Of course not, the PRT would never deploy fully one-half of their Parahuman talent when facing a state of open warfare against a gang of racial supremacists with their backs up against the wall," she said. Across the room, Shadow Stalker grunted in agreement of her statement.

All forms of life, from the smallest shrew to the mightiest lion, was capable of truly hideous violence in the name of self-defence. Anybody who had ever tried to bring in a stray cat and had it cornered knew that, and Humans were worse because they had technology and the ability to think 'I am taking you with me', somebody with nothing to lose and a knife can be a far more terrifying than one who had everything in the palm of their hand.

Hell, she had discovered such herself.

No, they would all be called upon soon in some capacity.

Vista was too valuable for battlefield control, Aegis was too durable, Clockblocker invaluable in trapping and securing a threat. Honestly, the Brockton Bay Wards had incredible potential if they were used right, it was just a case of proper utilisation.

And her?

Well, there were Shakers in the E88. Her niche power could contribute, and in doing so, she would be thrust once more into the thick of it.

Plus... she still had a few things to settle with Rune.

God, that incident had been so long ago... just thinking about it made her recall the feeling of the concrete impacting her leg, and her first-ever interaction with Assault and Battery.

A morbid part of her wondered just how her power would interact with a few of them... Kaiser, for instance, was his a Shaker power? Could she bring down one of the most feared Capes in the Bay all by herself? Now that would be quite the achievement. Her heart skipped a beat and felt warm just thinking about it, about the experience and acclaim she could gain from it; it would go on her memorial.

"... Ordinant, mind coming with me?" she frowned as she looked back up from her book at Carlos, who was already floating up onto his feet.

Aegis wanted to speak with her? She carefully placed back her page marker, getting up and setting it on the arm of the sofa as the Brute indicated for her to follow him. What was this about? It wasn't like him, normally whenever he wanted to speak to her, he would just do so in the public space. He did not just lead her out of the room, but out into the hallway beyond and down a good distance as well.

When he did turn around, he had an utterly serious expression. 

"Listen Taylor, I know things are rough," he began, looking at her straight in the eye. "But the others have been on high alert for days now, a few folks have had family with a close brush with the trouble, so try to keep the snark back, alright? You can do it around me, but not around them, alright?"

She found herself staring back, unblinking.

Between how long she spent away from the others, it was sometimes difficult to remember that the other teenager was the leader of the Wards. Even if she had a few problems with the approach that the Director and the Protectorate members took, Carlos was her most immediate superior.

"... Yeah, sorry, I wasn't thinking," she said, and found herself meaning it. 

"It's fine, everyone handles the pressure differently, be nice to Dennis, he's been trying to keep our spirits up even if he's missed the mark a few times," Aegis said. 

"... Alright, chief," now that got a small smile back and a clap on the shoulder.

They returned to a room, once more descended into that anxious tension that had predominated in the last few hours. 

She retook her seat, brought up her book and continued reading, only speaking up when the tension became just a bit too heavy. 

Perhaps she could lighten the mood a little?

People liked to discuss the familiar, the safe, right?

"... How's Glory Girl, Dean?" she asked, by way of conversation, as the atmosphere of the room once more descended into that anxious tension that had predominated in the last few hours since her arrival. They were together, right? An easy, safe topic of a relationship, and somebody adjacent enough to their work that it would not be too out there of a thing to ask.

"Fine. She's fine, why do you ask?" the answer was all a bit too rapid, as if he was expecting her to say something. 

Dean looked as if he had not been eating or sleeping too well, another factor that added to the strained atmosphere. She knew for certain that he had been taken to one side by most of the others in turn to ask whether he was okay, Vista had admitted such to her as she glanced at him, worried, just an hour ago.

Taylor had not done so; she had not been around for the last few days, after all.

Even now, he was looking her way, hair messy and eyes just a little too wide, as if he had at once been shocked into life from the exhausted near sleep he had been in before.

"Just curious, you know, I am always kind of surprised that we don't work more with New Wave."

"Aha," it was a hollow sound, wait, after a moment of analysis she picked up a bit of relief in his exhalation? "Well, she is busy, actually, sometimes I am kind of glad that we don't work with New Wave too much, it keeps my girlfriend away from all of you," it was an attempt at humour, he even gave Dennis a little elbow, and correspondingly the jokester took the opportunity for a melodramatic and over the top reaction. 

One that served to lift the mood, if only for a second.

And yet even as he did so, Dean's eyes flicked for a moment to a space over her head before returning to maintaining eye contact with her.

She stared for a few seconds longer than perhaps necessary.

Dean twitched.

She was just trying to help, but perhaps it was the wrong thing to do in this case? She returned to her book.

She hoped Dean felt better soon, perhaps he just did not respond to stress as well as she thought? Or perhaps it was the way things were happening, one after another, building up, crushing spirits and the hope that things would improve, whilst her own hopes for a grand future had been discarded long ago. 

There were only short-term pleasures in her life, and each was infinitely valuable.

Waiting.

Tortuous waiting.

She hated waiting. Days of waiting in which she did nothing but think, and ponder and sit, going through a facsimile of normality, going to school, home and the PRT headquarters, 

That first day she had been unkind, as the long malaise of waiting settled on them. Waiting for the opportunity, waiting to be called, waiting with bated breath for the opportunity. 

Every second she was here she could be doing something better, could be saving somebody from a looping hell, and here she was, rotting away. Her shoulder ached, as did the top of her legs, as if the crystal was pointing out her inactivity. It was mocking her, reminding her that even as she sat here the ticking clock was moving ever steadily along, that she was not distracting herself with being useful.

How did other people remain so patient, how did they sit in their nests for days, months, years, decades even!? 

The others had gotten even worse as well.

Kid Win had been halfway through stress building a miniature particle accelerator before it had been confiscated, Dean and Shadow Stalker had been brutalising the punching bags in the PRT gym with such energy that Taylor rather wondered whether they could hit harder than her now.

Vista was sat beside her, the younger Ward was distracting herself with a torrent of cute cat videos from the internet, incessantly showing them to Taylor. By the fifteenth time she had seen an owner pick up a chubby kitten to show the camera, the mother cat in the background glowering at the impertinence of the action, Taylor had gotten rather bored of it, but humoured her colleague, everyone needed a distraction.

It was better than nothing, definitely better than the news. 

Ongoing skirmishes, practically open warfare.

Whoever released the information about the Empire was certainly getting their money's worth if they wanted Cape drama, not a day went by now without something happening in the streets of Brockton Bay, and the city was suffering for it. The loss of stability in Medhall, the reduction of what tourism there was were enough to deal a blow, but the property damage was only escalating as well, as was national attention to the situation.

Would they end up in a quarantine zone if the gang war kept going and escalating?

Just yesterday Dauntless and Velocity almost managed to pin down Purity, they were the only ones able to keep up with her speed wise. It had been an ambush, with Dauntless coming down out of the sun like a falcon, knocking Purity down and almost bringing her to the ground. If Velocity had been in place a few seconds earlier, had Purity not gotten her descent under control... Those two had been so close.

More's the pity.

Dauntless should have put his lance through her chest.

It was a vindictive thing to think, but when it came to the Empire, she did not care, she had removed the capacity to do so from her mentality.

How long would it be before outside agencies were forced to intervene?

Time was so limited.

And here she was waiting, waiting for---

Ẽ͈s̗͚͐t̗̙ͪ̒î̺̳ͫm̦ͪa̙ͭ̋ṱ̊ͅe̮ͭd̘̳̒ ͓ͫt̼̞͌ī͙̺̇ḿ̘̼ê̟ ̼̇u̲͖͒n̟̫ͬ͌ṱ̗ͪ̀i͙ͦ̈́l̖̀ ̥̟͌̌D͇̎ȓ͉o̟ͩn͇̅ě̖̹̑ ̮̅͋r̯̍e̦ͥͭa̞̣͂d̟͑̈i̜̰ͬn̺̳̐̐e͚̲̍s͙̐̿s̲̭͗ ͔ͫͫf͍̋o̼͉͋́r̼͉ͣ ̬̽̉f͕̳̂û̘̪l̖̓ľ̪ ̲͇̑m̙ͯe͍̙͐t̪̞̾a̱̎m̯͈̒o̹̘̾ͯr̭̮̓ͦp̤̉ḧ̺̓o̞̰ͩs͓̈́̏i̤͕ͧs̪͌:̞̀ ̭̈́̃ͅ1̝̤̥̦̭̙̹͒ͭ͐1̞̯̪̣̳ͬ̎.̦̳̏͒4̣̀͂1͉̭͆͒7̬ͨͣ ̼̬͋̓t̹͍̓e̙͌ṙ̮̰r̟͍͊̇e̺̮͊̈́s̭͚̐̂t͕͙͑̿r͚ͦi̤ͭa̠̓l͕̳̔ ̪̰̓r̫ͮo̝̍ẗ̩͈ạ͇͗ṱ̠ͤ̈́i̞̒ỏ͖͗n̪̺̄s̹͌

(Estimated time until Drone readiness for full metamorphosis: 11.417 terrestrial rotations)

Shut up shut up s̞͆h̯̙̉ṷ̹̚t̺͐ͨ ̯ͧͩụ̈̉p̖̑̋͗͗ ͍̞͚͎̅̑̔s͎̩͒ḫ̑u̱͗̾t͍̤̜̠͛̒ ̤̱̬ͦǘ̬p͉ͣͤ͑ͥ̈ ̘͚ͬ̃̌̍̚s͇̮̮͒̿ͫ͌h͔̩̒̈́́u̞͉͍̳͈̩̣ͦ̍͑͑t̻̃̃͌͒̓̀̉ͮ ̬̣̠͚͔̲̩̌̇̉̒̇u̯͙̬̼͎̮̙̔̂͛̎̚ͅp̖̬͈̻̯̼̏̾͐̔̋͑̌ͬ---

...

...

...

What was she thinking about again?

"What did you think about that one?" Vista asked, looking back to her, drawing her focus away from the current video.

"Cute. I like the pudgy little one in the back that just rolled onto its back. It looks so helpless," Taylor replied, watching said kitten flop about like a seal on an ice floe.

Missy smiled. She looked as if she had not been sleeping well.

Waiting.

Killing time they did not have---

A siren, an alarm for masks on as each of their phones pinged at the same time. It was like a thunderbolt that shattered the malaise that had settled. Within a moment, she was standing, like a spring releasing its tension. 

Major engagements taking place across the city. All Wards prepare for deployment and further orders.

Chapter Text

Within a quarter of an hour they were suited, booted and out the door, rapidly heading out as commands came in through their ears.

"Priority targets for Ward members include unpowered members of the Empire, Alabaster, Othala, Rune, nobody is to attempt to engage Hookwolf, Purity or Krieg if they turn up, leave that to Protectorate members. Don't put yourselves at undue risk everyone, let the Protectorate handle the big hitters. We have engagements throughout the city right now---"

The voice on the other end was a PRT agent, a woman that sounded just a little like the Director, to Taylor's ears.

"Vista, keep everyone out of the way, if you can get Clockblocker into position to freeze one of the targets, do it, then foam them. Shadow Stalker, Kid Win, you two are on recon'."

There was little restraint at this point.

As for her---

"Ordinant, you're on comms and in case Rune turns up, the Empire will likely be relying on her for evac', we're counting on you to cancel her effects."

"Right!"

Made sense, she was a much more situational member of the Ward's in terms of power.

"Keep a low profile, all of you, Kid Win, get your drones up in the air, we want visuals over as much of the area as possible. If reinforcements are going to be coming in via Rune then the nearest Empire territory is to your west and will be moving across your path."

The van they were in came to a stop on a street that Taylor struggled to recognise at first, but soon enough had her orientation as Kid Win released a dozen little tinkertech drones, small little blob shaped things that shot up into the air rapidly and then began spreading out. The Tinker fiddled with buttons on a small console built into his arm, the viewpoints the drones feeding back to his visor.

They would wait in the van unless they were needed, the space was cramped, the air a little stuffy and stifling, but waiting outside would make it obvious that they were there... she had to wonder whether somebody would already have taken notice of the little drones being released.

And then... they waited.

There was no much conversation, nobody wanted to distract Chris from his work, and Taylor had to call in every few minutes with updates.

Beyond that, there was the limited amount of news feeding back from across the rest of the city;

An ongoing conflict between Stormtiger and Cricket, Assault and Battery, just four blocks away, and Hookwolf was attacking a police barricade, with Armsmaster, Dauntless and Miss Militia there to try and ward him off. She was not so sure what Armsmaster could do about the giant metallic Breaker, but you never knew. Perhaps a good rocket from Miss Militia could break him apart somewhat? Based on her perfect recollection of Hookwolf's files, almost certainly not.

It certainly sounded as if the situation was somewhat rough; Triumph and Velocity were in another part of the city as well, but there was little news from them.

"I have a visual on Rune!" Chris suddenly declared, jolting everyone. "She's bringing people in, coming down fifth onto sixth! I've got a drone up there but--- yeah, just got busted. She seems to be bringing people down to where Assault and Battery are fighting Stormtiger and Cricket."

"Only a few blocks away," Gallant at once commented.

"Can you engage safely?" from command.

Eyes moved to Aegis.

"Yes ma'am!"

Not a moment's hesitation there. Was it confidence in them all, or taking a risk in the hope of contributing to the situation?

She just had to have confidence in him, and the others... thinking about it, this would be her first time actually fighting any crime with the rest of her team. That was somewhat surreal, all this time she had been kind of flying solo with her loop breaking and the weekly patrol to meet the minimum required amount.

As they stepped out the van, Aegis turned and moved to pick her up.

It was a somewhat embarrassing side effect of her body's rejection of Vista's power, she was basically a ball and chain to the team's mobility, and it was quicker for her to be carried around then let her chase after them. Perhaps, if she survived that long, she could get a PRT motorbike and ride that instead? Or maybe Kid Win could make her a hoverboard...

She almost hoped that she was not too heavy, a lot of her was made of solid gemstone now... then she shook her head.

Now was not the time for such petty thoughts.

Aegis hoisted her up with ease as the Wards sprang into action, between Aegis flight and Vista's spatial warping they could move swiftly enough, even if in their mad dash they were having to move around cars, buses, and pedestrians. Everything was chaotic, but she only had limited ability to see it all as they raced along.

"Visual on Rune 'bout a block up!" Gallant declared.

Had Rune and her goons seen them approaching yet? They were coming from the side, they might blind side them, but even if not---

"Ordinant!" Aegis shouted right next to her head. "Use your power... now!"

She enforced her normality upon the world.

The debris that Rune was standing on fell to the ground, shouts of surprise filled the air as the Cape and the group she was with hit the ground, it was a drop of a couple of metres, it probably would not break any bones, right? Well, it did not matter so much, she was a priority target, a mild injury would just help to make sure she could not get away.

And from there, with the shock and surprise of what was going on the rest of the team could strike, with Taylor dropping her power Vista could resume her own Shaker effect to bring in Clockblocker and Gallant, both of whom had containment foam grenades on hand.

She had to hand it to the pair, they both had a good throw, Gallant in particular threw his grenade more akin to a baseball, sending it spinning through the air.

Not bad, barely any deviation at all in the trajectory.

The capsule shot through the air, right for where he had aimed, there was just a second or two for her targets to react. With a deafening bang, the grenade went off, spraying the liquid contents across the area and individuals involved, where it rapidly began to expand. It was a fascinating invention, Containment Foam. Taylor could not help the vindictive surge of triumph that filled her as she watched Rune get engulfed. 

A little bit of payback from all those weeks ago when she got that piece of concrete in her leg.

"Rune is foamed, got some baseline Empire members as well!" she called in.

"Good work everyone! A van to take Rune away is en-route!"

Now they just had to make sure that Rune could be secured. Containment foam was not an easy substance to escape from, purposefully so. Else it would not be standard issue and such a valuable asset to the PRT, but still, now they needed to make sure Rune could be brought in.

And that was a problem because a PRT van equipped to both remove some of the foam to load her and her goons in would take time to arrive... and in that time they were vulnerable.

Very vulnerable.

They had just minutes of anxious waiting before the next interruption that was not citizens poking heads out or trying to take photos and videos from afar of the containment foam blob surrounded by Wards.

A bright light in the sky, like a miniature sun. But also not, at the same time, the wavelengths of light were similar but radiated from a very different form. Taylor found herself staring at the light even as swear words filled the air from her companions.

Purity.

Of course, one of the worst-case scenarios would occur because that is just how life went.

"Get out the way!"

"Purity is at the Wards location, all nearby Capes break off and converge on the Wards position!" from command.

The Blaster had the benefit of an aerial view, a superior field of vision compared to most of them.

Purity's arm glowed brighter as she pointed it their way. She was actually going to fire on them when they were already retreating!?

Then again, Taylor had seen footage of the woman strafing apartment buildings recently, so perhaps she should not be so surprised. Vista could keep the others out of the way so long as she constantly moved them around, she may not be as fast as the speed of light but if she could just move them.

"Stalker, see if you can get a shot, pump her full of as much shit as you can!"

Aegis called out even as he was diving off to the side. She was not quite sure if she herself could head for a building to seek cover, the woman's beams could demolish them quite handily.

'Huddle close to the foam, she won't risk killing Rune.'

But Purity needed to be kept in place for the moment for Stalker to have a clear shot, and she was the only non-mobile target.

An easy target.

... She had survived worse, hadn't she?

Wait, no that was insane---

S̭̰͑̚ḛͧ͛l̗̪̑f̠́-̯ͤ͗d̰ͮͣͅi̩̹ͩr̫̅͑e̯͙ͬ̄c̞̙̓t̤̉ỉ͇̫v͖̲̇̀e̲̯ͫ:̥̬̾ ͎̱͊m̘̝͒̌ȧ̙̹ͬx̺̓̒i͉͊m͎ͨͭi̐ͅs͈̼̾̍i͇̥͐n͙͊ͭg̩̠̀ ̻͛͗E͇̣͒̈t͇ͫh̘̊e͚̦̓̆ṟ̌̊ ͉̭̂̊D̟̏r̭̀ͯi̹̍ǹ͍̭͋k̟̉e̯̿r̥̳̊.̞͌͌ ̻ͩͅM̠̽̏o͕͇ͣv͈ͩî̬͍ͮn̩͗g̝͆ͨ ̦̐ͦl̺̾ͭi͓ͯm̩̘͌̄b̬̄ ̟͖ͦͩt͕̓̇o̘̓̾ ̞ͮi̦̚n̙̉̑ṱ́e̩̊̍r̯̤̐c̝̋e̼̿p̯̯͋̋t̙ͭ ̼̦ͫ̆b̙ͭͦa͔̣͒s̱̘ͯ̊ḛ͌͒d̹̂͐ ̑ͅō͍̜n̝ͥ ̬͒c̩ͮ̚ḁ͉̊͒l͖̜̊c͎̤ͯ̉u̹̒͑ľ̲̰̍á̯͍͒ṯ͕̽̍ė̦̟͗d̖̫͒ ̜͚̔a͕ͬn̠͇͗͗g̝͊ͫl̺͒e̟͑

(Self-directive: maximising Ether Drinker. Moving limb to intercept based on calculated angle)


E͕͈͖̐́̓s͎̯̓̉ṫ̲i͍̺̠̿̑ͮm̖̱̣͌ͩ̉a̳̯͋̃̊ͅẗ͖͔̯́ḛ͇̥̍̀ͧd͍̀ͯ ̜̗͈̀ṛ̻̩̆́̋ḛͬ͊̐q̲̥͚̾̅u̯̙ͪͅi̻̠̋r̼̊ẽ͉m̯͐̆̋e̙̳͛ͦn̮̜̈̒ͅṭͭ͑ ̼̱̯̄̊o̬͂f͕̈́̏ ͈ͣ͗a͕̱̐ͅd͖̘̆͋̃ḓ̂î̪͎̂̀t̮͉̼ͥ͋ǐ͔̮̩̀ọ̐ͫ͑ṅ̜a̟̿l͔̍ ̪̔̈e͚̋̑ͫṋ͇̬̿ͦ͊e̫̮͐r̙͙̐g͎͒͛y͈̳̩͗͌̽.̳̯̃ͩ̾ ̻̏ͦṰ̝̦͆̔̏ě̙̤m̯̭͗̂ͩp͉̩̚o̤̰͖̐̏̎r͙̗̈a̟̤̫ͩr͔̐̽i͎͕̍l̺̔̈͆y̳ͨ ̼̮̠͑a̲̰̯ͨ͆ͣc̤̙̒̈̈́c͔̬̃ē͈̘s̭͔ͤŝ͎͚̤̚i̝̟̳̓n͖͌̉͆g͉̜͛ ͓̞̦̓͑ͮf̻̘̿ͫu̱̥̫ͥl͈̖͊l̹͈͍̿ͥ ̬̟̪̈́̇ͤC̭ͯ̎ͧo̜̝͉ͫr̲ͤ̓ë͙̫̗́̓͛ ̰͎̑o͕̗ͬ̆ủ͔̦̏t̩͖̜̚p͈͙̝̉ͬȕ̻͇̟̚t͓ͩͣ;̠ͦ ̠̥̜̚3̩̽ͬ%̬̪͂͗

(Estimated requirement of additional energy. Temporarily accessing full Core output; 3%)

She moved her hand into the path of the beam.

It was impossible to fully describe the sensation of taking a laser beam to the palm, especially when barely anybody on the planet could comprehend what it was like to have a limb made of crystal in the first place. All that Taylor was aware of was the way her arm glowed, as if it was greedily devouring the beam, pulling it into her body rather than splitting and refracting it or blasting apart.

As her perceptions slowed, she watched as twin strands of the beam were pulled into the crystal, like a star being ripped apart and drawn into a black hole.

It was beautiful.

Suddenly the beam ceased, Purity was clutching at her side, veering in the air, the glowing figure made for an easy target to aim for just as much as a stationary one on the ground.

"Got the bitch!" came a triumphant holler.

"Stalker---" a voice from command, one drowned out by Aegis.

"Win, see if you can distract her! How long until the drugs hit!?"

Purity began to aim again, swaying in the air only for a flying drone to promptly crash into her from behind, and Taylor could see more of the little tinkertech devices rapidly closing in their direction.

Sacrificing vision for buying some more time for the tranquilliser to take effect.

Taylor meanwhile desperately shook her arm, which was glowing.

Not with the light, but because it was red-hot.

Were it any other form of crystal it might begin melting, or burst into flames, but her limb belonged to the Valley, of course it would not be affected by something so petty as a god-damn laser beam from one of the East Coast's most potent blasters. Fucking hell, it was like standing next to a furnace, except it was part of her body that was on fire! The flesh of her shoulder was not just aching from the crystal, now it was quite literally cooking!

Her outfit's arm was ruined, why did she have to go through so many?

The smell of burning plastic filled the air, warped, near molten metal solidifying in strange new shapes as it cooled.

The drugs were evidently taking hold judging by the way Purity was veering about, disorientated as she turned and tried to fly away, only for another drone to ram into her at full speed sending her cartwheeling through the air whilst Gallant blasted at her with his beams and Shadow Stalker tried to get her again with her bolts. 

The first shot seemed to have been lucky, or just good aim, as she was mostly missing.

And then, Purity began to rapidly descend, landing with a disorientated, graceless stagger a small distance away that just a moment later was interrupted by Aegis tackling her in a manner that made Taylor wonder if he played football in his spare time.

Unnecessary brutality given all the things she had been hit by? Probably.

But Taylor could not deny that she wanted to cheer at the sight.

"---Ward team, please respond, what is the situation!?"

She grimaced as she reached up to her ear. Right, she was supposed to be on comms... the fact her hand had been hot enough to comfortably cook steak on just a few moments ago had rather distracted her from that.

"Ordinant to console, Purity is down," she called.

"Console requesting confirmation; Purity is down?"

"Yes goddammit--- yes, Purity is down, tranquillised and probably a few broken bones."

"Dauntless is en-route, do not foam Purity securing her is an absolute priority, repeat do not foam Purity just keep her locked down and cuffed---"

The others could hog tie her for all Taylor cared, even as she watched Aegis was placing heavy-duty cuffs on the woman... would it do much? Probably not, but between the drugs, pinning her and more they could comfortably keep her secured like this until somebody actually equipped for this came along.

And come he did, Dauntless arrived as a blur in the sky, Arclance and shield active and clearly ready for a fight that was already over.

And then, just as he landed---

Sirens.

Sirens blaring out across the city.

It took her a moment to realise what was going on.

Come on, come the fuck on! Not now, not now when they were on the verge of triumph! Not when they had just managed to secure some of the Empire! What was this, what was all of this!

The air was still as Dauntless paused in securing Purity, as voices once more filled their ears, bearing new instructions.

Taylor ground her teeth.

This wasn't right, they should all be brought in! They had worked so hard, waited days for this opportunity to bring some peace to the city and in a moment, with the dreadful wail of those accursed sirens it was all being upended, a ridiculous, cruel turn of luck. After everything, after the damage to the city and the loss of lives, and now the Empire members they had worked so well together to contain, were going to get released scot-free?

All because of some god-damn sirens and a directive from those safe and sound who could not comprehend their efforts. If only they had a few more minutes, an hour! Throw the book at them! The addition of Purity and Rune to the defences, it would not be that critical, right? Let them suffer, prosecute them!

Let the Ward's be known for what they had done! Their achievement, the difference they had made, stolen away from them at the last moment.

As she desperately raged within her own head, the indignation made her heart feel ready to burst.

Chapter Text

This document is an abbreviated version of the full PRT document, and has been produced for the benefit of temporary staff, governmental bodies or persons of interest, and should not be taken as a full summation of information, protocols and ongoing research at the site. Please see Quarantine Site-09 PRT Reference Document for more information.

PRT PRIMER DOCUMENT - QUARANTINE SITE-09: THE CRYSTAL VALLEY

Location - The former Mt. Jacobs National Park, Maine. The nearest civilian settlement is the village of Edgecombe, four miles away from the perimiter of the site. The nearest city is Brockton Bay, 32 kilometers away. The Site extends past the historic extent of the Mt. Jacobs National Park, with 16% of Site-09's area incorporating former private and public land.


Description - The Site encompasses all space and spaces surrounding affected by the terraforming effect of E004, 'The Oort-Spider', encompassing a total area of 72.23 km^2. All space and spaces within this area of effect is an anomalous silicon-based ecosystem based on an anomalous form of crystalline matter currently found only within Site-09 and Sub-Sites 2-3 that is hostile to all forms of terrestrial life.

Based on the impact trajectory of E04 and astronomical positioning of its anomalous cosmological perspective (see below) it is speculated that the Site is a copy or extension of an extraterrestrial ecosystem located within the hypothesised Oort-Cloud surrounding the solar system. If so, then the organisms within the Site represent the first confirmed instances of extraterrestrial life encountered by humanity.

Quarantine Site-09 exhibits significant deviation from the understood rules of physics akin to a Parahuman Shaker effect:

1. The Site is not protected by any part of the Earth's magnetosphere or ozone layer from the influence of solar radiation, and consequently is exposed to constant bombardment from solar winds. The level of solar wind esposure is reduced by comparison to modelled levels for unknown reasons.
2. Materials and organisms not native to Quarantine Site-09 that make contact with the ground begin a process of rapid biomineralisation (see Oort-Spider Crystallisation Primer document for details) into the same crystalline material as other lifeforms and structures within the Site.
   1. Parahumans contracting the Crystallisation undergo multiple, sequential Trigger Events, gross mutation and uncontrolled power expression. The mechanics behind this syndrome is unknown but hypothesised to be a desperate self-defence mechanism against the Crystallisation process.
      1. Only 1 Parahuman is known to have contracted Oort-Spider Crystallisation and demonstrated an immunity to this process (details relating to research into the Parahuman are restricted to clearence level 4 researchers and staff for Parahuman privacy reasons).
      2. Crystallisation in Parahumans is drastically accelerated in progression whilst in contact with material native to the Site.
   2. Parahumans capable of flight or who can avoid contact with crystalline structures are immune to this effect.
3. The position of celestial objects when observed from Site-09 is not contiguous with the location's relative position on the Earth.
   1. Based on models the position emulated by the site is approximately 167,000 Astronomical Units from the Earth (See Point Beta document).
   2. The position and astronomical positioning of stars is the same described as 'correct' by some advanced sufferers of Oort-Spider Crystallisation. At current, the most accurate such description exhibits a 0.007 degree of simmilarity, created by Crystallisation Patient 002.

Essential containment and research special procedures:

• No Human is to enter Quarantine Site-09 and research should be entirely conducted through the use of remote, non-tinkertech airborne drones.
• NO PARAHUMAN IS TO ENTER QUARANTINE SITE-09. Any Parahuman entering Quarantine Site-09 is to be terminated at immediate notice and without hesitation with all available ordinances. Any Parahuman infected with Crystallisation is a threat to all personel within a significant radius and should be considered lost. Any Parahuman attempting to forcibly gain entry into Site-09 is to be terminated at once through any means neccessary.
• In the event that the Oort-Spider begins to relocate or move the Site is to be evacuated at once.
• UPDATE: Any Site personel displaying symptoms of dizziness, confusion and sudden urges or actions to consume colleagues nervous tissue should be reported immediately to site management.
  • Special note from Management: Any individual reporting the above symptoms is no longer your friend, colleague or family. Please see amended Quarantine Site-09 Safety Protocols for more details.
• UPDATE following the 02/30/2011 Marsdon Event:
  • Security surrounding Site-09 has been increased to include a continuous military presence alongside PRT and Protectorate forces. Site-09 and jurasdiction has been expanded to encompass the entire of Sites-09, Sub-Site 01 and 02. A mobile taskforce is to monitor Sub-Site 03 and perform required evacuations.
  • Parahuman researchers are no longer permitted on site without clearance from internal security and a special research permit.
  • Any individual connected to the Marsdon Family or Fallen Cult discovered on staff or attempting to gain access to Site-09 is to be dealt with as if they were a Parahuman undergoing Oort-Spider Crystallisation.
  • No Parahuman with a known Shaker rating are to be permitted within three miles of any Quarantine Site relating to Site-9 or location known to or suspected of harbouring material(s) from the Site.

Note: All permanent personnel should be familiar with the Quarantine Site-09 Safety Protocols.

Lifeforms within Quarantine Site-09

Due to the difficulty in categorising and differenciating the essential functions between organisms within Quarantine Site-09, organisms within cannot be conventionally categorised using traditional taxonomic classifications. Lifeforms have been categorised into Floraformes that fulfil the role of primary producers and Faunaforme organisms that fulfil the role of primary, secondary and tertiary consumers.

The ecosystem's functions of Site-09's organisms is still undergoing evaluation and investigation, but is believed to be based on the metabolism of Solar energetic particles (SEP's) to produce energy, with 98% of captured and examined organisms showing invigorated activity when exposed to both natural and artificial SEP's.

Parahuman specialists capable of observing or detecting Dark Matter have also discovered a diverse variety of 'plankton' that populate Site-09, and which may prove analogous to terrestrial chlorophyll in Floraformes and act as a major food source for primary-consumers within the ecosystem. See document Dark Matter Plankton for more details.

Due to the crystalline composition of all known organisms within Site-09, no form of senescence has yet to be observed within any species. Based on the observed rate of growth of some organisms (most notably Floraforme-001), it is hypothesised that some individuals in the wild would be in excess of 100,000,000 years old. Due to the inability to observe the native ecosystem, it is impossible to confirm if such (or larger) wild specimens exist.

Faunaformes:

1. Faunaforme-001 - See PRT document E04 - The Oort-Spider.
2. Faunaforme-002 - A species of small organism with a central core from which multiple (3-1000) feathery-tendrils extend. An endoparasite of other Floraformes. Read full document.
3. Faunaforme-003 - A species of large organism superficially simmilar to terrestrial Nereididae but possessing multiple paddle-shaped wing-like structures and grossly enlarged mandible structures. Individuals reach thirty-feet in length and locomote through undulations through the air with no visible points of articulation. Highly aggressive and predatory with demonstrated trophy taking behaviour. Read full document.
4. Faunaforme-004 - A species of large vaguely connical organisms reaching up to 2.5 metres long that locomotes via a trio of frill like structures that run diagonal along the body. Speculated to be some manner of predator of smaller Faunaformes engulfed via fixed honeycombed orifice at the anterior of the body but no feeding events have yet been observed. Read full document.
5. Faunaforme-005 - [Description removed to avoid compromise] - Any Site personal displaying symptoms of dizziness, confusion and sudden urges or actions to consume colleagues nervous tissue should be reported immediately to site management. Access to full document is restricted.

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Floreformes:

1. Floreforme-001 - A species of vast coral-like floraformes with complex, branching polyps, currently believed to be the largest such organisms within Site-09. The species is analogous to dominant tree species in terrestrial ecosystems and form a sparse but wide spreading canopy and supports a wide variety or other species. The largest specimen (see Floraforme-001-1032) stands in excess of five hundred metres tall.
2. Floreforme-002 - A species of lichen-analogue floraforme consisting of multiple overlapping crystal plates and cups. Observed to be fast growing and a major food source for numerous Faunaforme species. 
3. Floreforme-003 - A species of medium sized lichen-analogue floraforme consisting of bundles of tightly packed spines. Internal core glows faintly in living specimens and heavily parasitised by Faunaforme-002. Produce intense alpha radiation as a suspected by product of their metabolism, 
4. Floreforme-004 - A species of lotus-like floraforme possessing between 8-108 plates superficially resembling petals, which open and close in a 72 hour cycle for unknown purposes. Widely used as a nest or habitation by Faunaforms as it closes, and suspected to perform some manner of mutualism with such species.
5. Floreforme-005 - A reef building coral analogue that dominates large areas of open terrain. Reefs formed are mobile and migrates slowly accross large areas to find locations of low Floraforme-001 density to best capitalise on unobstructed solar winds.

On 02/29/2011 at 22:36 a group of individuals belonging to a previously unknown branch of the Fallen Cult (now named the Marsdon Branch) successfully breached the perimeters surrounding Quarantine Site-09 through a combination of Parahuman abilities and high explosives and entered the Site with unknown intentions as part of a coordinated action (see The Marsdon Event for full details). Swift response neutralised 5 individuals who had been in the process of undergoing Oort-Spider Crystallisation, but 7 individuals escaped with an unknown number of floraforme and faunaforme samples. 5 individuals were successfully located within 48 hours within a 60 mile radius of Quarantine Site-09, 2 individuals were killed and the samples destroyed. The remaining 3 individuals were Parahumans with Shaker ratings who willingly ingested/implanted the materials and suffered an anomalous form of crystallisation that spread to the maximum extent of their Shaker powers influence alongside undergoing repeated Trigger Events. These individuals shall be henceforth referred to as Hosts within the document.

Whilst significantly smaller than Quarantine Site-09, Sub-Sites 1-3 demonstrate the same Deviations from standard Earth conditions and ecosystem structure as Site-09, and should be treated in the same way in all instances.

The existence of Sub-Sites 02 and 03 is classified to the public.


Sub-Sites:

• Sub-Site 01 (Link to full document)
  • Status: Neutralised
  • Description: Located 22 miles from Site-09. Sub-Site 1's Host was an unidentified shaker with a limited radius of five metres. Host was killed upon discovery and was found partially fused to a Floraforme-001 specimen. The site and accompanying ecosystem decayed at an exponential rate, reverting to the terrain as it had been previously within 48 hours.
• Sub-Site 02 (Link to full document)
  • Status: Contained and under study
  • Description: Located 24 miles from Site-09. Sub-Site 2's Host is an unidentified shaker with a radius of thirty metres. Host is fully fused and assimilated into the life functions of Floraforme-001-S3-01, a specimen of immense size, but has shown no capacity to speak and is believed brain dead. Site is being managed and investigated as an alternative and safer avenue for research into Site-09.
• Sub-Site 03 (Link to full document)
  • Status: UNCONTAINED AND MOBILE
  • Description: Located 55 miles from Site-09. Sub- Site 03's first Host is an unidentified Shaker whose power has a suspected radius of 100 metres. Sub-Site 03 exhibits a much more hostile ecosystem compared to Sub Sites 1 and 2 with a significantly denser population of predators, of which a number (39) have only been observed in Sub-site 03. Host was forcibly assimilated and fused to the carapace of a previously unobserved species of Faunaforme (Faunaforme-263) that has become the proxy-Host. Faunaforme-263 is only known from the type specimen and acts as the central locus of Sub-Site 03, which moves as it does.
    • UPADTE: 03/09/2011:Following an attempt to locate and euthanise the Host of Sub Site-03, Faunaforme-263 successfully trapped and infected three Parahumans (designations: 'Blast Shadow', 'Hyperborean' and 'Virtuouso') with Oort-Spider Crystallisation and successfully incorporated them into its own body, and since them has demonstrated a limited capacity to make use of their powers.
      • UPDATE: 03/11/2011: Sub Site-03 is charting a course directly for Quarantine Size-04 ("Ellisburg") and is expected to reach it within 17-19 weeks. Purpose is suspected to be the infection and assimilation of the Parahuman Nilbog. Extermination through means that will not spread/shatter Sub-site 03's material deemed highest priority.
        • UPDATE: 03/17/2011: Following reclassification as an S-Class threat (see document The Oort-Fractal), extermination through nuclear response is under consideration.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay had become a hive of activity, and not in the good way. 

In a month, it had been terrorised by a mad bomber, one of its major villains had escaped custody, and then its other major gang had all had their public identities revealed and gone on a rampage... only in Brockton Bay. And now an Endbringer was attacking. 

Taylor had to wonder whether it was all some cosmic coincidence, or if Leviathan had known just how bad the situation here was and now had come to try and provide some final death blow.

The streets were packed with people, and despite all the training, the public information pamphlets and other preparations made over the years the moment those sirens went off, chaos descended.

It was a sad but understandable reminder that Humans are just animals. Flawed. Acting on instinct when things went wrong. She reacted oddly in response to stress as well. 

She also had to wonder whether the Protectorate now regretted building their main base in the middle of the bay, she knew that it had been evacuated of personnel and its most important equipment by this point. There was little doubt in anyone’s mind that it would suffer greatly during what was to come. 

Taking a deep breath, she clenched her hand.

A new outfit, a new suit.

Rune and that bitch had walked, on the condition that they take part in the battle with Leviathan.

Of course, Taylor had volunteered to help, just as she had with everything she could before. She would not be on the front line, although with something as fast as Leviathan the definition of front line was a nebulous and hazy thing. Even if she would probably be helping with search and rescue, she could not help the surge of nervous fear that blossomed in her chest. 

This was real, all of it, of all cities it was Brockton Bay that would be attacked. But she had a duty to help.

On the plus side, it was not the Simurgh, on the downside, it was Leviathan. Not that it was really any consolation.

She had told her father to leave the city, but the roads were filled with cars and he refused to go. 

"So long as you're here Taylor, then so am I," he had insisted over the phone, the Hebert family stubbornness coming to the fore, right before lecturing her on staying safe, not taking any unnecessary risks at all and getting out the moment anything that could harm her happened. 

He had been putting on a tough act, promising her that he would be fine and she could hear it in his voice. He would be in the same Endbringer shelter as the Barnes, Alan and Zoe had talked to her as well, she rather suspected that they knew the truth about why she would not be in theshelter. They would see her when this all blew over, they said, everything would be fine, the heroes would turn away the Citykiller and everything would be okay, just so long as she took care of herself.

And then there was Emma, who was last on the line before her dad came on again with a second reminder to stay safe.

Her best friend had said so much that it had been hard to keep track of over the unstable line, but...

"You are going to be fine, Tay, I'll make sure of it."

... What a silly, sweet thing to say, it had made her smile, made her almost want to cry a little in relief, but she had no idea why.

"... You'll be fine," she had repeated a half dozen times into her ear, as if just by saying it she could make it come true.

"I know, Em's, thanks so much, you stay safe as well."

But what if everything wasn't fine! What if everything went wrong!? Why couldn't she get all these ideas out of her head, she needed to be utterly focused on her job, and yet here she was simulating possible events. 

She had already spent the last few hours mentally reviewing old Endbringer battle footage, dozens of hours of video condensed in her brain, both the good and the considerably worse. Her memory was a bit too good for her own good, she had seen dozens of people die in the videos, and she could imagine each of them as her father, as Alan and Zoe and Emma. 

They all kept replaying in her head, endlessly. 

A good number of people had left. The city, already decaying, had become ghostly in nature. Only the brave, the foolish and the desperate were not already in the shelters, the scavengers, looters. Despite the best efforts of Capes and PRT forces to curtail such activity, it was all inevitable really. There would always be some who would take advantage of an impending tragedy to try and grab all they could. 

And now here she was, waiting in an ugly six-story building of dark brick, the staging area where heroes and villains gathered.

She crossed her legs on the chair, staring out towards the sea.

Dark clouds we’re gathering, approaching land, like an executioner’s axe slowly being raised into the air before it all suddenly fell. Oh god she was using such grim turns of phrase, she needed to be positive! It would be fine, a few deaths and some bad flooding no doubt... her home would not be destroyed, right?

Still...

The Triumvirate were here. 

Them and many others, of course, but still... whilst she had seen Legend in the flesh before it was very different now. He and Alexandria made conversation, whilst Eidolon, the strongest of Parahumans beyond Scion was stood at the window watching the approaching storm. She could now say that she had seen the whole Triumvirate at some point in her life, so that was one off the bingo card... and there were plenty of other Capes she had observed and researched over the years.

She looked around, taking everything in.

Just a short distance away Kaiser sat with some of his fellow members of the Empire 88, posed like some manner of emperor with his elbows on his knees staring into the crowd.

With the recent events in the man’s life, she had to wonder how he had the confidence to show his face at a time like this... but then again, if the entire world knew your name, if you had had to go underground to avoid scrutiny or even arrest, then what else did one have to lose? 

When pushed into a corner, Humans fought back at their best.

So many different responses and reactions. 

A few people laughed and joked, their words and humour forced as they desperately sought to find some levity in what was to come. 

Others, known groups, all formed cliques, huddling together in distinct islands of people, between which individuals and strangers moved and ran. She recognised Bastion, the leader of the Boston Protectorate, and he nodded gruffly her way when he took notice of her but seemed to be focusing more on ignoring Kaiser, who had settled on staring at him.

Weld was present, not far from him, but Hunch was not, which was something of a relief.

She clicked her neck. 

Beside her, Aegis glanced her way. 

She was sat with most of her fellow Wards, pretty much all of them would be taking part in the same capacity, although only Shadow Stalker had any previous experience of Endbringer battles, and that was against the Simurgh in Canberra. Very different circumstances, but still an Endbringer battle. Plenty of folks did not survive their first, Taylor had seen the percentages and they were not good, although Leviathan tended to kill less then Behemoth.

Well, less Heroes certainly...

...

She took out her phone.

Ra1ndrops  : Holy shit Leviathans hitting the Bay? Hey @LittleOwl and @BrightEyes are you safe? Are you evacuating or going into Endbringer shelters? 

Ra1ndrops  : Hey its been a few hours you guys okaY?

Ra1ndrops  : Guys?

CreateRandom  : Probably in shelters already Aimee, might not have signal. Hopefully they're both safe

LittleOwl  : Both safe and sound sorry its all mad here

A white lie. 

She was very much not safe and sound, and was most certainly not going to be in the coming hours either. But telling herself that she would be okay, both in her mind and seeing it on the little glass screen was a small bit of comfort, an artificial little confidence boost.

But still... she should have all her affairs in order...

LittleOwl  : Hey guys

LittleOwl  : If either of us don't make it though all this, can you please write us letters? Like usual? 

SkySkyDaydream  : Of course Taylor

Ra1ndrops  : Of course we will but don't worry that won't happen im praying for you, our lord will protect you both

BigBlueInsomniac  : we'll will dream otherwise

BigBlueInsomniac  : Sorry my text to speech messed up

BigBlueInsomniac  : We would not dream of it, comma capital t taylor. dammit sorry again.

LittleOwl  : It's okay Insomniac, thanks guys it's just you know... got to plan for it in case

She put her phone away. She would need it for later, no point using up all the batter now, even if every second was dragging at this point. 

Kid Win was anxiously checking and rechecking his equipment, as is to make sure it was still there and working in the time since he last checked thirty-seconds ago. Gallant was a small distance away speaking with his girlfriend, Glory Girl aka Victoria Dallon. Aegis was sat with elbows on his knees deep in thought and beside her Vista was sitting as limp as a doll, was she resting her eyes?

Despite the best attempts of their superiors, moods were low.

The Wards from other cities were all given the Brockton Bay group a small distance, as if a physical barrier existed between them. Only Weld had dared to broach this concrete no man's land to say a few words to her, before retreating.

... They had done so well; their superiors had recognised that. Despite the ambush by Purity, had it been any other circumstance the Brockton Bay Wards would have been recognised as the heroes of the day, the headlines would have described their valiant efforts, there were videos online of their efficient taking down of Rune and their teamwork to bring down Purity and there were even some words about making an official video of it all.

There had been a good few questions about why, exactly, the Wards had been anywhere near the Blaster 9, but Ordinant had been mentioned in plenty of the comments... there were even a few touched up photos of her holding out her arm and meeting the beam head on, jaw visibly gritted as she did so. If they made an official poster of it, would it be egotistical to have one and put it on her wall?

Were it not for Leviathan she might have cemented her legacy... yes, she was being petty and bitter, of course defending her home from the gigantic hydrokinetic monstrosity came first, of course.

It just stung that in the end their efforts had been for nothing, the days of stress and anxiety had done little but helped the PRT strong arm two Empire members into helping when they may well have done so out of their own free will.

Strangely, of all of them, it was their least talkative member that broke the fragile silence between them.

"... Shit's going to get fucked," Shadow Stalker spoke up with that characteristic gruffness that Taylor had come to associate with the girl. "Like, really fucked... don't bother being heroes if you cannot guarantee your own safety," that was for all of their benefit. After a moment to let the statement hang, she turned her head in Taylor's direction. "Just get out of it alive, don't try and pull another Bakuda or Purity."

It was easily the worst encouragement she had heard yet, but at the same time it was so blunt and grounded that Taylor had no doubt that it came from a genuine place.

"... Thanks, Stalker."

"I mean it."

"I know."

She had no doubt about that, the girl did not come across as a natural liar and for all of her abrasiveness, Taylor would trust in her experience on this one.

"It's all going to be okay!" Vista suddenly interjected, straight out of the blue, more forcibly than necessary. A reassurance, as much for herself as anybody else.

"Yeah... it'll all be fine. I'll try to make sure that my power does not get in your way, M--Vista," she promised. The younger Ward had a much greater capacity to help in search and rescue efforts, what with her ability to shorten and lengthen distance. 

She turned her gaze back towards the sea. The clouds were darkening.

Legend had begun a speech that broke any delusions about what this was going to be.

It began as a pitter-patter, and escalated from there until the rain was slamming down, the distant peals of thunder were like drums and trumpets to announce the arrival of the ocean's king.

Chapter Text

'No plan survives first contact with the enemy.'

The old axiom somehow applied even when there was barely a plan to begin with. 

Taylor may just be a Ward, one with frankly limited experience, but a lot of time spent watching Endbringer and Cape battles... but Legend's speech had left little real hope in her heart. Brockton Bay, a soft target in which every second counted, built on an aquifer that was probably being churned and eroded as the battle raged, unnoticed by all. 

And the plan, such as she knew it? Divide the participants into those with Endbringer battle experience, those without, and then assign people to various groups with different purposes. 

She had hoped for some grand plan, to organise a trap and teleport Leviathan out, to hold it in place and then concentrate some sort of Tinker superweapon on it... one that would conveniently leave her home city untouched and everyone safe and sound. 

It was far less than that, it was throwing bodies at a meat grinder and hoping that by some miracle that everything would work out. There was no doubt smaller efforts to coordinate and do damage, but no grand strategy or big plan beyond 'hit hard and hope for Scion'

Of the Brockton Bay Wards, their roles were varied. Aegis would be on the front lines, Kid Win was providing fire support with some cannon he had built, Vista was under Bastion's command to try and keep Leviathan pinned down and in one place. Clockblocker was in a much more fluid position, if he could stop Leviathan, then it would buy time, set up traps and opportunities to inflict major damage... 

However, whilst tougher than the average Human, Taylor was not deemed tough enough to stand toe to toe with Leviathan, so she and the only other Ward who could not contribute more directly were on search and rescue. She had wondered about her power and its use, though...

"Shadow Stalker, Ordinant," the armband spoke, and she hurried to bring it to her ear. "Krieg is fifteen metres from your position under a pile of rubble, life signs stable," she could hear Shadow Stalker give a huff. 

An Empire Cape, but right now, an ally...

Pushing through water a foot deep she gracelessly splashed her way forward, Stalker had the advantage of turning into darkness and floating along, but unfortunately Taylor still had to contend with the concept of water resistance. She forced her way through it, not caring for the noise she made as she did so. Turning a corner, they found a street that had clearly been the front line just minutes before. 

There was a building that had partially collapsed, a wall demolished, and it was here that the armband led them.

Shadow Stalker was ahead, grabbing and throwing away bricks that had landed atop the man. There was a larger segment of wall, several dozen bricks still together by cement, that lay over his chest but was in one of those really awkward positions where to grab it you'd have to willingly squeeze your arm in to get a grip.

"Let me, scratching crystal doesn't matter," Taylor supplied and reached forward roughly into the gap, gripping the other side of the stone and heaving. She may not be strong, but with a good grip she managed to roll over the section of wall whilst Shadow Stalker grabbed and chucked the smaller bricks and debris into the water behind them, each landing with loud splooshes and splashes. The unconscious form of Krieg slowly became visible, and beside her, Taylor could practically feel the hostility radiating off her fellow Ward.

Sophia Hess. 

They had unmasked to one another a while ago, but never really spoken much after. For the last week or so everyone had been in such tense silence waiting for the moment they would be called into action that conversations had been short and to the point. With Sophia, that meant monosyllabic responses. It was almost easier to just think of her as Shadow Stalker than as Sophia Hess from school, she had spoken more words to her as the former than as the latter.

Still, to find out that a girl in her class was a fellow Ward... small world, eh?

As they worked together to drag the unconscious body out of the remaining rubble, Taylor had to wonder just what the girl felt right now, helping to retrieve the unconscious and wounded Empire lieutenant from what would be certain death if another tsunami came in. Shadow Stalker had a somewhat... chequered history as a vigilante, as far as she knew it. To save somebody who was not only a villain, but who belonged to a gang that famously hated and persecuted people of your race must be...

Actually, she wasn't even going to try and put words in the girl’s head.

They had a job to do.

"Next tsunami eta two minutes," came a reminder from the armband.

Two minutes. In that time, they needed to get into the ruined building beside them, up nice and high, and hope that it would hold against the force of the tidal wave, then they could descend and continue their work. Already they had done so for the first and second wave, in the distance the sounds of the battle could sometimes be heard... she had not heard the names of her fellow Wards going down yet.

Taylor pressed the left-hand button of the armband to put a message through. 

"Krieg is out of the rubble, please advise!"

A momentary pause... Shadow Stalker was staring down at the unconscious man and looking about ready to kick him in the stomach when, with a boom like thunder, a cape appeared next to them. Strider, a teleporter. The man didn't even give them a brisk nod, he simply had them step away and took away Krieg, she presumed to relocate him to some manner of trauma centre.

"... Fucker got lucky," the sheer enmity in the statement said it all.

"It's bullshit," Taylor did not need to say much more to that, she hoped that the sentiment went through.

"C'mon, let’s not bother with this one," Stalker gestured to the ruined building. "We'll go for that one, break in a window if need be," she gestured for the one opposite, a newer, more sturdily built apartment block that had not sustained any damage at all. They did so, the door was open (or it was with a good shoulder barge, but trespass was alright in an Endbringer battle, right?) and they began ascending a dark stairwell, up to the highest level they could.

The building was decently tall, if the incoming tsunami was the same size or just slightly larger than the previous, then they would be fine here...

Stalker was looking out towards the horizon, even if she could not see her teammate's face, Taylor did not need to. 

Taylor checked the armband. 

Leviathan was a few blocks over, a large, ugly red dot that rapidly moved this way and that.

Stepping up beside Sophia, Taylor kept an eye on the armband whilst Sophia watched out for the wave. 

Not long after;

"Here it comes."

The wave struck the front of the city, buildings taking the brunt of it. By the time it reached the apartment block the two of them were in, the water was filled with the flotsam and jetsam of a city, cars, shopping bags... an empty child's pram, broken pieces of a building and even a small tree or two that once probably sat on the boardwalk. If they had not gotten to higher ground, it would not just be drowning that would threaten their lives, it would be the crush of objects, being crushed and pulverised against surfaces. 

And now, they waited, because once the tsunami hit you had to wait for it all to pull back, to drag a great volume of mass back into the ocean.

"Bastion deceased, CD-5---" blared the armband, and alongside it, other names.

Somewhere far off was the sound of a building collapsing, joining the rushing mass of water that had engulfed the streets.

Bastion was dead. She had barely known the man, and even if he had failed at the time, he had done his best to keep her safe when she had been in Boston. It was just one of a large number of names that she had heard since the battle began, many of which she knew and recognised distantly from long sessions on PHO assimilating information. How would Weld and Hunch respond to the man’s death, he was their equivalent of Armsmaster, right?

Bastion had also been the head of the team that was mostly Shakers in charge of pinning down Leviathan, right? Vista was in that group, was she alright? She had to be.

"You're worried about the pipsqueak?"

"... Yeah." Now was not the time to correct the other girl, not in the middle of an Endbringer battle.

"... Remember what I said before. We've just gotta get out alive." 

Taylor nodded idly. Below them, the water was still churning. It was slowing, soon they would be able to descend and continue rescue efforts... if there was anybody under all that who could be saved.

"Was it like this with the Simurgh?"

"Very different sort of fight," Sophia grunted, with a sort of half shrug. "I got out alright, and that's all that matters, lot's didn't, it's not like fighting a Cape where you can grind them down with time, all of them have a sort of time limit but without the armbands you cannot even keep track of it with the Simurgh."

Did Sophia ever doubt herself? 

Did question's ever fill her brain about what damage the Simurgh might have done? Everyone knew the example of what happened in Switzerland, did Sophia now lay awake at night from time to time wondering if she would go crazy at some point? The weird questions that came up from being around another person and knowing their history---

Return to duties.

Continue gathering information.

Her eyes snapped back to look out of the windows.

The water had receded, the battle continued. 

In an Endbringer battle, it was amazing where people fell. 

It is not just in the streets and ruins of buildings; it is atop them as well. 

A Cape she had never heard of, perhaps even a very recent Trigger, had fallen unconscious on top of an apartment building. Command was not sure exactly where or the condition beyond ‘alive and unconscious.’ 

Taylor could only guess that she was a mover of some sorts, and had been flying away after sustaining an injury before losing consciousness and just about managing to land before they did so. At least, that was her logic, it was all that she could come up with that made sense... that, or she had been thrown by the Endbringer perhaps? 

In the end, the how did not matter, only getting her out and to safety did. 

Dear god though, Taylor was getting some cardio in today, days in the PRT's gym were paying off as she reached the top of the several stories of stairs to the rooftop; Stalker had gone on ahead, and Taylor reluctantly found herself admiring the track star's endurance. Then again... her Breaker state was also cheating a little bit. 

The top of the roof was relatively neat and organised, there was no apparent rubble to be cleared away, the casualty had been put into the recovery position by Sophia, and Taylor rushed to call in the status. That was how they had settled into this work by now, Sophia reached the downed cape and did an immediate off the cuff assessment, began clearing rubble if needed and Taylor would take care of the communications.

"We have Gloriana at... C2:A5, top of the apartment block. She's bleeding but seems stable, no obstacles in the way if there is evac' free!" she spoke into the arm band.

This time there was no crack of thunder as somebody arrived within a few moments to take away Gloriana, no doubt all the Movers for fast evacuation were busy with other calls, the numbers would only mount up with time after all. So instead, Taylor focused on keeping an eye on the armband. Leviathan, how far away was the fighting? 

Down the street was a deafening crash, Taylor could see the way Sophia immediately looked up, visibly tensing. 

That was not good. 

According to the Armband, the Endbringer was only a block or two away, a decent enough distance if you were a human on foot, but Leviathan zipped around on the armband at a speed that said more than enough, sudden, jerking movements that easily carried it through what should be several walls.

There were dots in the air above the building, was that perhaps Eidolon, there? Or some other flier?

Taylor glanced down at Gloriana, this cape she had never met before and who was breathing heavily even whilst unconscious. She should make it, even if she was jostled around a bit, right?

"Let’s get outta here, we'll take her with us," Sophia commanded, and Taylor felt no desire to disagree. It was bad to move wounded people casually, but they did not really have much choice.

Between the two of them they hauled the downed Cape up, carrying her away to the entrance to the stairs. There was nothing but a waist high concrete barrier to stop somebody just walking off, but then again, Taylor rather suspected that Sophia had forced the door judging by the state of the frame, and here they had to stop so that the other Ward could hook her ankle around the door to pull it open---

A red blur, not far away.

"You two, get out!"

It was Aegis? Yes, Aegis who was landing on the roof, already taking what looked like a defensive pose.

Wait, but if Aegis was here---

They were now at the front line.

A blur of motion as the first few syllables of Sophia swearing reached her ears, as the looming shadow of Leviathan appeared. How did it get up so high!? It less clambered onto the roof than it launched itself into the sky with its momentum, landing as lightly as a cat despite its several tonnes of weight, and at once it was charging forward, focused on Aegis as the only real threat to it.

She saw it in hideous slow motion, as Leviathan surged forward, fist raised, and of course, the water echo was following it. There would be a hammer like blow and then Aegis would be hit by a wall of water, little different from concrete in its total force. Her brain span, the chance of his survival was zero, he was tough, but he was not that tough, right? 

E̺͐ͧͨn͕̣̻͎͓̔̆ͭ̅̚g̤͖̯ͨ̒â̜g͚̤̀̌ͮì̬̳̤ͧͪṅ̠̯̂̄ͅg͕̱̭̞͌ͭͥ͌ ̺ͦ͊̓P̺̙̓̀̚ặ͙͓r̺̄ạ͙͕̠ͪͧd̪̭̰̀̐̌ͨͅî͚̳̹̠g͎ͯ̆͊̾̚m̲̣̲̑̈́ ̰̫͂I̬̗̖̞̠ͭn͖͛ͭ̊ͮf̙ͩl̞̲̻̞ͯͦͭ̽a̻͙͖̽t̪̜̝͕̎ͤ͆̂̅i̼ͧ̌ͦȏ̪̠̘̯ͨͅn̙ͧ̾͌:̟ͯ̆ͦ̂̒ ̪̱͉͚ͯ͊ͅS͚̖̼̻ͨ̀ͨ̃p͉ͫͨ̈͌o̫͐́ͨn̺ͥ̑̐ͣt̺̫̥̏ͬā̜̠͖̥̀ͮ̉̍n̦̺̖̤͐̒͊e͙̲̥͋ó̼͚̥̩ͩ̒u̩̪͙ͬ̄̄ͅs̹ͣ̓͆ ͇̰̿ͧg̯̖̝ͦ̉́ȇ̘͈̥͙̠̈ͮṅ̺͎͎̉ͧͯe͕̺͖̝̱ͯṙ̰̟̋̿ͅa̰̯̭̭ͩ̍̂t̥̙̄i͍͇̲̗͛͆ͤ̋ô͓͔ͥ͗ͅǹ͍͖͈͒̐͛ ̮͛͊ò̳̰͖̓́̉f̙̹̹̎ͮ̒̎ͨͅ ̥̟̻̭̿̽w̮̃ͫ͋̐ā̭̙̗̳̲͆̅t͓͖̦̒e͚̲ͯͫ̅̚r̯ͬ ̪̜͕͈̈́͛ͬi͉ͤ͒̑́n͍͉̯̙͖̎̄ͮ̐ ͉̼͈̝̲͑s̯͐͌ͣͬ̃p͈̙͖̱̘ͫ̓ǎ̺̬̻̻̰̊̚ĉ̗̜̠͍̺ͫȅ̬̦͉ͣs̜͈̠͖̈ͦͨ͋ͥ ̼ͫ̇̆f̬̗̣͓̾̀o̙͊ͮ́̔r̯̖͔ͧ̂m͇ͯ͂̍̒e̺͍̜̺͆ͩ͋r͎̘̫͇̦̂̍͐͊̓l̠̰͕̐ͧ̉y͍̑ͮ̊̃̃ ̖̩̺ͣͪ̾o̺͍̲̻̘ͯͧ͒ͯ͆c̦ͪ̈́ͪc̳͉͆u͕̹ͣ̓̋̍̃p̫͕̱̎ͥ͑̈i̟͚͖̒ͫ͑͒é͕̬̦ḍͯ ͙̜͈̥͓̇ͬͣͦb̺̟͂͑̿͐̆y̗̎ͅ ̳͈͌ͮͥ͒'͉̌̿̈ͭ̚L͍̩͍̄e͚͌ͬ͆ͨ̋v̞̪̿i̥͔͕̫͖͌̏a̹̯̩̱̖̓̔̔̾t̠͆ẖͩͭ̀ͮa̭̩͊ͥ͛̓ͨn̬͈͔͕͐̈́̄̈́'̭̀͂ͫ̈́͛,̫ͮ̎ ̼̯͈͇͎̄̄̆̅̔

m̙̙͇̞ͮ͌͛̈́̀ͅa̻̫͉͎͆ͯ̐͒̐ȉ̬̪n̮̖̓̏ͫt͈̺̹̱̋͛̏̓͐ā̦̮̺͎̘̆ͧ̑̌i̱̥̗̘̮͛ͦ͌n̰͕͖ͩ̾̅i̭̯͊̃̈́̎n̞̥̗̄g͔̞͚͆ͯ̾ ̲̭͈͉̌ͯ̏s̬͈̳̬̜̿̄p̱͎͚̈̍e͙̭ͨͬ͊̔̚e̬̗̔d͚̲̿̑ͧ ̗̝̙ͪ͋̚a͇̞ͫ̓n̲̙ͩ̈́̚d̙̗͋̓̈́͆ ͍̚t̻͎͑ͧ́ͬr̰͓͉̋͗̓ͪ̎a͕͚͈̿j̦̳̟̐ͮe̺̖͇͙͊̅c̥̤̪͍̤̈́ͮ̏̋t͕̬͕̾o̭̖͓͉̊r̬̞͇̗ͣ͑̃̽y̪̓ ̯̅̄ͣ̌o̭̜̙̩̼̿̊͆͛͂f̙̫̮͚͒̎ ̞̝̻͚͋̽̒t̞͋̀͐r̥̟̲͇̉̾̔ͣ͐ã̝͎͇͚̺̂v͉̈ͬͤe̖̮ͪ̈̓͗l̪̝̥͊ͣ͗

(Engaging Paradigm Inflation: Spontaneous generation of water in spaces formerly occupied by 'Leviathan',

maintaining speed and trajectory of travel)

She flared her power.

Leviathan struck, the fist imploded Aegis chest cavity, there could be no doubt of that, but there was no water echo, no secondary blow that would have reduced the leader of the Brockton Bay Wards as a bloody smear across the wall. The floor shook with the force of the impact, she could feel the impact moving up her legs. 

A momentary triumph, saving Aegis life... and then Leviathan turned, fist still in Aegis' chest, to look at her. 

Its pupils dilated to pinpricks as all four of them fixed on her, and at that moment, she realised just what she had done. The rest of the combatants were still arriving, the Shaker team had lost a few seconds because of her, and if she kept her power up then other reinforcements would struggle to get in.

She dropped her power as Leviathan straightened up, pulling its arm out of Aegis.

What is hard to appreciate about Leviathan is the speed.

It is one thing to see a video of a cheetah sprinting full tilt as a camera follows it, or a falcon diving out of the sun onto a helpless pigeon... It is quite another to see something taller than a house accelerate so fast that you can barely see it, to go from zero to a speed that allows it to sprint across the surface of water in a second. 

A̖̜̭͔͂͌̆ñ̟̟͖̻̊a̱̭̪̺ͥ̈l͕̹̥̥̟͑͌y̩͓̭̣ͦ͊ͫs͖̠͍͖̞͆ͤͣȉ̖͖̦̩n̺̰͕̦̫̋g͍̱͍̮ͥ̔̾ͩͮ ̠̃̐ṗ̘̗̻̥͒̔ͅr̦̾̈̑ͣe̤̤̓v͎̫̅ͫ̊͛i̟̙̟͇̒͌̂͛͊o̻̰̝̰̊͑u̬̲̟̇̑ͪ̒s̼͖ͮ ̱̔̐̒ȃ̗̥͔̀̓ͥ̇n͎͚̯̑̚ḁ͓̘͖̾l̘ͣͩͮ̇̒y̼̜ͮ̏̊s̖̤̔̃̈́i͔̰͙̾̒̾̍ͩs͈̫̝͖͍̾ͪ̂͌̓ ͖͍̠̯̈̌͒ͫ̐ͅe̪̠͗̑ͪn̫͖ͦ̀͂c̦̬̣͉̾̋̍͑̓o͈̰̩̍u̖͎̠͛͂n͖̮̞̥͌̑ͩẗ̥͍́̄ë͚́̉͛̒̋r͙͙͇͛ͦ̏̀ͨs̩̪̿͑ ̦̦̠̣̦͌ẁ̮̙̙i͔͙̯̿ͪ̾t̺̤̦͗͐h̭͉͈̋͗ ̰͙̰ͬ̂͒̽t͇̝ͪ̅ͥͯ̚a͈͈̝͇̲͌ͧͤͪr͎ͬͣg̮̍̄ẽ͕̤̹̣̲́͒t̥̮͖̅:̦̉ͨ̐̾ ̬͉͈͓ͥ'̟ͥ̒̚L͚̜̗̈́̑̄ė͖̠͎̘͚͂̑̽̈v̠̲̙ͬ͛̄ĩ͈̰̤͕̏a̤͋ͫt̟̦͌̍h̫̺̩͔̿ͨ́̎a̳͌ͪ̈́̚n͖̖̼̯̂ͧ̋͌͐'̝̆̐̋̂ͅ

(Analysing previous analysis encounters with target: 'Leviathan')

̼̝͎͐A̤̞̖̱̮͊̋p̪̩̉ͬ̉̆̓p̱͔̞ͮͤͯ̄l̜̫ͬͨ͆y͉̣̰͐̏́i̙̝̬̳̝ͥ̋n̜̳̞͊̏͛̚g̱͎͖ͩ̎ͨ̆ ͉͙͙͖ͮͬ̒͌f̪ͩ̊ȗ̹͐̓ḷ̞͔̼̼ͥͣ͆l͎ͣ̔ ̟̟͗ͬ̎̇̾c̳̯̰̟ͬͩ̇͌ͮo̝̩̺͒̋́ͫm̥̳̤̻̿̃̔͋ͅb̻̫͌̓ͩ͑a̲̠̪ͯ̀̅̚ṱ̇̌̈ ̹͊̎ͥc̻̳̘͍̐͌ͦ̿a̰ͧͧ̐ͥľ̫͇̏̄͗c̖̔ͩ̆̃́û͚͚͖ͮͦ̀͆l͖̱̥̋ã̪̰t̼͓̪ͪ͑ͅi͚͈̟̭͍̓̎o͔̔ͦn͉̫ͦͧ͂s̰̺͍̑̇ ̠̟͚̱̙̽͑ṫ͎ȍ̖̗̣͂ͩ̄ͯͅ ͍͚̌͆ͭͤḓ̥̜̹̒͑̏r̻͔̀o̜͒̒n̤̩̟͖̒̎ͤ̉͂e̦̊

(Applying full combat calculations to drone)

Taylor had watched hundreds of hours of fights against the Endbringer’s, she had seen this exact attack pattern before---

She angled her body, a thousand calculations performed in the span of the half-second available to just about predict and move herself out of the way of the hand that came for her, the claws almost grazing her.

And then---

Immediately she leapt to the side as another stab came her way, the tail retracting attempting to finish the job as the Endbringer’s momentum carried it past her, an insurance policy on the monstrosities part to increase the chances of success. People fell for thinking they had dodged the beast's attack and either made to act or were not fast enough to avoid the second, deadly blow.

Aegis was picking himself up, a hole practically going straight through him. Would he even be able to stand up with that degree of damage? Wait no, he was flying upright as the other combatants were arriving rapidly, catching up with the frontline, everything had happened in just seconds yet with the speed her brain was having to move---

Soon Alexandria or Eidolon would arrive and she and Sophia could make their escape, right now, turning to run was just making sure that they died unable to see it coming. As it was, Sophia had roughly pushed Gloriana into the stairwell, hauling her up in a fireman’s life and away. 

Leviathan skidded in place with a frankly impressive turn at the tail end of its momentum, its water had returned now that she had stopped using her power, and it was still focusing on her. What was to come next, she could see a dozen possibilities based on its previous actions.

It brought its arm back, fist clenching, it did not telegraph its movements this much in the videos, what was it going to do, was it preparing a feint or---

She had no idea; she didn't have data for this!

She prepared to move, instinctively, to dodge whatever was to come, tensing up ready to do so.

Leviathans arm less moved then teleported from pulled back to fully outstretched, and in a fraction of a second the water echo was doing the same. 

Legend had pointed out that water moving at speed was like concrete, she had stopped moving for just a second and Leviathan had perfectly coincided the attack for the moment she did so.

She only had time to bring up her arm, preparing to take the blow, the only thing she could do as the mass of water crashed into her in the span of just an instant. Fingers snapped off under the impact and becoming new projectiles carried by the water that struck and shattered her visor even as the full force of the water transferred its momentum to her.

Her body adapted to redistribute her essential functions through her body via Aegis power, as it recalled other powers in an attempt to survive. She calculated every possible movement to mitigate the blow that she should have seen coming, the sensation of flying through the air made itself known.

E̪ͬ̐͂̐̏ň̲̣̻̥ͯ̑g̥̘ͥa̱͍̰ͥg͖̖̹̳̃ȉ͙̪̭͙̃̚n̖̠̮̻̋ͨ̽̾̔g͖̿ ͈̦͉̠̬ͥ͌̑ͬ̓R̰ͬḕ̲̝̒ͧv͙̗͎͖̜̉̔͗ò̬͚͎̦̲l̝̼̯̝͍̋ͩͧu̺̮͎̇͆t̜͈̾̈́i̠ͣͫ͆͌o̥͇̫ͫ̊̽̃ṇ̰͙͓͂ͤ̍ͥ ͕̟̖̐̈́̈́ͨW̗̐́͆ͬ͌e̥͊̆̋̽̔b̮͐̃̾ ̳͓ͮ̈́c̥͚̫͂a̪͙ͧ͂͂p͔͕̋͗ͭ̏ͅạ̹̬ͩc̞̟̭͈̈́̈̒̆̽ĩ̗̳͙ͪͪͫ̀ẗ̪̩͇́͆y̪̖̗ͩ̍̽̿ͅ.͈̣̝̗͆̑͊ ͍̉́D̟̫͎̲̈ͮ͛̉̂ḛ͇͕̮ͧ̌ͅp͓͚̣͕̒̓ͥͮl̯̉ͤo̹̱̹̬͔ͮ̔̿ͣ͑y̺͎̪̽̉̈ͥ͑i̱͖̽ͨ͛̈n̳̫̥͉̞͗̏̓ğ̺̘͖̘̄ͦ̆ͯ ͈̘̜̮̂̅̔́͑r̯̫͍̪͈̊̉̓̐̓e̖̼͓̞ͫͅv̞̲͓ͧ̓ͣ͋o̯̜̠͉ͭl̟̺ͨ̇u̮̙̳̯͐̽̓ț̪̳̳̾̓ḯ͔̮̘̠̖ͮ̈́̌o̻̜͉̫ͫ͗̔͊ň̠͇̖̹͂̔ͮ ͕͌ͤw̥ͪ̇̄ė͈̮̾ḃ͚́ͯ̐ ̱̩̮̎t͓̖̥̩̋̓ͣ̆o͓͎̳ͦ̒ ͎̤́̎s̰̗͙͙̀ͣ͛ͤ͌l̥͗͆̾̒̅o͙͉͓̼͑̈̒ẉ̫ͣ̄ ̹̓̋̇d͙͚ͦȅ̫̝͗s̩͙̜͇ͦ̌ͭc̟̙̹̃͋e̟ͧ̒ͯ̽͒n͈̱̲̏t̰͈̜́͌̓ͦͥ

(Engaging Revolution Web capacity. Deploying revolution web to slow descent)

For a few seconds, she was flying through the air yet under the tyranny of the Earth's gravity. Her vision, blurry, saw dozens of strange threads and tendrils that at once extended out from her body, long and so very fine yet strong. They reached out with a mind of their own, grabbing, dragging onto the buildings, slowing her as she flew through the air. 

Why did the threads and tendrils seem so very familiar, almost like---

Her back met the ground and her vision went black, mind crackling with frenzied thoughts she just about heard, alien and strange yet so utterly familiar at this point?

Ṱ̙͈̜̙̗̓h̖̟̩͌͐̓͗̚r̻̟̝͓ͧe̖̹͎̝͇ͦá̩̗͇͈̺̄ͨ̚ẗ͚ͣ ̖̝͓͔̓p̳̈͊͋ͣo̞̪̖̤̠ͥͮͪ͌s͖͚̹͚ͪͨ̀ͥ̄́ḙ͙̭͍̪ͨ̏̑d̞͎͓ͤ ̻͓̲͓̑̍̒b̰̘͐ͭͪ̓y̜͍͊ͅ ̫ͪ̑ͮ̎͆ͬ'̞̼͙ͥ͊͆ͅE̹̐ͨ̅̑͐n͚̾d̜̃̋ͩ̎b̥͎͔̟̫ͯ̔r͇̮͎͉͓̽͆i̙ͫn̯̓̔ͮ̾g̞̺̓ͯe̫̹̘̜̙̼̓̋ͮ̽ͧr̩̊͊'͙̣̞ͫ̊̄ͦ ̼̫͋̄̊̊̍̾s̳̟̻̬͕̆i͉̝̱ͨ̌̄ͮg̮̹͕̅̐̾̌̓̐ṅ͈̪̪f̠̜̙̖̹ͤ̊i͎̜̬̱͔̠͒ͤ̊̅c͓͇͇̃ͅi̹̥͔͗̽̄ͦc͙̤̀̆̈ͬ̈́ả̘͖̤̯̈n̟ͤ̓̒ṭ̣́̇ͫ̓ͬͤ,͎̖̟̱̼ͨͧ ͕̫͋ͣͅp̳̈̌ͭͯ͆r͙̦ͭ́i͚̲̩̭̱̝ͫͣ̎̍ͣo̮̼͖̪͆̔ͬͥͅr͉͉̈́͑ͬ̎ï̫̬̠̹̭̤̔͒̽ṱ͋̑̂̂̚î͖͇̥͕̟̐s̪͚͛͌̽̀ͅͅḙ̪̗̏d̲̻͇͕̑̎͌ͯ̚ ̫̲̣͉̖ͮ̈́́̓ͪD̘͓̱̑r͔͔͂ͤ̇͑o̝̩͕̳ͨ̽ͤ͂̐́n̦̮͓ͥ̿̓̚̚ė̹͓̯̜̩̱͑̏͌.̣̟̱͍́̔ͭ̊̄ ̤͛̒͆P̯̹͍̊ͯ̎̏͂̐o̞͚̱ͣͧ́͐t͇͖̟̪̅ͤͧe̩ͥṅ̬̰͈ͪͦ̎t͈̣͚͂͂͛̌̈͆i͖̳͍̞͚ͨͨ̀̊͆͌á͈̩̘̱ͪ̉̃̉l̰̘̳͗̆ͭ ̞̐ͧ̌͛̚d̪̝̙͈ͮã̼̻̳͗ͭ̒t̞̳̫̞͉͍͑ͤ̍̀a̫̯͉̘͔̣̿ͣ̆ͯ ̜̠͕̝̄̌ͤ̀g͇͓̰̯̙ͪͮͤa̲͉̮͖̲͋ͫ̔ͦi͖͖͓ͮ̔̒n̫̮͛̈́ͅe̻̩̩͍̥ͭd̖ͫͭͧ͊ͅ ͎͛ͦ͊t̖ͬ̏̽̇̍h̞̯͎̘̜́̿ͫͪ̈́ͅr͙͊ͤ̋o͇̹̗ͩͬͭṵ̥͇̣̝̈́g̞̤̟̅͆h̰̥̰̮͔̒ͣ ̻ͯ͗͊a̯͊̌͒̏s̭͔͉͍̘̪ͤͮ̏s̲̤̞̫ͫͧi͓̟͙̞͑̍m̟̫̤̈̔ͨ̅ͪͧi͖̞̋͊ͬ̅ͨl̬̻̳͆̀ͨ̀ͣ̅a̯̙͎̻̱͑̆̈́̐̋ͭt̻̺̥͚̔̀̽i̠̗̖̒ò͈̄n͍̘͙̎ ̹̟ͦǒ̫̣͕̎̃ͅf͕̘̺̙͓̯̄ͮ́ͪ̐̂ ̱̳͖̖ͨͧ̌͆̋̐'̳͕͙̫͓ͫͮ̒E̦̮̥̬͕̼̊ͪn̮͍͇̻͖̞̋̄d͚̯͉̙̪͔ͬ͛͒̑b̦̟͖̳͖͖͊̄͒ͩͩ̚r͓͚̹̯̺͊i̝͔̰͕͖̎͆ͤ̋n̻̰̝̦̒ͅg͍̰̭̰͒ͪͧe̺̝͔̜̔͂ͮ̀r̺͚̹̖̉ ͉̩̱̦̜̂̾ͧ̋ś͙͍̫̝͚̫̌̔̍̑i̬ͯ̾̽͆̇ġ̰͓̮͇̙n͖̗͖̦̹̉̊̄̓i̘̙̘̫̙̞̇ͨͬ̍f̤͉̘̰̤̄ͩ͗̓ͅí͍͈̐͂̍ͯͅc̺̠͔̘͇͋a͉͉̋̍̓ͩ̆n͖̻͉̭ͣͦ͊̂͋̅ͅt͔͚̳̟̜͊

(Threat posed by 'Endbringer' to Drone: Significant. Potential data gained through assimilation of 'Endbringer': Significant)

F̻̥̻̪̺̓ͭū͔̅l̠͐ͨ̎̋l̤͆͌̆̓ ͈̬͇̤ͫ̈r̞͇̞͉͛ͩe͇̎ͯ͗̋s̼̙ͤ̈̐t͔͌o̙̞͛̓ͩ̈́r͚̦̲̤̟̃ͦā̲̭̠̑̏t̯̖̣̬̮̄̓͑̑i͔̹ͣ̄̌ͨo͙͈͖ͪ͂͋n͇̯̳̮̍ͮ͛ͅ ͈̾ͣ̆o̯̦̞̹͌ͫ̍ͣf͖̄ͬ ͈͇̜̇D̯͌r̰͐̒̆͗o͕̮̰̻̪̎͐̄ͧ͊n͚͚̭͙̾ͥ̌̄ė̯̥̘̃͆ͥͮ ͎̹͖̺̉ͦͧͩͅd̦̹̹̖̎̒̌ͬe͚̩̬̪̘̋͐ͨ̇͆e̟ͯͩͥ̒m͖̪̯̠̽̒͛̃e͖̘̎ͨ̀̈d̞͕͔͎͖̈͋̒ ̟̩͆̅l̝̣ͥo̲̳̾w̪͂ͥ͗ͭe̦̫̤͔̦ͯͥr̭̟̳͒ͩͪ̃ͅ ͇̅͋̐p̫͑ͩ̇r͙̼̊i̲̅̇ö̻̠̗̘́ͤ͗̇̉r͚̩̉͐i̝̠͙ͥͩt̫̾̉ͦỳ͉͈̖̞ͪ̑;͍̰̤̣͚̍ ̫͎̋̊̈́d̹̥̅̔a̼̫ͬm͍͖̣̥̞͐̈́ͯa͚͒ͮg͔̠̱͉̫̅͒͋̍ͬe̟͕͕͗͒̅̌̂ ̺̼̗̪ͤ̅n̳̽̌͌̿̚ò͈̤̻̮̘̌̄͋̉n͉̊̍̐̋-̫͖͌̎̐ͨt͍͈̙͖͇͐̈́ͯͤ̈ĕ̗͕̻͂̅r̞͉̳ͯ͊ͣ̇m͉̓͂ͫi̠̺͑n̜̫̲͚̘ͥ̑a̤ͯl͚̬̾͐͒̚ ͓̳̺͔̿̄a̬̝̱̳͋̋̎̍̇n̪͈̯̼͛d͚͊̈́ͫ ͔̗̋ͫ͌c̼̞ͤu̼ͨ͊ṛ̭͇̍ͣͭͪ͌r̖͓͈͛̄̊e͓̦̔ͨ͑̄͆n͓̭͕̤͐ͦ̉ͮ̋t͙̠͉͇̩ͭ̆̇ͮ̚ ̰̼̤̞͊̚l͎͉̩̒ȍ͔͉̞ͤ̈͛͛ͅc͖̦̏͋͂a̹̠̣ͯ̉̃ṯ͖̟͕̺͋͐̚í̫̣ͅo̜̽ͣͥ̚ͅn̻̯̔ͮ͆ ͚͙ͦi͖̼̦͎͂͌̂ͣs̪ͯ́ͅͅ ̟͖̻͚̤͛̉ā͇̯͓̗̔͋̐d͉̙͛̅ͪ͑v͎͙̦̖̞ͥ̋a͎̫̼͒ñ͇̹͕̎t͙̩̬̏ͪͫ̚a͓̟̠̿̇̀g̲͔̺ͥͫ͋ͧ͛e̱ͮ̑o̰̗̭ͣ̈ͯ̒̎ṵ̤̳̠̈̅͆ͨs̻ͯ̽͛̿̉

(Full restoration of Drone deemed lower priority; damage non-terminal and current location is advantageous)

̭̦̖̖ͧ͐͑͂P͕̤̤̩ͭ̌r̥͒e̞͚̒͛ͮ͑͒p͓̥͙̦̰̃̄ͨa͚͓̘̲̤̓ŕ̗̯̰̯i̙̻͎̙͇ͥ͊n̯̖̺̐́ͭ͛g̠̺̻͆̅̇̌́ ̩͖͍ͤͧț̂ͧo͎̫̹̥͂̒̎͛ ̼͖̥̠̳̃ͭ̅̅̚d̘̲̅̓ͨ̈̚e̞ͩ͊p̫͖̜̦̩͗̄͛͑l̺͕̰̊o̭̻͈̾ͨ̉͂y̮̞̏͛̈́̋ ̼͕ͤ̎D͉̑ͬͨ̉͌r̭̩̽̄ͥ̊̃ȏ̤̘͖̫̞̍̃͂ͬn̟̹̠̘̙̿͑̿e̱ͭ̄͂̒s͖͔̘̱̓͒͊ͅ ̖̲̮͙̭̾͑ͧs̜̲̥̤ͫ͌̆é̟̦͈͉ͩc̣̘̱̪̻̏ͨ̈̉̈́o̜̳̗͛n͇͚͕̬̎̏d͔̮͙ͪ̑ͯ̏ͪa͎̻͕ͫ̍r̦̈̎ͬ̂́ỵ̍͌ͣ̍ͅ ̯̬͓̏ͫ̊f͉͂̈́͌̊ͬu͚̘̭̤ͣ̅n̻̐ͮ͛̓c͕͇̻͚͆̾t̖͚͎̳͇͋̌͆i͖͗͗o̹͖̗͑ͪ̄ṅ͉̠͔̯̱̈s̺̿͋̔̽.̖̩̩̗̠͆̾̒̚ ̼̬͔̼̮̐̂P̤ͧr͚̣̥̠͂̾̏̍ͣe̖̖ͥ̉p͉͚̒ǎ̱͙ͭr̦͓͔̝̽̚i̬͚̫̯͊͌n̰̹̰͊̉̊͂̿g̮̞̠͋ͪͣ̚ ̯̫̥̝ͤ́ͫͥD̖̝̞͕ͪͦ͋̋̍r͖̠̗̎͒̉ͣö̺͇n̫̣̬̭̓̉͆͊͂e͍̘̗̚ ̦͍͇͙̭͗̍ͪ̅̏f̼̪̃̏͋ì͎̏͛ň̲̺̮̖̗͛̆̽a̱̞ͦl̯̩̠͚̞̔ͪ̒͗͛i̩͉͕̇̆s̝̲̄͋̾ͨå̘̹̠̦̗͆ṫ̫͔͖̘͚ͧ̓ͫi̗̻̙͙͖̓ͯ͗ͮ͐o̥̭ͮ̇̋ͫn̘̆́̄̍.̣̣̮̝̟̃̉ͣ̈́͂

(Preparing to deploy Drones secondary functions. Preparing Drone finalisation)

P̯̺̝̟̦̻ͯ͊̄͗ͬr̬͖͈̭̝̣͌̾ḙ͉͙̘͓ͯͣ̈̓̌ͅp͔͔̮͉ͬͦͫ̇̄ă̻ͣr̰̊͋ỉ͖̔ͯ̎͂͋n͈̞̘̗̼ͮ́͗g͈̘̟͉͕͍̋̚ ̯̯ͨ͛͛ͧ̈́ẗ̲̩͖́o̜̭͓͚̠ͮ̔́͗ ͍̝̭̩͖͒̇̉ͫ̋ͥh̤̼̹ͬu͚̺̓̄̈́̆̚n̟̼̭͐ͤ̔̓ͥ͛t̠̱̺̗̙͒̍̎̐̚ ̙̇ͬ́͌ͯt̰ͣ͒͛ͪà̦̰͙̘̺̜ͭr̲͊g̗̮̠͕ͧ̒͌̐e͔̥̞̭͋̿͐̄̔t̹̣͛ͧ͗̚:̗͖̞̉ ̫̜̜̎̽̋̄ͩ̍'̳̭̙͍ͥL͖͉̮̙̑̆e͔͖ͭ̏̉͂ͩv̰͔̜̘͉ͦ͆́͌i̯͈̟ͦͫͦ̏͗͐a̘̩̖̯̝̤͒̔̓t̞̤̝̱̠͇ͮ̄ͩh̹̖̩̣̿̂̋̄̈̀a̙̱͕͓̐̿̌̇ͧn̠̮͙̙̰̍ͮ̀͌̑̈'͈ͧ͐̏̂͒

(Preparing to hunt target: 'Leviathan')

Chapter Text

Taylor returned to consciousness with her back partially against a wall, eyes swimming and aware only of pain and the sensation of water lapping up to her waist. She tried to move and her body exploded into pain, she couldn't even twitch her fingers without a wave of lightheadedness hitting. 

Beyond the end of the alleyway into which she had been launched, she could see figures moving past, but had no idea who they were. 

She tried to call out, but her voice was too weak, the thundering of the rain and conflict drowning her out.

Another went past. A flier.

And another.

Why wasn't anyone looking!? Or checking their armbands!

Everything hurt so much.

No, she would be okay, she could heal through this, she had in the past, why was she not healing faster? Or was it the severity, or because she had been unconscious? With Bakuda she had been awake, she had willed herself to endure. Yes, that made sense, she just had to want it.

She just had to l̗̱͖ͣ̂iv̫̟ͨͣe̦̫̮̓.

She tried to push herself up, but her arm creaked dangerously, the crystallised one splintered and cracked and the shoulder of her other utterly broken, just trying to move brought a nauseating wave of pain that had her gasping uncontrollably. Her legs lay broken a few feet away, if she could push the stump closer, they could reattach and heal faster, right? They had before. And yet, the crystal shards just sat there, gleaming at her, unreachable. 

So close.

Just there, mocking her. 

The armband spoke up.

"Next wave incoming. ETA is three minutes."

Three minutes and she would drown, submerged under the tidal wave. 

Please... something, somebody find her, help her up, rea̙̹̽͆ttac̺̺̈́ͯ͋h̹̖ͯ her legs, why was her body not healing properly like before? She could drown when the next tsunami came. 

Please let somebody see her, help her. 

Please help her p̠ͧ̿l͎ͬ̒eaṣ̃e̞̙̾ͧ he̙͓ͭ̉lp---

A̰̯̠͓͚͐̈͌̒͒ͧc̲̽̔ͭ̀̀̌c̤͍̤͓̓̏̌̌͆e͉̼̞̐l̳̓̿̍͛̎e͍͕̭ͪ̈ȓ̜̬̯̳̹̏ͪͅa̱̗͓̜͇ͯ̋ṯ̩̰̱͍̿͗ḭ̭̟͖ͫ̆́͂n̹͚̞̦͕̞ͥͯ̈́̓̏g̬ͪͪ ̰͈͕͕͎͒͑̆͂ͪͦṁ̙̳̻͉̎̾e͙̋ͩ̔ͤt̫̝͓̲͆a͓̘̲̫̎ͅm̪̌̈͛͋̐̋o̱̙͕͉͓̓̐̅̊̆ͬr̦͇̻̥̤̹͒ͨp̹͇̈́ͩͥͣḣ̺̥͓̖ͬͯͯo̝̳̹̺̰̍s͕̳̜͇̺͕ͬ̂î̤̲̹̮̝̎̂ͅș͔̥̪̃ ̤̠ͯ́d͙̤̬̱̳̱͊̉̌̍̃ͦe͚̥̍ͮp͉ͮ̽̑̓ͅl̤̥̟̙͍̬ͦ͊̔ͭo̯̞ͥͨ̚y͕͎͕̭͐ͨͣ͑̓̓m̪̓͊̔̾̂̚ḙ̲͖̗̃ͩ̃̉n̗͉̙͙͌͆̈́̊͊t̜̗̗̆ͪ̾:̭̞̙͈͓̘ͤ͛ͦ͒̅ ͇̫͈̹͑ͬ͂I̟̦̲͓͓͑̿ͮ̂ͯ̉m̩̤̂m͙̳̼̌ͮ͗͑ͅḙ͎͇͍̄̌̌͐͌ͅd͔̥̖̄ͤi͓͎̭͛̓̎̿̚a̙̬̱ͪͭ̇̉t̘̣̞͇͎̓e̼͇̪̭̫̒

(Accelerating metamorphosis deployment: Immediate)

Ō̙̓b̺̆ͯj͕͔̓̚ë͖́ͪc͎ͭ̉t͚ͩi̱̼͂o͉ͯ̅ͅn̘ͪ;͓̳ͨ ̜ͥD̩ͩͅr̠͌ͅo̱ͭͅn̪͎̂̄e̳̅ͅ ̠͐h̉́ͅà̫̰š̞ͣ ͇ͥͬe̲͙͋ẋ͍̌p̝͆ë̯͈́r̮ͬi̜̽͒e̝͇͊ͣn̺ͮc̭̱̓e̥͚̒d͎ͩ̚ ̬͇͗ċ̞̃ͅr̹̓i̦̒t̮̹ͫï̻̝c͚͆a̟̦ͣ͗l̮̜̋ ̙̒͛ḍ̆a̹̳͛m̠̐̽ả͕ͧg͚̠̿ͧe̳̗ͪ ̟̮̾ä͉̪n̪͋d͕̗ͧ̌ ̣́ȉ̼s̺̟̓ͧ ̳̓e̺̍̂x̪ͥ̀p̪̫͛͌e͈ͤ͋r̗͉̄͌i͕ͦe̟͌ͬn͎ͧͤc̘͉ͥ̄i͚̽n̠ͪ͋g̥̈́ ̞ͯ̑c̘͗ô̖̄m̜͐ͤp̳ͮ͑ṙ̦̹͑o̹ͯṁ̳͛i̜͚̍s̗̔̈́i̦̹̒̚ṇͤ̉g͓̹ͯ ̥̈́͊d̖̈i͙͍͐̚s̺̟̓̔t̘̺̏ṛ͚̒̄ë͔̟͐s͙̀s̫̮ͦ

(Objection: Drone has experienced critical damage and is experiencing potentially compromising distress)

R̙͍ͭ͊̓i͎͙̫̖̾̏̆̿s͓̝̠̓̒ͥͮ͑͌k͔̯̰̗̱͇̈ͫͭͩ͑̑ ̬̝̜̾ͮd̯̼͙͍̬̱͆̈͌e̺̼͇̋ͧ̈́ͫe̞͉͍̟͕̬͗̇ͭͭ̍̒m̻̮͈̟̣̃͌ͅe̩̯ͫ͑̂̏̂̚d͈̉̋̃ ͈̜̼̳̦͑ͅa̩̜̳̟̰̒ć̜͇̖͉̥̆̿̋c̟͖͈͓͂̃ͯͦ̔é̮̦̆p̰̼͚̦͈̈͑ͬ̄̒ṯ͒a̪̟̞͚̅ͧ̈́̒̓b̫̲̣̞̗̿͋ͭͥ̎̏l̠̓̈̆̄̄̇ḛ̭̯͖̗ͫ̾̑̿.̮̀Ḋ͉̟̙̘̱͖ͤͥͥͫ̚r̬͍̤̣̪̊͂̂ͦo͍̥̮̟͍̜̊n̮̞̈ͤĕ̺̼͈́̚ ̰̞̲̇͛͐ͣm̗̃ͭ͊̿̽̊e̥͓ͦ̊ṱ̮̖͈̼̄̓a̳̤̥̥̩̋͋ͧ̄m͍̥̪̻͎͌̔ͤͣ͆ͨo̠ͤ̾ͨr̜͉̥̂̎̉̚ͅp̘̗̝͖͎̣̄̅̑ͧ̽ͧh̠̰̼͗̌̇o̠̘̙̠̙̘ͭͮs͔̭̯̝͑ͧi̞̮̿s̘̻͇̯̅ ̳̝̲̫͙ͧ̏ͬp̼͙̙̘̓̉̃r̼̤̬ͨ̈̔͛̓i̬͚͌ͭͤ̋o̫̱͓͎̲ͥ̇̅͑r̬͔̤̐̽̈́ȋ͉̭t̗̼͙̃ÿ̱̙̮́̑̈̎.͓̬͈̙̹̚ ̭̻̙̙̒

(Risk deemed acceptable. Drone metamorphosis priority)

Wait... what was that? She could hear it, like an itching, scratching in the back of her mind? Her bones all ached, no, her body ached suddenly, her eyes darted down at her hand, as little patches of crystal began to bloom and blossom like frost flowers, creeping, frosting over her skin with inorganic matter. 

No. Not over her skin, through it, replacing it from below, her muscles and tissues all ached as she was being crystallised.

"Next wave incoming. ETA is two minutes."

No no no no no---

Not now!

She still had so much more to do!

So much more life to live!

She had fought so hard to make something of her limited life, she had broken loops, she had beaten Bakuda, she had saved lives, this wasn't fair it wasn't fair let her live! 

She couldn't be a statue, trapped underwater in a ruined city, they would never find her, not for years trapped like this! 

Taylor tried to move, but her body was locked in place, the little movement she could manage were those parts of her that did not have bones, which were not crystallising from the inside out. Frantically her eyes moved, she tried to move her jaw but could only manage a few millimetres before it locked in place. 

P̘ͮ̅̌͋̾r̮͗̈́è͓̪̎p̫̼̄͊̆̑ã̙͖̹͈̭ͣr̠͑̂͑ͩḯ̗̿ͪn̺̥̞̜̦̅g̣̯̗ͨ̂͛ͦ̚ ̮̺͈ͦ̽̂ͣf̫̗̅̔o̗̻ͯ̆r͇̯ͦ ͎̬ͫm̞̬̓̓̃ͬẻ̦͚͓̊͗ͭ͐t̫̹͎͈͖̀á̘̟̠͒ͭ̆̚m̼̳͎̼̜͌̄͆̚o̜̪̿͐̇̇͛r͈͔̻̹͋p̦ͮ̍̐̃h̺͒ͦ̇ͬọ̥͖̫ͯ̆̎̎s̘͍̣̙͎ͩ̉͛ͤ̓i̱̬͋͐͊ͦs͈̹͗̽ͫͅ.͙̹͐̋ ͦͯͥͅḊ̺̠̙ͥi͔͕̙̭͆̅̒̔ͯs͉̤̗̒̍ͥg̳̟̐ͩ͗̑͋u̠̹͛ͮ͒ͅͅi̻͙̓ͣ͋̋͂s̰̑̈́ịͦͪn̝ͥ̒̂g̘̈́̎͊̔ͬ ͙̤͙̫̗ͭͮͣ̒̚c̞̜̹̉̃o̠͈̣͙̪ͥ͒̽̾͂m̙̎̉̒m̝͈͕̳̾ù̺͙̙̣̋ͯ̂n̬͖̼̥̦̆͑͆i͕̠̐̃ͤ͐ͅc̣͖̲͚ͪ̌ͩ̐a͉̫̺̩̬͛̅͒̃ͣt̲̠͍ͤ̉̋̚i̦̪͙̚ọ͉̬͛̌̀͋̄n̞̐ͣͯ̈́:͍̮̖̰̎ͣ̀ͅ ͔̚R̯̥̪ͯë̯̙̱̥̟̚d̝̺̜̙̑̏̀ͤ̅u̯͂̂ͪn̗̿̌͊ͣd̙͍͎ͥ̏̄͛̀ầ̼̖͐́̔ñ͓̺̩ͥt̪͓̎͋

(Preparing for metamorphosis. Disguising communication: Redundant)

She heard it.

It was that thing. 

The Oort-Spider.

The stream of chatter, the data, the unrelenting vastness of its thoughts, blasting through her skull as if she had suddenly tuned into a radio station at max volume, beamed directly into her skull. Her eyes swam as she tried to move, tried with everything to force the crystalline statue that her body was becoming, but only a faint sound escaped her throat.

Her eyes were welling up.

The crystal, her body, it was all part of it, they all were, it always had the power to do this, it was just eating them all slowly, but now it wanted to eat her whole all at once. 

They would never find her body, she would be left trapped forever in this alleyway with the Spider screaming within her skull---

"Next wave incoming. ETA is sixty seconds."

Her power, her power would save her right!? Oh god please power do something do something---

P͇̃̋̒͛͒̅r̩̺̬̹̼͑ͯͅẻ̦̥͍͚ͅp̼̀̓ͣͣ͐̊ạ̰͍̖͙̲ͣ̒̂̆͆r͎͓͛ͬ̅i̝̪̰͗̒ͪ̐͂̿n̥͊̊ͪͤg̺̰̒ͨ͒́̎̓ ̫ͣͦͯ̌B̳̼̰̥̬͒͑̓a̭̤̓̋͛̈́̃ͯt͍͕̻̭̆̾͐t̘͙̟̬̆̾ͦ͐ͤl͖͕̟ͥè̤͉̼̞̑͗g̗̥̥̏r̜̟̖͈ͬͤͬͤ̃̿ọ̙̳̺̱͎͆ŭ̜̭͈n͖̘͔̼̲̋̐́ͧ̾̋d̖̙͈̈́̑̔͂ͩ:̹̉̔̈̊́̊ ͎̠̬̻ͨ̿ͫ̑̄ͧd̼̯͕̔̄͌ë͉̤̹͉̲́p͔̩̹̘̩̏ͦ̃l͇̦̘̏̍ͩ͐ͤọ͍̞̉̒y͖̙̽i̳͚̝͕͊ͩ͂̑n̺ͯͩ̑͛̚ͅg̱̤̲͋͌ ̬ͩ͑͑̄̌ͭS̖̹̱̈ͤt͓̙͈͍́̓ͪ͂a͎͉̻͈̙̒̓r͕̠̓͂ͥ͐r̘͍̭͍̠͍͌ͯī̪͙̤͚͎̃̄̐̽̎ͅn̜̦͚̣͔ͬ̀̓̏ͪ̆g͎͉͎ͩ ̱̪̪͈ͬ̑̓͊̀Í͔̦̺͈̰ň̳͉͎͈̭́͗v̗̦̻͉̙ͮͫͅa̮̝͕̟͎͊d͇̺̲ͥ͂͋͛e̬̥̻̻̦̹̎ͨ̓̏̄ͣ.̮ͧ ̹̝̱͔͖̈̌̆ͦ͑ͅR͇̰̭͗̑ͪ̄̋̚a͉͂̐ḍ̓i̥̣̗͇ͪu̱͉̩̦̲͂ͦs͖̭̝̹̥̿:̮̭͎͋͌ ͔̱̱͍̫̯̏̓̐ͤT̪̭ͫͯ̚ḥ̳̘͒ͣ̏ͥ̑ͦr̝̮ͩͦĕ̤͓͖̳̓e̠̘̳͓ͪ͆̀ ̤̗ͫ͛͗̂͒m̤̙̜͇͔͉͊̿i̘͗l̩̮̆͆ͯͮ̃e̙͙ͪś͔̫̟͇̙̓͂.̰̖̳̂̄͒͑ͅ ̼͇̘̑̐̽̽̾L̼͇̼̠̰̦̔̾̊ò͉͇ͮ͆ͭc̦̜̙̒̓͒ͮ̃a̤͕͕̗͈͕͐ͤt̞̤̠̯̙ͦ̍̊̊̌ï͓͙͎̣͖͉̓͗ō̜̑ͧn̲̅̾:͍̹͔̜̗ͫͩ͐ ̪͈̱͉̻͌D͕̱̳̮̦͖ͤͦ̂̚r̜̹̺͇̝̲̄̽̄̃̋̑o̖ͯn̜ͣ̽e̳͇͋̓ͬ͌

(Preparing Battleground: deploying Starring Invade. Radius: Three miles. Location: Drone)

The world stabilised, in a moment, it all became right as her power was activating without her intending it. 

Wait, no... it was never her power, was it? She was just hijacking it, borrowing it. It was the Spider, it was the Spider all along, was she even a cape or just... just a vehicle? No... 

No...

She wasn't...

She was Taylor, she was Taylor.

"Tsunami decreasing in momentum, repeat tsunami is decreasing in momentum." This comment from her armband was likely met with relief for a moment by the majority of the defenders, and then, as if to swing the scale back again, it added. "All Shaker effects appear compromised over the city, all Shakers retreat. Leviathan's hydrokinesis is down."

Of course, with her power up… if it was affecting the tsunami, then it would be compromising what Shakers remained—

"Ordinant, do you copy? Please confirm, do you copy?"

She forced a pitiable sound that was halfway between a scream and a whine, trying to give an indication that she was awake, that she could hear. 

"Priority search and rescue recover Ordinant. Sending location."

Oh, thank the gods---

P̫̱̮̺ͥ͋̋͂r͚̲͎̹͒e̩ͩ͋̌̍̈͑p̼͙̗̻̮͒́͑̊̑̇a̫̞͕͈̗̓̊̊ͦ̎͊r̮̰͈̀̿̑̽ì̟̮̺̣͙ͩͤͤ͌ṉ̻͈͕̞̂̽g̦̍ͅ ̙̙̭ͯ̔b̙̙̜̣ͯȧ̯̱̺̱͙t̫̪̝ͣ̊͐t̠̤͓̺̳͈̓̐̐̽̆l̮̫̰̒e͙͎͉̗ͤ͒͒̚g͓͉͉ͣ̂͑͋̌r̭̝͇ͨ̿̈́o̳̅ụͦͬ͊ͬn͕͚͎͍̊d̞̋:̻̟̮͎͋͒̄ ̫͔͓̦̪͎ͩ̉ͫ̂D͎̞̝̗̪̞̎̏̀̒ḛ̫̭̓ͨ͗̉̎̅ͅp̹͈̠̻̭̗ͮ̒l̪̗͚ͣ̔̐͌ŏ̝̼͓̙̳̠͌ͦ̑ͦ̎y͙͇̞ͩ̂͗i̹̘ͯͮ͛ͤ̋ͭͅn̙̪̟͍̬̽̒ͫ͒g̱̍̅ͥ͐̄ͭ ͇͚̦̼̭̀ͅN̺̪ͥͩͯä͖̖̜̠͖̹́̇ͩ͆̉ẗ̲̟̟͖̞̎̓͋́ͅĩ͓̉̂ṽ̜͍͚ͥẽ̟͇̝̺͕̾ͮ̌̄̽ ͕̗̥̍̃͐t̗̱̻͚͎̒͂͐̈ͪ̿e͙̝͆͛ͭ̌̋r̹ͣͣ͆͐ͮr̝̮̹̭̤̩ͧ͒͋ͬ̑i̲̹͕͇͒̍t̘͕̣̼͖͖ͪͭ̂ͬ̓͐ǒ̩͕͙ͩ̚r̘͕̬̙̙̦ͣ͋̄ͧ̾̇y̻̥ͬ̓̓̆ͮͅ ͉̬̙͚̝͐ͧe̞ͤͦ̏n̯̭̻͐ͥ̎͆̚ͅf͙͊̈́ͫo̘̱͔ͣ̌̂r̗͂̋̔͂c̱͚͈̖̍e͉̜͚̦̱̺̋̇̋͊̾m͖̙̼̔ͪ̓̉́̌ë̥n͕ͣt̜̥̣̒̎̈.̫̬̼͓ͬ͌̈ ̮̱͐D̫̩̰͙̦̉̑̑ͥe̺͖̦̰ͩͧ̉̓p̲̤̺̈̾̋l̖̪͓͈̳͂̇͑́̂̚o͓̚y̮̙̖̥ͤ̆͒ͥ̒ͪm͓͂̈́̐e̗͚ͨ̿̆̈́̎̆n̺̺͎̺̠̅͑t̬͕͓̳ͯ̈ ̩̺͙̺ͫ̅̋ͯ͆ͅc̟̽e͇̬͒͛̓ͬ̔̈n̦̗͚̖̤̋̉̂t̼̫̪ͣͪr̹̥̼͌ͬ̈́͂̏e̝̖̜̺ͤ͛͑:̖̔ͭ̿ͬ ̟̤̜̲̞͐D͔̽͊r̻̽͛̃̐̓o͓̱̾̆n̟͓̜͙̾̅̓͑̾͋e̗͈̰̲͋ͪ

(Preparing battleground: Deploying Native territory enforcement. Deployment centre: Drone)

Just twenty seconds later, somebody moved into view, one of the search and rescue Capes, Taylor had no idea what his name was, but he saw her, was looking for her. Relief flooded through her, a grim sort. Even if she was just a statue, even if she would never move again... at least she could find peace without being trapped underwater forever.

And then the Cape's eyes widened and he took a step back. 

Why was he doing that, help her!

It took her a few moments to notice it.

Around her, from the edges of her body, crystal was spreading, slowly but gaining in speed, the water it made contact with either froze or evaporated the moment it touched it, after all... there is no liquid water in the Oort-Cloud. The air above her shone with a bright aurora, expanding outwards as if the canvas of creation was being burned away to reveal the inky blackness beyond dotted with shining lights. 

Meanwhile, vines of translucent mineral extended and wrapped around her, petals of another variety grew around her as if she were at the centre of some strange and warped inorganic flower.

There were sounds as well, clicking, snapping, singing, all sorts of strange life forms were all around her, sinuous, writhing, articulated or impossible, born from the crystal. 

Unbidden, memories and thoughts returned to her, the instinctual terror she had repressed that ordered her to move, to run for her life to flee like a child back somewhere safe.

The Crystal Valley. She was at the centre of a new Crystal Valley, and it was growing and consuming all it would touch. And there was something else, a large, monstrous thing that was wrapping around the flower surrounding her, a huge, predatory thing, guarding her, protecting her, please somebody destroy it and get her out---

The Cape sent to rescue her stood a moment longer as the crystal encroached closer and closer, and when it reached the edge of the alleyway, he turned and ran, speaking into his arm band. 

No, help her, please---

D̺̤͍̥͈͌i̼̣̲͔̬ͩ̇r͎͂̽̆̚̚e͉̟̹͓͆̾̑ͥ̄ͅc͕̩̠͉̉͂̑ͯ͗t̞̩̞͉͈̍ͯ̐̿̿ī̬ͥ̑ͪͫv̥̦͆̄͋͑́ẽ̙̔̐:̘ͭ ̘̘͂E͎̣̘̻̳ͥn̻̘̟̝̰ͨt͓̣̱̞͉̥ͥͭͬͣͣè͍͉̗̣̮͉̽̈͌r̘̮̦̘̼ͦͭ̇̔ ̣̮͎ͩs̘̹̭̉ͣt̥̰̻ͤä̖̹̗́ͩ̍̒̐́s̤̗̝ͬͮ̒i̫͕̲̿ͭš͔͉͇̟̥̫ͥ̑͑̇̚,̟̼̺̗͙̟͊ͥ͒ ͔̺͆͊ͭ'͕͚̘͕̏ͤ̉ͅD͙͈̞̯̳̙͑ͬ̔͌ͧr̻̝̘̬̮̰͌̔ḛ̥͍̰̤̿ͪͦͥạ̞͖͚ͧͬm͕̥̭̘̗̱̆ͩ͋

(Directive: Enter stasis, 'Dream)

She didn't want to go to sleep, to stop, she had to try she had to try with everything---

A heady wave of exhaustion, the primal urge and desire to just curl up and sleep hit her as hard as any tsunami created by Leviathan. The sound of the distant conflict, the first sounds of confusion and terror at the presence of the rapidly expanding crystal, it was all just white noise in the background, steadily being muffled more and more by both the heady exhaustion and the flower-like cocoon of crystal closing around her. 

It just wanted her to sleep as... whatever happened to the world around her.

Was this what happened to all the others? Did they just sleep forever, until they were broken and shattered and atomised?

It was so hard to fight back, against the hopelessness of it all, against that thing from the stars that had ruined her life.

But she still tried, desperately, to force her eyes to remain open, just a crack, just enough to see the world as she tried with all her might to stay awake, to fight back even if it was all utterly pointless of an endeavour. She didn't want to go to sleep forever, she didn't want to be the one responsible for turning Brockton Bay into Crystal, she had to stay awake and try to hold it back, she had to do anything she could----

R̲ͥe̱͌j̞̏ë̻́c̲͌t̠ͫe̳ͫd̘ͨ ͎ͣr̰̐e̥̐j̜̋e̮̽c͓̃t͚̐ē͚d̺ͧ ̫̓r̩̅e͓͒j͇̿ẽ̳c͇̓t̟͗ē̱d͕ͧ ͩp̦̈l̝ͤe͖ͭã͇s̲̆ḙ̃ ̩̐p͙ͭl̐ͅe̬̓a̞ͫs̮ͧe̖̿ ̳̔d͔͑ǒ̪n͕̎'̳̀t̤͋ ̝ͫl̲ͮe̬͗a͔ͨv̦̑e̲͌ ͔̎m͙̈e͓ͭ ͖ͨa̤͒l͈ͩȯ͓n͖̈e̯͛-͔ͧ-̲̅-̩̿

(Rejected rejected rejected please please don't leave me alone---)

I͕̖̻͈̞̫͆̂͗ͯn̙͎ͮ̄ͬ̍̿͋̇ͭs̟͚̙̖̯͔̲̀i̼̮͔͔͉̩͓ͩ̀ͣ̃̓͗ġ̫̣̹͚̃̊ͫ̇ͪ͒̚ͅn͕̯̒ͮ̐ͣ̓̈́͊i̞̦̩͊͋̎̾f͎̖̮̥͖̈́ͮ̅̌̀͛̌̈́ǐ̘̯̝̲c͍̲̰͇̒̿̓ḁͭͭn̗̒t̰̦͙͓̮͈ͤͧͅ.̩̫͈ͣ̔̍̈́̑ͦ̄

All her efforts were crushed the moment she tried.

The petals of the crystal flower converged and closed with a sound like scraping glass, sealing her into a dark void in which she could not see, could not move, could not hear.

In the face of utter hopelessness, in the face of inevitability, Taylor stopped thinking.

Her eyes closed.

"---Unknown crystal is spreading in the conflict area, all Capes are advised to avoid at all costs---"

"---Crystal is the same as the Crystal Valley---"

"---The Oort-Spider has begun moving towards Brockton Bay, repeat, the Oort-Spider has begun moving towards Brockton Bay. ETA is thirty-four minutes. Begin full evacuation protocols--"

As pandemonium reigned, a redhead took a breath as she emerged from the Endbringer shelter. She gazed upon the chaos surrounding her, at the encroaching, hellish landscape, the familiar trees rapidly growing upwards towards the starry heavens.

That time had come.

Chapter Text

It's time.

The world was turning into crystal.

Already most people had fled, or were fleeing for their lives in the opposite direction; it was not hard to know where was safe, one simply looked at the sky in the distance.

The call to evacuate had come all at once, a sudden panic that had split the uneasy tension that had loomed and dominated the shelter since they had entered it. 'Safe as houses' plenty would say, in truth, it was just a way to get people out of the way of the fight, if an Endbringer really wanted to it could have easily gotten in.

They had all emerged blinking into the sunlight and then seen the encroaching horror.

Her father had taken her hand to tug her along as she faltered.

At that moment, Emma knew what was happening.

Her stomach sank as the realisation struck, that sad yet inevitable knowledge that this was it, that agreed upon moment. 

She pulled her hand from her father’s suddenly, as if she had been jostled, pushed away by somebody else in the panicking crowd.

"Emma!"

Her father's voice, calling out for her. The tide of people was splitting them all up steadily, in just a moment there were two people between them, then four, twelve. She slipped into the seething mass of humanity and turned around. 

People didn't notice her moving through them, they formed small gaps for her subconsciously or perhaps just as a coincidence, as if directed by some unseeable will. She walked and pushed through, mechanical legs carrying her in the opposite direction to the crowd. 

...

From the ground multifaceted spires of crystal rose, some festooned with little delicate life forms and flower-like crystals that sparkled so brilliantly.

Larger crystal 'trees' with segmented trunks as thick as a house stretched into the sky, their leafless branches spreading out. 

The blue of the morning sky, the dark gray clouds of the storm had gone, all of that had been peeled away to reveal an inky blackness festooned with stars, the brilliant arms of the Milky Way galaxy stretching beyond them. To Emma, each one of those brilliant white dots was an eye, a cruel, uncaring thing that stared across the vast distances, always watching even when the sun's light or the clouds hid them away.

Just looking into the place hurt, it was all wrong in its own way, the angles, the glittering. There was no way that anyone could look at it and see a system that made sense to human minds, no matter how much people tried to compare certain lifeforms to trees or flowers.

It was a galactic hell that never should have had a human set foot in it, that should never even be dreamed.

For years this place had been her nightmare, it had haunted her dreams so completely that it had eroded her ability to sleep or look towards the night sky. 

A lot of foundation and concealer went into hiding the bags under her eyes, a lot of energy that she barely had went into putting up her normal front, in seeming like a... well, not quite normal, but a competent, functioning human being that by all rights she should still be. 

It was amazing just how exhausting it can be to pretend to be naive about so much.  

The crystal was advancing. 

She vindictively brought down her foot on a delicate lichen-like crystal as she took her first step into the Valley. 

Her vision was swimming as every instinct screamed at her to get out, as her shoes began to convert. Her legs, so new and so delicately made, would be next. 

Keep going.

In the sky above the teaming stars above her were a million eyes staring down at her apathetically, the sound of distant stars blared in her ears as her shoes crushed delicate crystal mosses and lifeforms. In the corner of her vision, strange creatures moved, sounds like resonating clicking and birdsong mashed together to create a new soundscape that sang and reverberated like hammer strikes inside her skull. 

The universe was huge and it was cruel.

That was the fundamental thing that Emma had realised over the years.

In the face of its vastness all living things were insignificant, tiny. Small. Replaceable. The realisation that nothing in the world cares, the confirmation in the lack of any sort of guiding force in existence, it does things to a person.

Oh, but there was a guide of sorts, wasn't there? It only took actions when it was too late, or when you were pressed up against the wall and desperate, something that used you for its benefit. The Will, as she had come to think of it. What it was the Will of, she had no idea, she didn't even know if it was really alive... for the longest time she wondered if it was the crystal itself, but it persisted even after she got her prosthetics.

She hated it. 

It did not care for her feelings at all, yet without it, she would have been fully crystallised and reduced to atoms by this point. 

She was Crystallisation-patient 001, after all, the metaphorical type specimen for the disease. As far as the PRT knew, she was the first person ever to contract crystallisation. It was a lie, of course, she had been knocked back by the impact that night, but Taylor had remained standing, she was the first. 

"I don't know, I was scared and couldn't move, so the crystal reached me first."

But at the time, the words had leapt to her tongue to be the first. Taylor had been insensate and Emma was the only one who could report on the site closest to the impact. So as the first responders ushered them away, as they asked questions on behalf of the Protectorate task force about what had happened and what they might face... she had lied.

A gentle push, a nudge into the right place. 

The Will, ever with its nudges, its messages, its desires. By crook or by hook, carrot or stick she had no real choice... at least they both had a shared interest; Taylor.

Sweet, depressed Taylor. From the moment she had shyly shown Emma the form for that Summer Camp up in White Mountain National Park their lives had been as intertwined as thread in a ball of yarn, as close as fingers in a fist. No matter what, she had been with her friend since that night. 

She had to. 

The crystallisation had spread faster whenever she was away from Taylor. Whenever Taylor stayed over, Emma would be protected from the bad dreams and alien vistas. 

The Will only took care of Emma so long as Emma took care of Taylor.

It took a little while for Emma to realise that so long as she kept her friend close, the invisible hand that was suddenly directing her life would slow down her fate, and since that moment she had not let go of her. Taylor had been the only thing keeping her alive.

That night, when the Spider landed, it had been Emma who hauled Taylor away from it. Her friend had become as heavy as a sack of potatoes that she had to half-carry half-walk out of this very same crystallised forest, where the territory of the nightmare did not spread. She had fallen, she had lost an arm as well as her legs because Taylor would not walk, but still, she had done it. 

But then, at the edge of the crystal, Emma had looked at her friend. 

Really looked at her.

Emma had stared into her friends’ eyes, and the void had stared back. They were still the eyes of her friend that she knew so well, that looked at her with such bemusement, curiosity and other such things at other times, but now there was something else there. Nestled into the darkness of the pupil, in the centre of that spider web of capillaries and tissues that made up the iris, was something else.

And it had stayed there, always just behind the eyes.

Watching.

Waiting.

All at once after that night Taylor developed an interest, a love, a fascination with the stars, and with it so did her interest in Parahumans as well.

Often Emma would find her sat reading PHO about them, all curled up and comfortable, reading and clicking but not really there. Other little things changed as well, so small that others would not notice, or put down to the trauma of what they had been through.

But Emma knew that it was all the thing that had taken root in her friend’s brain.

And guided along by the Will, she had been able to intercede in the battle to preserve her friend’s humanity.

Nobody else had realised it except Emma, but Taylor was no longer the same person as before that night. Then again, neither was she the Emma she had once been. She used to be so confident, so happy and carefree…

For over a year she had fought this unknown, unwinnable war to save the person she could not live without... both physically and mentally.

Little actions, little motions. 

Things to force Taylor to interact. It would have been easy for her to justify cutting Taylor off, to have a falling out and move on with her abbreviated life.

But doing so would only let that thing get a stronger hold, so Emma had dug in her heels against the thing from the stars, she had dragged Taylor out to go shopping and all the normal things of life to make her continue thinking like a human. It had weighed upon her so, so much... she had had more mental breakdowns than she cared to remember.

But she hadn't given up because Taylor was Taylor, because each little joke, each intimate shared moment together was a moment in which the thing behind Taylor’s eyes was pushed back to the very recesses of her mind.

And as terrible as it sounded, the crystal had bound them together as well. 

Their shared misery had forced them to be open with one another like two normal people could never be, they had shared almost everything. She knew Taylor better than her parents knew one another, and Emma had exploited that to the fullest to keep her best friend human.

She had heard the whispers in the crystal, the alien notes and logic. As her own crystallisation had progressed, she had increasingly heard Taylor's, as if they were resonating in sympathy.

Emma couldn't really be sure that what she had done had made a difference, but she had committed herself to it mind, body and soul.

Around her the valley was only growing more and more hostile to life, the stars were singing.

In the distance there was an explosion, even with this hellish landscape the battle with Leviathan continued.

A human hand stretched from the crystal floor, the rest of the body covered in growths and tiny crystalline creatures with too many heads. Had that person been dead before the valley appeared, or had they fallen to the ground and, unable to escape, been crystallised in place? Were they still alive, their minds trapped forever?

Emma brought down her foot on where the body would be, putting all her force into her step. 

The valley quaked under her blow, the body shattered and crumbled far more than it should, it became nothing but dust. It was a kindness. 

Emma was not a Parahuman, but she was always exactly as strong and as fast as she needed to be to do what the Will wanted.

The crystallisation was at her knees now. 

The mechanisms of her legs were not biological, by all means they should be seizing up and locking in place, and yet they kept moving.

Left.

She did not need to know where she was going, the Will would bring her to Taylor anyway, just as it always had in the past. 

A nightmarish creature, a crystal worm with jaws as long as a car and as sharp as a knife, with a body as thick as a train carriage, barrelled past, ignoring her. Other creatures were going as well, the forest was increasingly waking up as the local life forms all headed in the same direction. 

Towards Leviathan.

Yes, thank you there.

She didn't care about Leviathan.

Let the beasts of the Valley put themselves to a good use by throwing themselves at the Endbringer for all she cared, the only thing of any worth or value lay at the centre of this all.

It was inconspicuous really, the alleyway in which she found Taylor.

All was crystal, the walls of the two apartment buildings either side were covered in vines and creepers, strange creatures fluttered through the air and there at the end was a closed-up flower of brilliant crystal. There were no leaves, but its roots were sunk into the ground and the concrete, and from within it shone a brilliant light.

It would be pretty, it would almost be beautiful were it not for the thing that was coiled around the flower, a creature straight out of one’s worst nightmare that was all angles that did not make sense, with too many limbs each ending in a different spike or weapon or stinger. It turned its five-eyed head towards her in a sudden, jerking motion, it made no sound as it barrelled down the alleyway towards her, the guardian of Taylor.

It made no sound of pain when she ripped its limbs off, as she moved too fast and followed the Will's direction to avoid the monstrosities own attempts to strike her. 

She had never had self-defence or martial arts training, but when you were being directed by something so unutterably vast, what did it matter? 

In moments and a blur of motion, it was over.

She forced her legs to move to the flower, she reached up with a mechanical hand and ripped off the first petal, each of which was easily the size of a door. Upon hitting the ground, it shattered like glass. 

Another petal, peeling back the layers that surrounded her target. 

Curled up in the flower was a thing.

Its left side was changing faster than the right, its face was half-and-half. The left side was a blank, alien mask with long spurs extending outwards and long tendrils, the half was human and at rest, the solitary eye closed and looking so very peaceful even as it was eroded away, warped and changed into something else. The left arm was thinner, terminating in a long spike reminiscent of a praying mantis and from its waist were two long, spiked limbs even as other, new ones were growing out alongside. The outfit the half-person had worn was damaged and pierced in places, the helmet and visor utterly broken apart and laying beside her. 

A dozen green eyes on the alien side of her friend's face focused on Emma as she stood there, all staring with alien intelligence that she could not even begin to contemplate.

"... Tay."

When she took the final step up onto the flower, now devoid of petals, her legs were stiff, moving was hard, the crystallisation had almost reached her lower spine now.

Gritting her teeth, she forced her body to move, breaking her feet out of the grasping crystal and moving to her knees to be roughly on the same level as her friend. Even if she got paralysed, in place like this, she would still be able to reach Taylor.

Emma had faced down the knowledge that she would lose her life to the crystal a long time ago, and for a moment she had been safe, she had been cured.

Now she was throwing it all away.

"Tay! Tay!" she shouted, increasingly loud, and yet her friend still sat there, sleeping as she was consumed.

Emma gripped her friends’ shoulders and shook her. 

She called, she pleaded and she begged like she had in the past to wake Taylor from her fugues. and yet there was nothing. Her own crystallisation was speeding up as well, even as the Will fought back and did its all to slow the condition.

Ah... so she had attracted the attention of the Valley… of the Spider itself, perhaps? 

She could once again feel alien thoughts and impulses that transmitted through the crystal.

This was not working.

"Tay!" she practically screamed down, as if trying to transmit the name through the crystal that was once more linking them together.

The crystal was a bond of some level between them, the more she crystallised, the more she could feel it again. The prosthetic limbs had spared her from the crystallisation, but it had also been a barrier between them on some level, she could hear it again. Taylor was having such a lovely dream…

"T͕͉͑̏å͙͈ͮy̘̌!"

A twitch.

Emma raised a hand and brought it down to slap Taylor---

The human eye opened.

It was brilliant and bright, in a moment Emma saw the full inhumanity behind it even as at once her body felt warm, it was like she was being blasted with fire.

Radiation, she knew it deep down. This place, already hostile to life, was suffused with gamma rays, and so was Taylor now.

Her arm jerked to a stop as silvery threads burst from her friend’s body, from the crystalline hair that fell from the human side of her head. The threads seized her, held her in place, cutting and lacerating crystal and skin.

The solitary pupil dilated as it stared at her.

"T-Taylor, it's me!" she said through the pain even as she pushed against the silver threads.

The eye stared, it was focusing more and more.

With a Herculean effort, Emma pushed with all her might, and then there was a crunching sound. The silver threads cut through it as the mechanical arm broke at the wrist as she lurched forward, losing her balance. The clubbed wrist smacked into the side of Taylor's head, jerking it to the side. The eye refocused at the shock of the impact, for the first time it blinked in confusion as some vague semblance of an expression formed.

"... Ë̹̖́̌͊ͅ...E̠̦̠̊m̭̐'͔͇̳̖͐͐ͦͯͪs̯̥̘ͩ?"

It looked hard to speak like that, with only half a mouth. It sounded wrong as well, Emma had heard it once or twice before, the influence of that thing in her friend’s voice, making it distort and sound like crystals creaking and splintering to create sound.

"Taylor, wake up!"

Realisation dawned on her friend’s face, the eyes widening in abrupt horror.

The crystal was falling off Taylor, the alien face was reshaping itself back to how it was beforehand, even if it was now fully made of crystal. The mantis-like limb was becoming human, the inhuman ones were withering and falling away. 

She was moving, slowly, like one waking up. A bright light flared within Taylor's chest, like a miniature sun or bright star declaring its existence to the world, only to then dim. 

Emma, though, couldn't move.

Her body was set in place. 

Despite herself, Emma gave a bitter chuckle as Taylor finished pushing herself up, glancing past Emma and then focusing back on her. When she spoke up, her voice sounded more normal than before.

"Emma? Where..." Taylor looked around, "the Valley..."

"Yeah..."

"I just... I heard the Spider and..." she looked like she wanted to pause to swallow, and yet her inorganic body had no saliva to do so with. "Emma, I'm not a Parahuman, it was the Spider all along using me---"she was about to work herself up, wasn't she? She had seen this in Taylor before, getting all ahead of herself…

"I know."

"You... know?"

"... I said I would make sure you were fine, didn't I?" she said, her last words to her friend before they split up to enter the Endbringer shelter. 

She forced a smile as the crystal reached her sternum.

The Will wasn't doing anything now, now that she had done her job on its behalf, the nebulous force had disappeared. She had stopped Taylor turning into... whatever she would have become, Emma didn't know, and that was all the Will cared about... if she had fully transformed, would there even have been any humanity left?

And an inhuman Taylor… what would it be capable of, without human morals?

"The Spider's coming, it wants me to..."

Taylor's eyes were unfocused, she was speaking with it. This time, Emma did not interrupt her. 

What would her parents think if they could see this scene, Emma and Taylor, one fully crystallised and the other one just a talking head on a body locked in place?

The world was not fair... but neither was the universe.

"I can hear it, Emma, in my head..." Taylor said, softly, her eyes returning to the moment.

"Force it to fight Leviathan then, make it do something good for once in its miserable life..." she said, an order. "

Between them silence fell for a moment. Taylor was not looking her in the eyes as if ashamed. Emma, on the other hand, could not really look at anything apart from her friend. Were it not for the horror of the situation, Taylor would almost look beautiful as crystal, but not as beautiful as when she was flesh and bone even with that gleaming star in her chest. But Taylor could move, she could live, which is what mattered...

The crystal reached the midpoint of her throat.

Ah... so little time to spend...

"I don't want to crystallise, Taylor."

Her friend looked back at her, and Emma saw the exact moment that realisation struck. Taylor’s mouth opened to object, to refuse—

"Please, Taylor, please... I knew when I did that I wouldn't..." her voice faltered, her throat constricted painfully as the voice box became more and more solid, “...get out of this.”

Taylor jammed her eyes shut as if trying to block out the truth and reality of everything, and then, at once wrapped Emma up in a hug that seemed to convey so much in such a short amount of time. 

There was so much that Emma wanted to say... but she didn't.

She wouldn’t, even if she could any more. 

Instead, she smiled in the arms of the person she loved.

Ȉ̯̫͑̈ͫṇ̺̻̜̊ͮ̿̈̒t͈͊ͨè̺͓͍̊̾r͈͙͈̱͍̽͂̋̈r̺̬̳͊ͦ̈́̓ǘ̙͕̗̬̮͗́ͣp̞͇͙̹͑̏t̞͗ȋ͈͔̏o͚͍̩̟̯͑̾̎n̹̱ͮͯ̇ ̥͓̈̑̑t̻͕̖ͨͦ̊ͧ̓ó̠͖̮ ͉̱͈̈̇m̻ͫ̋e͎̭̺̿̋̋ͦ̊t̟̤͔͉͎ͪͧ͒̅ḁ̞̤̭͆ṃ̰̘̤̪͆̍o̱̜͓͂͑̓r̯̪͐̈̂̈́̂p̹͈̖ͤ̃̒ͯh͕̻ͩͅo̼̲̥̍͑ͬ́̚s̱͖̓ȋ͖̪s̯͍̬ͮͦ͊̚ ̪̭̪̺͐ͮ̈́͛͐t̪̹̺̬ͤͦͯ́ͦe͉͍̊̊͌ͩ̋ͅr̲̬̳̞̦ͤm̝̼ͧ́̐i̦͚͗̓͂͊n͖̲̘̅̄ͅa̖͕̭͆̂t̖̣̍ͩe̼͉̙̒̂ͫd̫̰̼̲ͬ

(Interruption to metamorphosis terminated)

Where once was a person, her arms now gripped nothing but dust, less than dust, her nuclear heart had pulsed for just a moment, a burst to grant the last wish of her friend.

P͚̜̫͉̂͛͛̚ȑ͚̟̟̬͇e͚͛͗̅ͫp͙͙̿̾͐a̝̲̾͐̈́r͗̏ͦͅi̫̟͔̺̓̊́n̠̑̋g̮͉̜̭̐̔̒̽̒ͅ ͉̜̲̤̿̇́̌͑ṫ̻̗o̬͕̗̚ ̘̖̯ͪ̆ͫ̔ͫr͇͋̾ͅe͕̘͕̖̼ͭs̩̜̲̎̔u̬̪̬͉͊̈m̝̀̔̇e͚̩̍ͧ͋ ̭̠̯̃͊D̯̀r̻̗͎̹̣͆o͙͓̜͎̤͊͒ͬ̂̚n͉̦̽̂̅ͯe̹͔͚̖͊ͨ̎ͩ ̫̞͖̭̋ͪ͒m̙̤͆e̩͍̘͂̓ͦṱ̺̟ͧ̽ͅͅa͈̪͚̲̹̓m̺̜̦͑o̬̭͇̩̪ͮ́ͯͥr̤͉̾͗p̭̣͍ͩͫͨh͍̤͑͋̄ͪo̭͙̭ͯ̎̈́̔̋s̪ͧ̊̒̏ï͕̹͇̥̞̉ͫͨ̚s̤̺͉ͬ---

(Preparing to resume metamorphosis---)

R̪͇̝̮̞̣̰̰̹͈͖̘͌ͣ͑̋̓̚E̟̰̞̲̥̣̜ͪͧͮ̊J̠̱̤̲̆͑̔E̜͖̞͇̙̬̫̘̱̎̓͐̌͒ͯ̾̐ͧ̀̊C͕ͨ̓T͇͖͎̲͙̘̝̫͕͎͚̬̔̄ͬ͌̑̋̉͛͑̂̐ͅĒ̝̙͉͉̰̘̠̜̹̹̂͛ͪD̞͖̯̠̝͐̇͆̅ͩ̉̔̑͛ͦͣ̽

Her scream shattered the crystals of the valley around her as she let out every bit of emotion she had been holding back, as she drove her fist into the floor to push herself up and shut down the demands of the Spider with the sheer force of her spite and willpower, overturning it with such force that its demand was drowned out.

She took her first step, then the next, as streams of data filled her mind. Powers she had seen and that she had experienced, all of them coming to her and at her fingertips as she began to run.

Chapter Text

Emma…

Taylor’s feet smashed delicate crystals as she ran, they crunched and cracked easily under her weight. Were she still flesh and blood, the spurs and edges would have pierced her soles.

The mere act of walking here was lethal.

The surrounding air was suffused with radiation and the song of distant stars, the song that had lulled her to sleep for so long, which she had listened to at the heady borderline between sleeping and waking. Gleaming spires and plants of crystal dominated, strange forms and creatures that could never be properly understood due to their thousand-faceted bodies.

Said creatures ignored her, they slithered and swam, crawled and capered around her as she pushed herself ever onwards down the street at a speed faster than a human could run.

Without the sensation of pain and need for oxygen, she could run forever.

So long as the miniature sun within her chest continued to burn, so long as her body drew in hydrogen and other elements, then she could push forward. The limits imposed by her pathetic Human body were gone, and yet her mind reeled with the unrelenting flow of stimulation and information flowing in, both through her own senses and from afar.

All this time...

All along, she was nothing but the eyes of the horror that had crashed upon this planet. Hours at the computer, locked in place. It was not her own fascination, was it? Directions and directives, how many of her own choices had she made in the last year and a half? How many nudges, how many flat-out orders---

She was still her, though. 

Human beings had so many philosophies to cover just the questions that flickered through her head. 

If, piece by piece, you replaced every cell and atom of a person with alien crystal would they still be the same person, so long as they had the same continuity of thought then perhaps, she was still the same as she was before just in a different form, if her personal reality was little different to before, if she still thought that she was Taylor Hebert...

All of those questions were fundamentally insignificant at this moment.

There was little time to ruminate, to think. Even if she could parse through a million points of data in a second and weigh up different theories, she didn't want to think, she didn't want to dwell upon the question of what she was.

She had to act, there was nothing else she could do, if she stopped for a second that she would feel her warmth, would feel the weight against her shoulder and the sound of her voice. 

Emma---

I̤̔n͓̞ͪs͙̝̓͐i͉̦͒g̥ͨͅn̟͒i̙̬̽̂f̦͋ï͈c̘̳̉͌a̭̰͐n̰̟̒͗ț̌

(Insignificant)

S̺̝ͮh͈͇ͬe͙̐ ̬̒w̥͛a̹͗s̰͕͑ ̣̑̆n̤ͤe̙͙͌v̫̟̾ͧe̗̮̔́r̪̭̉ͩ ͈̲̎ǐ̙̞̐n͍ͨͩș̩̏̉i͉̞ͬͯg̬̊ͭn͓̺͋̃i̼ͩf̰̺̈́ͮi̜͈ͮͩc̼̓ḁ̩ͤn̲̾ͮt͇ͫ͗!̝̱͊

(She was never insignificant!)

She snapped back, right against the Spider's statement. 

It had been watching through her eyes, listening through her ears, it had felt her sensations all this time, and it regarded her as nothing, regarded Taylor just as an extension, a tendril... and Emma as less than that. The fundamental humanity of her interactions with the rest of the world, with Emma... it was all just information to be assessed and analysed in the same way a machine would look at a database.

There was a fundamental inability to understand human nature, despite its vast power.

Every second it was analysing, it was weighing things up. It had calculated the probability of forcing her to sleep just now, again.

The sheer gulf between her full capability and that of the Spider was as vast as the void between two stars. Each communication was less so a phrase than an iron cast declaration that was sent reeling through her skull. But, even if she was an ant before a skyscraper, she had to act, she had to do what Emma had told her to do! Not out of obligation to her friend... her... only real friend oh god Emma was gone---but also because it was right! Because if the Spider reached Brockton Bay, then the city was gone.

Nothing could survive the Spiders' arrival… especially with how much had already been ruined and destroyed when it used her as a seed for this new Valley to sprout.

Every street she ran down was consumed and overrun by the Valley, the creeping vines, the vast spires and trees, the mosses and lichens, the lifeforms of the valley sung and fed upon one another. Above her the stars gleamed, there was no ozone layer or magnetosphere to protect anyone within from the solar winds, the same solar winds that the Dark Matter Plankton incorporated into her body fed off. 

Taylor had no doubt that people had been caught by the new Valley

It may already be too late, but she had to try! 

She had to fight Leviathan, she had to bring it to the Oort-Spider, the Spider could destroy it if she couldn't, and that would stop it from coming to the Bay. Right?

It was a desperate hope she clung to, it was something Emma had told her to do, surely if she did that then things would be… no, they would not be much better. But if nothing else, no matter what happened next, whether the Spider crushed her will in an instant and she lost her fundamental humanity, she had to make sure that it did not reach Brockton Bay. 

Her home. Emma’s home.

Her home on this planet, not in the stars that had dominated her dreams for so long.

It was her duty, she was a Hero, and she would cling onto her duty and Emma’s command if it gave her direction right now, a direction that was not the whims of the Spider.

D̬ͮ̽r̥͌ͯ̀ȏ͔̓ͪn̦ͣ̎ͧͅe̼̳ͣ ̼̐ͅi͙̱͌ͤs̺̖͖͐̆̌ ͕͉͎͛̈̊h͍͖͙͐͒ͥẽ͓ͬ͛l͍͚̽̈d̼ͬ̈ ̺̉̂b̭̳͋ͩa̞̯ͫċ̖k̩͓̃̐̂ ̬̾b͚̺͕̑ͩy̳̭͐ ̩̠̱̄̿͋'̹̹̰̑͐̇h̻ͪͨu̦͙̯ͣ̓ͩm̩̭ͯͥa͉̹̤̚n͖͉ͪ ̪̣͖̂m̗̂͑̄o̖͋̾̌r̪̳̫͒͗á̹̜ľ̠̪͚̂̄i̻̫ͮͯ̑ṯͬͥy̮̩ͫ̿̃ ̥̲͖ͪf̻͗̅ṙ̪̲͍ạ̦͖̑̋ṁ͉͌e̜͈̙͑̂̀w̬̄͆o͓͓̬̾̈r̳ͩ̃̚ǩ̪̜̓'̜̝̀̽͛

(Drone is held back by 'human morality framework')

M̤̆a̠ͭx͙̤͑ĭ͔ͩm̝ͧi͚̱͛s̮͈͒i̼͙̍ǹ̲͚ͧg͎̟ͤ ͙̝̃̊c͖͎̽̔o̥̎m̖͗ͩb͙̫ͥ̓a̟̝͋t̼͑ ͕̲́a̐̆ͅb̖͛i̠̜̒ͨḷ͗̓i̱͐ͤt̜ͧy̞̱͌͗ ̲̂p̲ͮ̏r͇̗̾̏i̬̖̾o̗̩̊̂ṙ̟̠ĭ̤͌t͖͉ͫi̙ͧs̹̪ͫė͕d̟̯͂.͈ͮ ͉ͩC̙ͨȗ̩ͬr͕̤̋r͎̯̄ͬẹ͌́n̤̺͗t̻̓̓ ̪̿s͚ͥ̄t̥̪̊̚a̞̣̅̈́t̰̾e̹͊ ͍ͯo͖̪̍͑p̱ͧ̿t̺͔͛͗i͚ͩm̺̏̓i͖̊͆s̩͍͊͑e͔͐d̙̤ͯ ̲͔ͫ͊f̻͋o̦̘̔̃r̞̪̊̅ ̯̅͛n̝̅̔è͇i̮͈͌ͨt͎́ẖͫ̍e͚̥͋r̬͆ ̻͌r̗̲̎ẽ̥c͍ͨ̈o̳̥ͦn͎̖̏͛i͈̮̿̀s̯̽s̖̈́a͉̗ͪ̇n͖̄c̥͙̆̏e̟ͯ̋ ̳̐̋ͅo̭ͣ̐r̼̓́ ͈̄̄c̭̞͐̈́ó̝m͔̲͂̇b͓̬͌â̤̪ͬt͈͌

(Maximising combat ability prioritised. Current state optimised for neither reconnaissance or combat)

So what!

So fucking what!

She could still act, she could still... she could still live like this, even if it was just a puppeted half life. Even if she was just a hunk of rock, she was still alive, she still had her free will! She would fight back every moment for it, she would scream and shout and have it ripped from her kicking and screaming. 

Even if it would just take a single moment for the Spider to impose it, even if it was all pointless to try, she would still do it. 

Let her remain as she was, let her try.

Every second, information was coming to her, powers... powers that she had experienced before, that the Spider had analysed through her. She could use them, just if she had the permission to do so.

Even if she was nothing but a Drone, nothing but a hunk of crystal given purpose and mobility by the Spider, let her live and be useful in her own way! She may be utterly reliant on the whims of the Spider to keep her on life support, but that didn't mean that she was not alive in her own right!

The Spider could not be beaten, not by her. It was such a hopeless despair just thinking about it, remembering that night where she saw it crash, when she read, afterwards, about the task force that had been almost completely wiped out.

But that was the point she was trying to make!

The Spider was vast and powerful in its own right, so what was the point of making her a mindless automaton! 

She had been more useful as an independent, thinking mind! 

It was an appeal, a desperate, pathetic one. In just the minute that she had been running from her cocoon, from where she had last held Emma, the Spider could have resumed the metamorphosis at any moment. Instead, it was engaging her in this one-sided, warped approximation of a conversation, her frenzied, desperate thoughts against its own analysis that was more akin to an explosion in her consciousness than any manner of speech.

...

A momentary pause in its communications, and she leapt upon it.

Look at what she had done in the time that it had been looking through her, the time in that it had given her just a tiny fraction of its abilities, look at the ways she had used it and how it was her own choices that had made her useful! The Grey Boy Bubbles! She had been so keen to help, the Spider had not considered them of any great worth and look at all the powers and observations it had been able to make, look at the way that it had increased her capacities to impress her superiors!

With the benefit of the hindsight provided by her new form, her new unrelenting perspective, she could see the web she was caught up in this entire time. 

But it was her small actions, her movements that had caused the web to tremble, that had brought in more metaphorical flies.

Look at Bakuda, look at all the effects she had been exposed to! The Spider could have just piloted her with far greater efficiency than her own actions, but consider everything she had been exposed to in that time and the wealth of information she had provided! Gaze upon them and dare to imagine or simulate what she could do with time and more ability!

Recognise the virtues of her actions! Admire the power of her independence to coincide with its own desires and goals! 

She bombarded the Spider with memories, with experiences in which she had done good, in which her initiative had borne fruit for not just her, but for it as well. She was clutching at straws and she knew it, her body moved but her mind was elsewhere, her legs moved automatically as she threw every little incident she could at the Spider.

Please...

It was a fundamentally human instinct to beg like that, as her thoughts ran in such a frenzy even as her body carried her ever forwards.

Review every action she had taken, everything that she had chosen to do rather than been directed to perform. Consider the randomness of her actions and the benefits that it had brought, not always the most efficient, but fruitful in their own way!

Silence.

Or, the approximation of silence. On the outside, nothing would be apparent. The conversation between herself and that thing took place as swiftly as the speed of thought.

But just a second or two of silence from the Spider was the same as a yawning gulf, the same as a Human taking a moment to consider an action... except that instead of a limited biological intelligence it was an alien monstrosity with the calculating capacity that would outstrip the combined powers of the entirety of mankind.

Oh god, had it always been like this, waiting patiently with these abilities, parsing through every sight, sound, and sensation that she provided it?

D͕̓ͬr͍̜̝̐̃ȍ͎̦n̮̗̂e̬̗ͣs̲̭ͧ̈ ̹͓͈̓̓̅c̩̬̏ù̘̠ͨr̙͚̐̑̋r̭͉̩ͥ̾ȅ̖̻͕ͥͭn̤ͬt̠͇͌̽ͦ ̼ͪͭŝ͈̥̪̄ͭe̗̭ͬl̟ͬf͇̳̾͐̾-̳͚̋d̪̩̪̚i̠͙͐r͙̤ͪ̽ͫe̠ͦc͙̠͌t͔ͮ̌i͎̦ͧ̊v͈̟̄ẽ͇̩̣:̭̃ ̲͍̀͌C̫̬̐ͤo̞͖̞͗̃͐m͈̉̋̋b̦̮̭͂ā͕t̜̟̥ͩ ̖ͪ̀'͖ͮ̂L̞͓͚̓̋e̗̤̠̒̚v̘̠͑ͦ̔ǐ̱ͮa͖̰̥ͥͯt̮̖̬ͩ̇h̖̥ͨ͗̀å̰̤̘̆n͎̰̠͐'͔͇̯̈̓͑ ̪̖̌a͙̎ͨn̥͉̣̈́̓d͎̘͔ͣ͒̚ ̖̝̊̚t̫̠̾e̞͈̦̐r̜̔ͫṃ͊ͬͨĩ̖̋n͉̖͇͌ͯ͌a͚ͥt̮͉͖͐͑e̝ͭͧͨ/̭͇͑̇b̆ͅr͓͉͕̀ͪĩ̲͍̝ͥ͊ň̻ḡ͎̘͊ ͕̜͊ͬt͎ͯo͈̱͑ͮ ͉̃̈ͅ'̭̠ͣ̅O̼͖͈ͫ̎ọ̞̏̿r̲̊ͫt͉̳̲͒ͬ-͖͒ͅȘ͚ͤͬ̂p̱̩̭͂ͪͮi̗̓d̰̏̇e̦̍͒́r̠̔̽͒'̻͇̺ͬ

(Drones current self-directive: Combat 'Leviathan' and terminate/bring to 'Oort-Spider')

It was a statement of her own goal, her desire.

But it could as easily be a question, a demand for confirmation, and she confirmed back with as much energy as she could, with every little mote of anger and passion and rage that she felt. 

Even if she loathed the Spider with every ounce of her being, even if the crystallisation had taken Emma away from her... Emma had still given her life so that Taylor could have this opportunity to live, even if it required her to do the superhuman that she would attempt with everything she had.

Let her prove her own worth! Let her do what the Spider needed and make every attempt, there was nothing to lose, right!? 

T̖̯̞ͤi̮̟͎̍͐m̯̭͖ͦ̽ͥe̯͖̋ ͚̄ͣͪu͇͛n̠̤̿̈́̋t̰͕̜͌i͙̪͍ͤl̰͑ͦ ̗̯̄̄̆a͇̤ͫr̲͂͂r͔̼͇̄̀̓i̩͍̔ͤͦv̩̿̃a̜̓ͯ̑l͖̠̦̄̄ ͖͛̅(̰̓̔͆H̘͙ͭͧ̒ò̙̟̋̃s͈̠̍͑̔t̼̼̗͊ ̖̖͉ͮͭ̍t͔̺ͬ͛̚ḭ̤̚m̭ͪͨ̌e̯͚̰ͭ̿̑ ̖̩̭ͨ͆f͓̥̉̾r̗̄͛ạ͒m̜̮̥ͭͫ̍ë̮̣̼́)̖͔͐̉:̫̯̆ͨ͌ ͖̏̇̈7̗̯͙ͮ.͉̒̚1̳͉́͒9̘ͫ3̮̅̾2̥ͫͥ8̩̏ͤͯ3͇͈̇͑1͇̜̓̽ m̩̞͛ḯ͓̱̼ͭ͑n̳ͤu͚̽͑̽t͇ͫe̹ͯ̃s̤̹̑

(Time until arrival (Host time frame)) 7.1932831 'minutes')

D͔̔r̮̟ͮ̐o͕ͫn̘̍ḙͦ̎ ̣̲͗m̑ͅe̗͛̒ț̎a͖͛m̪̠ͩ̋ö͓ͫr̲ͤͩp͕̮̏͋h̼̮̍ọ̙͑ṣ̠͛̅i̫̼͒ͧs͓̐ ̺̿w̝̅̚ḯ̙̝̑l͇͔ͮl̙̖ͪ̈ ̖̱͛ḃ̳̲ͦe͉̋ ͍͈̽̍s͕͚ͤͮũ͈s͔̤̎p̱̐ͧe͉̱ͤṇ̒ḓ̏ͩë̱̪̿d͕͛ ͓ͮ̄u̬̼̍ṗ͇̖̈́o̠͓ͥn̫̚ͅ ͕̥ͫd̞͛̒r̗̓̃o̠͑̚n̻ͦ͆ë̙̓ ̥ͥs̩̀u̲͕ͮͧc̘̋c̩ͬë͙͍́̾s̝̟̉̉s͇̓̈.̜̎ ̣̊D̝͋̏r̭͙̐ŏ̮̐n̘̏ͦe̦̋ ̱̥ͨ̽m̥̭͑͑ȇ̪̎t͉̃a̙̾̚m̞͎̄̌o̮̟͐ͬr̳̃ͫp͙͎̈́̆h͔͌̓o̬̼̓s͙̔ī̫ṡ̘̝̈́ ̮ͥw͉̋̈́i̯͓ͨl̠͋ͨl̖ͯͅ ̪͛p͔̓̽r͓͕ͮ̔o̗͉̿c̳͛ẽ̘ē͓d̩͌ ̣̩̓̓u͓ͪ͋p͖͈ͫ̚o̹̙̓n͇̖̈́ͫ ̩̞̑d̝͖ͫ́r͇̔̄i͉̎̅ǒ̮̝̓n͖̓e͉͕͋̏ ͔̚ͅf̲ͣa̩ͦi̯̞͗ḽ̙̎u͉ͩř̟̈́ĕ̟͈

(Drone metamorphosis will be suspended upon drone success. Drone metamorphosis will proceed upon drone failure)

E̦͍͇ͧ̊̐ṅ̖̩͈̐ḡ̥̯a̔̿ͅg̠͔ͭͣḯ̦̞̝ͤn͚̲̥͑g̞̗͓͐̋ ͉̻̻̃ͭc͕ͮ͌ȁ̘̃p͇̖̬̊́a̠͙̽̒ċ̟̼̞ͯi̜̺̓̓̓ț̖̻̔ͭi̫̊͒e̲̱̽s͔̞͉͂̃:͓͙̙̈́ ̥̲̓P͍̬̪ͩa̻̟̿͑̃r͎͆̄ā̼̂ḏ͊̚i͍̾̊g̞͗m͔̿ͬ ̤̣͊ͅI̙̽͛̌n̗̂f̦̲̆̋ͪl̪ͯͧ͗ḁ̩̈́t̺̱̙̂i̺͍̇͂o͓͕͖ͬ̋ṉ̋ͦ ̞̱̓a̮ͤͥͬǹ͚ͮa͔̓̈l͖ͯ̓̚y̪̾s̖̲ͣï͇̙̮͒s͉̗̬̐̾̊;̣̻ͧͪ̍ ̺͇̽p̱̔͂ͅͅr̦ͦe̥͌v̖̈́ͦ̒i̫̾̾ö̫́̎̈́u͙̝̫̅s̘̖͋̋ͦl͙ͨ͋y̗̼̓ͮͧ ͖̫ͦ̚o̰͆b̗̞̂s̜̃ͩ͆ȅ͚ͯr̖̔͌v̤ͣe̪ͪ̓d͖̻̚ ̩͛a̩̪̔ͥb̰̤͎̍͋i̞ͥl̥̇ĩ̺̦ͩͧt͖͗̊i͍͚ͤe̮͓̰͌s̠ͮ͐̈́

(Engaging capacities: Paradigm Inflation analysis; previously observed abilities)

Ŕ͔ͅe̹̋s̟̭͑ͭt̮͊r̮͍̂a̝ͧͪi̤̘̍́n̳̖͑ ͖̖ͦc͓ͧ͑a̬̓ͩp̺͈̾̓ạ̎c̝̈ͨi̖͎ͯ͒t̳ͯy̘ͫͭ:̲̥ͤ͂ ̰̳ͬ̓o̪̲̔f̻̞̊̉f͖̘̂é̬̄n̟̱͂ŝ̖i̯ͮv͉̬ͤe͍̟͒̒ ̱͉ͬu͍͑t͎̯̾ȋ͎̯̚l͉̇̽i̪͐̚s̗̤̓a̜͈̽t͉̱̓i͕̤ͨ̅o̖ͧn̝ͨ ̬͍̀ͪȍ̚ͅf̼̪̏̐ ̤ͭf̗̙͂u̲̖͂ŝ̞̼ī̦̩̊o̭ͫn̼ͦͅ ̞̃̓c͈͐͋o̬̲̒ṟ͍͌͌e̖͉̔̍

(Restrain capacity: offensive utilisation of fusion core)

She had seven minutes to either destroy Leviathan, or bring it to the Spider. 

The chance was hers, and with this brief opportunity, she had to achieve the near impossible.

Every power that she had observed on the Spider's behalf, the powers of some of her fellow Wards, of the Gray Boy victims who triggered upon being freed... all of them were being opened up to her to use. Dozens of powers at her fingertips, within moments she was reviewing them, putting them together as she prepared to do war with the Endbringer.

Chapter Text

7 minutes.

Seven minutes to fight and defeat Leviathan or bring it to the Spider.

Dozens of powers and abilities were surging in the forefront of her mind.

She escaped the tyranny of gravity, floating through the air upwards. Aegis' power had a levitation aspect, and the brute aspect was fearsome enough, and yet she could fly faster than he could, she could survive more than he could. So many little calculations in the background, within a moment she was accelerating, learning the dynamics and movement, the inhibitions of the power that her fellow Ward had learned to work around with time and experience.

But she did not have that same time and experience, she had to learn on the fly.

Maximising her survival potential. 

Delegating non-essential parts of her biology to other purposes, releasing the long, silvery threads. 

Revolution Web, the silken threads used by the Spider to entrap prey and assist it in travelling.

A dozen extended and she pulled herself forward, using a combination of her fellow Ward's levitation and the web to manoeuvre, gripping onto one of the vast crystal spires and using the threads to slingshot herself with greater speed into the sky. 

From high above... Brockton Bay looked a mess. 

The furthest outskirts of the city had not been touched by the crystal, but much of it had been consumed by the Valley, the outskirts were not as bad, or at least, the vast, plant-like crystal lifeforms had not begun growing there, but given long enough they would. She could see a small number of flying figures, in the distance there was the wail of sirens of many sorts, even fire. The bay itself had been captured within the valley, transformed into a vast mass of ice with spires of crystal jutting out.

Her eyes darted this way and that.

Where the fuck was Leviathan!

Every second that passed was impossibly precious, another moment in which the chances of her success slipped away.

It was not so easy as following the sounds of conflict, screams and sirens could be heard from across the city, alongside the song of the stars and the various cries and clicks of flora and fauna of the Valley below her. One might think that a giant rampaging monster would be easy to find in a city, but no, not at all. 

It was a shame that her armband was ruined when she hit the ground, she could really have used it right now, it was taking entirely too long to find the Endbringer and her frustration was growing. The Spider was not making any attempts to help or direct her the right way, so she was having to hope to chance into it, or to see Capes flying towards it... but the city was dead... metaphorically. There was not a person on the crystallised streets, what movement there was tended to have multiple body segments and legs. 

Her home was ruined...

4.51 minutes.

Wait

There.

Leviathan.

The Endbringer was standing atop a pile of dead Crystal life forms, shards and broken bodies from the dozens of creatures that had attacked it laying around the City killer. They had been buying time, distracting it, grappling it, ostensibly to make sure the Spider could reach it, but it suited her purposes just as well. The water echo was gone; indeed the only water present was under its feet, which in a moment flash froze or evaporated, only to surge forth anew. 

A desperate way to avoid touching the crystal, constantly creating a barrier between it and the ground.

She had to do this.

R̟̮͛ͦe̙̦͑̓c̦ͬͬa͉͋l̻̇l̗ͨ̓i͍̘ͩn͖̳͊g̰̘͐̎ ̞ͣͩP̤̙̒͗å̩͇r̯ͧa̖ͦ͆d̟̜̍́i̜͔ͬg̖̻͐m̭̲̾ ͇̜͆I̮̘ͯñ͇͇͊f͖͖ͩͥl͓͙ͣâ͖̘t̮̙ͩ͌i̩ͩo̲̿̓ń͔:̹̑̆ ̱̒̀E͙ͦn͖̦͑͗é̻r̳̈́g̖ͭy͉ͣ ͖̺ͤm͇̌a͖̣ͭ͑n͇̦̄̿i͕͊p͙ͭ̚ū̩l͓̋ͤă̟ͧt̠̠̃i̠͕̅̏o̤ͧͫn͍̈́ ̻͉̊f̼̭̿ȯ͉̥̽c͔ͣ͌ụ͕́͗s̲̐͐e̤͌ḍ̩͗ͯ ͓̌͛a̖͌ṛ̝̆o̪̩̽͒u̻͒̔ń̥̝d̘͍ͨ ͎͈̑͊d̩͍͆̋i͍ͭs͉̙͗͂c͍ͫͧ-͎̈́ͨs͕͛h̝̞̊̆a̮̾͒p̥̓e̦͖̽͌d̰̹ͣ ͈̂̐h̦̩̿͛ả͕̱r̼͎͑ͧd͕͐͌-̫̳ͭ̀l̜̏ī͔̝g̯͎͌̐h͉̭̔ť͕ͬ ̥ͯͮȇ͓n̖̂ͮe̺̓͒r͕̭̀g̟ͮy̻̙͛̂ ͙̖͒͌p͎̖̓ͤř͓͉̐o̲̐j̳̤͗e̦͂c̩̠̽̋t̤̋̋i͚͐l̖ͫ̏ě̲s͔̙̋.̻͙ͬ̉ ̩͔ͬC͇̳ͯ̈́a̞͒͛n͙͖̂n̥͌ọ̦ͬt̹͛ ̭̻͛̐ḫ̗̊͐â̮r͙̾͛m̞̙̊̑ ͨͬͅs̝̗̊͑i͚͚̎́l͙̫̒i͔̜ͬc̪ͧả̯t̼ͤ͒e̪͛ͥs̱̀

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: Energy manipulation focused around disc-shaped hard-light energy projectiles. Cannot harm silicates)

The Texan cape she had once watched a video of, it was not an incredible power but---

For an opening barrage it would be fine. Was Leviathan made from silicon? Well, one way to find out. 

In the video, the woman had poor aim and only so much strength with which to throw her discs, but Taylor had no such limitation. She could calculate perfectly well the trajectory, she could take Leviathan by surprise.

R̥̹̈́̔e͔ͫͦc͕̘̉a͇̺̾͗l̥͛̇l̟̝͗̓i͖̿ͮn͇̼̎ͫg̱̱ͪ̽ ̰͒P̟͇͆a̬̮͋̃r͇̃ḁ̻̔͆d͚͚̏ḯ̼g̠̪ͤm͈̓ ̪̹̍I͇ͧn̙̋͐f͈͎͗͊l̺ͫ̂ạͧi̯̹̽t̩̋̂ô̹̞̇ñ̠̥:̌ͨͅ ͚̈́́L̼ͬo̟̗ͦͤc͎͋̔a̪̺͒l̝̀̈́ĭ̩̍s̞̙ͨ̔ë̮́d̬ͭ̏ ̤͇ͮcͣͅö̹͇͒n̜̓͌ͅt̜̲̋ͩr̦̹͗̿ǒ͙̻l̹̫̇ ̰͆o̰̐̐f̥̒ ̦ͦg̻ͭr̝͕ͧa̭ͫ͂v͍ͯi͉ͬ̑ṱ͊̿y̲ͩͮ ̼̂̾

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: Localised control of gravity)

Within moments of her arrival the threads of revolution web were stretching, reaching out to form a barrier around them, a hemisphere of near invisible webbing to keep Leviathan here. The gravity intensified for all but her, delicate crystals shattered under their own weight as she imposed a new reality upon the battlefield, and Leviathan turned just in time to get a light disc to the face. It did very little, and then the true battle began. 

Even with its hydrokinesis compromised and the force of gravity increased by ten times, Leviathan was fast. 

The running along the surface of water trick still worked even if it was just a few millimetres of liquid between its feet and the crystal, that buffer keeping it safe from the effects of crystallisation. It did not even try to attack her, it ran for the revolution web, tearing at the barrier. No point staying here longer than needed.

The light discs had been ineffective.

Change them, give them serration like a saw, spin them rapidly in place. Increase the revolutions, a hundred, a thousand revolutions a minute, throw. Aim for the legs, see if she could cut them off.

The saw dug into the flesh, spinning in place, slowing steadily until it shattered and faded away, it had left a superficial gash. The light discs were not the answer, she discarded them as a potential armament. The Endbringer had ceased trying to break through the web with brute strength, now it leaped into the air---

She increased the gravity further, from ten times to twenty, thirty, fifty---

If she pushed it too far, would it affect her? So far she had been immune, but gravity was not a force you messed with lightly. Leviathan's leap, which would have cleared the wall of silver thread brought it crashing back down to Earth with a deafening crash that sent a tremble through the ground and barely forced it into a kneeling position, and yet it straightened, or straightened as much as the hunched beast could. 

Those eyes focused on her, they had done so earlier on the rooftop, and they did so again now.

In a moment the distance was closed.

Leviathan was too close for the discs---

Adapt.

Her arm broke and was sent flying by the impact as Leviathan caught her with its blow---

Oh no you don't!

Threads of the revolution web burst from her hair, gripping the broken arm within a moment and bringing it back into place where it sealed back into place. 

Trading blows with Leviathan in a flurry of swipes and punches, it hit much harder but with each bit of her that chipped or broke off she brought it back to her and locked it back in place, each fraction of a moment that she made contact she ripped away its vital element, some bit of power or life. She could not physically break Leviathan or rip chunks off it, if Alexandria could not then she certainly couldn't, but she had her own Striker power: Ether Drinker.

Before it was limited to just her crystallised arm... of course, now that made sense, she always felt stronger whenever she used that arm to take on a Parahuman, when she killed that man in Boston, when she faced down Purity's attack head one... but now her entire body was a conduit for the vampiric touch. 

She leapt forward, trying to grapple onto the Endbringer. 

If she could just get a good grip, leech all of its power---

A hammer like blow came straight down and smashed her into the ground, shattering her to pieces, the Endbringer was so quick---

Ȓ͖̰̈́è̦c̫̝ͣa̫̓ͤl̟͉̍̇l̗̘ͬǐ͈̳̈n̼̠ͪg͎͑̓ ̣͐P̱̹͛͛a̭͂̈́r̦ͪ͒a͎̾ḏ̲͋̆i̬̝͆ͤǵ̫m͓͕ͣ ̝͚̌͐I̩͋n̦̊͆f͍̖̑l͚͖ͮǎ̗t̫ͯ͛ï̞͖o͙̳͊n̗͐.̱̄̃ ͍͐A̫̒̂ṋ̚a͚̔̈́ḽ̬͛̇y͍̯ͩṣ̠̂̄ị̖̆s̰̘͛͂:̟̯ͫ ̮͐Ṱ̮́e̪͎̔m̆ͅͅp̟̋o̞̩͗r̫̾a͎͊ͮͅl͔̆ͅ ̮̿r̯͛ê̩̠v̥̑͗e͇̬ͧͮr͚ͯ̎s̳̐i̹̓̓o̩̪͐ṋͧͣ ̞̱̓ͩe̮̳͌f̻̅f̥͎ͨẹ̓č̘͈t͙͆̄ͅ ̯͇̎͌l̘͍ͮi̹̽m͎̌͂i̠̻̎ͭt̖̆́ẹ̯ͦ̅d̥̄ ̘̐t̗ͣo̫̐̓ͅ ͕͇̄w̼̬͋o͍̭̓ŭ̮̆n͉̮ͫ͗d͙ͫs͕͈ͭ ̞̻̆i͍͂͛ṋ͉ͬf̫̀l̯͖͒i̩̜͗ć͓̜̿t̗̣͆́e̘̟ͬd̞͋͌ ̙̳ͭ̅o̼͂n̻͐ͅ ̼̑̋b͇̭̑͐ō̠̗ͣd̪ͯy̩̾

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation. Temporal reversion effect limited to wounds inflicted on body)

The wound time reversal power from the last day of her loop breaking. Her various pieces snapped back into place and she rolled out of the way of the second blow that had been coming, pushing off the ground and back into the air to face Leviathan.

Fine, if lunging for the creature was not an option that she would just grind it down, she would leech every mote of energy and life from it---

3.3891 minutes.

Leviathan was winding up for one huge blow aimed for her head this time---

R̫̍ḛͦc̲͒a͔ͭl̥͐l̜ͣĩ͖ṋ̎g̗̈ ̜̑P͎̿a̠͒r̯̉a͎̒d̥ͬi̤͆ğ͔m̹̃ ̜̍Î͚n̗ͥf͈̋l̝ͣa͔ͪt͍̚i̗̽õ̠n̬̂:̻͐ ͈̇l̼ͮi̞̅m̰̆ǐ̪ṭͫe̬̎d͎ͩ-̟ͫd̞̐u̝̾ř̭ả͎t͚̏i̳ͧo̘̾n̪ͧ ̤̐t̘͑i͎ͣm̦̂e̦̎ ̪̓s̯̓ț̍o̹͂p͈̏ ͉̿r̠͗ě͉s̖ͦt̼ͪr͈̆i̖ͦc͓ͪt̬́e͎ͫd̖̉ ̝ͯt͇͛o̯͗ ̖͌t͔ͪo̟͒t͈ͩa̗͆l̜̾i̳̊t͚̄y̞ͭ ͓ͬo͈ͤf͈̿ ̟̈a̻̓f͕͆f̼ͥē̫c̟̈́ṱͫe̪ͬd̼̉ ̳̆m̜͐a̯̓s͖͐s̭̄

Ǐ̫ṁ͚p͉̑ọ̏s̯̈́îͅn̥̈́ğ̺ ̠̄l̺ͬì͉m̖̏i̱̽t̥̆e̬̾d̹ͧ ̪̑t͕ͥi̖ͯm̬͂e͎̊ ̹̐s̜̃t̖̒ò͖p͈͆ ̱͐t̩̅ȯ͉ ͉̀'͚͐L͕ͧe̹ͪṿͨi͎͋ã̰t̠ͬḥ́a̗͂n̩̐'͎̐,̠̓ ̥̾d̮͆u͚̎r̜̍å̖t̩̐ỉ͎o̮ͮn̩̓:̱ͤ ̤̇f͔̌i̟̓v̘̔e͙̋ ̘́s̪̋e͕̚c̰̈́o̥̒n̟͌d̠̚s̙̽

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: limited-duration time stop restricted to totality of affected mass)

(Imposing limited time stop to 'Leviathan', duration: five seconds)

R̼̖̿e̞͊c̱̓̾ͅā͔̠ḻͭḽ̃̓i͈͉ͣ͊n̖̘ͮg̮͂ ͓͙̅̈́P̗ͣa̖̰͌͋r͓̠͑͑a̹̍ͅd̝̺̆i̲̪͛g̤̽m͔̫̂̋ ̥̋ͦỊ̖͋n̘͐f̳̤ͯl̫̘ͬͫă̹t̲̊i̖̾ō̦ͅṉ̲ͤ̑:̮̔ ̯͕͆S̺̝ͦ̋p̘͉͊o̲͆ͮn̩̙̐ͦt͍̘͊a̜ͭ́n͎ͭẽ̩̱o̯̅u̝ͮͅs͉̤ͫ ̺͆g͉͖̉e̝̭ͨͥn͔̂ͅe̠̻̿̅r̬͊ͭa͓ͣ̐t͍̮̓î̜̚o͍͛n̖̍ ͓͛̽ͅọ̭͐ͨf͚͂̉ ̦͎̚ẅ͕́ͭa̫̯ͨt̝͗e͎̮̽̈́r̟̔ ̌ͅḭ̓̔n̳̖ͫ̄ ͉̾ͥs͕̎̊p̩͇̔a͔̍͌ć͉̿e̱͈̍ṡ̞͈ ̖͈̑̆f̙͂ȍ͕̙r̮̬ͬḿ͔̘ͫe͔̍r̤̫̊ͧl̖ͩy͉ͬ̎ ̳̗ͧ́o͓͖͆c̱̏́c͉ͮ̾u͓̔̚p̥̓ǐ̗̥͒e̥̙̽d̠͉ͤ̇ ̟̝͛̅b͙̍̈́y͍͂ͥ ̼͓ͬ̓H̙̤̽ͯo̺̟ͭs̲ͤt̪̣̒,͕̔̽ ̭̍

m͔̒ͨa̘̟ͧî̹̰̾n̯͖ͣt̗͋a̠̯ͫͤi̖̱͋̄n͉̺̂ͭi̪ͫ͊n̜͉͌g͖̜̔̓ ͖̠ͨ̽ṣ̮̎̆p͖̩̚e͔͆ḙ͓ͯd̺̽̑ͅ ̝̊a̻̒ͧn̗̓d̮ͫ ͙̻̊̄t͚ͣ̓r̮͎̉a̼̟̍̔j̳̻̄̂e̲ͮ̓c͖ͯͥṱ͂͐ͅo͈ͣr͉̱͋ÿ͖̟́ ̘ͫo̥̰͗f̳ͬ ̤͔ͭ̉m̥͊ͩͅo͈̒̂v̝̉ͫẹ̥ͦͮm͓̒ͭͅe̖̩̊̓ǹ͎t͎͇ͤ.̪̈

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: Spontaneous generation of water in spaces formerly occupied by Host, maintaining speed and trajectory of movement)

She punched forward to meet Leviathan's fist, calling its own water echo power into being but immediately freezing the water in place with Clockblocker's power. 

The Endbringer's blow met the immovable, time locked water and the sound of something breaking filled the air as one of the beasts clawed fingers snapped off, within a moment consumed by the crystal of the valley below their feet.

Information surged into her brain, the composition, the makeup of the creature, all provided through the assimilation and digestion of that claw. The outer layers were easier to break into, within moments she was parsing through it, and she could feel the Spider doing so as well, using her for her function as a remote observer---

Reaching out, she froze Leviathan in place as it tried to strike her.

Clockblocker's power, one of the very first that she had been directly exposed to, back when she was undergoing power testing.

The Endbringer was locked in place, fist still extended. 

Five seconds of frozen time.

She jumped back, making distance even as a new power came to mind.

R̘ͮe͎ͦc̲ͮȃ̤l͙̔l̮ͨi͚̅n̗͑g͔ͥ ͍ͤP̘ͤa̳̐r͈̍ȧ̗d̠ͯḭ̌g̻̽m̹ͪ ̗ͧI̠͂n̏ͅf͓͌l͉͑ạ͋t̗̀i̜̒o͇͆n̯̚:̱̒ ̣ͭS̰ͧp͙ͧo͚ͦn̪̅t̞ͦa̞̚n͎̎e̩͗õ̞u͔̔s̳̋ ̺̃g̭͌e̩͑n̖̾ĕ͍r̭ͧȧ̙t̜ͯi̲̅o̭ͭn̮ͣ ̤̒ȏͅf̤͐ ̜ͬf̺̅e̙̔r͔͐ṟ͂o̮̍u̞ͫs̪͆ ͎̾s̯̔p̣ͤi̬ͨǩ͙e̺͒s̭͛ ̫̃ḻͮí̘m̪̏i̱̓t̙̐ë͔d͇͌ ̠ͥt̤ͮo̪̒ ͓͊a̳͂ ̩̍o̗͋n̮͂ẹ̇ ̦̊m͖̓e̯̾t̘̾r̩̽e̞͒ ̫͐s̰͂q̲̉ṳͧa̩ͮr̩̋e̲ͭd͇͛ ̞̽á͙r̦̓e̘̿a͖ͫ

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: Spontaneous generation of ferrous spikes limited to a one metre squared area)

Another power from a Gray Boy victim, a rain of iron spikes, sacrificing number for mass and speed the further it was pushed.

She once heard about a theoretical weapon, 'kinetic bombardment' or 'rods from god'.

The power was strict enough, but with the application of additional energy, by altering the composition at the basic level upon its creation... the power was only limited to ferrous material because it was common enough. The spike she created she made into a great pillar of metal, altering its structure, recalling lessons on chemistry and her own research. Tungsten, a spear of solid tungsten that she hung in the air in readiness, and she imposed one-hundred times gravity on it, even if it would only have a moment to affect it.

Coincide the fall with the time stop effect ceasing on Leviathan---

Within a millisecond of the time stop ceasing, the spear fell, smashing into the Endbringer like a falling star and sending a quake through the ground as the crystallised floor of what had once been a road imploded inwards with the force of the blow. Crystalline dust filled the air, billowing outwards and momentarily filling her vision. A moment to let it settle, to see what damage had been done---

A fist came out of nowhere and launched her into a nearby building.

She bounced off it, and not with any dignity at all, only kept in the air by the the levitation, and her eyes snapped to the form of Leviathan standing, having emerged from the crater left behind by the tungsten spear. A great dent had been sunk into the side of its upper body where the spear had impacted, but most importantly---

Leviathan had made contact with the valley’s crystal, she could see it beginning to spread rapidly---

In a swift movement, Leviathan cleaved the crystal from its body, excising it, if it had not then the crystal could have claimed a significant portion of it very quickly, it she could hold Leviathan against the ground, if she could force it in contact with the crystal for long enough than she could fully convert it, defeat it that way. That would have to count, right? 

2.46 minutes

In the moment that she had been bouncing off the wall and in which Leviathan had cleaved the crystal from itself it had charged, she only had a second to prepare for the blow before its fist shattered the wall behind her with the force that it forced her thought it, sending them both through into the darkness of an abandoned car park where the crystal wall. 

R̠̊e̮̎ĉ̦a͈ͥl̫̆l̖͛i͓̓n̲̈́g͇̒ ͙̈́P̗̏ă̱r͚̎a̻ͧd̠̈i̫ͧg̝̀m̟͐ ͚́I̘̿ṇͥf̹̋l̟̂a̪̍t͚ͣi͍̔ọ̎ṅ̲:̟̀ ̼̇E̗ͯč̙h̉ͅo̗ͭĺ̲o̼͐c̼ͭa̬ͪt̖̎i̼̅o̳ͩn̪͑ ̞ͭc̑ͅo̺ͣm̰̿b̻̄i̬̅n̰ͯe͔ͧd̯̔ ̺͆w͖͆i̥ͬt͕̅h̰ͭ ̺͛c͍̉h̥͛i͇̅r̬̀o̤̓p̺̆t̝ͨe̥ͯr͉͋a̻͆n̙͊ ̳̑b̩ͤi̦̔ọ̇l̗̅o̱̍g̣͑y̼̍

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: Echolocation combined with chiropteran biology)

Screw the bat biology part, she just needed the echolocation!

The air was filled with impacts and the clicks between the two of them as Taylor switched over to the new sense. It was like seeing in a dozen pictures a second, a world in sequential snapshots.

Without its tsunamis and only limited access to its hydrokinesis that it had to fight every second to retain, the Endbringer was a very different foe to what she had faced on the rooftop just half an hour ago.

In the near total darkness their battle continued, she did not have a plan right now, the slugging match between them, her ether drinker enabled fists and Leviathans own bulk and water echo going head-to-head, her own refusal to be shattered into pieces versus the Endbringers toughness and mass. The Endbringer had to have a brain or something somewhere, right? It had been a question since the first day that they had first appeared, what part of an Endbringer did you need to destroy to put it down?

Think Taylor think---

There was barely a moment to do so as she defended herself and lashed out right back at the Endbringer.

But she needed a strategy, needed a power combination with what she had. The gravity accelerated Tungsten spear combined with Clockblocker's time stop had been the most successful so far, but all it had really done was leave a wound, and not crippling one either. Her Ether Drinker was draining it and providing her with further strength over time but the moment of her blows was only a moment at a time, another to take a small bite of a gigantic pie, her attempts to use her gravity control to crush it into a pulp had not worked, she could only push it so far after all, but was that a hard limit or just her own weariness of being crushed into dust?

Moving this way and that, ripping more and more of the Endbringer's energy away even as she drew more from her nuclear heart to keep up with the amount of damage she was having to repair. She was being broken and cracked as quickly as she was putting herself back together.

The car park echoed with the sounds of their fight, dust was flying everywhere, even if she could not see it, she could feel it against her skin. For a creature as tall as Leviathan, it was surprisingly capable of fighting in a confined space, dropping to quadrupedal and lashing out with claw and tail. 

Using Clockblocker's power to lock Leviathan in place to buy herself time to think, to calculate dozens of potential combinations and ways to employ her arsenal, only to reject 99% of them. Based on what she had observed of Leviathan's toughness and speed, most of them would not work, and freezing Leviathan was doing little.

She had to do this, she had to beat Leviathan! She had to, she had to be faster she had to think of a way to win---

Would trapping it until the Spider arrived count as her victory? 

Or a loss?

A lack of confirmation on the Spider's end was not encouraging, actually, its silence as it observed her efforts was disconcerting in general. She knew for sure that it was watching her every move, every effort and interaction. Judging her? Using the information she was gathering as a way to further hone its own efforts if she could not save herself and defeat the creature. She was running so that the spider could metaphorically walk. 

She reached out and grappled around the Endbringer's neck, getting as firm a grip as she could to maximise contact between them so that the moment the time stop ended, she could leech as much of its energy as physically possible.

Leviathan burst back into movement, a flood of energy filled her---

The tail stabbed, shattering her torso. 

She pulled herself back together just in time for the beast to grab her, to attempt to crush her---

Ṟͨe̲̓c̥ͭa̖ͪl͈̾ĺ̘i̗̊n͉̑g̯ͪ ̠̒P̳̓a̗͒r̺ͪa̖͒d̥ͬi̥ͮg̱̎ṁ̜ ̦͒I̙̚n͖̿f̎ͅḻͦȃ̟t͚̚i̼̎o̳ͮn̯ͮ:̗̑ ̭̌t͙ͥr̩͛a̰ͩn̙̄ś͚m̬͆u̝͋t̖͗e̗ͭd͕ͭ ͈ͭb̲ͭï͕o̬̊l̮͂ǒ̱g̜̈y̬͊ ̘̑i̺͐n̙ͫt̺ͬo͉̚ ̫̂l͓ͩi̪͋q͓͐u̩ͧì̱d͈ͬ ̰̑m͖ͬe̯ͤr̝͋c̙̎u͉̐r̺̎y̱͐.̯́ ̯̊F̻́l̺͊ė̱x̖ͩi̹ͮb͚̎l͚̒e͉ͦ ̬̾a͈ͯr̮ͫm̹̌ȃ̗m͕͛e̠̐n̤ͭt͖ͩ ̯ͮc̙ͭa͖ͮp̟ͫa̤̽c̬ͩi̩͊ẗ̼́y̬ͬ

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: transmuted biology into liquid mercury. Flexible armament capacity)

Her suddenly liquid metal body slid between its claws and arms, even as she directed a tendril of her hair to stab for one of Leviathan's eyes, piercing it, lashing and pulling apart the optical organ.

Leviathan's next strike scattered her newly liquid body, and for a few moments her consciousness was scrambled as she pulled herself back together. 

1.32 minutes

A crashing noise, Leviathan had made a break for it.

Her web could only extend so far---

Leviathan broke through the wall of the parking lot.

She gave chase, taking to the air eyes wide open despite the wind and debris on her face, it was not like her vision was limited by her biology anymore. 

The Endbringer was racing down the streets, towards the sea, and yet even as it ran it was using its tail, stabbing it rapidly to launch spears of water in her direction. They would not kill her, they might be able to break her, but Leviathan was not trying to do that anymore, it was trying to delay her, trying to force her back. 

She calculated their trajectories, she angled her body by inches at a time as she flew along, Starring Invade would remove Leviathan's control over them but it would not stop them from flying forwards, better to avoid then meet head on.

This chase was taking precious time. 

R̼ͧͣė̘̀č͓ͧa̘̐ͫl͎͂l̻̟̐i̤̎͌n͍ͭg̟͓̈ͨ ̲̞ͬP̪͗ͯa̖͗r̞̰̓a̼͚̅d̦̻ͮ̋i̟̒ͮg̣̜̽m͇̑ ͙̲̒̑I͔͍̔͗n̩͗͛f̟ͥl̜͎͐a͍̼͒ͩỉ͓̼ț̓ố̺̬n͓̍:̲ͭ̚ ͙͋̍Ṃ̠̑a͎̓n̹̊̽i̹̪̋ͭp͚ͣ̀ů̬l̗̬ͨͤa̺̼͒̈́t̖͈ͨi̖̠̍̔o͇̗ͩn̬̔ ̯͛͆o̝̽̚f̝͈̓ ͍̹ͮs̠ͤp̹͛̊à̭t̟̘̅i͎̔̅a̗ͭͩl̜̞̒ ̪ͦr͔̰͆e̝̔ḽ̀ã͉͔t̪͈̉ͧi̬͈ͫo̳̿n͈ͦ̽s͈ͯ̑h͓ͬḯ̘̍p̻̯̉͆s͉̖͌.̮͂ ̖̼͑I̤̩̎n͎̣̉c̯̘̏a̘̱ͮp̼͗a͓͚͋b̯͓̚l͓̚e̗͊ ͈̮̚ö̙́f̩̓͆ ͚͋ͭa̟̰͗̾f̮͐f͎͎̌e̜̦̿͛c͙̒t̹̐ͪͅi͖̯͂̈ń͉͆g̘͛ ̲͆͋o͉̠͗r̤̰͋g̱̰̓ͧa̳̙͗͗n̯͛i̳ͦ̚c̞ͦ̐ ͕ͬm̲̼̉a̜͚ͯt̤̲̄̓t̩̖̾e̮̗̊͑ř̝͎̂

(Recalling Paradigm Inflation: Manipulation of spatial relationships. Incapable of affecting organic matter)

Vista's power, she had never directly analysed it herself but the Spider had through her. There was so many ways it could be used that she had been neglecting---

Something was flying close to her, not one of the native lifeforms of the Oort-Cloud, a mech? One of Dragon's, she could not recognise which variant or design, her eyes were glued on the form of Leviathan but the momentary distraction. What did Dragon want!?  

"Ordinant---"

"Get out of my way!"

She didn't have time for Dragon, she didn't have even a second to waste on anything that was not Leviathan. 

"You need---"

This was not a time for her to be taking orders from Humans, what could Dragon possibly know about her current situation!? 

Taylor had to do this, she had to do something, anything! She had to find the magic bullet that could destroy Leviathan, she had to she had to!

She increased the gravity in the vicinity of Dragons mech, dropping it to the ground like a stone as she flew past it. Whatever Dragon, whatever anyone had to say to her could wait until after she had fought for every inch of her humanity, after she had struggled with every atom of her being to avoid the fate that the Spider wanted for her, even that brief interlude was time wasted. Why did people insist on wasting her time with unnecessary things!

Such a human thing to do, to waste their precious time.

Leviathan was ahead, it was trying to sprint for the ocean, trying to get away. Having caused so much ruin and damage and now it fled like a coward, fled like the Endbringers had every time before, oh no no no no you are not getting away you worthless piece of data prey monster.

Leviathan was fast indeed, but Taylor had Vista's power now. 

A rolling conveyor belt of terrain, increasing the distance, forcing Leviathan to fight for every square inch it moved forward even as she shortened her own relative distance.

She prepared another tungsten spear, created a pocket of shortened distance, and launched it.

Leviathan wasn't getting away, after all it had done she would break it into pieces, she would drain the very life from it and devour it whole and force the Spider to acknowledge her, her humanity, the worth of her existence. Leviathan was in the way, it was meaningless beyond as prey to be ripped apart and devoured, it was an enemy of humanity.

The spear hit Leviathan in the back, but it did not fall, it slid in place, momentarily bowed by the impact, but it was enough---

She reached out with her threads, wrapping them around the Endbringers legs, tripping it, forcing it down onto its front against the crystal.

57 seconds.

She leapt onto Leviathan's back, tackling it without regard for how the impact almost made her crack in places, and she threw her Ether Drinker into overdrive, like a tick clinging to the ear of a host she drained the life form Leviathan. It had not worked much before in the car park, but she had been able to rip away a lot of its strength, right?

There had to be some limit to it!

She had to be draining away every little mote of energy, grinding Leviathan down until it would cease moving and would finally die. Then again, Leviathan had enough strength to summon multiple tsunamis, a vast quantity of energy would be required to do that even once let alone twice or more, and there were its other energetic expenditures, did Endbringer's just have some eternal well of strength from which to draw? Did they have some manner of core, like her now?

Leviathan was pushing itself off the ground.

She brought down the effect of gravity to less than one percent or its normal intensity, its attempt to stand launching them into the air with her still clinging on.

Leviathan's tail was stabbing and thrashing, trying to throw her off, it forced its way between them and despite her best attempt to hang on it sent her cartwheeling through the air. Even with this crystal body that went beyond human limits, she was still only so strong, but now they were both floating in the air, rising upwards. 

The front of Leviathan was crystallising, it was uneven in distribution but it was happening, even now it was striking at its own body to sheer off the crystal. 

But...

The crystallisation was only so fast, and it was slowing the deeper down it went into its body. The material was too hard and dense, it was slowing down, perhaps if she had more time then she could fully convert the Endbringer, if she had tried this from the start then there might be some hope of the tactic succeeding. But she had not, why didn't she!

But she couldn't let the Endbringer slow down her efforts!

Binding its limbs, holding it back, doing all she could by cocooning Leviathan with revolution web webbing, binding it to the best of her ability. Her web was probably not as strong as that of the Oort-Spider no doubt, but she had to hold it back, force it to crystallise. She had to think up some way to speed up the process, but her powers was not suited to that, they were such an eclectic mix---

28 seconds. 

With the benefit of altitude, rising above the tops of buildings and into the air she could see the distant glow, the advancing form of the Spider. 

Her tungsten spears, her gravity manipulations, even her Ether Drinker would not be successful in destroying Leviathan in the remaining time she had. She ran the calculations in a moment, even holding Leviathan against the crystal, rolling it over and over to maximise the surface area, it would still take minutes to fully crystalise the Endbringer...

All her methods and efforts were hopeless and stood no chance of success. 

She could not succeed. 

23 seconds.

The spider was half a mile away from the city, ploughing through opposition. Small buildings in the way were not just stepped over but stepped through with how little concern it gave, its mere movement razing all it encountered and leaving only destruction and crystal behind. She could see it, though, the monstrous, multi-limbed figure that held her life in its non-existent hands.

This high in the air, she had uninterrupted sight, no tall buildings in the way.

Leviathan was fighting earnestly in the grip of the Revolution Web to be freed, to the point that the threads were actively cutting into its flesh and the crystal out of desperation. Nanoseconds passed in which her eyes stared past the Endbringer and towards the Spider with a sudden, serene clarity.

She had tried to beat Leviathan, but she could not, not with this little time, even with the crystallisation spreading.

No... there was only one way. She had to cross that distance, she had to bring Leviathan to the Spider even if it would bring her near to that monster, even if on some level it would be to admit her own failure. But there was no choice, it was already moving through the suburbs, every second, every footstep brought it closer and she had spent too long trying to defeat the Endbringer herself. How much damage had the Spider already done to the outside of the city and everything between the Valley and Brockton Bay?

If nothing else, even if she failed, the city came first.

Her gravity control only had a radius of fifty metres, but that was all she needed as Vista's power leapt to the rescue.

She shortened the distance, that mile between herself and the spider became less within a small tunnel of the air as she created a new gravity well, one focused on the Spider itself, pushing it beyond the limits she had allowed before. One hundred two hundred, five hundred, one thousand-times the normal force of gravity. 

With wrenching movement both she and Leviathan were pulled through the air, through the tunnel of shortened distance, falling sideways towards the Oort-Spider.

19 seconds.

Leviathan, with a free arm rained blows down on her in a frenzy of animalistic violence, and she returned it, out of sheer spite even as she lashed out with more webs, securing the Endbringer. She would not let it escape, not a chance not at all oh no, if she was going to do this and throw the two of them at the Oort-Spider then fuck Leviathan. 

Hah, no last-minute escapes this time you aquatic fuck! No more hollowing out the underside of cities and islands, no hydrokinesis!

Her eyes struggled to keep up with the blur of the passing terrain but she felt the ambient radiation spike the closer and closer they grew to the Spider, 

The gravity well ceased suddenly and something gripped her.

A moment later the tangle of limbs, revolution web and crystalised flesh that was Leviathan and Taylor was pulled apart with ease.

The featureless face of the Oort-Spider loomed between them. The glowing blue energy that spilled forth from its head and between the great saucer shaped disk and the spider... mantis-like body was bright enough that if she had organic eyes she would be in pain, if she had a flesh and blood heart, it would have stopped just seeing it up this close. 

Dozens of the luminescent blue tendrils gripped her, moving her out of the way and holding her as the Spider turned its attention towards Leviathan. She was all at once unimportant, out of sight and out of mind.

It was a single movement. 

There was not a moment of waste, there was no excessive force behind it. 

She barely even saw or comprehended exactly what it did, only that it cleaved through the super-dense flesh with such a ridiculous ease. 

And from there it lifted the two pieces, the tendrils moved, pulling apart, assimilating, crystallising the two halves of the Endbringer that had ruined millions of lives, that had flooded entire islands and killed so many people. Taylor watched from above, unable to look away, unable to blink, her eyes taking in the new information, both on her own behalf an on the volition of the Spider. New information streamed into her head, the make up, the composition.

A core?

A decision centre, an energy source---

With the resilience of the Endbringer, her small arsenal of powers never stood a chance of destroying it, she could see that now.

Leviathan ceased to move as it set in place like some manner of monstrous art display, and within a moment it was dropped, its purpose done. The crystallised body of Leviathan broke upon hitting the ground, like a piece of delicate cut glass dropped carelessly by a child upon a stone floor. It was almost casual, if the Spider was human then it would be an almost insulting degree of effortlessness, one that spat on the efforts of mankind over the decades and her own battle.

11 seconds

The Spider counted the time it took to kill Leviathan against her.

D͎͆̐ͥr͎̘͛o̼̣͆ň͎͊ͅe̮̎̔ ̺͓͍̋s̜͈̤͐ͫ̈u̿ͤͮͅc̩̝̩̎̍̋c̥̄͋e̻͋s̻̣̜̔̎s̟̦̜̍ ̘̬ͦͩa̖͂͆c̫̗̏̂h̞͑̓͂i͈͙ͮ̎ͮe͕̘̖ͧ̽̿v̲̲̽ḙ͓ͯ͋ͣd̩̹͗́ ̪͗͒̓w͈ͦi͎̯ͯͪ̑ẗ͉͍̟ͮh̞̱̯͑͗͊ ͎̝ͯ̇m͇͈ͬ̃i̱̲̻͆̌ͦn̰̈ͯi̘̪̻ͫͬm̞̳̻̎̇ä̖͇̯ḷ̟͕ͩ̓ ̤̣ͪ̈r̫͔̫ͧ̽e̜̙̞͒m͎̆͊͋ǎ͕̝̬i͇̞ͩn͔͓̣̾͌͒ḭ̯̞̊̔n͙͆ḡ̤͊͆ ̰̹̹̎͒ͭṱ͎͚͌̂ḭ͖͙ͣ̿͛m̭̤̈ͥe͉̎͑

(Drone success achieved with minimal remaining time)

It was almost petty.

It did not matter, she had done it. Even with seconds to spare. Emma's sacrifice had not been in vain.

She stared back at the blank, featureless approximation of a face.

Even if her emotions were insignificant to it, she put every bit of her spite and vitriol for the destruction it had caused, for how it had ruined her life into the response. Even if it could not properly understand, could only appreciate it in definition or theory she still wanted it to know. The Spider might go back on the agreement, and if so... this would be the last interaction where her free will mattered. 

I̱̊ṋ͐s̺͆i̜͗g̖̎n̰̔i͙͛f͉͛i̠ͦc̳͋ận͈ͤt̪̓.̬̏ ̭͊D͔ͯr͔̓o̞̚n̜ͣe̹ͤ ̝̓s̗̋u͓ͨc̦͒e̫ͯḙ͌d̤̋e̤̚d͉͊ ͓͋a̞ͫc̩̅c̼ͬo̬͐r̙ͬd̺̔i͙͑n͚ͬg̦ͫ ̻̉t̗͐ó͎ ̯̽p̜ͤa͙͆r̬ͦā̹m̮̍e̫̅ṭͧeͯͅr̪̄s͍͂

(Insignificant. Drone succeeded according to parameters)

Its alien logic, its efforts to hold her back from achieving something by restraining her core had not held up against her achievement.

After a long moment, the various tendrils began to unwind from around her, leaving her floating in the air. The Spider turned and began taking a step back in the direction of the Crystal Valley.

C̞͐o͎ͨ̂̉ͫ̀n̥͉̤͗̊ͯt̟ͭ̎̚i̭̎ṉ̝̇̀̾̔ű͓̻̦͉͌̓e̬̫̳̺ͧ̊̂ ̣̫̼̻̋ͤ̏̐͗d͓̼̰͛̒a̻̳͆ͮ̋ͬt͎͓̭ͫa̲͓̿̚ ̹̤̣̗̱̽̊̌ͪ́č̼͎̪̪̙ő̫̖̏̋̈́l͖̳͔͉̝ͣ̿̃l̮̖̖̳̞̓ͩ͛e͇͕̭̖̫͋͌͊ͭͬc͉̗̖ͬ̔̚t̯̤̭̂̆ͅͅị͚̩̭̦̂ȏ͕͔̔n̫̦̻̮̟͒

(Continue data collection)

For a few moments Taylor watched at the Spider began its journey back, floating in the air staring at the monster. She had done it... she had done it for everyone and she had saved the city, right? So why did she feel so...

She lowered herself closer to the ground until she was just a few metres above the crystal, just ten paces from the broken pieces of the being that had once been the fear of cities around the world.

Hugging her knees, she unblinkingly stared at the crystal and the torn canvas of the sky, numb to the world even when the first members of the Protectorate found her.

Chapter Text

Gabriel Coleson had been working for the PRT for eight years.

He was born and bred in the city, a fourth generation Brocktonite and In that time he had seen his fair share of things ranging from the bemusing to the bullshit. Starting off as a humble trooper and later making the lateral move into a desk focused job, spent hours at a desk reviewing and signing paperwork regarding some of the most dangerous Parahumans on the East Coast. He had gotten to know next to every non-Parahuman member of the Brockton Bay PRT in some capacity.

In one hand, he had a tablet for taking notes, in the other, a square bag into which something had been stuffed.

"You have worked with her extensively, Coleson, so you probably stand the best chance of getting answers out of her---"

"If you could establish further rapport with Ordinant---"

"Miss Militia was unsuccessful at getting anything out of her."

All the cold and clinical approaches one would expect of a suddenly escalated situation, the very human need to understand and categorise something new and unknown. Coleson had looked over more than enough threat ratings and speculative plans of action to recognise what was going on, the PRT was desperately trying to establish some manner of framework to deal with the new normal.

"---can you ask her if she is okay?"

That last one had been asked by Vista, who had ambushed him on the way here.

The remnants of the Brockton Bay PRT were a disorganised mess, having been merged with the emergency efforts and teams brought in to handle the situation at the Bay, which had escalated far beyond what anybody could have imagined. He had imagined that the worst-case scenario for the battle two days ago would be the sinking of his home into the ocean, suffering a similar fate to a number of other soft targets chosen by Leviathan over the years.

Somehow, the actual situation was just as bad.

A city that was relatively intact in terms of its structure, but overtaken by an ecosystem so utterly hostile to life that the chances of survival for those that had been caught up within were actively lower than had the Endbringer sunk the city.

The only positive was that since the Endbringer had disappeared, the boundary of the crystallisation had receded by three metres.

The building currently being used as the headquarters for the PRT was on the outskirts of the city. The new building was formerly a large office building constructed by a somewhat ambitious property developer who had not seen the way the economic wind was blowing some ten years ago. It would do as a temporary location, even if it lacked a lot of the security and features that would be preferable. But a selection of Tinkers were working to make it secure.

The two troopers stood to attention as he approached and flashed his ID.

"How is she?"

"No trouble, sir. She mostly just... floats," said the first trooper after a moment. "She asked for a selection of marbles earlier, we had to run it past the higher ups."

"Marbles?"

"Yes sir, one larger one and eight smaller ones."

"And passing it higher up?"

"They were worried she might use it to try and escape, sir."

Coleson reached up and ran a hand down his face, fingers running over the scar from that day in Boston.

Even if he had regained his sight, he had chosen to keep the scar as a lesson.

Resisting the urge to release an irritable sigh, he focused on the trooper's statement. She had been in the room for forty-eight hours now and that line of thought continued to be one at meetings, the notion that she might try to escape when she had made no effort at all to do so. How, exactly, could the PRT stop her from leaving if she wanted to, short of bringing in the big guns? The girl's control over gravity alone could implode the room and allow her to leave, she had been forthcoming about the extent of her new abilities, and frankly it was ludicrous to assume that they could contain her.

She was only here because she wanted to be.

"... Thank you for passing her request up, did she get them?"

"Yes sir, gave them to her myself a few hours ago."

He nodded.

A brief salute later, and the door was opened, allowing him to step through into the mostly empty, square room beyond, setting down the bag beside the door for later.

Ordinant was floating in the air at the centre, curled up in the fetal position in the air with eyes closed, as if asleep. Except, sleeping people did not wear expressions like that.

She looked different.

Well, of course she did, he had briefly scanned the file that had been pushed into his hand on the way, but it was different to see in person. The rather plain hospital gown-like garment she had been given did little to disguise the fact that her entire body was now that smooth, opalescent crystal that before had been her arms and legs. The lights of the room were dim, but that was made up for by the brightness emanating from within her chest, even with cloth and fabric in the way and her relative inactivity; it was almost painful to look in her direction for its shine.

There could be no doubt, were it not for the fact that he had known the girl for months at this point, that he might have immediately assumed that she was a Case-53.

Floating a few feet above her were the marbles that had been mentioned, a large yellow one sat in the centre a few inches above her palm, with other smaller spheres floating around it at uneven speeds. A clear simulation of the solar system. There were other objects floating about the room, a cup, a plate, all of them gently turning over, cartwheeling until they hit a wall, bumped off and continuing in their flight.

"Hello, Ordinant," he greeted, walking closer.

Her head turned, eyes opening a little to reveal globes of crystal flecked with multiple colours yet lacking a pupil that stared unblinkingly back. When she did blink, it almost had a slow, languid quality, as if it was out of some manner of obligation, or remembering that it was something she needed to do.

The lack of blinking and breathing was just the wrong side of uncanny.

"... Coleson..." the crystallised girl said. Her voice sounded much the same as before, if perhaps there was a strange ringing quality that persisted just a moment too long. The way she said it made it sound like it took effort, like when one spoke to a person suffering severe depression, that lagging moment between hearing words and giving some manner of response.

"... I'm glad you are okay."

"It was a little close I must admit, but yes, the PRT building was evacuated before the crystal could reach us."

Her eyes turned downwards. The utterly blank expression transformed into a look of guilt, regret, and anger, one that did not fade quickly.

"... I won't ask if you are alright, Ordinant." She gave one of those long, slow blinks at him. For a moment she was silent, and then, as if with some great effort, she visibly deflated, her altitude dropping an inch or two.

"It's my fault..."

"The city?"

"... Yeah... if I had never been here, perhaps all of this would never have happened."

What do you say to that? For a moment, he let the statement settle. It was already more of a response than Miss Militia or the other agents had gotten out of the girl.

"What happened out there, Ordinant?" he asked, simply, quietly.

"... The spider decided it wanted to consume Leviathan, so it prepared the battlefield... through me. Through my power," each statement had a pause between them, as if she was deciding between each whether she would say it, whether she could trust him. "And then it began... transforming me. The human body is weak. It is not optimised, I don't know what I was going to become but E... Ems..."

Her face contorted, like she wanted to burst into tears, except that there were no tears to come.

What was the name of the redhead that Ordinant had brought with her for the last few loop breaking operations? Her name had been Emma. Another victim of the Oort-Spider Crystallisation, except that the work of Prosthetist had been successful in her case.

"She died to stop it."

"I am so sorry, Ordinant."

He was. He really was.

He had lost enough friends and colleagues over the years.

Coleson gave Ordinant a few minutes to recover, she had curled up more in her fetal position in the air, hugging her legs close and burying her face into her knees. There was so much to unpack there, information that would be parsed over by dozens of thinkers and PRT experts, and none of it was good.

Ordinant had already been attending mandated therapy sessions after the Boston farce, no wonder she was in the state she was... frankly, he was surprised she had said as much to him as she had.

"Would you like for me to leave, Ordinant?" he asked.

"... No," It was mumbled, but carried through the air clearly enough. "If I talk to you now, they might stop sending people to ask me questions, at least you have always been honest with me."

Chapter Text

Interlude: Armsmaster

His bike thrummed under him as he drove along the edge of the Crystal Valley.

The cordon and barricades surrounding the maximum extent edge of the alien ecosystem was a fragile barrier that separated the outskirts of the city from the nightmarish horror that had overtaken the Brockton Bay that he had lived in and served for his life.

Armsmaster looked to the left.

Each building was filled with displaced people, the streets occupied with camps of emergency relief tents in which entire families squeezed themselves. Trucks filled with food and supplies occupied open spaces, dispensing the basics for human survival, an army presence had been rapidly deployed to maintain public order and the city was in a state of martial law.

The city currently had suffered an eighty-nine percent reduction in its habitable structures and space, the crystal was receding but slowly, based on the model rapidly built by Dragon based on both Brockton Bay and other data it would take over a year for the crystal to recede from the city, and that was assuming a steady and continuous rate of decline.

The PRT and local government now had three hundred and fifty thousand or so people to house in just ten percent of the area they had formerly occupied. Electricity and clean water was scarce even with the efforts of PRT Tinkers and the army being brought in. And that was without the gang element as well, the city villains would be leaping upon this opportunity, based on his research these sorts of conditions were ripe to see major expansion as factionalism and resource shortages affected the population.

His hands were now full with dealing with the fallout of all of this, and he had preciously little time to Tinker, the golden opportunity posed by Leviathan had been stolen from him.

He had barely had a chance to test out the Nano-thorn against Leviathan, the opportunity to have all other Capes pull back so that he could test it alongside his predictive combat system was scuppered by the news that the Oort-Spider was moving, and the ease with which the Spider had dealt with Leviathan was almost insulting. It had not even made use of any of the demonstrated abilities from the Protectorate's disastrous first response when it first landed.

Armsmaster looked to the right.

A hellscape of glittering crystal filled with hostile life crowned with a rippling aurora and an expanse of stars beyond.

PRT troopers and Dragon Mechs were placed at regular intervals to maintain the fragile barrier, concrete blocks were being laid down to block the passage of anyone stupid enough to try and get too close. The area above Brockton Bay was a no-fly zone, several news helicopters had, in those first few hours, flown over and attempted to get footage before Dragon and the army had forced them to turn back... and the exposure to atmospheric radiation had not done any of those reporters much good.

This was no time for fooling around.

This wasn't some news opportunity; this was a literal hellscape.

It had to be seen to be understood, you had to stand only a few metres away and feel your own, rational brain struggle to make sense of what you were seeing. You needed to cast a stone into the valley, and watch strange growths like quartz begin to spread over it, or watch some strange crature emerge from a hole to investigate the new object in its territory.

He slowed his bike, bringing it to a stop.

The PRT troopers were stood with their backs to the valley, just metres away from making contact with the fatal crystal. Just a few feet sepparated them from the cordon and the Valley.

Seeing them stand so close to the crystal, a memory came unbidden to mind.

The desperate plea of the surgeon.

'Cut it off cut it off cut it off!'

The man who had been in the middle of attempting to remove Ordinant's arm a second time after it grew back.

He could see the man in his mind's eye, holding his own arm outstretched, eyes filled with a primal terror as the crystal visibly raced up the limb. Everyone had been calling Collin paranoid for carrying a spare halberd around the base, but they had fewer complaints after he saved the man's life through the quick and somewhat brutal amputation he had performed.

It was one thing to know that you worked with a person suffering a condition, but quite another to see the same condition infect and rapidly begin consuming another.

In retrospect, that incident should have highlighted the greater will behind the crystal.

Not just a malignant, creeping infection, but a sentience connected to something greater.

That interaction had given him a healthy respect for the dangers of the material, and when the first warnings from Dragon came from his armband announcing that crystal was spreading throughout the city, he had been one of the first to begin organising the evacuation, taking command, and organising a number of Shapers, including Vista, to facilitate the evacuation.

And now the city was full of people like that... thousands of people either infected with the crystal, or completely converted. He had seen several Parahumans who had come to fight Leviathan mutate and crystallise before his eyes, too slow or unable to escape the Valley's advance.

He shook his head.

And then there was the problem of Ordinant, the Ward who was unwillingly behind this entire situation. Every time he returned to base the topic of what to do with her was omnipresent. Even now, standing beside the safety cordon inspecting its security, there was an update through his comms about the girl.

Barely any change, she had been given a blanket by Agent Coleson and had not emerged from it for thirty-six hours, but had received a visit from Clockblocker and Vista and had shown a very marginal improvement in her mood during it.

He did not have answers.

And that was infuriating.

He had not spoken with her himself, there were others who had worked more closely and knew her better.

That was not say that he had not interacted with her pleasantly in the past. When he was adding improvements and customising the arm that Prostheticist had made she had sat beside him for a portion of his work. Quiet, curious of his work but not interrupting or distracting him.

A lot of their other interacts had been like that, short and quiet, but he could handle that.

He had taken her out one evening for a ride on the back of his bike, it had taken a bit of convincing but the girl had been dying... evne if mercifully that had not happened.

And he was hardly going to turn down a colleague who just wanted that experience.

And there was the incident after Bakuda's capture, where she had refused to surrender the credit. It had irritated him at the time, the capture of such a notable domestic terrorist would have been a win for any member of the Protectorate...

But he could also understand the girl's thinking.

He was well aware of that desire for recognition... it was something he had been striving for, something that his career demanded. No, not his career... he was already head of the Brockton Bay Protectorate, it was something that he had imposed upom himself.

But the girl had not thought that she had that time.

How was it that his father would have put it? The flame that dies quickly burns brightest?

A Tinker had to always move forward, had to work upon their creations. He did not have the luxury of a power that he could understand within a few days of using it, his career had been marked by sweat and toil, hard lessons that had forced him to adapt and prepare for any circumstance and when he hit a wall, he had adapted elsewhere.

The Nano-Thorn was a revolution that, following its test against Leviathan, could have propelled him to even greater acclaim.

And now Ordinant and the Spider had completely up-ended all that effort and progress, the revolution of his creation would fall by the way side because he had not been able to demonstrate it, because the Oort-Spider had cleaved through Leviathan like the old addage about a hot knife and butter.

... His plans for the Leviathan battle had admittedly, been extreme.

The footage of Ordinant trapping the beast and forcing it to engage her had also revealed just how it fought when truly cornered, parsing through the footage had revealed a number of flaws in his predictive software, any of which could have been his end had he gone up against the Endbringer as planned.

A knot of tension in his chest tightened.

He had been denied the opportunity, and yet based on what he had now observed even if he had, he would mostly have been killed or maimed in the process.

It was a strange combination of bitterness and sudden clarity that had dawned on him in the wake of the attack. Ordinant's efforts had revealed so much to the world, both about Endbringers and the Oort-Spider itself.

He had mostly only parsed through the information provided after the brief patches of explanation and conversation she was willing to maintain before she became unresponsive to further attempts.

The proceeds of which were painting a far grimmer picture than anyone could have imagined...

Within just a minute of dismounting his bike, the vultures were circling.

"Armsmaster, is it true that the unknown Parahuman who fought Leviathan is actually a member of the PRT?"

"Armsmaster, do you have any comments on the PRT's current approach to the Brockton Bay situation?"

The national and internal press was all over the outskirts of Brockton Bay, haranguing anybody and everybody who could provide a story.

He had years' worth of PR experience now, even if he mostly preferred to avoid such attention unless it was following a success on his part. But footage had gotten out of portions of Ordinant's fight against Leviathan, the scene of her going toe to toe in a fist fight with Leviathan without backing down had circulated around the world despite attempts to suppress it, as had the Endbringers final fate at the hands of the Oort-Spider.

The footage was grainy due to the conditions within the valley, but the figure of Ordinant was unmistakable, grasped in the tendrils of the Spider but not crushed, instead moved aside and then released.

Of course, the latter part made sense now.

But every day, every second the questions were mounting and people increasingly demanded answers. Plenty had already guessed or interpolated a roughly correct course of events; it was a Public Relations disaster that could barely be spun at all let alone guided in a particular direction.

"I have no comments," he declared, pushing past the journalists. The benefit of being as tall and imposing as he was with the benefit of his armour that people tended to get out of the way.

Blunt, forward.

People kept asking the questions though, they did not take the first comment as an answer as he tried to do his work of maintaining law and order.

Brockton Bay was done for, the slow decay that he had observed for years had less been accelerated than brought to a heart stopping precipice of no return. Now it simply stood to try and control the situation and find new homes for all those involved. Even if the Crystal Valley could be removed or would recede with time, how could people reclaim their lives here?

Interlude: The Office of the President

The Oval Office had seen its share of stormy arguments in its time, and today was no exception. 

President J.G. Johnson stood, hands behind his back as he observed the ongoing conversation, which had by this point devolved to the point that it was almost farcical. The various assistants and special assistants to the President were not exactly a harmonious group at the best of times, despite the best of intentions all of them had different approaches, the dozens of cogs and gears in the machine of the presidency were not always interlinked.

"We have several thousand barely secured security risks at Brockton Bay, any one of them could act as a vector for the expansion of the crystal, take a look at the goddamn report on the sub-sites and that is perfectly clear!"

"You want to make a ghetto for these people!"

"Don't put words into my mouth I didn't use the word ghetto---"

"Use whatever term you want, what you are proposing is an unconscionable violation of the fundamental rights of any citizen of the United States!"

The other speaker in the conversation took a moment to take a sip from a glass of water, allowing the statement to hang a moment and perhaps for tempers to cool.

"... With all due respect, sir, based on what we know, any one of them could act as a vector for the expansion of the crystal, if you look at the fourth report on the sub-sites then its quite clear. We are not looking at people suffering some unpleasant skin condition, we are talking about an invasive alien ecosystem."

In that case, why wasn't most of the East Coast crystal by now? Because according to the other reports, victims of this crystal had been living and dying in the course of their civilian lives for some time. Fortunately, rather than ask himself, the Parahuman scientist spoke up.

"We have reason to believe that only infected Capes can act as vectors for further expansion of the Valley---"

"And that is a risk we cannot take! In the course of twenty minutes an entire city was overrun!" 

That was quite enough. At this point he glanced at his personal assistant, Mrs. Stanton, and gave the faintest of signals. At once the woman took charge of the situation, clearing her throat. The two members of staff who had been in the throes of argument stopped at once, turning to focus on him instead of one another.  

"The source for the crystal was the Cape who fought Leviathan, correct?"

"... Yes, the Ward formerly called 'Ordinant.' By her own words the Spider 'deployed' the crystal through her."

"Is she secure?"

Dutifully and with the trained unobtrusive grace of long-time personal assistants across the planet, Stanton removed a file from his desk, one of many, and stood waiting to present it to him. 

The more senior of the pair of speakers replied.

"She is secure Mr. President, in a fashion... her condition and powers make her near uncontainable, but she is voluntarily in PRT custody." 

Voluntarily indicated intelligence and a willingness to cooperate... or a greater plan behind this. 

"I think that we have discussed the matter enough, gentleman. I want concrete numbers on the Brockton Bay situation before any federal level choices about the population is made."

After a moment the group began filing out, leaving just the various members of his security service behind and Mrs. Stanton, stood as still as statues.

"Do we have a report on 'Ordinant'?"

Dutifully, a folder, one of two dozen on his desk, was passed his way. 

"Thank you, Nancy," he took the file. She wordlessly stepped back to allow him to read. "When is my meeting with Costa-Brown?"

"Eleven thirty, sir."

Plenty of time. 

"Tell her I want to discuss the proposed responses to Ordinant.”

“It was not on the itinerary, sir.”

“Then she can put it on the itinerary, I bet by now they’ve already made half a dozen ideas to bicker over.” She nodded, and stepped away to place the call.

With that, he began to read. 

With the amount of paperwork and information coming out of recent there was no way for one man to parse through it all, even with a dozen aides and informants, just this morning he had skim read four reports on the state of Brockton Bay, glanced at a state address he was to make in the afternoon and received thirteen separate reports on various other matters. 

But some things had to be read and understood in their totality, such as about a Cape who could fight and kill an Endbringer, and apparently had some manner of link to another.

The first page of the file had a pair of images, the first a somewhat nervous looking girl, black, curly hair, and dark, sad eyes... she looked a little like his younger daughter actually, except that Evie was much more cheerful than this 'Ordinant' girl. The second image was of the same figure, only now she was made of crystal. Clearly, they had been unable to get her to pose, as she was curled up hugging her knees and barely even looked cognisant of the photo being taken. 

She had been a Ward for several months, with an impressive service record in that time as well and noted for her dedication to helping victims of Gray Boy.

In just a short time she had made a truly admirable impact on the number of victims of that monster.

He mostly skimmed those parts, paying notice to the 'first recorded instance of contact with power' that were highlighted, and then moved on. The details of the Leviathan fight were known to him; he had been receiving rolling updates of the situation as it progressed at the time. 

An Endbringer attack was a major event for any country on Earth, one that required both a local and national response. It was easy to imagine that the ripples and after effects of an attack could be dealt with by the PRT, but in truth the Federal level actions taken in response were far more significant. 

The PRT could handle the Parahuman element, but in the end, it was the government and its actions that would decide the fate of a city after an attack.

The emergence of the crystal had been a horrific curveball, the reports of the alien lifeforms in the valley fighting Leviathan had been tentative good news, and then the emergence of a crystalline figure who fought the beast toe to toe was both a source of tentative elation and some horror. At the time, there had been speculation that said figure was some new response, a new form of life in the valley that would require an appropriate retaliation. 

And of course... the movement of the Spider, the USA's own personal Endbringer.

The news that Leviathan was dead, and that the crystalline figure had been identified as a (somewhat) known quantity had been met with a silence that would haunt the oval office for years to come. Nobody had wanted to breathe at the news of the City Killer's death. 

The fact that the Spider had returned to its Quarantine Site-09 (and by the same exit in the wall, nonetheless) had been a cause for joy. 

Joy that soured as further reports came in. 

The threat assessment of Ordinant had been revised multiple times and had far more double digits than he liked. 

The description of her mental state was just as bad, as were the descriptions of her known powers and abilities. 

But it was the interviews that really clinched it.

The Spider was intelligent, it knew what she knew and more than that it wanted more. The origins of the Endbringers were unknown, but according to the girl, who had a constant link with it, the Spider was straight up an extraterrestrial being whose entire disposition felt more appropriate for a being in one of the Lovecraft stories he had read as a teenager than a real creature. The former speculations on it originating from the Oort-Cloud, source of its name, had been tentatively confirmed.

According to reports prior to Leviathan's attack Ordinant was an intelligent enough girl, suffering severe depression but possessing a strong dedication to being a hero to the point of a martyr complex. She was slowly forming friendships and desperate to 'do her bit' before her inevitable death, and the parahuman psychologist who had been handling her had been confident that she was improving, even if it was tentative. 

The current psychiatric reports were far bleeker. Apparently, the death of a close friend to prevent her 'metamorphosis' (and wasn't that a terrifying word?) alongside guilt for what had happened had left her in her current state.

And that was without the stream of information she was supposedly receiving from the Oort-Spider.

It painted a clear picture of a person that was an inherent risk to keep around. The status of the Oort-Spider and its intentions were unknown, the degree of control that it exerted over the girl was another.

She professed to have her own free will rather than being a 'combat-optimised drone,' which she had claimed to have gained through some manner of bargain with the creature.

That indicated that the Oort-Spider could be reasoned with. 

But only via Ordinant.

The risk was high, something that Costa-Brown had stressed in her own notes and report at the bottom of the page. 

But at the same time. 

The girl was an incredible asset.

A near unkillable Parahuman who only grew more potent with exposure to other powers, one who could fight an Endbringer and who, at the cost of a city, could neutralise a threat that was compromising the balance of global power one city and nation at a time. He did not need to be an expert on Parahumans to recognise the value of such an individual, for years the Triumvirate had been a major bargaining chip in the nations favour, a form of hard leverage to hold over others to ensure favourable discussions. 

Very few nations wanted to hear that three of the most powerful Parahumans on the planet would not be turning up to their aid for political reasons.

Let alone a Parahuman with a tangible link to the Oort-Spider, who could possibly facilitate contact between the United States and the creature.

Could the girl's martyr complex be turned to the good of humanity? Could she be fed a stream of Parahuman powers to maximise her value and help ensure the future position of the USA on the world stage? Could she be used to successfully negotiate with the Spider to assist in dealing with the other Endbringers?

So many 'what if' situations, and the correct answer could well propel Ordinant into an asset both for the United States, and humanity at large.

...

That's part of the problem with being the President.

You make hard choices, and so far in his six years he had made a lot of decisions that affected hundreds of millions of lives. 

Johnson had children, two daughters, he had been thinking just a minute ago about how Ordinant looked just like his younger daughter. But the girl was not his Evie, and he had a tough choice to make when it came to her life. 

He set down the report and sat, deep in thought for a minute.

A knock at the door. 

"The Chief Director, Mr. President."

"Let her in."

The chief director entered, the expected handshakes were exchanged, the briefest of greetings. With how much there was to discuss, only the base pleasantries were necessary.

She had a number of folders with her, and as they sat down for the meeting she laid them down on the table.

“The proposed responses to Ordinant, Mr. President. With your signature, they will be put into action.”

“Good. I wanted to start with this.”

"There's three proposed responses Mr. President, although these are only the preliminary documents, these documents represent courses of proposed action rather than specifics. The first is to find some means to destroy Ordinant.” 

Starting the topic strong, then.

“The potential security risk she poses is high and the crystallisation of Brockton Bay places the total damages she has caused into the billions, without mentioning the deaths of civilians… and that is without considering her seeming connection to the Oort-Spider. There is the complication that she has a miniature star in her chest, and an improper method may unleash it. But Watchdog Thinkers are confident that she can be destroyed."

There was a moment’s hesitation there. He may not have noticed it, were it not for the fact that he had spent his entire life talking to people. 

"But?" he prompted.

"There is some concern that the Oort-Spider might react poorly to the attempted destruction of its 'terminal,' according to the timeline the Spider only took action against Brockton Bay after Ordinant was incapacitated during the fight with Leviathan."

"They think it might rampage?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

"Any indications on likelihood?"

"No, Mr. President."

Damn. 

He had gotten used to having some manner of number of figures beside a lot of decisions.

Johnson nodded, and indicated for Costa-Brown to continue.

"The second response, Mr. President, is to find some means by which to contain her in a secure location; it will be difficult but based on her currently observed behaviour Watchdog believes that she could be isolated and kept compliant with the correct approach. Already we have scoped out a location in the Midwest where a facility could be built and appropriate staff and enrichment opportunities provided to keep Ordinant contained and in an appropriate attitude for further questioning about the Spider, with periodic release for future Endbringer attacks.” 

Enrichment opportunities?

He refrained from raising a brow.

“Currently the upper levels of the PRT and myself are advocating for this approach."

What a sour taste that one left in his mouth.

But right now, he had to make the best choice... and if that choice was to consign an apparent teenaged girl to a quarantine facility, then he may well have to put his name to it. However, there was a question  that came to mind.

"... And what makes the PRT think that the Spider will not respond to this in the same way as the first option?"

"Pardon, sir?"

"Locking her away. It might be able to keep the girl out of the public eye, but ultimately the greatest threat from this situation is not the girl, but the Spider. Watchdog suspected that it might rampage if she is killed, but has any effort been made to question the girl about how it might respond, or precognitive forecasts made?"

The pause was just a fraction too long.

"Costa-Brown?"

"... The girl herself is immune to precognitive Thinker powers, so the modelling system has had to accommodate for such, and she is rarely willing or able to be coaxed into speaking for longer than a few minutes, at current the question has not been posed."

"I want that answer," he said, leaving no room for doubt in that. "The report I was sent indicated that she is still very human, even if clearly undergoing some sort of mental health crisis, but I would much rather have a depressed human made of crystal and a passive Endbringer than a contained, depressed human and an uncontained Endbringer."

"Sir, with all due respect, Ordinant is no longer human, she is completely made of alien crystal now and we cannot even confirm if her mind is not simply an accurate simulation of a human mind. We cannot guarantee that she is a reliable source of information."

"Simmilar things could be said of a number of Case-53's. We have been dealing with individuals who are human in mindset but not in body for decades."

Behind Costa-brown, Johnson could see one of his secret service members shift in place. The Parahuman element of the service had a number of Case-53's behind the scenes, they were too blatant for the front face of his protective force.

"If the girl thinks she is human, acts like a human and wants to help humans, then she can be treated like one. I want that answer from her lips, and I want it on my desk as soon as possible."

"... Yes, Mr. President."

A definite cool note to her voice there. 

He nodded. 

"And the last option?"

Costa-Brown, taking the rather obvious hint, got back on track.

"The third response is to attempt to keep Ordinant integrated into her current position as a Ward of the Brockton Bay PRT or simmilar position. Based on her previous heroic inclinations and efforts it has been proposed that she could make a recovery from her current mental state and return to active duty far more efficiently than previously. With a high level of supervision and therapy, the PRT may be able to learn far more about the Oort-Spider and put her talents to a greater use... albeit with a large number of restrictions. However, due to the future potential of similar crystallisation events, it is currently the least popular option." 

Costa-Brown took a moment to take a sip of water.

"A number of Ordinant's colleagues and her therapist believe that she can be reasoned with and vouch for her, whilst the Director of the Brockton Bay PRT is less positive. It would also depend on the nature of the Oort-Spider and its intentions."

He nodded.

Each of them was a risk, each of them contained something unpalatable. The choice between the objective best option that would scar his conscience forever versus his gut reaction to remove a threat to the nation he loved and served... and then the option that was perhaps the highest risk for the highest reward.

The rest of the meeting covered other matters relating to Brockton Bay, and was over in the blink of an eye. There was so much to cover, and so much going on with the city that currently dominated the world’s news, that even after the meeting he felt as if there was a lot left to discuss. 

Questions of what to do with the population that had contracted the crystallisation disease.

The matter of whether the city was truly lost or could be recovered.

Whether the Oort-Spider could even be contained at all when it simply obliterated the security all without stopping.

It was the next morning that his requests the previous day were fulfilled.

As he took a seat in his office all the work from the previous day had been replaced with more piles of paper and a dozen people wanted to speak with him on various topics outside of his scheduled meetings. 

The new file from the PRT was the third that he read that morning, and consisted of several documents. 

Firstly, an empath within the Brockton Bay Wards by the name of Gallant who had known Ordinant for a few months had confirmed that whilst her emotions were different in intensity from before, they were similar to her human state.

But more importantly, there was a transcript of the conversation that occurred between one PRT Agent Coleson and Ordinant.

A number of key parts had been highlighted, on the topic of containment:

"... I don't know... it wants me to continue gathering data for it, and if I don't it will finish my metamorphosis. I... haven't collected much for it lately, I just... can't, but I need to get back to it, it's still having me process and review the stuff from Leviathan..."

A question of what this metamorphosis would entail:

"I would become what it wants me to be... a fully combat optimised body without any free will at all, I guess it would just... make me go around collecting that information and destroying anything that resists I suppose..."

And then:

"Is that what they want to do with me?"

Apparently, after that the girl experienced a 'notable loss of control over her gravity manipulation, something previously observed with high stress' and, despite the man's attempts to console her, she had utterly closed up and refused to communicate with anybody since.

None of that was good at all. 

The entire matter was being muddied by her responses, the choice was not clean cut whatsoever, but very few things were. 

Johnson, having reviewed the three options, sat with pen in hand.

Destruction, containment, and rehabilitation.

He placed his signature on one of the documents, and could only hope that his decision was the best one for the United States.

Chapter Text

Gallant had come to visit her.

Her visitors were growing more and more frequent, just a few hours before him it had been Vista and Clockblocker.

Those two had been asking so many questions about how she felt, Clockblocker had been much more reserved than usual. Within moments of stepping in both had removed their masks and come closer... both had been concerned, that much had been clear, and she had done her best to speak to them. There had been no jokes on the part of Dennis, both of them were clearly going through some things but they still came to speak with her. 

She had been tempted to give them both a hug, but in the end had just about managed a smile.

Just that smile felt like a herculean effort.

But it was nice to see them, she did not realise how much she had missed them until they were there in front of her.

Gallant had also removed his mask to speak with her, but unlike them, had simply tossed it to the ground beside the door without any concern at all for the effort put in by the outfit suppliers.

"... Hey, Dean."

"Hello, Taylor."

And then, silence. He had looked back at her with an expression hard to read. He stood just... staring at her for a moment, as if he was staring at a mountain that he had to climb. No, it was different from that, on some level... there was an understanding in his eyes. A full understanding beyond what the others had, beyond what could be contained inside a piece of paper report. He was an empath, so he would know just what a mess she was.

He had not bothered with the usual opening question. 

There was no 'are you okay?' or 'how are things today?' from Dean. He let her ask the first question and begin the conversation.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said.

He shrugged.

"Got my spine shattered by Leviathan," he said, suddenly. "Aegis pulled me out just in time but it was touch and go at some points, almost died in hospital but apparently his quick response saved me... Panacea got me up and walking, had a talk with her about some things... a lot's been going on." 

He delivered it with that utter forwardness of somebody who had well and truly been through something horrific. It was almost refreshing, the others were treating her with kid gloves, even Coleson who knew that she preferred honesty. But Dean spoke with utter forwardness about his own situation

"So long as you are okay now."

A long stare.

She had never really looked at Gallant long enough to see just how lovely his eyes were. But right now, those eyes were set in a face that could have been carved from stone.

"... My mother got caught by the crystal."

She was supposed to apologise, to say sorry. It was all her fault that this had happened. How many others were in the same situation, how many people in Brockton Bay now had a family member who now had the crystal? Before Emma's death, there had been seven of them left... but what now? Dozens, hundreds... thousands? 

"I---" 

"Did you want the valley to happen?" he demanded, and even if she had the distinct impression that he was not supposed to ask it, he still did so.

"No! No!" her heart had flared at that, bathing the room with light before she could stop it. Gallant closed his eyes a moment. "I would never want that, never! I didn't even know what was happening when the Spider just... just made it happen."

The light faded, he opened his eyes.

"... Then it's not your fault, Taylor... she'll be okay, it was only up to her knees. Don't hold yourself responsible for what happened."

But it was her fault---

"No, stop that. Whatever happened out there, you did not want it to happen. It's a fucking tragedy that it did and we all wish it didn't... but it did, gotta live with the consequences," the well-spoken young man of before was gone. It almost sounded as if he wanted to be angry, as if he wanted to vent all that frustration and rage, but in the end, couldn't. It was painful to watch as he momentarily deflated, nostrils flaring as he exhaled. How long had he been waiting to ask that question?

He could read her emotions, so she did not even bother to speak.

Dean's expression twitched slightly in response.

"... I’m sorry, but I had to ask. I know things could not be rougher right now, people are hysterical because they don't know what to do about the crystal, they've brought in some experts to try and explain how to live with it but frankly, it’s not helping. If you can help at all---"

The door suddenly opened. She looked past Dean to see a PRT agent, an out of towner, in the doorway. The woman was frowning at her fellow Ward, lips pressed into a grim line as she stared disapprovingly at the back of his head.

"Gallant. I am afraid a situation has come up and I need to ask you to come with me," Dean had not looked away from Taylor, even if his face transformed into one of blatant distaste. She did not need to be an empath herself to read the room, and idly had used her gravity to pick up his helmet and pull it towards them both, until it floated just beside his head.

He took it and put it back on all without turning around. 

"Fine. Ordinant, think about it all. Your dad has been asking for you as well, a Mr. and Mrs. Barnes as well."

She clenched her hand.

"Gallant---" the woman again spoke up.

"Yeah yeah, alright... I'll see you later, Ordinant," he said, turning and beginning to walk out. The door closed, there was the very faint sound of the electronic lock sealing.

Beyond the door, the conversation continued.

They did not know just how good her hearing was now.

"You were supposed to keep your helmet on and comms open throughout your time there, and the questions you asked were completely inappropriate."

"We've been asking to speak with her for days. I'm going to damn well ask when I have the opportunity."

"The Director will not be pleased---"

"The Director can shove it. Ordinant's in full control and she's still got a human mind, I know that's all you wanted me to find out but are you really trying to tell me---you know what, where is the Director? I'm going to talk to her."

There had been the sound of footsteps beyond the door, voices that slowly faded away, the woman was scolding Gallant still but he was marching away.

She did not know what she was supposed to feel. So, she fell back onto what she knew, and wrapped herself up into a cocoon and began to analyse the conversation that had just occurred in minute detail. 

Unfortunately, just minutes later Coleson would pay a visit with more questions.

Having a safety blanket was a childish thing.

Taylor understood now why small children had them, because she had not left the PRT standard issue blanket that Agent Coleson had brought her on a previous visit for quite awhile. 

She did not really pay a huge amount of attention to her surroundings, there had been  light coming in through the curtained windows when Gallant and Coleson visited.

The latter was doing his best... she could appreciate that he had a job to do, and he always stopped the moment she asked, always asked how she was doing. It was just... so goddamn draining to answer the questions. Speculating and trying to explain the Spider, when she knew that every word she said---every thought that went through her brain was something that fed back to it.

And now they wanted to lock her away somewhere. 

Coleson's question had been so directed that even without hours to reflect on things, it had been clear why he was asking, and he had even mentioned that the questions came from 'somewhere high up.'

She could fully understand where they were coming from.

But they had to keep her supplied with information

They had to they had to or else she would---

Focus.

Focus for a moment on a nice, safe bit of information, parse it, pick it apart and come up with ideas and concepts. 

If her calculations were correct, she had been awake for one hundred and eight hours now.

She just wanted the safe oblivion of sleep...

But if she did close her eyes and simulate unconsciousness, was there any guarantee that she would wake? Would the Spider see that as an inefficiency and finish her metamorphosis the moment she did? No, that was a risk she could not take, and even though the thoughts had gone through her mind dozens of times, the Spider had never so much as registered them. The matter was so insignificant that it did not even register it as an issue to be addressed.

If she slept, would her antigravity field falter? Anywhere she set her feet, the Crystal Valley would spread, her going to sleep could spread the crystal, could doom another part of Brockton Bay. She had already destroyed most of the city.

No, no she could not risk going to sleep, and it was not like it was a biological need anymore... it was safer for her to stay awake, that way she could monitor everything around her and about her.

The last time she lost the battle to stay awake it had taken Emma's efforts to wake her up. 

She tensed up, curling into an even smaller ball. 

"I don't want to crystallise, Taylor."

She wanted to cry. Even if there were no muscles or tendons there, her heart felt wrong, it wanted to tighten with emotion but in truth she knew that it was simply the miniature sun in her chest flaring.

Just let her cry! She wanted to spend hours bawling her eyes out. She could make the sound, she could feel the emotions, but the small relief and catharsis of just opening the floodgates could not come, because she did not have tear ducts anymore. All she could do was jam her eyes shut and bite the blanket in frustration.

Emma...

She could still feel the phantom sensation of her friend within her arms, leaning her chin on her shoulder, could see those eyes staring back at her. Even with her body turned to crystal, sat on her knees with one frozen in place at her side and the other broken at the forearm... Emma had still looked at her so nicely, as if they were just sitting in her room spilling their secrets to one another. Emma had been nicer than she deserved for what she had done. 

Those words, that expression would haunt her forever. 

So many things that had occurred in the last few days would.

Dimly, she was aware that her heart was flaring so very bright. Were it not for her own restrictions that prevented its heat and radiation from leaking, she would have vaporised most of the room dozens of times over during her time here. Nobody really understood what it was like, oh they could detect the brightness, she was pretty sure that they had been using it to extrapolate her mental state... the questionings always occurred when it was not at its dimmest, but not fluctuating much..

She released the ball of tension, making the sound of a sigh even if she had no lungs.

For the first time in hours, she opened her eyes and peered upwards.

The marbles she had asked for, and which one of the troopers she distantly recognised supplied.

She had wanted something to distract herself with, something that she could practice her gravity control on.

Sitting up, the marbles descended to float over her hand, and she watched, detached as the various pieces of spherical glass orbited one another. She had them stop, perfectly calculated for the planet’s current positions within space. 

That one was earth, the colours were not right but it did the job. It was still spinning, it has taken a lot of attempts to get it rotating at the right speed to match the Earths, only somebody with superior abilities like her would notice it. 

"Your dad has been asking for you as well. A Mr. and Mrs. Barnes as well."

If they wanted to lock her away somewhere, then she needed to see her dad and the Barnes before that could happen.

It was a sudden resolution, and before she had really had time to dwell on it, she was focusing gravity on her feet to righten herself. Carefully she folded up the blanket and bundled it up under her arm. That strange, sudden clarity that normally came with waking up from a long dream settled over her.

She had spent days here, and all at once the four walls felt stifling rather than a safe, out of the way place to process all that had happened. The marbles moved to orbit her head as she floated forwards towards the door, and she knocked on it. 

After a moment, it opened to reveal a trooper, one who looked faintly surprised to see her not in the centre of the room.

"... I'm done here. I want to see my dad," she announced, gliding forward. 

"Ordinant, wait, you need a mask at least!"

"No point. Where is he?"

Chapter Text

This temporary PRT base was nothing more than an office building with a large number of troopers in, and it was an absolute mess.

It rather reminded her of pictures of forward or emergency operation bases one might see on the news, with news reporters in bulletproof vests and helmets talking to camera in small rooms filled with people bustling. There were Capes she did not recognise in conversation with one another, bureaucrats on their fourth cup of coffee with stacks of paper in hand, and more colours of lanyard denoting different levels of status than one could imagine. 

It was a proper mess, in this sort of situation after an Endbringer attack, did the PRT basically rule the city now? What happened to town hall and all that, was the mayor and his executive power folded into the PRT structure temporarily, or superseded by it?

It did not really matter, to be honest.

Whoever was in charge of the situation had been administering it for days now whilst she was... wallowing? No, she had been recuperating. She had just needed time to process everything... she was still processing everything, but having a purpose was what mattered right now. If she was truly to be consigned to some hole somewhere then all that mattered was seeing her father and speaking with Emma's parents before it happened.

"Hey, do you know where Danny Hebert is? Been asking for me?"

For everyone she asked it was something of a longshot. The temporary agents brought in from other cities would not know of course, and even the ones native to Brockton Bay she could not expect to magically know exactly where he was. But with each person she asked the chances of one of them knowing would only go up, right? 

Quite a few people were moving out of her way. They saw her, paused a moment, as if trying to remember something before swiftly vacating. What stories had been circulating, what was the cause of their reactions? It was human nature to always imagine the negative, that everyone was scared of her or worried that she might do something... but she had been on good behaviour right, there was no reason for people to be scared... well, logically there was no reason.

But logic and action only coincided when humans were calm and in situations that they were used to. She knew that well enough.

Maybe it was surprise, them not expecting her to suddenly snap out of her funk and then they see her ominously floating down the halls towards them?

She would probably get a bit creeped out by that, if she were in their situation.

Ahead of her, a pair of troopers standing beside a door were tensing up the closer she got, visibly weighing up their course of action. looked at one another, evidently wondering whether they were supposed to do. They could not leave their post due to protocol, after all.

One of them was reaching up to his helmet, the other remained focused on her. 

She recognised them both, well, sort of. She recognised the one of them stood to the left, he had a rather distinctive half-lean where he alternated his weight from foot to foot. She had seen him about often enough, a Brockton Bay native. 

"Sorry to bother you both, but who is in charge at the moment?" she tried a new direction with her questions.

Gallant had mentioned speaking to the Director, presumably Piggot, but that had been hours ago. The chain of command was probably all messed up anyway, even if no major figures from Brockton Bay died in the fight due to it being ended somewhat early by the valley appearing, the influx of new figures to handle the crisis had probably shaken Brockton Bay’s PRT up and down.

“Alexandria is overseeing a lot of the Parahuman side of things but she is currently in the middle of a meeting," the first one said after a moment.

“Okay… who else?”

Another pause.

"Armsmaster remains in charge of local operations but is currently unavailable."

“Well---” the speaking trooper looked past her suddenly as a metal boot met the floor, and she turned around.

"Ordinant."

Dauntless stood facing her, standing a distance away in his full outfit. Ah, he must be on duty in case of anybody attempting to attack Headquarters at the moment, right?

She had only shared a few words with the man in her tenure, he often was patrolling whilst she was in base, and her loop breaking before all this nightmare began had kept her away from Brockton Bay so much that plenty of Protectorate member’s she had barely been able to speak with.

"Where's my dad?"

"... Asleep, it is two in the morning, you know." He sounded tired, perhaps a little run through the mill as it were. She needed to remember that it was night and people slept now, hell, she should be asleep but she had better things to be doing then resting.

"I want to see him."

Indistinct radio chatter from the other hero's helmet. She could focus on it and tune in, but she could already guess what it was.

"... We can bring him up to your room."

It sounded just a little... not rehearsed, but obligatory in nature.

"I am sick of that room, I've been in there long enough," she said, stubbornly.

"Alright then." He had spoken before the annoying radio chatter could start up again. "Well, lets find you somewhere comfortable, and I'll see about bringing him to you, then. Mind following me to one of the break rooms? Probably more comfortable for you both... the higher ups are getting somewhat concerned,” he added, already stepping away.

She floated behind him, the man's heavy steps colliding with the ground as if to declare his presence and march forward to anybody who might get in the way.

Nobody did, everyone had made themselves scarce.

It was only troopers for the most part anyway, and they did not intervene as the other hero led her to a room that… well, he called it a break room but it also seemed to be serving as storage for something, possibly PRT equipment or supplies of some sort. With everything being so out of order at the moment, the place looked a mess.

“Coffee machines over there… not sure if you even need it, but if you want to give it a go feel free. It tastes awful though.”

“Thanks, Dauntless.”

He left, and she waited.

Would her father even recognise her like this?

Made of crystal, without the colour and definition of a human being… she knew that she looked just a little… uncanny.

She had seen a few of the other kids from camp just hours before their atomisation, the fixed, glossy crystal eyes, the faces that looked carved or sculpted despite being flesh the last time she had seen them.

The last time he saw her she was in her full Ordinant getup, about to head out into battle with Leviathan and now she was in some manner of bland, standard issue PRT holding garment. It was not pretty, being perfectly utilitarian in nature.

Of course he would recognise her, he was her dad after all. Nobody in the world would recognise her better. Nobody left alive, at least.  

In this manner she fretted for a few minutes, before the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps became audible just outside the door. She really should stop making use of this enhanced bat hearing… but it certainly was useful.

The door opened not with a creak but with a loud bang as Danny Hebert pushed it with such force that it slammed into the wall beside it, the metal handle leaving an appropriately shaped dent in the cheap plaster.

Her father looked an absolute mess... his right hand was bandaged, presumably from when he tried to punch Assault, and by the looks of it she was not the only Hebert who had not slept in a long time. His facial hair had evolved from stubble to an unkempt mass of hair that desperately needed a good half an hour with a sharp razor.

He stared for a moment at her, the moment stretched on for so long.

Would he recognise her---

"Taylor..." there were so many emotions in that single word, an infinite volume of relief, but also tiredness, as if that word had been the load-bearing pillar holding up the entire building of her father's being.

Her name from his lips was just what she needed to hear.

He stepped closer without a moment’s hesitation, behind him Dauntless gave Taylor a small wave, reaching over with a gauntleted hand to take the door handle and pulling it to. Why did she have the impression that he was supposed to stay?

Seemed that Gallant was not the only one with some reservations about things.

"Come down here right now young lady," her father ordered, and she allowed herself to float over to him, careful not to let her feet touch the floor. Even if he had not carried her like this since she was a small child, she did not hesitate in dropping herself into his arms as if she were a princess and was pulled close without a moment's thought.

She kept her own gravity low so that she would not weigh him down.

Bump.

His lips against the crown of her head, knocking the marbles all askew without concern.

His arms hugged her so tightly, it wasn't anywhere near enough to make the crystal creak or anything like that, he was only human after all, but she could feel the earnestness behind it all.

Despite herself and her innumerable higher functions, thoughts, and abilities, she found herself mumbling and talking endlessly, just letting it all spill out in her father’s arms. And he stood there, letting her, swaying her from side to side slightly and holding her up, away from the ground.

For the first time in days, she felt safe.

If Taylor had a penny for each time she had sat in front of this damned desk awaiting some piece of news with trepidation, then she would have a handful of coins by now. Enough to begin working towards buying a treat of some kind, perhaps.

But such things were far from her mind as she floated cross-legged in the air in front of the Director's desk. 

Except that it was not the director that she was speaking to. 

Instead, it was a perfectly nondescript agent, one of the many support staff that had flooded into the Bay to help deal with the management of the disaster that had befallen the city.

Apparently meeting with the Director, or anybody of notable rank within the PRT was considered a major security risk due to her connection to the Spider. Another bit of paranoia on their part, but she could not say that she disagreed with the principle... even if it was probably redundant. Hell, they had not even given her a conference call, or something where she could physically see the woman, did they worry that even people’s micro expressions would feed back to the spider?

Well, they would... but it wouldn't care, what was the solitary antennae flick of an ant to an office worker in a rush?

But she could play along with this scene, the earpiece that was feeding the PRT agent lines came from Piggot anyway, if she put her mind to it, it would be easy enough to listen in directly. 

But she didn't.

"… Not containment?" she asked to clarify what the somewhat prim, middle-aged woman had just informed her. Whilst she did not have a heart to leap into her throat any more, judging by the ambient brightness.

“Yes, not containment,” the agent confirmed, slightly squinting from the bright light emanating from Taylor at the news.

“Ah, sorry...”

She tried her best to stop lighting up the room.

"Thank you. Now as I was saying, No, not containment. A lot of people above me are hoping that you can do something about the problems in the Bay. So no, no containment, it's not going to be easy but you are to remain a Ward of the PRT... Officially I need to ask your consent for this, but frankly, seeing your past behaviour and the alternatives, I doubt you are going to turn down the opportunity."

Taylor did not know whether that was a demand to know whether she knew she was being supported, or a demand that a repeat not occur.

Either way, Taylor nodded.

"No, ma'am, I want to help."

The agent did not so much as nod, but after a moment there was an indication for her to continue, to elaborate.

"I have so much to do, there are still thousands of Gray Boy loops, and I need to see if there is anything that I can do for the people who got touched by the crystal. And I owe it to somebody to do all I can as well."

Each was another reason to keep pushing forward despite how bleak the situation truly was.

“Do you believe that there is something you can do about the crystal then?” 

“… No, I have not tried asking the Spider about it, I’ve tried to avoid focusing on it at all to be honest with you, Director. It is still busy; it’s been letting me… um…” don’t say digest don’t say digest--- “adapt to things?” the fact it came out more like a question than a statement was not helping the matter.

“... How kind of it.”

She could hear the words in the Director's exact tone of voice right there.

For a moment there was an awkward silence, and then the earpiece lit up again, a moment later the next line came through.

“There is a lot to be discussed about your future Ordinant, and frankly all of it is a headache that I do not want, but have to deal with… the matter of your identity first and foremost, having it be known that you are the source of the crystallisation in the Bay would be the end of you and the entire department, and frankly, is something to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately, some idiots managed to capture footage of you fighting Leviathan and put it online. The world is going to recognise you as the person who fought Leviathan toe to toe, and with that is going to come expectations."

What a weighty word. 

Expectation implied direction beyond those of the Oort-Spider, human directions, something to strive for. Even then... it seemed that that recognition she wanted is now hers, all it cost was a city and so much more than she ever wanted to give away. 

Taylor nodded, slower this time.

“Chambers in PR is looking into it, but it seems that the main options are to either introduce you as a new hero who happened to survive the crystal by virtue of your power and bravely fought back against Leviathan despite your condition. Or alternatively, persist with the Ordinant persona and configure a similar story about how your survived... the nature of your power was not known to the public after all…the only problem being what to pin the source of the crystallisation on. But there is some precedent for that, it seems, that could work.”

“Precedent?” she frowned.

What did the woman mean? The only crystallisation sites were the original site and now Brockton Bay, right?

“Do not worry about it for now, there are much bigger problems to take care of. Such as your home from here on out; seeing as most of the Bay is uninhabitable and matters of identity aside, it seems for the best for yourself and your father to remain here in PRT headquarters for the near future.”

So many small little practicalities to discuss… and all so inane yet vital.

She could never live a normal life again, so she just had to knuckle down and try to make the most of it, right? That is what Emma would have wanted, to continue living even if she was just a living statue.

"There is also the matter of your public identity. The PRT highly recommends that you consider moving from public to home schooling In the interests of keeping your father safe it would be for the best to avoid too many public appearances... normally Youth Guard would expect that any Ward takes part in public education, excepting in cases where it would prove a risk to the Ward's health."

She could not live any degree of normal life.

If that was the price she paid for her continued freedom after what had happened then that was fine, in those last days as a human being person with a flesh and blood body, she had been increasingly leaning upon her Ordinant persona for purpose and meaning anyway, desperate to achieve something with her little remaining life.

School would be pointless without Emma anyway, without her Winslow was just a building filled with people. Sure, Shadow Stalker also attended but they were teammates, and not even close ones. So, moving to home tuition would not really be much of a leap would it... then again, the safe, bland normality of school had always been something to tie her thoughts down to normality, and her mind was already running so much more efficiently than a normal person anyway...

But going to school would make it blatant who she was. 

Wait, no. 

No matter what she did... people would know, let's face it. How do you hide the fact that the several hundred pounds of humanoid crystal with a star in its chest is a person? It's not like they could paint a human appearance onto her... would some sort of tinkertech illusion work? Knowing her luck, her powers would find a way to ruin it all anyway.

Unless she began to live her life purely within the PRT building there was no escaping that fact.

"... Do you think I should just become a publicly known Hero at this point?"

"That would risk compromising your father’s safety, if he could easily be traced to you then there is no telling what may happen. There is a great deal of unrest within the city at the moment... even with your new reputation and the rumours about you, there is always some fool who will attempt something so utterly stupid."

Her father... she was more worried about him and his safety than anything else here. If somebody took issue with her existence and tried to destroy her or take revenge, she could pull herself back together, there were not many things that could really hurt her much. 

But he was so vulnerable, so fragile and mortal by comparison, he had to be kept safe.

It was not like his job existed anymore, maybe the PRT could hire him in some capacity to assure his safety? She could be an open Cape and he could have a job here, or be in a sort of witness protection, right? Or was she being naive?

"... I still want to try and live as Taylor Hebert somewhat, and part of that was being Ordinant... you know?"

The woman did not have a clue and could not emphasise, that much was clear, but after a moment she still nodded. This was going to be such an uphill battle, wasn't it? Just like everything else in the last few years.

"Very well."

When you become all the more able to perceive human expressions, you begin to notice all the little ticks here and there, the little things that one’s subconscious picks up on but you do not necessarily process 

Towards the end of the conversation, she asked the question that had been on her mind for the last day.

“What is going to happen to Brockton Bay, ma’am?”

“Not my wheelhouse to decide on, Ordinant. But between the two of us and in the interest of continuing to have a job, I would see if you can do anything about that crystal at once.”

BigBlueInsomniac : Guys have you seen the videos from BB?

BigBlueInsomniac : Guys im having nightmares

SkySkyDaydream : Of course it wouldn’t be happy just staying there

BigBlueInsomniac : All those people in bb

BigBlueInsomniac : LittleOwl BrightEyes GET OUT OF THERE

Ra1ndrops : The lord will protect the people of bb I am sure of it

SkySkyDaydream : Nows not the time for the god bullshit Aimee

CreateRandom : Hey don't snap at Aimee, but seriously Taylor and Emma get out

[Load more messages...]

CreateRandom : Holy shit have you guys seen the video? Here: Link

Ra1ndrops : IS THAT TAYLOR?

Ra1ndrops : Hey LittleOwl is that you?

BigBlueInsomniac : You’re not supposed to speculate on who people are like that but yeah,looks just like her.  

BigBlueInsomniac : fuck me the spider didn't kill her

SkySkyDaydream : I cannot watch it longer then a few seconds without flashbacks sorry

BigBlueInsomniac : Yeah I have that as well

Ra1ndrops : LittleOwl Is everything alright? I've tried messaging Emma but she hasn't responded, are you guys okay?

Ra1ndrops : Taylor?

CreateRandom : She might have lost her phone Aimee

CreateRandom : I'd throw mine away in a heartbeat if it gave me a minute heads start on the Spider

LittleOwl : Hey guys, just to say I am ok.

Ra1ndrops : What about Emma?

Ra1ndrops : Is she okay?

LittleOwl : Emma's gone

Ra1ndrops : Im so so sorry

Ra1ndrops : She's in a better place now

CreateRandom : ... I don't even know what to say Im... yeah, I'm so sorry as well.

BigBlueInsomniac : Im

BigBlueInsomniac : My last words where asking why she was at the funeral

BigBlueInsomniac : I want to throw up 

Ra1ndrops sent you a private message!

Viewing conversation with Ra1ndrops

Ra1ndrops : Hey Taylor, just to say, me and Joe are gonna come down to BB, see if we can give advice and help to folks who the crystal, its not much but we might be able to give some comfort?  But yeah... if you want to meet up and have a shoulder to cry on, just let me know.

Ra1ndrops : I am so sorry about what happened to Emma.

Chapter Text

"Hey Taylor... any chance of turning it down a bit? Or we might need to turn the main lights off."

"Sorry... I was just reading people's thoughts about today," Taylor apologised, doing her best to soothe her nerves to reduce the brightness she was putting out.

Carlos gave her a slight smile, evidently empathising on some level. The young man looked good for somebody who had suffered enough physical trauma to put down a bull elephant, although judging by the descriptions she had been given from Vista, the leader of the Wards had barely looked human by the end of the battle with Leviathan, a leg ripped off and so many gouges and rents in his body that he was still recovering from, even with Panacea's assistance.

For now he was waiting to put on enough mass for his leg to be regrown, and the two of them were sat in the Wards space in the new headquarters... although the small break room with a sofa or two fell rather short of the old room they enjoyed before the crystallisation.

"The usual sort, speculating on what you can do?" he asked.

"Something like that..."

All the Wards had been through public reveals and had to give speeches at some point, and a fact plenty of people forget... Wards are still kids and teenagers, not exactly keen to be put in the spotlight for the most part. Sure, some of them handled it better than others, but it was a shared experience that all of them could understand on some level.

She was not sure how many had to go through two public reveals, though...

That had been in the morning, first thing, and had been several days in the making.

There had been an extensive amount of time spent with PR, headed by the passionate whirlwind that was Glenn Chambers, a man who Taylor was coming to wonder if he was even human. Nobody should be able to operate at that level of energy for that long without the use of high-quality stimulants.

She was powered by literal nuclear fusion and she had struggled to keep up with him!

Quite whether the head of the PRT's Director of Public Images had necessarily needed to be flown into Brockton Bay to handle the entire thing was another matter, but then again, she was an unusual case, as Piggot had pointed out. It did not take a social savant or ten thousand data points to deduce that they were putting their A-game into covering up the truth behind Brockton Bay and controlling the narrative.

She did not really know how to feel about it.

It was not as if she wanted the world to know that it was due to her that the crystal had spread to Brockton Bay. No, not because of her necessarily, as Gallant had pointed out... but certainly it could never have happened if she had just not insisted on being there at the battle.

At the same time, such a large-scale deception of the public chafed to some degree, or was that just her clinging onto the notion of heroism and morality?

Taylor sighed, releasing more tension and dimming her heart before she returned to the matter at hand, her new Ward's phone, on which she was reading PHO.

♦ Topic: 'Crystal Girl' confirmed Ward!
In: Boards ► News ► Events ►America
CelestialSiren (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)
Posted on May 30th, 2011:

As the topic, the 'Crystal girl' who people filmed fighting Leviathan is apparantly a Ward!

Here's some pictures from a press release about her, apparently her name is 'Ordinant', she was a Hero with the BB Wards before Leviathan attacked, straight up tanked a beam from Purity just a day before Leviathan attacked but it seems that whatever power she had let her survive the crystallisation.

Edit: Guys, keep the discussion about the identity of Ordinant to a minimum, we've had enough infraction warnings today to get the entire thread on the verge of being banned.

She had rather been dreading the inevitable judgement of the public that would inevitably arise from the announcement of her (continued) existence.

When she had been debuted to the world the first time as Ordinant, it had been to very little fanfare and she had been quickly forgotten for the most part.

She did not have any manner of power that could be demonstrated for the benefit of the cameras and had stood there a little awkwardly, given a speech from the lectern about her duties and responsibilities about wanting to help Brockton Bay, and then it was over.

This time it had been very different, floating there with a new mask and outfit, arms crossed over her chest to present the image of strength. She had done her best to keep her voice and tone level and clear, the fact that she no longer had the biological impulse to tremble or show obvious signs of fear really helped... as did a degree of immunity to the various flashing lights and cameras. When the time had come to answer questions there had been so... so many...

The most important being to confirm that she was indeed the person who fought Leviathan.

Other questions were less pleasant... nothing like being asked things that would blatantly reveal her civilian identity (for what little it was worth anymore) by members of the press, and having to either deflect or allow Armsmaster to do so on her behalf.

► Stars1Ensnared
Replied on June 30th, 2011:
Holy [censored] she's real, didn't she literally go toe to toe with Leviathan and basically win?

► GunnerGod
Replied on June 30th, 2011:
Pretty much, and she was showing off some really intense powers as she did, shame the footage is kind of grainy but apparently the crystal really fucks with long range cameras

the fucking Spider even let her go after it pulled her and Leviathan to it... man I still get goosebumps watching it just cut Leviathan in half

Anyway yeah, got the original video of the fight in case anybody has not seen it: LinkBy comparison to her first debut, her second one was much more interesting to the people of the Bay and beyond.

► SpicyBurrito69
Replied on June 30th, 2011:
Didn't all the other Parahumans die when they came into contact with the crystal? Or do you think that she had some sort of power that let her stay alive? Either way holy [censored], do you think that there is some sort of way to copy her power? I know a lot of folk are currently panicking about the crystal.

That comment got a lot of people quoting it... and it encapsulated a lot of difficulties to come in her life.

So many people scared and suddenly afflicted with a terminal condition, a terminal condition that for so long had eclipsed and blighted her own life... she knew exactly what they were going through, almost all of them now had crystallised portions of their legs, just like she had... sure, Prosthetist might be able to help a lot of them, but there were almost five thousand people who had been infected, and the Tinker had to oversee and build her pieces of work herself...

Unless Dragon could find a way to mass produce them, the infected population of Brockton Bay was doomed.

She put away her phone, closing her eyes as she floated there.

... Soon she would have to speak with the Spider on the matter, and that time was growing closer and closer.

Later that day, she had a rather unusual interaction.

"Excuse me... a friend of mine wants to visit me."

"That might be difficult to organise without giving away your identity."

"She already knows who I am... she saw the video of the fight and recognised me."

Such a strong response... did they really think that nobody would recognise her, even made out of crystal? It was almost comical to watch them all run about in a flap discussing the best way to handle this, as if Taylor seeing a friend was some manner of major crisis, when the city was struggling to the degree everyone said it was.

Still, once they had stopped running around like anxious mother hens and made up their mind, Taylor got her meeting with Aimee.

Another meeting room, blank and bland, just like all the others.

"Hi, Aimee,"

"Hey, Taylor."

She found herself smiling.

Aimee was much the same as last she had seen her, a small, unassuming girl, glasses currently halfway down her nose, only to be pushed up a moment later as she broke into a smile. She was sitting, as always, in her wheelchair. It was a rather expensive looking model that her family had bought her when she consigned herself to sitting, rather than laying, until her eventual full crystallisation. Once, in what felt like another life aeons ago, Aimee had been really into her video games, when they had first met at the summer camp, she had always had a little portable game console on her, one of those that flip open... she had been one of the quiet ones... actually, didn't she have to be coerced by Joe and her parents into going?

But now, instead of a game console it was a little cross that her hand reached up occasionally to grab, as if it were a lifeline.

What a difference time makes...

"... You look different, Taylor, but I already knew, of course... sorry, but you'll have to lean over," Aimee opened her arms, an inviting smile on her lips, and Taylor did so, moving over to give the girl a hug even as she curled up tightly to make sure that her feet did not touch the floor.

"Yeah..." was all she could say to that.

Aimee gave her a tight squeeze, then let her go.

"Want anything to drink?" Taylor asked, floating over to the tea and coffee station.

"Oh, just coffee please."

"I warn you; the coffee here is apparently worthy of a biohazard classification… at least that is what the others said."

"I'll take the risk."

She made sure to make the sound of a hum to indicate that she had heard the other girl, just nodding often got missed by humans when they were in a new setting. She set about preparing the drink.

"Is Joe okay? Kind of expected him to be here."

"Oh, he's back at the hotel, had some troubles with the motor on his chair so its getting fixed or repaired, but until then he's kinda trapped… his chair is one of those old, heavy ones," Aimee explained, reaching up to rub the back of her neck.

"So long as I get to see him at some point, that's all that matters."

"Oh, for sure, we plan to be here for a bit anyway."

"It's good of you to come to try and help, I imagine speaking to people who knows what it is like first hand may help..." it would not help with the overall prognosis and eventual fate of the people infected though... but she would have loved some guidance and advice in those early days after the Spider crashed, it would have made a lot of experiences and conversations less painful

"We'll do our best," the smile was just a little strained. "We managed to find a building with a big speaking space... you know what I mean, the word escapes me... but yeah, one of those, we're having our first meeting tomorrow and my uncle has been giving out leaflets and advertising it so hopefully plenty of folk turn up and word spreads."

Aimee understood, of course she did.

Nothing that could be said could make things better, but knowing what was to come could make it more bearable.

Taylor finished making Aimee her coffee and brought it over, which she took a sip of and winced.

The PRT coffee, reliable in its awfulness.

"I haven't gone out there yet... what's it like?"

"It's... rough," her companion admitted. "Not enough space for everybody and a lot of people struggling, all the food and water mostly coming in from the army and the convoys but it seems like the distribution is kind of messed up, and I heard rumours that the local gangs have been causing trouble with the supplies as well, I felt scared just being wheeled down the street, but my uncle is really buff so nobody messed with us."

Of course, the gangs could not just fuck off and die. Human factionalism, trying to carve out new empires and territories for themselves, the ABB had been neutered now, right? So that mostly left the Empire... but everybody knew their names by now, so how long could they really hide away before they were crushed like the insects they were. With her public reveal, soon there would be expectations for her to patrol and to begin making a difference.

And she would make a difference, she had to.

"... How did you survive it?"

"..." Taylor looked away as the sudden hammer of guilt struck her. Even if Aimee did not mean it, a certain question came to mind; 'why did you survive when nobody else did?' Would Aimee judge her if she learned the truth behind it all? If Gabrielle and the others took Emma's prosthetics as a slap to the face, then what was she, a person who could still move and live something of a mostly human life when every other sufferer had been consumed and trapped forever?

What consolation was she to the dead, who did not even have the comfort of a real grave?

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to talk..." the girl fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, eyes downcast, only to raise them the next moment suddenly. "I mean, sorry, that's rude, hey, it's just nice to see you are okay, even if y'know---" and now she was trying to change the subject to move it on even as she smiled apologetically and gestured towards her entire body.

And yet... Taylor found herself wanting to, wanting to explain things to somebody like Aimee. Maybe she had been cooped up in the PRT for too long with only her dad for (relatively) mundane company, but...

"... It's a long story..." A hum of understanding and rather than press on the matter the other girl smiled knowingly.

"It feels weird to know somebody with powers, hehe... you gave us all quite a shock, but we could not be more glad for you," Aimee said softly. "We all got so worried, sorry it must have scared you to see our messages."

"No... it was... yeah. I was not in a good place; it took me ten minutes just to say about Em's..."

A pause.

"... I'm sorry," Aimee looked away. "I wish that she could have been saved... there was so much I wish I could have said to her..."

To that, she said nothing. What could she say? Just thinking about what Gabrielle had said at the funeral still made her angry, no, it made her feel angrier now then it had at the time, because any opportunity for Gabrielle to apologise would never be heard by Emma.

"But... nobody is really gone, so long as you remember them, right?"

Barely any consolation at all, even if she had perfect memories of Emma, they would never be anything more than that. Just hollow reflections of better times, happier times... laying in bed in one another's company after crying in each other's arms, teaching her how to play the flute, their trips out when she was breaking loops, marvelling at the strange, strange beauty of the world. All of those happy moments she had seen as normal back then were now beyond her ability to experience again.

But still... Aimee was trying hard to console her.

She probably should not have said all that she did, but it was so good just to speak with somebody about it, somebody who would not immediately feed it back to the PRT, and not somebody like her dad who would immediately worry about it to the point of distraction.

"Heh... it's a shame that you cannot use your power to stop the crystals..." Aimee said, her voice low again as she looked out the window of the cafe, towards Brockton Bay. "Something like for like, but that thing is not that kind... hey, you want to get a brownie from that cafeteria I saw earlier? I don't each much anymore but we can split it between us."

"I don't need to eat, sorry Aimee..."

"Oh... right," the girl looked genuinely mournful as she ordered the brownie for herself and struggled to finish it for herself. Well, when most of your body is inorganic, you can hardly eat as much as before.

And yet, a thought stuck in her head for the rest of their little catch up.

Like for like... it gave her an idea.

Chapter Text

Brockton Bay... really was a mess.

It was one thing to hear about it from the others, quite another to see it up close.

Taylor floated along above the truck that she was escorting; one of the many that she had accompanied within the last day. 

Getting supplies into the Bay was a major logistical problem that was straining a lot of the governmental and recovery efforts. Interstate 95 had basically been cut in half by the trail of crystal that had been left behind by the Oort-Spider, traffic was having to be tightly controlled at the moment to make sure that the convoys could get through... Brockton Bay airport was hardly the largest such piece of infrastructure and right now was more akin to a military base than a civilian airport.

And then you had desperate people taking desperate actions to secure resources.

There had been multiple attacks on the convoys... feeding, housing, and caring for three hundred and fifty or so thousand people occupying ten percent of the space they had formerly was a challenge and a half, and plenty of people were willing to take the risk to guarantee resources got to 'their' people. 

One of the main ring roads that ran around the outskirts of the city had basically been closed to the public, now it was the convoys that trundled along them. They would stop off at various distribution depots, of which there were about four, where teams would quickly unload them and then she would escort them back, ready to repeat the process with the next. 

This was her first official assignment since the Leviathan battle, like some sort of butterfly she had finally emerged from the cocoon of the PRT headquarters to actually be useful to the city. Convoy duty was perhaps not overly glamorous but it made a hell of a difference, and being capable of flight made it a great deal easier as well...

The fact that she did not need to eat or sleep, and could go for hours without need of rest to ease the pressure off the others as well, free them up for more useful stuff. 

Armsmaster in particular had been in need of a break; apparently he was on the verge of being forcefully sedated at one point.

Still, it was good to be making a difference again. It was something to put her energies towards.

Even if they had her check in every fifteen minutes on the dime... that desire to keep tabs on her and some small feeling of control was really showing, wasn't it? She was almost a little surprised that her costume did not have a tracking device... then again, a phone kind of acted for that purpose, didn't it?

Even if they never said they could track the device didn't mean that they didn't.

Still.

So far there had not been too much trouble... perhaps she was lucky in that regard, or perhaps the sight of the flying parahuman who shone like a miniature sun helped to deter villains?

It was rather mundane, but she was really getting to grips with the minutiae of her method of flying, at least. 

The route was simple enough and she had already flown up and down it a dozen times tonight, the side roads onto it had been barricaded with those big concrete jersey barriers that needed heavy machinery to move, and some of the bigger road entrances even had an armed presence as well. Some of the taller buildings close to the road had teams of news reporters reporting on the situation in the Bay from there, taking advantage of the height to get views of the Crystal Valley and its aurora in the backdrop.

During the evening there had been a fair number of people gawking at her, apparently convoy watching was not a past time for some people... that or they had come to see her. 

Part of her struggled to believe they would come out purely to see her... another part very much did believe it. When you do not sleep anymore and can only work so many hours a day for the PRT, you spend a lot of time on PHO or doing other things and reading peoples opinions about things... for better and worse.

If nothing else, the PRT's smokescreen and spin doctoring seemed to be working...

The convoy was approaching its destination.

Depot four was on the north end of Brockton Bay, the last of the four. The heavy trucks lumbered their vast bulk into one of a dozen places each, and like some manner of race car pitstop team the army personnel swung into action. The vehicle had barely stopped moving before the back doors were being swung open, the various figures below like ants swarming the carcass of a dead fish. 

She lowered herself down to the place she normally did, and one of the heads of the local operation stepped forward, a woman with hair tied up in a bun so tight it was probably on the verge of internal collapse into a singularity.

"No trouble, Ordinant?" 

"No trouble so far, chief."

She struggled to tell apart all the army ranks, and she did not want to cause some sort of fuss or disrespect by calling a colonel a lieutenant or something like that. So, she just called anybody she spoke to with some manner of pauldron or chevron chief, it was a lot easier. She could probably learn them all, she just needed ten minutes and the internet but so far, she had been focusing on taking care of everyone; even a single truck lost was more people going hungry or cold, after all. 

"Good to hear. We've just had a call from depot two to say that they are about ready to head back, if you could escort them?"

"Of course, everyone going to be good here?"

It was a bit of a redundant question... the various villains and criminal elements preferred to ambush the convoys precisely because the depots were heavily manned at this point. 

The woman nodded; they went their separate ways. 

She ascended upwards again and began her journey.

From high above Brockton Bay looked ever so strange now...

On one side, a ring of artificial light produced by teeming streetlights and structures of humanity, the light they produced turning what was left of the city into a patchwork of orange lines and black squares. With the way that the military floodlights on the interior edge of the valley shone upon it, it was as if their harsh brilliance was the solitary barrier preventing the mass of crystal from extending further, a fragile force holding back the unspeakable horrors lurking within.

Speaking of the valley, the strange, pale brilliance of the stars and the aurora shone down upon the glittering, alien world on the city’s doorstep. A sea of great crystal trees, spires, and the beings within them, plenty of which shone and glittered with their own internal light, blinking away like some sort of deep-sea ecosystem... and about as hostile to human life as well. Something the size of a minivan was flying not far away within it, like some cross between a pterodactyl and a dragonfly, diving and darting, its heart ablaze like a shooting star 

Yet... why did she feel the desire to be in there? Why was it both so horrific yet familiar?

She reached up to her earpiece, looking away from the valley and the numerous questions it raised.

"Ordinant to console, I'm heading back to depot three for the next escort."

They liked frequent updates from her. 

"Console to Ordinant, noted. Stay safe out there!"

Her flight to depot three would only take a few minutes at most, this late at night there was nobody out and about... well, nobody who had a place to go, at least. There were plenty of people who had not managed to squeeze somewhere nice, though... people gathered around trash cans and small fires, nestled away in alleyways. At least it was not the dead of winter, but even then, it was not as if this part of the East Coast was especially warm at this time of the year.

... People were really living like this.

She could not really do much to help give them homes... or food, it was not like she could go over the heads of the guys at the depot to just make a big pallet of food supplies weightless and then drag them over to these people... not without raising a lot of questions. She could use Leviathan’s water echo to create fresh water there was not much she could do... and the Ward who famously fought Leviathan suddenly using its power so blatantly would be troublesome. Then again... she fully intended to use every tool in her arsenal if needed, and someday people would notice it anyway, it was just a matter of time.

Taylor did not like these quiet periods so much.

They raised too many questions.

She sighed.

It was about time that she faced down the problem that she had been considering for a day or so now. Oh, she knew for sure that the Spider was aware of her thinking, but it had not bothered to directly communicate about it, and she really should open up that dialogue.

The last time they had done so the crashing waves of its thoughts had been drowned out by her own desperate fury and anger, that burning, desperate need to live the life that she had been granted by her friend. Now though... she was simply flying through the air, and there was only the drive to try and make some manner of progress, to help others and her own bitter stubbornness to play off against the eldritch monstrosity.

She took a moment to prepare herself, and then;

Ỉ̺ṋ͗q͖̅ù̦i̺ͫr̖̓y͔͌:̭ͮ ͇̍P̣ͤe̟ͯr̼̊m͉͑i̞̔t͓̂ ̻ͧf̦́ụ̅l̖̓l͙̋ ̤̒m̱̍o͙͛ḇ̅ị̎l̲̋i̎ͅt̩̒y̮̆ ͉͆t͈͂o͕ͨ ̩ͨẖͭu͈͋m͖ͭa̠̍ǹ̟s̿ͅ ̯̓i̞̇n͚͑f̤̐è̬ċ̣t̯͛ḛ̑d͉͌ ̼̃b͎̎y̜̅ ̣͒t͍̉ḥͬe͕ͫ ͉̂c̤̃ŕ̤y̰ͥs̳̎t͂ͅa͚̍l̗ͫ ̦ͬt̜̂o͈ͪ ̩ͨa̼̍v͚ͮo̦ͯi̭͂d͉̋ ̫̒'̰̾d͆ͅe̬͌a̩ͦt̖̿h̲͆

(Inquiry: Permit full mobility to humans infected by the crystal to avoid 'death')

I̝͆̃ͭͅn̹͔̯͋̏s̞̝̫̍ͩ̀í̖͛g̦ͭ̑n͚̿i̼͊ͫf̘̻̟̿i̤ͨć̗̪͓ă͓̙̾n̟͚͉ͯt͔̀̑;̣̹ͫ ̼̓̇n̘͖͂̅ȏ͈̖̬̐ ͙͌ͬf̻̥̈ǘ̬̺ͫr̻̱͓̉t̤͈ͩ̾̌h͕̪̿e̝ͬr͎͒̃̎ ̬ͪ̾̎i̯̜ͩ̎n͍ͥ̈́̃č̜r͇̟ͤ͌e̳̫̦̓̓ͭa͚̟̗ͯs̺̦̣ͧè̘͚̽ ̫͉͗ͫḯ͔͎̿n͉̩͇̎̋ ͍̰̻͐̅d͕̐̑̾ā̙ṯ̳̋ḁ̈́ ̬̣̻̇c̜͖̰̐̅͑o̱̼ͦl̯̇͊l̦̺̦̀ͬ͊ẹ̇͊̂c̗̜̀̉̽t͓ͣ̓̽e̠̼͖̒̃d͔͚ͯ͐̓ͅ ̜̻̐v̖̌i̤ͪa̗̿ͥͭ ̖̲̗̀i̯̽̍́n̘̾̐f͔̯̿ͪe̠ͫ̚c̯̥̱̃t̗͚̉̐̔ḛ̝͑ͪ̔ď̙ ̘̋ẖ̪͓̑̿̑o̫͎͍͆̚s̙͚ͯ̆ẗ̰͑ ̼̏ͨ̌s͓̼̩ͭͮṕ̹̺̘e̝̖ͭ͆̇ͅc̭̾̓̽i͙̩͕ͤ̓e̘̮͉ͫ̉ͥș͍̏͌ ̞̩̔i͉̿ͧͣn̲̊͛d̝ͬi̺̠ͦ̅͒v͕̖̩ͨ̈́i̫ͬd̜̳̩̾́͂u̗̤̰͗́a̟ͩl̳̐ș̻͓͊͐.̤͒ͣ̅ ̜ͩI̮̾n͈ͧͦͥc͕̬ͪi̼̲̙͋ͧd̻͊̅̋e͖̖̮ͨ̊n̹̹̉ͭ̑t̝̙͓ͤͣͫa̲̜ͤ͐ͫḻ͔̰̎̈́ ̫͚̄ͬh͎̘͉ͭó͎̗̒̉s͗ͅt̞̟̗ͦ̇ ̫ͥͯs͖̻̆p̹̩̆͗̉e͎̘̓̚c̻̈́i̪̙ͯ̐̓ê̦ș̤̦̀ ͙̗ͭ̾'̰͌ͫḓ͚͉̌̆e̻͊ă̬̭̬ṯ̦̾̑ḧ͕̲̜̓͆š̰̩̺͊'̹̳͇̐ ͉̺̳ͦd̖̭̖̿̿ͯu̟̻̰͛ͪe̜͖͑̋ͣ ̬̱͊͂ͤt͕͎̦͆̐o̪̟̼̍͒̇ ̟̩͇͛c͎͒r̪͖͊̏̃y̖̿͊s̤̱̗̓t̥̟̙͊ͥa̻̔l̪̎̉ ̣̥̒̍n̳̜͖̔ė̮ͪ̃ͅg̳̯̬͛ͣl̻̼ͮͣ̂i̪̫̭̓g̯͈̖͐̄̎i̘ͬ̓̚b̰̗ͫ́ͮl̤̜͊e̯͑̌ ̬͓̇i͓͉ͯṉ̟̭̈́ͨ͋ ͈̓ͮi̤ͣm͍̏ͦ͊p̞̃ͬa͉ͭͨc̰͇ͬ̇t̜̺̉̋

(Insignificant; no further increase in data collected via infected host species individuals. Incidental host species 'deaths' due to crystal negligible in impact)

She barely even had to wait for the response, it was as if the Spider had the response prepared and in the barrel. But more realistically, it was probably that its thinking and processing capacities were so extreme that it took barely a fraction of a moment for it to review the information available and send back the response. 

C͍ͧo͚ͬu̠͂n̞ͧt̩͛ẽ̹r̦̊ ̺̓p͕ͫo͚ͦi̱̒n͙ͣț̃:̝̅ ̥̍Ì͚n̹ͨf̯ͤe̠ͪč̤ṫ͈e̠̋d̮͐ ̟͒h̪̚u͎̐m̱ͬa̬̓n͚ͬs͖̚ ̙͛s̟̏h̗̅ã̤l̹̍l̮͂ ̱ͬe̝ͦx͈ͥṕ̜e̘ͦr̙͐ḭ̎e͇̚n͈͋č̗ȇ̳ ̫͑e̗͑a̱͛r̩̔l̗ͯî̮e̮ͫr̝̿ ̙̈́m̝ͯọ̓r̦̄t̙ͮa̫̽l͙͂ï͎t͔̉ÿ̦́

(Counter point: Infected humans shall experience earlier mortality)

It would not work, that argument, and she knew it. But she still put it forward, if only out of some small bit of obligation towards her species... the species that she had come from. Even if it would be deflected or ignored as a point, she had to do so.

It was only right. 

D̤̓ͥ͋ŕ̹̎o̭͊ͅn̯̠ͬe̙͕ͮͮ'̰͌s̼̗̟ͬ ̹͉̘̃̌̐a̒̈ͅn̻ͭ̐̃a̦͌̂l̗̮̉̊ÿ̩͎͇́ͮs̮͐ͭ́i̟̼͑s͚͈͔͗͌ ̲̘͌i̱̲ͫ͐̔n̲̾s͇̼̯ͯi̠̬͚͒͑g͙̱̫ͯ̾̚ň͈̼͌̐i̟̻̐f̠̺͛ic͍ͫ͒̅a̗̰͗͊̅n͚͚ͣ͌̊t̹̲̮͛̍ͤ.͓̰̗͐ ̦̼͙̏ͧH̫̥̤̽̊̎o͙̾s͖͍͆ͦt͔͗ͅ ̟̩ͣs̼͈̟̚p̻ͨ̏̋e̟͋c̹̼̪̓̒͆i̭̮̣͊ͮ̚e̳͕ͪs̬̘̱̓̆ ̯̪͌ͪ̿i̗̖͎̋̊̐n̝͐d̯̼̎ͫi̲͗ͫv͕̟ͦ͛i͉ͭ̐̊d͖͖̞̎̑u̼̝̅ā̭ͨl̦̺̩̽șͫͪ ̟̀̈̈s̼̬̰̔̋t̰̾̐ͪa̰̍ṯ͕̥ͥͨ͊u̮̙͕͐ŝ͓̞͓̾̈́ ̜̦̗ͨ̽i̝ͧͩn̩̉̄͌s̹̮ͦͧ͗i̲̯ͦ̏ḡ͚͔̲͐͌n͖̼̥͐í̮̘̺͌̓f̬̋̂̅i̻̰̾ͪ̇c̠ͧ͗ā̳͚̯ṇ̺̎ͤt̻͆̓̈́.͉̠̂ ̼̱̣̑͑I̯ͭṅ̥͍ͩ̎f̰͍̜ͤ̊̍e̜̤̳͗̾̃c̲̔t̯̘͋ͣe̗ͩ̔d̠͌̋ ͎̒ͤ̓p̮̱̙̌͛ͯo̩̻̔p̹ͪͧ̉u͓̱̒l͕ͤa̬̔̓̒t̟ͩ͒̃í̲͉̦̅̔o̰̣̹ͣ̔n̳͓̔͑ͤ ͎̇̏r̲̯̫ͧe̺̙̗̓p͇̒r͎̪̃͌̏ẽ̖̜ͬs̘͍̦͑ͦe̮̥̭͑̉n͚͋ͫt̥̣ͪ̀s̖̽ ̤̇̋̈ͅ0̲̎͑̒.̘̣̖̓̓͗0̬̫̭ͤ̄0͕̿0͕͔̼̅͌0͚͖͗6͈̄̏̉9̦̊ͫ̉4͉̖̏ͪ͑2̘̣̳ͨ̋%̭̆ͤ͆ ̪͍̱̈́ŏ͔̦̰͂f̭̓ͯ͗ ̻ͩͭ͋c̟͑u͍͖ͤ̂ͮŕ̯̗̙r͈͑e̥̦̦͗̍ň̹̹͒ṱ͙̈́͌ ̭͈̱̄g͕̦̓l͓͕ͩͪ̋o̳͉ͮͯb̯̖͗ͥa̪̎l̻̇ ̖ͦ̍̓Ĥ͇̖̦͌́ȍ̤͕̌ͯs̘̬̹̒ͩ̾ț͎͕ͯ̅͋ ͔̓ͯ̓s̺̠ͪͩ̃p̻̙̹̓̀e̺̣̳̓c͕͛̌i̟͍̳͊e̪̋̒̿s̘ͧ ̥̭͕̈p̜̩̮ͮ̓ͬô͉̲̑p͕̋̍̄u̖̦ͥ̿l̘̼͚̍a̠̿ͮt̩̯̩͆͒i͈͔̇o̜͙̅n̼̜͊.̦̣͔̀ͦ ̣̺̪ͤ̔ ̝̳̥̽

N͍͎̾ͯu̯ͭ́m̰ͥ̏ͅb͈̻̋ȇ̱̣̫ͬr̰̖ͣ ̝̊̚i̪ͯs͚͋ ͇͈̇ͪ̌i͓̞̓͑̿n̈̎ͅs͔͎ͩͭi̞̰̝̊g̮͓̓n̲͍̚i̠ͤ̇ḟ̫͕́̚i̗͉̼ͭ̈c͖̜͖ͨ̈́̇a̘͔͉ͫ͒̉n̟̮ͪṯ̹̌ ̹͐ͨͤa͖̲͇ͥn͔̻ͩͯ̅d̻͔ͬͯͤ ̩͈̟̑s̫̙̍ͯ̑h͖̐̽a̺̮ͩḷ̝͈̒̿l̜ͣ ̱̏b̪̺̣̈e̤ͬ ̹͙͂r̘͇͑͛e̮̲͊c̻̲̭̏͂̋o͗ͅv̖̺͓͊e͉̟͇ͩ̔r̲̖̈́ͥ̒ȇ͕͎̐d̺͊ ͍̎̚w̫ͣͪí͉̬̙̓̈́t̯̘̯ͥͤ̚h̩͇͉ͣ̽ͪi̩̬̠͌̄̐n͙̭̳͑ͫ ̜͎̬̔l̙̪̗͋͂̂ë̺̭̒s͓͔̃̿̽s̮̫̗ͩ ̦̪͗̏tͧͅḧ͍a̲͇̟͐͐n̦ͥ ̩̣̭̈̓1̭͕͛ ̳̙͎̈́r̗͋̽o͙̱̩̐̋t̫̮͂a̭̐ͅt̠̞̃̈̆i̘̠̝͆̾͑o͙̮͕ͥ̋n̺͌̉ ̭̫̇ͅo͖ͫ͋ḟ͙̖̒ ̳̟ͨ̒t̲̩ͦ̀̇h̻ͯ̃e͈̼ͧ̔͌ ͔͑ͣ̀p͚̒̅l͍̥̙ͥ̑a͖͓̺ͫ̇̔n̗̎e̙̺ͪ̆͐t̞̹̠̿͒̌.̲̱̏̀ ͉͎̰̄̓̄E̫͒́n̝͙͕̽̊̈́e̪̽͗̈r̭̜̐ǵ̜̝ẻ̞ͦt̮̤͍̊ͤi͎ͣc̲̍ ̙̜̂͂ȇ̱̯̗x͐ͅp̮͓̂e̝͆ͪͭͅn̳̖̼͌̍̉d͙͊ͣ̊i͇̅̀t̗͈̖ͧ͗̂u̱̖ͪȑ̞̳̾ͪeͤͅ ̖̂̊w̱ͭ̉o̼̫ͨ̓u̦͒ͅl͓̖͛̍ͭͅd̙̉̐́ ̗̖͒̌̅b̜̫̠̂e͍ͬ ͇̫̭̇w͓͖̞͒̍ä͈̰̘s͍̬̟͛̏ṱͣ̃ͪe̩ͯd͚͖͓ͯ

(Drone's analysis insignificant. Host species individuals’ status insignificant. Infected population represents 0.00006942% of current global Host species population.

Number is insignificant and shall be recovered within less than 1 rotation of the planet. Energetic expenditure would be wasted)

Ĉ̳̩̈́͆o͔̩̾̐̆u͉ͭ̇̏n͇ͫͮt̗̅e̞̭̣͛r͚͉͓̆ ͕̔p̟̗̤ͧ̑̏ỏ͓̻̙̇î̦͉ṅ̰͈̚t̬ͪ̉̈:͇̩̝̓ ̻̟ͭ̉͊ͅD̜͕̳̃r̟̱ͮ͌̄ó͉̘͑ͅn̟ͤ̄e̪̳ͫ̂ ͍̞̼͆̄́č̭̹͉a̺̟͊n̗͊ͪ̐ ̯̑s̤̠̦̿u̹̅̂̿p̥̝̍͋͂p̲͚͗̿̋l͖ͦ̿y͇͕̒ͤ͂ ̦̋̄ț̘͌ͭ̓h̗͖̾̍e̗̯ͮ ̭̣ͤ̉̓e̘̰̻̾͑ṇ̖̚e̳̯͋͆̽r͚̠̊ǧ̹͂ỵ͈͐̄̈́ͅ.̠̀͂͛ ̻͎̜͐E̺̪̿n̯̠̜̂ͪ͒e̩͍ͤͮ̚ͅr̺͂ͯ̐g͖̖͑e̙͂t̻́ͭi͍̩̫ͧ͛c̮͌̆̾ ̘̙̏e͇͔̯̋x̯͊p̠̝͆̊̽ͅè̼̱̽n̗̖̆̐̚d̙̂ͣͮḯ̜̺̿̾ͅt͔͓͈̀͊̏u̗̰ͦͫ͛r̦͌e̳͎̩̅ͬ̈́ ͖̝͊͂̋w̗͎͍̔̀̔o̥͑̉u̖̦̹ͭl̥̟ͨd̻̏ͮ̊ ̫̙͓̒b͉̭ͭ̚ȇ̫͈̔ͪ ̦̄a͓̓͒ ̩̦͌̒f̯̩̅͐r̬̟͎̍̎a̹̔ͧ̂ċ͈t͔ͯͧ̋i̜͍͌o̯̔̎ͅn̘ͮ̓ ̙̐̅o̳̼ͪf̠͌̓͒ ̟ͩ͆͂D̮̋̃̚ŕ̦̼̎ͭo͈̮̣̽̋̀n̲͗͂̚e͈̳̚'̪̄̃s̩͛ͥ̑ ̺͇̜̉͐͊c̹̹ͩ͗̓ͅỏ͔͔ͤͧr͍̩͈ͤͬͥȇ̦̘̭̄̉ ͫͤͅó̭u̞̰ͪ̄ͮt̪͎̅ͨ͑p̬̰̗ͬ͐͌u̞͙̗ͭͬͪt͎̑̂ͅ

(Counter point: Drone can supply the energy. Energetic expenditure would be a fraction of Drone's core output)

Her heart produced enough energy to power the entire eastern seaboard, how hard would it be for her to take the energetic burden of a few thousand people’s bodies and minds? Barely anything, right? Her body was so efficient in terms of energy production that she could take that burden. 

It would not cost the Spider anything, even though its own core had the energetic output of a celestial body far eclipsing hers. 

Putting the burden upon herself would go some small, tiny way towards increasing the probability of agreement though, right? The Spider was so obsessed with the efficiency of its data collection... for whatever purpose it desired that information. She had yet to dare to ask, had been working off the assumption of some manner of fiendish plan, but the longer this farce continued the more and more tempting it was to ask.

P͈̲̋͌́ȓ͉̮ͣo̺̣͗̍ͅv͉̉î̦ͣ͛d̺͎̅̔e̬͒͆͆ ͓̲̭̊͂̏s̬̬͙͗ͪͭȕ̼͔͗̚f̘̾ͣf̪̝̳̾̈́̏ḯ̖̳̺͆̊c̼̟̰ͯi̩̥ͣͥͤe̝͌ͣ̄n̲̪ͪt̬͎̪̅̾ ̯̽ȃ̞r̝̟̈́̂ͫg͈̝̒u͖̦̣ͮͬm͎̖̣͗e͓̼̋ͥn̯̟̄ẗ̩̂ͥ ̞̬̮̎f̗͒ͦ͑ò̦ͨr̺̒̀ ͍ͨͭt͓ͮͬ̆h̺͓ͥ̀ē̯͉̤ ̺͍̫̓b̬̼ͯ̾ͦe͉̅n̰̖̎́̌e̦͔ͥ̌f̻̬̀ͅi͔͈̝̔c̟̮͌ͅi͎̘̔̒̆a͈͂̏͌l̥͔̽͆ ͚ͫ̍ͅr̪̠͔͋e̳͉͂́ͨs̞̎ͨ̑ū̙l̳̮̈t̪̲͚̓s̮ͩ͗͒ ̹ͬo̖̒̿f͇̩̪͋ ͍́ͧg̺̬̜ͧ͛r͕ͪͩa̰͇̼ͫ̔̚n̼ͩt̬͈ͣ̄ḭ̑ͩn̯̓́͗ǵ͈̭͙ ͙̻ͬ̆̉f̹ͥu̠͗̅l͇ͨ̂̌l̜̑ͩ̀ ͕͓̎m̖̼̈́ͮô̦͈̙͒ͨṯ͍͋͗̎i͓͈̼̎͗̿l̺̓ͩ̄ḯ̯̞͂t̪͉̓y̤̔ͣ̆.̬̊́̚ ̮̬̍̔P̳͈̓͋ͮr͎ͥͭo̝̹̺͌v̜͌̓ī͓̫̪̂d͚̜̫ͣ͒ͯȅ̖͚͎ ̠́i̪ͨ̂̈n̘̆ͣc̮͔̲͊ȑ̹ͅē̲ͅä̮̺s̜ͣẹ̗̑̽d̻͇̑̒ ̮̍̉͛d̩̦̘̈́a̰̰͈̎t͙̰́͐̈a̜̙͙̿ͨ̃ ̯͋t͈ͭo͖̓ͭ ̤ͭͅj̝͇͌̉̑u̼̩̞ͯs͉̃̎͗t̗͉͍̏̂ͦi̦ͦ̏̉f̦̯̓̿y͈ͧ͐̈́ͅ ̳̙͒e̮ͧͣ̍ͅn͍̥͖̆̿e̩͎ͤ͆̃r̞̭̿ͅg͇̏͌ḛ͕̓t̰̣̫͆ͫ̓ỉ͓͙ć̯̇ ̬̾ĕ͕̭̠x͙̩̏p͎ͬ̍ͮe͉͇͍ͦͤͪn̤̻̾̋̂d̦̰̐͂ͦi͙̍̀ṱ̐u̱ͥ̿r̜̎ͧe̥͍̘ͭ ̬̯̦͛t͇ͨ̐o̘̗ͣ͗ ̠͈ͯa̺̙ͦͫc͚̺̞̔̈h̯̾ͦͅi̤̿͊e͓͈̤̋̌ͨv͓ͦ̌͋e̱̥̹̊̾ͯ ͉ͧͥĉ͕̄o͚̯͈ͯͧu͓̼̗̚r͉̳͔ͪs̥̰̈̃̌e͎͕͋ ̝̦̅o̥͎̍f̰̣͑͊͗ ̦̄́a͔ͩ̈́̿c̬̅͗ͯṭ̱̯̊̏́i̮̓ͫȍ̯ṉ̆̑͊

(Provide sufficient argument for the beneficial results of granting full motility. Provide increased data to justify energetic expenditure to achieve course of action)

A tiny iota of progress! 

It was like her father always said, when it came to negotiation you need to get them to hear you out before you can do anything.

She calmed herself before she could flare her heart too much and cause any humans below them to think the sun was rising.

The Spider was... well, was entertaining the argument the right term? Maybe, or it was at least hearing the argument... she was less hammering her argument against it right now then trying to work around it, needle and goad it perhaps. Speaking with the Spider was something akin to a flow chart... she just wished that every time it moved onto the next step the vastness of its communication did not rattle her metaphorical brain.

V̬̿î̙a̮ͣb̟ͥi̺ͦl̺̐i̝͛t̞ͣy̬ͭ ͚ͭȁ̝s̮͋ ͎̚a̫ͪ ̦̂d̦̎a͎͛t̜ͨa̖̾ ̻̇ċ̬o̜̓ḷ̏ĺ͓ẽ͖c͎̑t̰̅i͉̚õ̳n̹̽ ̻̋ü̩n̗ͮī̤t͎̉ ̭̐t͉̿ị͂e̘͊d̹ͣ ̞͗t̳ͭo͔ͨ ͕͗h͖̐ȍ͍w͙ͦ ̳͗D̳͌r̤͐o͓̒n͓ͦe͚ͦ ̭ͤi̮ͦs̫ͫ ͗ͅṕ͈e̙͋r̬ͣc̱̔e̬̅ĭ̻v̩̌e̥̅d̥ͧ ̱ͦb̺͗y̗ͮ ̮ͯö͍t͈͐h̖͆ě͕r̲ͭ ̦̄h͕̏u̓ͅm͈̏ȃ̩n̺͛s̥͐.̱̈ ̦ͫS̲ͫâ͇v̟̿i̦ͯṉ̓ǧ̫ ̻̆h̪̀u̳ͩm̹͒a̜̽n̼̾s̥ͬ ̘͗i͕̇m̤ͮp̯͒r͓ͤo͓̿v̱̈́e̟̔s̲ͥ ͚͑p͎ͪe̟ͭr̭̽c̗̿e̼ͧp̜ͭt̬ͪi̼ͭo̦͋n̮ͫ.̯̈ ̘̾H͕ͦů̹m̖̍a͓͂n̳͂s̘̔ ̖̐a̤ͫr̼͊ẻ̹ ̬ͪs͚̓o̟̐c͔̏i̱̽a͔ͣḷ͊ ̣ͦc̝̓r̼̂e̫̒a͕͐t͙̿u͉͒r͚ͦȇ̞s͖ͮ

(Viability as a data collection unit tied to how Drone is perceived by other humans. Saving humans improves perception. Humans are social creatures)

H̩̼̒̎o͙̊̋̄ș͙͂ͭt̤̝ͬ̓͒ ̯͉͖̐s̜̝̒̄̃ṕ̫ȇ̹̈̂c̥͒͌̐i̫̰ͪ̚ȅ͇̣ͥ̃s̬̠̘͛ͦͭ ̗͎̖̌ṣ̝͙̿ó͉͍͍̿́c͎͂͛î̪̙a̖̻̼̍͒͑l̮͇̈̐ ̺͊̂̆c̔̐ͅo̺̔ͅn͇͖̓̉ṡ̮̰͋t̫̳ͣ̍ṟ̾͐ͭṳ̣̜̓ͤc̺̪̓͒t͙̍̽͊s̖͈̒̈́ ̻̠͖ͭͯv̯̖̮̓͆ȍ̬͎ͤ̚l͖̝͈̈ͤa̟̗̽͑ͅt̓̊ͤͅi͔͈̼ͨ̋̚l̜̼̔e͎͈͎̓ ̫̺͋̋ͅa͕̙͚̅̃̌n̯̅ͩͪd̲̟͋͗̏ ̖͔̒̐u̬͈͐ͣn̺̳ͭr̟͙͚̆̅e̳̤̿͋ͥͅḷ̯ͮi̳̖͋̄͆a̲͉͛̏͗b̝͔̉ͅl͇̔ͯ̃e̼̒ͫͨ ̪͌

(Host species social constructs volatile and an unreliable resource)

They sure are.

But! It was the social and unreliable society that she existed within that provided the framework for her data collection, which could make or break everything. If Director Piggot or any of her superiors decided, tomorrow, that their plan to 'rehabilitate her' was not going well she could be locked away in a moment, right? So, working within their rules, giving them concessions and successes should be a priority right now, right?

The Spider may not understand the entire thing, or only understand it in a strange, alien manner, but it had seen through her eyes long enough to at least see how her argument would work, right!?

Ṗ̩r̖̽o̲ͭṕ̹o̫͐s̺̒a̼ͦl͈͆:̰ͧ ̩̄s̬̓u͍ͧc͖ͭc̙̔e͎ͤs̤̎s͈ͪf͇͐u̲͛l͓̃ ̤́ȏ̮b̗͒s̝ͭḛͥr̮̔v̩ͨa̙̋t̟̓i̠̎o̞̿ṉ̋ ͇ͨo̩̓f̲͌ ̖ͥP̝̃ã͇r̭̎ȧ̟h̟̎u̻̎m͇̋ä̰́n̦ͦ ͍̀p͇̎ó̠ẘ̭e̻͒ṛͫṣ́ ͔̓s͈̽h̭́a͖̔l̮͐l̦̀ ̩ͯb̳ͦẻ̪ ͙͊r͓͌e͓̽w͖̋a̼̅ṛͩd̻̈ě̱d̟͒ ̰͛w̩͐ĩ̮ṱͧh̫ͪ ͈̽c̲̐o̱͒ň͖c̜ͬe̫̓s̫̒s͙̑i͍ͧo͉̎n̂ͅs̫ͯ ̣̿f̥ͩo͙͂r̜͌ ̝ͨc͙͐r̖͂y̙ͥs̥͛t͔͗aͯͅl̫̾l͓̂i̯̿s̘̀ǎ̦t͖ͫi̗̊o̙͒n̙̿ ͔̉s̞͛u̻͌f̲̃f̺̒e͓ͤr̜͐e̮̾r̝̎š͙ ̼̑ ̳̀

R͎ͤẻ̥w̬̃a̫̐r͇͛d̘͂ ̹ͮs͔ͯy͎͂s̫̈́t̤̃e̮̾m͉̓ ̯ͦs̝̿h̤͊ȁ͈l̘ͨl͇̑ ͉̚m͚̿o̖̓t̤͂i̝ͣv̱̌ä̭́t̘͒ẹ́ ̭͒D̯̒r̝ͯö̗́n̤̽ẻ̹ ̬̊a̝ͧṉ͛ḋ͔ ̜͂āͅc̝ͣt͋ͅ ͛ͅa̭ͣs̠͐ ͎̈'͎̉b͍ͮa̺͌r̘ͭg̲ͥā̻i̩͗n̗̈i̗ͪn͇ͧg̘ͦ ̼̓c̫̈h̬̿í̫p̗̓'̰̓ ͚̓(̜ͥṛ̌ȇ͎f͈ͧė͚r̙ͫe̙͑n̟͊c͓̈e̞ͫ:̪̈ ͓̚'̝͊n̦̔ẽ̘ĝ̹ŏ̗c̲̃i͈̚ạ̽t͉ͦi͍͑o͍̓n̯̾'̰̔)͉̀ ̰̽ŵ͔i̲͑ț͑h̦̔ ͚ͪs͚͑ṷ̿p̻ͧe͖ͪr̳ͣi͎͆o̭ͪr̮͊s̟̃ ̹́f̘̈o͎ͩr̮ͩ ̩ͤf̝́u̠ͥr̝̔t̤ͤh̙̃ḛͭr̫̎ ̫̚d̠ͯa̮͌t̥̔ã̰ ̰̂c̺̃o̞̓l̹ͮl̫̚e͉͐c͚ͨt̹͗i̱ͭõ͙n͚͒

(Proposal: successful observation of Parahuman powers shall be rewarded with concessions for crystallisation sufferers)

(Reward system shall motivate Drone and act as 'bargaining' chip with superiors for further data collection)

There, place the idea on the table.

Currently her data collection was merely the thing she had to do to keep her alive... which was not exactly 'mere' really, but if she could present it to Piggot as something necessary to help with the situation in the Bay then perhaps the PRT would be more active in feeding her Parahumans to analyse, right? And the Gray Boy loops as well, that had supplied a ready source of new powers to examine and grow from as well. 

The PRT would be leery perhaps, worried about all that information going to the Spider but they also knew that she needed it to remain as she was; human on some level. 

Better the devil you know that thinks like a human then the mindless puppet guided by something you cannot understand.

And imagine the good PR as well! 

"Ward finds solution to crystallisation, much rejoicing occurs"

To be fair, the PR aspect would only entice the PRT side of this Venn diagram; the Spider had consumed the vast majority of a major city and was the Four Endbringer... its PR was not down the drain it was tunnelling into the earth's core. Probably tunnelling in search of Behemoth, now that she thought about it.

Ḏ̌̿ṙ̼̼o̩̼͂͂̔n̝̽̑͑ê̝ ͚̥͎̽ͧ̍m͎͔͔ͯo̝̟ͦt̮̞̭͑i͉̓̑̿v̬̠̔̉a͖̞̭͒̑t̜͚̿ȋ̬̱̼̉o͔̘̪̓̉̉n̬̦͕̓͑ͮ ͙̫̈̑̓a͔̒̉̓l̗͂̓͆r̬̜̱̈e͔͆̓a͍ͥd̺̩ͥ̌y͖̏ ̭̙͑t͙̓͐ͫĭ͖̥e͖ͮͯd̪͙ͯ ̮̮̈͑t̠̯̳͂o̜̅̿ ̹̟̄̔̊m̤̜̿̋a̦̍ͅi͇̫̤ͮn̪ͩ̆t͍̑ͤͭǎ̝i͈̜ͧ͛ń̟̘̦̋ͣe̝ͣ̑ň̳̽̒c̥͕̗͌͂̔e̜̳̊ͥ ͉̻̝ͪ̈́̚ǒ̟̻̰͆̀f̜̓ ̰̂̍̃ḭͤ͂n̬͖̦̒d̬͖̽̏̔e͇͍̓͊ͭp͈̦̒̽e̬̣͂n̩͋͌d̲̖̮̒͋e̙̼͆̆n̹͉͇͌̎ͭt̫͎͊ ̫̼͂a͉͍̦̿c͍̚t̟̣͖͂i̼͑ͯo̲̐̿n̜̙̩̓̂ͥ ̹͙ͭ̈́ͤa͎͖͚͆͌́n͇̝ͤ̍ͬd̹̙̿̀̚ ͕̀̊'̰̠̰̌h̠̍ṷ̺̳ͥ̒ͯm̗̻͊̉a̭̳ͣn͈͆̀̀ì͓̖ͪ͑t̲̘̒ͧy̥̦̜ͬ'̟̩̃̄ ͔̦ͤ ̮̥̰̃

R͈̖̰̆̉ē̩͋̏ͅf̜̄e̜̣̓r̯͓ͥ͗͆e͙̾ͦ̑n̥̟ͮ̀c̳̲̽̇̄i̩̲ͯ̚n̪͈͈̄̈́̓g̫̭͂̏ ̪͛̏͊D̺̄̂ͯͅr̦̩̝̓̊o͈̺͎ͮn͙̞̅ͩ̔e͖͍ͬͥ͑'̪̺ͩș̞̼̇ ̮̮̥̔ͨm̹͎̫͂̐ͩe̱̝̫͊̉ͣn̠̬͗t̯̺͚̆a͚͎͐̅l̹̄̇ͮ ͈̀ͨs͎̳ͦt̲̫͇͊r̞͚͕ͬu̩͑c̱̭ͪ̀ͪt̩̝̦͌u̞͂r̗͖ͪ̐̄e͎̣̔š͔ͫ ͖̻͋̎ͬạ̮̊n͚̭̋͋͂d̘̳ͮ̒̈ ̮͌ͥ̈'̹̤̝̎p̮͗͋̋s̲̠̈́͗͐y̳ͮ̒c̪̒h̭͐̏o͎ͬͥl̩͕̻͒͑͆o̭̅̐̈ǵ̜ͮ̾y̜͖ͭ'̟̘̦̊̉

(Drone motivation already tied to maintenance of independent action and 'humanity')

(Referencing Drone's mental structures and 'psychology')

Well, yes... the price of her continued existence as a free mind and will was the data collection, but go ahead, Spider, parse through the observations of how the human mind works, extrapolate, and apply it to other humans; one can be motivated for something, or find more efficient ways to do it by giving others a good reason to assist you! Currently she was reliant upon chancing upon other Capes or examining the powers of those immediately around her. 

But having them bring her powers in return for saving people would be much easier.

The Spider had just sat there unmoving for two years, using her to collect data, but if she could do the same and increase the efficiency then surely it would see the benefit!

The fact that the Spider took several seconds said a lot about the quantity of information it was looking over and having to compare... strange, it could calculate such ridiculously vast sums in a moment but human behaviour was far more time intensive.

F̪̞̠͒o̦̐̅ͯr̰̓̈́ ͍̽̑͛e͔̥̿͌a̰̓ͪc̳͐h̘ͦ ̦̱̂'͔ͭP̰̮̈ͅa̬͇̭̅r̭̝̘̉a͖͇͑̊͆h̘͕͙̓̐u̦̱ͧ͆ͦm͚̰̻ͨ̿̚a͍̝̦̒͑̀n͚̳̤ͧͭ ̟͔̾̾p̫̱̻̃ō͙̉̓w͔̖̝͒e͉͈ͧ̄ṟ̬ͧ̿'̦̻͋̍̇ ̮̙̥̉ͦo͖̝͍͆b̲ͤ́̀s̞ͧ͑ͬe̫̥͌ͣr̖̠̫̒v̤̿̍̋e͓̐̄̄d̗͒͌ ͕͋ͪ̄b̼̍y͕͍͖̅ͮ ̻̩̌ͬD̺̗̹̋ͩr̜͛̏o̼͆͐ͅn̘ͪ̉͒e̖͐̓,̞͖̅ ̬̜̰ͭͥ̓1̙̝͕̓ ͈̺͉ͯH̬͒̑͛o̪͙ͯ͊̂s͈ͨͭͤt̪̺͇̔ͦͦ ̟̓͊S̮ͬ̾̏p̗̔̌è͚̬̄ͣc̜͚ͦ͆̋i̗̻̓e͙̮͙͌̅s͕ͣ ̞ͩ͗̽ǘ͈̓͒n̪̮̒ͤ̍ḍ̯̋̇̓ẽ̯̲̲ͣͬr͓̘͔̾̾͋g̳ͯ̓̿o͖̭ͪi̼͕̠ͥ̔͆n̻̽̈́ḡ̞̞ ͔͚͗̂͒c̤̼̟ͮ̓̊r̤̹̐̐̃y̠̞ͯ͛s͔̜̑͊t̞̂̃ͧa͙̮ͩ̂l̯͎̃̽̑l̞͐͐i̱̠̰ͤ͑ṣ͊a̻̳̗̽t̤̃î̪̖͔o̠̊̌n̟ͭ̈ ̲̦̉̎͐ș͈͚̍̋h̻̿́a͇̱̗ͧ̈ͩl̺̋̉͒l̩̞ͭ ̭̱̪̏ͧ̊r̺ͯe̩̿ͪg͎̲̿̈a͕̹ͪi̜͗̉n̪͔̉/̰̦͋̀m̩͚̅̓̚ả̻̘i̦͎̗͛̈n̘ͬ̐ͣt̙͂a̰͋̈́ͤi͍̯ͬ̿n̜̜̈́ ̻̑f̝̤͉ͬū̮͉l͍͋̈̓l͍̺͈͐̍ ̻̞ͮ̃̈́m̦̪̔́o̺̞ͮ̀t̜̞͔̄ͦͯi̜ͥͅl̮̤͑̍ͧi̠͊̅t̙̗͎͐̅̚y̭̼͛͛ͣ

C͚̬̙̏r̻̓̓y̞̣̽s̜̫̎t͈͓̄̈a̹̗͂ͮ̅ͅĺ̳̣̯̎̀l͙̮̖ͤ̌̿i̯͆s̱͎ͤͫ͛ͅa̬ͫ̔t͚̤̊̓̽ï̤̭̋̏ȍ̪̩̲̽͑n̮̬̓͒ͅ ̱̤̔p̯ͨ̎r̭̫̒̒o̩̦ͯ̄c̱͕̥ͯͬe̮͓̋ͩ̅s̱̥̄̈͒s͚̮̝͌ ̱̜̍̆w͙̐ḭ̐̌l̘̞̐l͖̹̽̃ ̗̱̮̐̒͌c̥ͦ͊o͓͗ͨ͋n̲ͪṯ̘̅i͈͆̒́n̞͎̼͛̌ͩủ͉̯̖̓̽ẹ̎ ̯ͥu̜ͮ͆n͖̝̰ͤĩ̳̾m͎͋̈́͐p̰̮̿̈́̃e̜̟͚ͬd͉̠̙ͮe͎̣̓d͓̓

(For each 'Parahuman power' observed by Drone, 1 Host Species undergoing crystallisation shall regain/maintain full motility)

(Crystallisation process will continue unimpeded)

... She had rather hoped it would be a bit better of a rate than that, one for one was... she would need to observe thousands of powers to save everyone!

That was---oh, that was the point of it, to force her to maximise her data collection, saving ten people per power would be much too efficient, she would only have to observe a few hundred but this way... if the Spider was going to make the concession, then it was going to drain her for every drop of data that it could wring from her. 

But it was something, she was slowly learning how to negotiate with the Spider. It would always be an imbalanced relationship and position to argue from, baby steps Taylor... baby steps. 

One for one. 

The point that Aimee had made about like for like... it had worked, sort of. Trading collected data on Parahumans for the betterment of others, something to bring to the PRT on the Spiders (and her own) behalf, a small concession at her own cost that benefited everyone... sort of.

She had a lot of work to be doing, and she needed to speak with the higher ups at some point soon.

It was a few hours later, as the sun began to rise over Brockton Bay, that an opportunity arose.

"Ordinant!" blared through her earpiece suddenly, she would have flinched if she had ear drums. "The convoy ahead is being attacked, looks like Merchants! They’ve got some sort of heavily armoured vehicle supported by others managed to break through the side barricades to get onto the roads!"

She was already accelerating forwards, heart flaring and ready to hold the Spider to their agreement.

Chapter Text

Taylor shot along the highway, moving ahead of the convoy she had been escorting once she got the all clear.

The attack had been a mile ahead, a decent enough distance to cover but far less troublesome by air, in truth it was not that hard to see where the action was occurring.

She had heard the term 'big rig' before, but this really was a big rig. It actually defied belief, like, it was impractically huge and kind of impressive that nobody, in the limited remaining space of Brockton Bay, had noticed the titanic vehicle that looked large enough to classify as a goddamn ship. It even had freaking weapon mounts on it, like... how do you build something like this in Brockton Bay, when there is barely any space for people to live in?

Insignificant, she had to focus on the problem at hand.

The improbable rig had burst onto the road and blocked the lanes of traffic, forcing the convoy to stop at which point members of the Merchants had gotten out to threaten the drivers, oh, and there as a Cape among them?

It was the tactic mentioned before, when she went out to escort her first convoy; they would hit and run, impede one of the convoy vehicles and grab everything possible before making a get away; it was not like most of the Brockton Bay Capes could really do much about a gigantic vehicle. Hell, it looked like it had been so sudden that one of the trucks had not stopped in time, its front was mangled as if it had crashed into the tinkertech vehicle, and was the worse off of the two from doing so.

But right now the obstruction was not moving, and she was closing in quickly.

Like ants, there were people swarming around it, grabbing loose material and a giant grabber arm had extended from some part of the tinktertech vehicles back to grab hold of an entire pallet and was rapidly moving it into position.

The Cape in charge on the ground was... well she was not really sure, actually, their body was so covered in bits and pieces of stuff; scrap metal from the crash, packets of supplies that had been shaken loose, bits of road ripped up. There had been a provisional PRT document on him after the last raid... Muzh? No wait, that was just the bad handwriting, it had been Mush.

A Changer, right?

Observe. Extrapolate.

P̥͑ã͉̌̍r̮ͭa͍͂ͬd̰ͬ͛̾i̭̍̎̌g̤̭̽ͤṁ̜͖̮ ̰͕̥̾͋͒I̝͒̚n̜̆̆f̦̪ͣͧ̚l̠̺ͮa̭̭ͬṱ̝̅ͪî̹̩ͥ̃o̞̭̒n̹̄̇:̺͓ͨ ̱̱̄V͖͎͍ͣ́̇o͇ͥl̩͇̿͛̋u̜̿ṋ̞̖ͭ̇͊t̤͉̼͛a̟͕ͣ̈r͚̺̅̿̈́i̮̜̜͐̃ͦl̬͈̤̊̈́̽ỵͥ̾̅ ̮̰̳̉̏̑ṱ̒̐̚r͍̖ͩ̈́i͍̦̐͌g̣͍̏̔͐ġ̫͚e̥̲ͮr̭̋̅̌ḁ͋ͥb̫̫̋̃l̳ͨ̉͑ȇ̙̻̘̍̒ ͕̐a̤̻ͦ̏̊l̺͌ṯ̹͍ͬ͌e̩̖̣̍ͪr̼̮̥̾͆n̥ͯ͊ͧḁ͚͖͐̾̆ț̥͛̌ͅe̹̱̟ͯ ̮̪̹̒̚s͕̫̮̐t̘̰ͯ͒̒a̞̞͑ͅt̲͂͂ͥe͔̭̞͂ͨ̿ ̞ͤ ̣ͭ̈͐

(Paradigm Inflation: Voluntarily triggerable alternate state)

̩̙̽A̗̥̽l͈̞̠̓t̪͍͍ͯe̱̫̍r̬̺͂ͤn̖͋̄ͧa͔̯͛̿t̯̅̈̒e̦͊̃ ̤̉̂ͮs̼̤̪̃̚ṯ͕̠ͪ̓̾a̭̯̐t̺͍̫͊ẹ̭̣̆ ͇͍͎̂í̟̩̻͗s̝̒̽̏ ̬̅͑ǎ̝͍̱r̖͋m̗̎ͦo̩̒̽r͙͖͚͋p̞̭̫̂̽̉h͓̥̦ͭ̍o̹ͣͅu̜̜͂s̮͎̤͋ ̗̜̃̉́a͈̘ͧ͐̑n̺̮͆ͭd͉̞̼͋̆ͪ ͎̪̖̀f̙ͪ̄o̺͕̳̔̿̚c̼͑u͚͚̔̌̚ṣͧ͌̎ḛ͍̟̒s͇͗͌̅ͅ ͖͂̒o͔̽͊n̲̙̖̏̓ ̬͌ͨd̦̗ͮr̲̖͙̍̋ȧ͕͔̣̽w̙ͣͯi̮̘̙ͧn͉̟ͥͤg̝͓͊̃ ͙̻͎͋t̬͒ͯo̤̭͂̍̀g̖̚e̦ͪ̓t̟̝̗͂h̝̹͉ͤe̼̩̰ͬͦ͒r̰̣̫ͨ́͗ ͕̄̎l̟̬͉͛̒ͯo̠̫̹͑c͍̤̐ͥā̬̟l̗̏i̫̻͕͆ș̤̩͋ȇ̬̹̈̄d͈͓͖͗ͭ ̪̖̿̽̚d͕ͮ̀ẽ̤̝̇b̖ͭͬr͖ͥ͌̇i͈̠̲̾̚s͕̉̃̚ͅ ̩͈̭ͤͬa͈ͣ̑ǹ̰̏͐d̼̋͑ͭ ͚̆̂͒o̜̺̿̋b̝͈̅ͧj̠̣ͤe̦͍ͩ̓c̪̖͗͆t̠͒̐ͨs̘͋͛ͫ ͈̝͓ͨ̋̒t̫̯ͭ̊̀o̼̙̊̽ ̪̮ͧ̀c̰̤͈̈́̃r̮͗e͚̖͗a̬͕ͤt̙̥͚ͤe̱͉̫ͬ̿̎ ̜͑̒̀a̺͎̽̍̀n̞͊ͧ ̳͉͋ͭͅs͙̻̓̀e̤̟͖̅́l͕͎͎ͧf̰̯̩̎-̜̰ͥd̻͖̘̐i̮̦̹̓͐̅r̗̬͒̿ͩe̠̗͎ͮ̈́c̫̠̰̅t͈̒e̖͉̬̾̐͑d͍ͬ͐ ̙̈́͑ͅf͉͌̒̎ò͚̊r̘̪͕̈́̂m̼̃ͣ.̩̐̂̎

(Alternate state is amorphous and focuses on drawing together localised debris and objects to create an self-directed form)

E̗̹̾ͨx̤̍͒̒t̰̣͓͂r̯̉̍̚a͔͌ṗ̞̱͎͛o̹ͭl͎̟̣ͪa̯͖͊ͅt͎́͂e̩̜͉̔d̖́̉ ̤ͪ̐c̩̻͊̎̄a͖̜ͨ̏p͈̼ͫa̯̘̚c͓̣̩͛i̝̒̐ͫt̞̬̐y͎̿̓̅ ̻͎̮̇̍̿ẗ̤̟́o̖̳ͫ ̘̟͕͆ͮḙ̞̫̎̑ͦx̦̾̊p̯̟̫̔a͇̓̿̋n͉͆̓d̲̼̋̓̐ ̯́ͮa̲̪̓ṇ̝͊ͪ̾d̤̒̈ͥ ͖̈́d̲̓e͉͇ͤ̐ͅv̦̌̈ë̦̖̟̇́l̖̠̿ͅo͈͇̳͑p͍̻ͥͥ ͓ͣf̩̪̮̐u͂ͅr̰͊̄ẗ̮̖̍̿h̹̽̄e̺ͫr̪̓ ͍̺̬̿̓̌d͎̲̻͋͛e̫̤̿ͮp̫͐ḛ͓̍n̹̪͍̑d̥̟̙͋͌̈e̼̟͊n͍͐ͤṫ̳̺̒̾ ̘̍ö́̌ͅn̖͓͊ͫ ̰͔͐ḽ̙̖̌o̖̬͆̓c͇̜̈́̆͌ͅa̤̙̘ͮl̖ͪͯ ̝̜ͬ̌̿ͅa͍̙̤ͭv͓̩ͭ̐̇a̼̼ͧi͈͇̪ͪȁ̠l̺̑b͙͉̉ͫl͈̉e̤̯͑ ̻̜͗̑̔ͅm͚͊à͎̻͔s͇ͩ̽s̜̥̒̃̎.̺̺̠ͤ

(Extrapolated capacity to expand and develop further, dependent on local available mass)

A power observed, data collected, feeding back to the spider. Although clearly the Merchants had a Tinker or two as well, judging by... well... the battleship in the form of a truck.

... There were so many ways to deal with all this situation, though.

All the drivers had been forced out of the trucks and to the side of the road, where four Merchants had guns trained on them as well... jesus this was a grim sight.

She levelled her hand to point at the giant vehicle and began directing energy from her core, still a hundred metres away.

Purity's beams.

Taylor had taken one to the arm... in the end, it was just light shaped in a particular way that had a physicality to it.

It was not exactly difficult to make use of her core's output in a similar way... it was just destructive. She had seen the videos and after effects of Purity's rampage; the pictures of the Dockworkers Union building, held in her father's white knuckled grip had been committed to memory.

How much power to put into this... one-hundred percent of what her arm endured? Perhaps two-hundred percent actually, just in case the vehicle had some manner of Tinker bullshit to make it especially tough... but that might punch a hole through the road if she was not careful--- also, they needed to move this behemoth of a vehicle out of the way when all this was over... so she couldn't just destroy the engine block or the wheels to make sure the vehicle could not get away.

Okay, maybe she would not use Purity's beams against the truck then.

To hell with it.

She focused on the Merchants holding the drivers at gunpoint, focusing her attention on their weapons.

She could increase the gravity on them, force each man to the ground in a moment, which would probably shatter a few bones... or she could focus the gravity on their weapons to force them to the ground and maybe crush a few hands... or perhaps destroy them with Purity's beams? There would be a risk of hitting them... but keeping the drivers safe was a priority.

Or, she could just hit them with several solutions at once.

It was not as if she was limited.

She stretched out the Revolution Web from her hair, wrapped the alien threads around the ends of the guns and jerked them to the side, away from the drivers even as she increased the gravity on the men, flooring them all at once.

She moved just above the ground between the Merchants and the drivers, reaching out to touch the surprised drivers and freezing them in place. Clockblocker's power basically made people invulnerable, after all. A rather limited form of invulnerability of course

The entire thing took no more than a few seconds.

The Merchants were responding, a few that were not screaming their heads off or backing away were moving to the truck, others were panicking and shouting 'Cape!' and yet more were grabbing more weapons or looking to Mush.

The full element of surprise had been lost, but that was fine, prioritise the drivers and civilians, divide and conquer the problem, break it down piece by piece and neutralise it. There were three threats; Mush, the unpowered Merchants, and the huge, heavily armed truck.

The former was slow to react, he was still gathering his detritus, and the unpowered Merchants had begun moving towards the vehicle, probably aiming to get onto the weapon emplacements, right?

A display of force was needed, she just needed to break their will and then she could deal with Mush.

She rose up into the air.

'Keep the collateral damage to a minimum, don't hurt anyone.'

Just destroy the emplacements, the threat.

She aimed for the one at the back, closest to where the panicking humans were clambering onto the vehicle, and fired.

The beam melted it like butter, and she drew the beam swiftly from one side to the other, blasting a hole through the roof of the truck and reducing the emplacements to molten slag. It was not even the power of the beam Purity had struck her wish; just enough to ruin the weaponry and send a signal. There was no point resisting. She could crush them, they would be safe if they surrendered. 

"Stand down!" she demanded.

Mush threw a pallet at her.

She had made every effort to keep the collateral damage down!

She floated to the side; did he want to try and take her by surprise whilst she was firing on the truck?

She captured the pallet in her revolution web as it flew by, jerking her along with it before she regained control of her movements. Honestly, there was enough food in the pallet to feed thousands of people, once it had been rehydrated!

Fine then!

As tempting as it would be to return fire using the beams, or create a giant iron spear like she had against Leviathan, she held back on the urge.

Focus on Mush, remove gravity around him... humans really act comically when gravity creases. Just watching Mush suddenly begin flailing his various tendrils and pseudopods of debris, using them to reach down and grip onto the edges of the crater he had ripped up from the road... all rather amusing. She most certainly did not take pleasure in wrapping him in Revolution Web and hauling him up into the air. He almost looked like a squirming fly that had been caught by a spider... actually, that comparison was distasteful.

Next, the truck.

Stop it from escaping, leave it intact enough to move though, already there was a distant rumble of an engine starting up. She could not just destroy it... well she could, but the highway needed to be as intact as possible, Mush's damage aside, and if she started unleashing Purities lasers everywhere then there would be a lot of repairs to do.

The vehicle did not have anything so convenient as doors at the side of the cab to get in, or if it ever had, they had been replaced with sheets of solid metal instead... but there were still gaps in the panelling, so she simply liquified her body. Once this power had been used to attack her... becoming liquid mercury was not exactly something enjoyed, not that it felt wrong of course, she had made use of it against Leviathan, it was just a case of practicality.

She had another power to shrink down to smaller sizes, but just flowing through things was easier.

... The driver, a woman with an outfit so crass she may as well be naked, screamed as Taylor oozed and flowed into the cabin at a pitch that made her semi-liquid form vibrate, it was a proper chipmunk voice. The sort that made a person's ears hurt.

Well, she supposed it would be a little horrifying to see a face suddenly begin forcing itself through an inch wide gap in the panelling of the cap and then reach out with an arm. She took the woman by the neck, the first part of the body that she could really reach and which would give her good control over the situation--- oh, her Ether Drinker was draining her?

So she was a Cape, then, interesting.

... Of course, now she was trapped in the cabin with her, and Taylor looked around, ignoring the various somewhat weak blows being directed her way. The front of the cabin was filled with buttons and levers more suitable for a piece of industrial equipment... or a tank maybe? Well, she could not really judge, it was not like she was a Tinker.

A wheeze from the woman informed Taylor that she was struggling to breathe.

Oh, right, people did that.

It had been less than two weeks since she drew her last, life sustaining breath, it was easy to forget sometimes.

"Sorry for that."

She was not really sure why she was apologising to somebody stealing food from literal disaster victims, but she said it anyway.

"Hey, where's the door?"

"Fack you!"

Eloquent. Maybe she should have deprived her of air for a few moments longer? Nah, that would be too far, hm... did it count as a form of police brutality if it was a PRT or Ward's member? The Ward's pamphlet she had read months ago had gone some ways to caution against 'unreasonable force' but what was reasonable against people with superpowers?

Anyway.

In lieu of finding the door, she just made one, directing energy from her core into her other hand until it was red hot and using it like a blade to cut a rough rectangle. It took a couple of seconds and the woman was still screaming her ears off, but it was the results that mattered. Floating out into the open air with the Cape in tow, back into the open air of the Brockton Bay morning.

"Squealer!" there were cries going out, people were looking to the front cabin of the truck.

Squealer was her name? It was not a very flattering title, some small part of Taylor thought. Then again... Annul had been her first name as a Cape, so she could not really complain.

Well either way, she left Squealer floating a few metres above the ground, forgotten, and gilded until she was a few metres above what was left of the unpowered Merchant crew. There were sirens beginning to blare, the first response... normally that would be the thing to get them moving, they would take whatever they had plundered and get away on the super-truck. Although without its driver and the heavy support, that option was gone; the only logical thing to do now was surrender.

"You can all give up now."

One Merchant revealed a shotgun---

... Really?

Would it even do anything of note? She was genuinely curious; she had been broken and shattered by Leviathan and repaired herself, so what was a shotgun blast? She could simply flare her core and blind the man (possibly permanently) to stop him from taking aim, she could instantly crush him with her gravity and reduce him to a red stain on the road or drain the very heat from his body, there was a thousand ways she could stop him, but she didn't.

BLAM!

She glanced down at the small crater in her chest left behind by the shell, there was a moment's pause as all the Merchants did as well.

"What the fuck man don't shoot a fucking Ward!" one guy, presumably the one currently in possession of the braincell between them, screamed.

Taylor had gone to the effort of trying to reduce the damage, make sure that nobody lost their life and yet despite the clear gulf they still tried to shoot her? It was almost admirable; she supposed a lot of Capes could not just take a slug to the chest.

She stared at the man with the gun and crossed her arms over chest.

"... I'll pretend you didn't do that if you put down the gun."

Sheepishly, he put down the gun. A few others yielded their weapons to the tarmac as well.

"Okay, if you don't cause any more trouble and let me tie you up with my threads then we can say you were part of this little raid and you won't get charged with attempted murder, alright?"

Well, she could not guarantee that but to be honest, diffusing the situation was more important. She could just leave them all floating about in the air like their bosses, but she may as well give them a chance right, it was not as if she knew all their circumstances. Maybe a few of them had been press ganged into this? She could only hope so, and that this could be an opportunity for them to turn their lives around.

Reluctantly, there were nods of agreement.

She tied them up with threads, and then reached up to her ear.

"Ordinant to console; I've stopped the ambush, got Mush and another possible Cape called 'Squealer', nobody from the convoy got hurt but there's now a giant fucking truck here, might need somebody to reverse it back off the road"

"Do you think you can reverse it?"

"... I'm fifteen."

"Ah... of course."

"Anyway, is somebody on the way? There's like... twenty people here."

"Assault, Battery and Dauntless are enroute."

"Good to hear... I'll just... hang around."

The convoy that she had been escorting was just about visible in the distance, having slowed down to give her time to deal with the problem here. Hopefully they were all in radio contact and had let their superiors know... actually. Handling a scene after a Cape fight was a delicate matter, but she would have to do her best.

First things first... the drivers.

They were still frozen in time, she had set it to last for five minutes or so, that had seemed in the moment like more than enough time for the situation to be taken care of, and in truth... it had taken a lot less than that. So, she waited patiently for the effect to end. When it did, they blinked, there was a jolt of surprise to see that the Merchants threatening them had disappeared, and then looked around until eyes settled on her.

"Hey, you guys all alright?" she asked.

It took a moment for them to adapt to the new situation.

"... Yeah, got shaken up pretty bad," each of them was in the army, but Taylor rather doubted that they did anything more than basic... although she really should brush up on her knowledge of the military at this rate, between this and her inability to tell ranks apart, her ignorance was getting rather in the way of her work.

"No injuries?"

"Few scrapes and bruises but that's it, thanks, errr... Ordinant."

"Just glad nobody got hurt... sorry about whoever's truck got totalled."

"At least the airbag went off," was the somewhat nasal, muffled comment of a man who looked to have a rather severe nosebleed and a developing black eye.

"You the driver?"

"Yeah... I don't think I'll be volunteering for first position again any time soon."

There were a number of somewhat strained chuckles at that.

"Just so long as you are alright, that's all that matters," she said, and tried to smile encouragingly at him. "Also, err, don't want to trouble you guys much but do you think you can move the big truck?" she gestured towards Squealer's creation. "Or else you guys might be here for a while before the convoys can move again."

"... I'll give it a go if nothing else," one said, cracking his knuckles.

"Thanks."

Now it was just a case of waiting for the PRT to arrive to take care of Merchants she had captured.

The sun was now rising properly above Brockton Bay, as in, it was beginning to feel like day.

As the team of drivers began to look over Squealer's Rig and swear loudly as they questioned its operation, Taylor waited patiently.

She had analysed the power of Mush, that was one person potentially saved from full paralysis, but there was another. Squealer was still flailing about a few metres away, turning head over heels as she went. Her loud chipmunk voice was rather ruining the rather scenic sunrise, it was grating even to somebody made of solid rock. Still, it did raise a question... if she had been able to perform Paradigm Inflation on Mush, then could she have a go at using it on Squealer?

Moving over she righted Squealer in the air, stopping her slow cartwheeling movement, and then gripped her by the head to hold her in place.

The woman stared back, confused and pupils dilated.

"Don't move, I just need to look you over for a second."

"What---

"Don't talk either, your voice is annoying."

She looked, really looked.

She extended all her senses, she fed as much information about the woman as she could to the Spider, she altered her own perceptions, she used the power of that one chiropteran cape. She took in as many details as she could.

... There was not enough data... she was trying to feed back everything, trying to give the Spider enough for a full Paradigm Inflation but there wasn't enough.

Even scanning the big truck did not help much, she could not learn how this power worked just through observation, it was infuriating. Was it because the power was all mental? She had never been able to observe the powers of Armsmaster or Chris either, but she had just presumed that was because they were Tinkers... did she have to put her hand through the woman's freaking skull?

She wasn't about to kill a woman for that, if Taylor had spared Bakuda then she would spare Squealer, even though it could be another human being freed from the paralysis of the crystal.

"How many others are there?" she demanded.

"What?"

"Other Capes, in the Merchants."

"Like I'm gonna---"

The clenching of her hand was definitely not intentional, even if it did put enormous pressure on the woman's skull. It was just an irritable spasm, a human instinct and relic of her bygone body. She released Squealer and left her floating in the air, ignoring the various shouts and profanities directed her way, pleading and begging to be put back on the ground. Instead, she reached up to her earpiece.

"I'll leave it to the PRT to ask you then," she said, and floated away, done with that conversation.

Be calm, disperse her emotions, she was a hero. Look calm and composed. She crossed her arms over her chest as she floated there, waiting, surveying the damage to the convoy and the various flailing Merchants. Mush was still struggling in his cocoon, she made sure to keep him nice and far away from everyone else in case he broke free and lashed out.

As the convoy driver attempted to work out how to work the giant truck Taylor watched, waiting. Atop a nearby building, a camera crew was filming, it took her a moment to take notice of them. They were on top of one of the taller buildings nearby, were it not for the flash of a lens she might not have seen them at all.

Joy, the thread about her would probably explode again with responses.

She made a point of giving them a little wave their way, to show them that she was aware of their presence, and then directed her thoughts towards the real matter at hand.

D͓̑r̩͑o̠̾n͎ͭe̬ͩ ̼̚w͊ͅa̦ͩs̳̾ ͍̓ṡ͇u̜͂c̙͑c̰̄ẻ̳s͓ͪs͎̏f̤̓u̳͆l̪ͩ ͙̉a̩ͫn͓͐d̘ͯ ̗̂h̫̊ä̹s̮̉ ͓ͧr͔͒e̖̓t̗͑r̙̆i͎̚e̬̽v̜̔e̺ͧd͖ͫ ͈̃d̖̅a͓̓t͇̎a̲ͦ ͙̈ȯ̲n̹͆ ̹ͬt̲̀h͕͑ḛͪ ̞̌P͚̽a͉̓r̞ͭa͙͛h̞̒u͖͂m̜̐a̪ͣn̜͆ ̣̓'̝ͪM̪̐ǘ̖ś̞h̦ͯ'͔̎

(Drone was successful and has retrieved data on the Parahuman 'Mush')

She was not so presumptuous as to try and fleece the Spider, or suggest that she had collected enough about Squealer to qualify. She supposed that now she could make use of Mush's power, at least. It would be quite useful, perhaps... drawing in debris to armour herself further, or creating new limbs out of it.

Rather inelegant compared to just moving things around with gravity well, but still.

Naturally, she did not need to wait long for a response from the Spider at all.

D͙̐r̙͐o̜ͬṇͥẻ̲ ͕͒m̼̓ā͚y͓ͦ ̳ͬŝ̩ẻ̺l͎̒ḛ̈́c̼͐t͙̾ ͉̑1̰ͮ ͇͐i̯̽n͍͊d̳ͨî͙v̻ͩi̞̋ḏ̽u̖̾a͕ͯl̮̍ ̺̓H̥͂o̲͂s̪͗t͉́ ̱ͤs͓͒p͓̿e̥ͩc̬͋i̜̾ḛ̓s̺̿ ̜́û̬n͇̄d̫ͥe͍̐r̩͋ḡ̫õ͙i̲̍n̗̆g̞̏ ̘̀c͇̊r͉ͦy̺ͨs̯͆t̤̒a̙̓l̞̂l̥͌i̤͛s̟ͣa̩̔ť̙ĩ̠ó͔n͔̔ ̲̾c̪̾o̝̽n̺ͣv̦ͨe͉̎r̮ͬs͔̋i̺͐o͙ͦn̙̂ ̥ͤt̙͆o͇͑ ̱͑g̻̔ṛͬa͎͌n̗͌t̮̿ ̲̄f͕̾u͉̍l͇ͤl͍̀ ̗ͧm̯̓o͔ͪb̟ͩi̲̓l̪͐iͬͅt̼̃y͕͊

(Drone may select 1 individual Host species undergoing crystallisation conversion to grant full mobility)

It actually held up the agreement.

She... actually felt relief.

As the equivalent to adrenaline faded, as her thoughts calmed she was unable to help from feeling joy. She could save somebody... they would still crystalise, sure, but they could move at least, and if they could move and live their lives then surely, they would not need to be atomised! But who, who to save... could she save somebody who was fully crystallised? That was objectively the best thing to do, to help one of those people who were trapped, screaming in their own heads...

She could bring this to the PRT, show what a difference she could make, and from there they could feed her more and more Parahumans.

She could push to continue breaking Gray Boy loops, after all, they produced a steady supply of Parahumans

By the time the other heroes arrived, the crew of drivers had worked out how to put the truck into eighteenth gear and then reverse, deployed the cup holder, poured a banana daiquiri from a converted coffee maker, and tuned into a radio station in Los Angeles, but were now slowly having the titanic construct reverse down the ramp onto the highway by increments.

Chapter Text

When convoy duty came to its end for the day, or, to be more correct, when she had done the very maximum amount of work that the PRT could legally give her without enraging the Youth Guard, Taylor returned to base. She entered via the top of the building; the other Wards had to be concerned with their identities and being caught coming and going but that was not a problem for Taylor. So long as her father was staying here, everything close to and which mattered to her was in this building.

There was a debrief about the events of the night upon her return.

She gave as many details as she could, which was not an inconsiderable amount considering the quality of her memory, but it was a routine conversation on the matter. It was Miss Militia who handled it, who gave her a smile whilst congratulating her on her hard work.

"It wasn't even that hard," she had wanted to say.

But she didn't, because that would rather put down the efforts of everyone else who was working so hard but had failed to stop the convoy attacks.

She was just in the right place at the right time to make a difference... and with the tools and ordinance to handle the matter better than others, that was all

"I am sure that bringing in those two will help to make a real difference, Squealer's vehicles were a real nightmare for us to deal with," Miss Militia had concluded.

"Thanks, ma'am."

"When it's just the two of us, Hannah is fine."

She now knew Miss Militia's name! It made some small, childish part of her that she had forgotten in recent days happy to know. It was such a small, insignificant little thing, but it was fundamentally human to know and care for others' names. She committed the moment to memory, even if it was just a small little interjection on the other Capes part, it mattered to Taylor.

Did she make mention of the deal she had made with the Spider? Or did she hide it, bide her time until she had been able to grant mobility to somebody, to further force their hand?

In the end, she did not make mention of it to Hannah, the meeting came to its end with another thanks and an order to get some rest before her next patrol... quite what she would do with that time being another matter, it wasn't even ten in the morning.

She began floating along, musing what to do with herself---

"Oi," it took a moment for Taylor to realise that it was her that was being addressed, she turned in place to see Shadow Stalker stood not far from where she had emerged into the hall. Had she just had her own post-patrol debrief and report? Probably, Sophia's voice was gruff, which probably meant she was in one of her vaguely irritable moods. Indeed, she at once went on to say, without waiting for a greeting; "heard a convoy got attacked?"

"Yeah, stopped it though and managed to drag in two of the capes in the Merchants."

Shadow Stalker nodded.

"Fucking bottom feeders..."

"Yeah... attacking the convoys seems especially scummy when they are already struggling to feed everyone."

Shadow Stalker shrugged, and after a moment moved up to Taylor's side.

"Cities probably fucked as it is, I heard they are planning to begin relocating folks to other places."

"... Really?"

"Who wants to live in a city that's mostly crystal?"

Why did those words sting so much?

"It will go with time, and then there will be an empty city that people can live in," Taylor said.

Sophia gave her a look; she did not go as far as to raise a brow but the look said enough.

Would Brockton Bay really be abandoned? Left for those desperate enough to stay, with nowhere else to go? It was not as if most folk had enough money to just up and go, move from an economically depressed city, and buy new homes in a place doing better. Prices in Boston were much higher than in Brockton Bay... so all the rich people would leave for there and everyone else would have to struggle to get by in what was left? Or would property developers sweep through, snap up all the much cheaper, post-crystallised land and then exploit it?

How horrific...

"You on patrol last night?"

"Yeah... not much going on, but Assault said something about fighting between some new group that's come in, not many details yet though, and then after that he rushed over to you, probably why it took him and Dauntless awhile."

"New group?" she questioned, the moment she stopped the conversation moving forwards would be when Sophia also went quiet, this burst of communication terminated.

"Some freaks with all sorts of duplication powers, rattled the folks upstairs that they got away."

Taylor hummed in agreement. Duplication powers, if they were Shaker effects then she could be useful against them, at least. More powers to analyse, more data to gather and people she could save---

"C'mon, got pizza waiting."

Amazing how Shadow Stalker could use as few words as humanly possible to communicate a point, she had already turned her back on Taylor and was walking away.

"Pizza for breakfast?"

"Leftovers from last night, local place sent them..."

Ah. Well, some establishments probably had a bit left over or sent it to the PRT as a thanks, maybe? Rather made her wonder if it was screened for drugs and poisons before it came in... knowing Armsmaster he probably had some manner of machine to detect anomalous materials. But the idea of using such a device to analyse pizza made her lips twitch and some small levity hit her before she realised it.

It was just her and Sophia; Chris and Carlos were on patrol and Gallant was undergoing the torture that was a meeting with PR, probably his quarterly one.

The pizza box was lifted from the table and put into a somewhat old and abused looking microwave; within a minute the loud beeping had Sophia removing what remained, just four slices of what had once been an extra-large pepperoni, by the looks of it. Dean and Dennis' favourite, whilst Missy loved tuna and sweetcorn as her topping of choice. Thinking about it, Taylor had no idea what Carlos liked, he was pretty easy going, so long as it was edible he would enjoy it.

Unless it had olives.

"Here," Sophia split the congealed slices apart, roughly pushing half of it her way.

"Ah, I'm good, it's not like I need to eat," she apologised.

"... Just eat the pizza, we might not get any more for ages."

It was an attempt at being friendly, at camaraderie, the first she had really seen from Sophia.

The two of them had worked and fought together against Leviathan, they had made quite a good search and rescue team, didn't they?

And then she had done the one thing that Sophia had told her not to and tried to play hero, had saved Aegis from being liquified and killed under the water hammer that was Leviathan's fist. But that had led to her being fully crystalised, and most of Brockton Bay being lost... it had led to Emma's death and the battle with Leviathan, the death of an Endbringer and the Oort-Spider moving for the first time since it arrived on the planet.

All from a momentary decision made on the spur of the moment, all because she did the opposite of what Sophia had said, the flap of a butterfly.

The world... was objectively better for it, without Leviathan. And yet, some small part of her wished that she had let Leviathan crush Carlos, that she was mourning him and not Emma, that Leviathan still roamed free and that the calamity that was the Oort-Spider had never marched upon Brockton Bay.

But she could only live with what had happened and continue to move into the future.

All these thoughts took just a second to process, Sophia was still waiting on a response.

"... Thanks, Sophia."

A grunt in response.

Taylor reached down and picked up a slice of the reheated pizza, taking in the sheen of grease and oil that had settled on its top and took a bite.

Without the biological drive to eat, without the sense of taste, the pizza was just steadily liquifying gunk in her mouth, a biological slurry being reduced to a less complex form, polluting her mouth. The only reason that she had a mouth, tongue, and teeth was because that was what the base plan of her body was, she didn't even need them to talk... she rather doubted she had a stomach cavity now, it was probably just a mass of solid crystal.

She swallowed the slice, it was hard without saliva, she could feel the grease and fragments of food sticking and clinging all around her mouth. The internal heat of her heart atomised the food, she gained nothing from eating it beyond Sophia's companionship and a mild pang of sadness for what she had lost.

How inefficient and wasteful.

Taylor took a second slice and settled onto the couch beside Sophia, folding her legs up lotus style so there could be no risk of them touching the floor.

They ate in silence, and once they were done, continued to enjoy the peace.

Sophia began scrolling on her phone, Taylor leaned on the armrest and closed her eyes, simulating rest but in truth just wanting to block out her visual senses. She had a lot to dwell upon now.

There was a solitary person she could save, with the proceeds of the deal and analysis of Mush.

Of the people she knew from the support group... objectively, it should be either SkySkyDaydream, Daniel, or BigBlueInsomniac, Gabrielle. Both of them were crystallised all the way up to the neck, immobile and bedbound. At least Joe and Aimee were only crystallised up to the mid-chest and could operate their arms and move in their wheelchairs.

But after the funeral Taylor was not over what had been said.

It had left an open wound that had yet to heal. There was no changing what had been said and what had been done, perhaps it was precisely because Emma was gone that she struggled to let it go?

Despite what had been said, it came about due to her suffering and condition. At the summer camp Gabrielle had been one of the more talkative girls, the sort who liked to keep the air filled with chatter and conversation. Hell, she had helped to drag Aimee out of her shell. But with every member of the group that had been fully crystallised and every new letter written for their funeral, some small part of her died.

Well, it had in all of them, to be honest.

But Gabrielle had taken it especially hard, the same with Daniel, he had been an abrasive boy who would pull girls hair, that sort of asshole. But he had grown so fatalistic with time, just like she used to be.

But they had still said all that to Emma.

But this was a human life she was musing on, not some petty argument between friends or considering whether to invite out for a meal or something equally as petty as that. In just a moment she could grant either of them the ability to walk again, freeing them from the beds they had been laying on for months now, waiting and feeling the ever-creeping ache and sensations of the crystal eating them away.

On the other hand, there were people who were fully crystallised within the Brockton Bay Valley, as well.

She would need to get permission to go in there, or wait for it to slowly recede away before those people could be saved... well, she could just fly in right now but the PRT would probably blow a gasket if she suddenly deviated off her convoy duty to venture into the Valley. Then again, it was not like she could be crystallised more... it was just the nightmarish abominations that lived within the Valley that she had to worry about.

Nothing at all, really!

She was distracting herself from the matter at hand.

Objectively she should grant freedom to Daniel or Gabrielle, but in truth she wanted to give it to Joe or Aimee first.

Should she mention her plans to the PRT, or should she just do it? If they knew about it ahead of time then they would probably come up with a list of people to prioritise, civil figures and such who were barely crystallised at all but had still been partially converted by the material. Perhaps she was being jaded right now, but she could see how it would go.

"Top of the list is the Head of the Education board for Brockton Bay, and then the Mayor's sister, she is on a few boards and the crystal only comes up to her leg but---"

She was putting words in their mouths, admittedly. She should avoid those assumptions, but it was a very human thing to do.

No, she would grant it suddenly, without telling anybody, that way when news spread that she could do it the PRT would ask the right questions about how she could do it again and she would then present them the details of her agreement with the Spider. They probably would not be happy with it all, but their happiness was insignificant, only progress and making a difference was, she had the tools to save thousands of people.

They would not be able to refuse her gaining more data when so many people would be clamouring for Ordinant to help and save them and their relatives, right?

Was it wrong of her to be conspiring against them like this, assuming the worst of them? Things had not always gone to plan, the PRT had made its fair share of mistakes when it came to her, but they were also the one thing standing between the city being utterly dominated and ruined by the villains of the city.

"I want to go out, there's an event being held by a friend of mine."

Getting permission to go out took frustratingly long.

LittleOwl : Hey, just to say I'm gonna swing by the hall, I have something I need to discuss with you both.

(Recalling agreement result: full mobility. Selecting crystallisation host; "Aimee")

Aimee blinked in confusion but also some strange anticipation, and Taylor lifted her upwards, earning a small squeak as Taylor set her on her feet. The smaller girl wobbled a moment, Joe made a sound of surprise as she steadied herself against Taylor, gripping her hands in a vice grip.

"What---"

"You can walk now." It was neither the most eloquent, nor satisfactory explanation, but Taylor still said it as she floated back just a little, still holding her hands and letting Aimee take a small and tentative step. Even if her lower half had been crystallised and there was no muscle to atrophy, her balance would still be off, right? It might take her time to remember how to balance and walk, when was the last time she did so, months? A year?

Well, baby steps... quite literally.

"... I kind of found a way to do this, to let people not be paralysed," she tried to explain as she helped Aimee continue to walk. "It's... a little unreliable how often I can do it... Promise you're next, Joe, sorry, it might take a little bit before I can do it again," she winced. Would he judge her because she had helped Aimee before him?

He nodded.

"Aimee comes first for me," he said, simply even as he watched his companion now standing, and he was smiling. Oh, we're they an item? Or moving towards being one? Well, they did spend so much time together---

Arms crushing around her midsection, Aimee was crying into her shoulder. Had she stumbled in the moment that Taylor had been focused on Joe? Taylor floated awkwardly in place for a moment; Aimee was not letting go...

Oh, right.

She reached up carefully and put a hand on Aimee's head, running it down.

"Hey, it's okay."

The whispers around the room were only getting louder and louder, she glanced over at all the faces staring in their direction, there were suddenly a lot more than there had been when she first arrived, not quite a sea of people but dozens, a hundred or more. Curiosity, wonderment... hope, that was the one thing she really took notice of, the sheer amount of hope and relief that this little display had brought.

Compared to the overwhelming, crushing, and hopeless despair that she had first become aware of the moment she first laid eyes on the Spider, it was such a strange feeling, such a strange expression to see.

The crowd was getting louder even as Aimee refused to let go of her, quite how the girl was comfortable crying into the solid material of her neck was a question she would not ask, rather she would just... exist in this moment until the girl composed herself. All the staring was getting to her, but she put that concern aside.

... She had a lot of explaining to do when she got back, the PRT would hear about this and it would force them into a corner, but that matter could come later.

Chapter Text

15th May, 2011 

The crystal was so very loud today.

She felt the ripples of thought, the distinct, alien imagination and consciousness within her crystallised portions.

It was a feeling she had grown increasingly aware of with time as the condition progressed, the more and more of her that was consumed by the blessing of the Spider, the more and more tuned in she had become. All of them were linked together within the greater consciousness of the crystal, linked to the Oort-Spider on some level, and the further it progressed, the more omnipresent and oppressive it all became.

It was scary at first, she had tried to ignore it, to force it away, listening to music constantly or distracting herself with the comfort of friends and family, anything to block out the incessant stream of information, the dreams of far-off places and memories of the Valley.

The crystal affected everyone differently.

Some of them dreamed of the Valley every night, and walked among its majestic spires to their leisure.

Some were serenaded by the teeming, infinite singing stars.

But as far as she knew... she was the only one of them who could hear the crystal, who heard everything it said and was connected to everyone else. Perhaps, at the moment of absolute crystallisation, she would achieve full unity? Her earthly mind would disappear and become one of the larger whole?

It was not easy to bear the burden of knowledge... at least, not until she had her realisation, her induction and education on these things.

After that a lot of things had become clearer.

With time she had increasingly been able to sense the thoughts and feelings of her fellow crystallisation victims... and she felt their fear, their despair, and their regrets at the same time. None of the others could, or perhaps they had chalked it up to depression, madness and their own declining mental states.

But she understood, she alone was forced to experience that which linked them all... their shared condition, their shared suffering, condensed within her and her alone. She was a pit into which all the darkness experienced by the crystallisation victims poured, the more she crystallised the more and more she felt and experienced it all. She had tried to be there for each of them in their last moments, whether from afar or in person, to hold their hand and tell them that it was okay, that even though they were locked in place forever soon everything would be okay... she was strangely good at consoling them in their last moments.

It had been so... so hard.

She tried to take her life twice when it all became too much, but her body was too strong to die and her mind too weak to overcome that urge.

But meeting the old man had made things clearer, things had fallen into place, as it were.

he crystallisation was both a blessing and a curse. It was a sign, they had been chosen, they were being consumed to become part of a greater whole, right? But to do so they had to face so many trials and tribulations... she in particular, as the one who was connected to the feelings of them all, she could influence the others, that was something she learned later.

Only one of them had rejected the gifts...

Emma Barnes.

At the funeral of James (the poor dear, staying strong for so long...) Priestess had given Gabrielle the nudge she needed to lambast the redhead for her choice, it had not been a kind thing to do, but it was needed. It was something that she had learned swiftly in her role of Priestess; that only faith could provide salvation.

She had been raised as a good Catholic, but fell away and doubted the faith the older she got... until the Oort-Spider came from the stars.

For a while she had been lost in fear and fog, only to later realise the way, with the help of Marsdon and his family.

Still.

The crystal had never been so loud and clear as it was right now.

She sat, staring out the window but not really seeing, because she was focused on events so far away.

Emma Barnes was dead, she had given her life to save another, to save Taylor. It was sweet, really. Emma, who had rejected the gifts, had marched right back into the Valley and come back into the fold. For a minute or so Priestess had been able to hear Emma's thoughts, and she herself had felt the overwhelming joy when the girl began returning to their flock.

Only for Taylor to intervene, to tear Emma away from her moment of ultimate realisation and unity, what a tragic end, to just... die like that. Atomised, obliterated... no part of the architecture of her brain had been crystallised, the neural patterns and thoughts were snatched away right before they could be saved.

Priestess could not be angry, though.

Taylor had ascended. A body of full crystal, all the gifts and blessings of their Lord. It was beautiful, it was an apotheosis the likes of which she could only dream, that the Marsdon Family as a whole strived to attain! Taylor had always been special of course, she was the first among them... oh, Emma had claimed the credit for being the first person to be afflicted with crystallisation when the PRT came calling, sheltering her friend from their unworthy attention and gazes.

For that, Priestess was grateful to the Barnes girl... despite her other sins.

But now they had a true vessel to communicate with, a sign for all the faithful that there was a greater purpose, that the suffering would lead to greater things.

For the past year Priestess had struggled to fulfil the role of the Oort-Spider's voice, the magnitude of its will and communications were more than she could manage to parse and understand easily.

But her efforts to fulfil her role had not been fruitless, the raid on the Crystal Valley had yielded so many valuable relics; crystal plants and even a few smaller creatures... and of course, it had released the Spider's Will upon the world, even if young Alexander Marsdon had had to give his life to become one with it.

The manifestation of their Lord's desires, which had been termed the 'Oort-Fractal' by the PRT. Honestly, what an awful name!

But to err was human, to forgive was divine.

They would see, with time...

And not just that.

There were so many new minds and voices. 

A new Crystal Valley, one that had crystallised so many people, the high and the low, the good and the bad... all of them trapped in place, scared, screaming into the void, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the path that had been opened to them. Every moment Priestess could hear more and more of them, it was an ocean of voices and fear that was all feeding back to her every moment.

Poor, lost souls, not realising what they had been given, but that was alright... fear was the first obstacle for any person to overcome, she herself had been consumed by it when she first began to crystallise, and now she was perfectly content.

She could hear them, she could speak with them... and most of all, she could guide them.

And of course, Taylor was fighting so magnificently. It was awe inspiring to see her capabilities now that she had shed her attachments to this sinful and utterly Human earth. Taylor did not even need to make contact with it anymore, the ground would never need to mar her soles again, she had been granted perfection itself.

Priestess watched through the crystal surrounding Taylor and Leviathan, she saw every determined blow, she watched as Taylor was broken over and over again.

To fight against Leviathan, against the herald of another family?

It was unheard of.

And of course...

In the end, she defeated Leviathan.

No, even better than that, Taylor brought the unworthy serpent of the waters to the Spider...

She checked her bible, flicking through pages so swiftly to Isaiah 27:

In that day the LORD with His severe sword, great and strong,

Will punish Leviathan the fleeing serpent,

Leviathan that twisted serpent;

And He will slay the reptile that is in the sea.

It was a symbol; it was a sign that their long wait was over!

And, and!

Of course, how could she forget the prophecy from Psalms 74:

It was you who crushed the heads of Leviathan

and gave it as food to the creatures of the desert.

And was not this new Valley such? Had not the Spider's Garden grown, had not the Spider fed its knowledge of the Endbringer as food to Taylor!?

It was all falling into place.

For the longest time the Crowley's had called the writings of the good book about Leviathan's death to be false, created to dissuade the faithful.

But it was clear now.

Leviathan and his followers were unworthy, they needed to be purged if they would not come into the fold. There could not be disharmony between families, could there?

And Taylor herself... how beautiful, how stunning, a testament to the power of their Lord! Calling upon the gifts that she had witnessed upon its behalf and making use of them, taking up the armaments of the enemy to deliver its wrath! Taylor, so strong willed that rather than achieve final unity with the Spider, she had chosen another path, to serve, like a Buddhist Bodhisattva delaying their own enlightenment to guide and save mortals.

To willingly put herself into the Spider's service, as she had. After fighting for so long it brought a certain thrill to know that Taylor would be taking her duties so very seriously as the terminal of its will, as its Herald.

The weight would no longer be placed upon Priestesses shoulders alone to guide them, there was salvation. She wouldn't have to suffer in silence alone and be weighed down upon anymore, they wouldn't look to her, a teenager increasingly unable to move, for guidance. Oh god it had been so much and she had been so scared and she didn't want it but it was a role she had to fulfil---

She was so happy that she began to cry uncontrollable tears of relief and joy.

"Are you alright?" asked one of her guards, a 'family friend' who had only been so since she and her parents had been forced to see the truth.

"... We need to go to Brockton Bay," she declared unilaterally, and with far greater confidence than any of her previous commands and revelations to the family.

"A sign?"

"A certainty. I shall explain on the way, but the road to Paradise is opening for us."

"I'll let the others know, Priestess."

24th May, 2011

LittleOwl  : Hey, just to say I'm gonna swing by the hall, I have something I need to discuss with you both.

When Taylor sent her a message, Priestess had not quite known what to make of it.

Something to discuss with her and Joe in particular? What could it be?

Taylor's thought, desires had long been difficult for her to understand; it was the proximity to their Lord. Even if she was the mouthpiece of the Spider to its mortal believers the vastness of its desires and mind was too great for one so frail and unworthy as her, and even if Taylor had been born mortal... the special connection that she shared with the Spider clouded her, made her difficult to understand.

Especially since she ascended to become the Herald of the Spider, since she became so unutterably perfect in her body of crystal.

But she would be here soon... perhaps it was related to their conversation the other day? She had made a suggestion over their little café meeting, one backed up with her own influence over the crystal that perhaps Taylor should be a bit more open to their Lord's will... like for like. Oh, she put it tactfully of course. Taylor was still struggling to accept and take on her duties, and whilst it was frustrating, Priestess could understand.

Taylor had been given such a vast duty, and she was facing it head one... but moments of doubt were natural, it took somebody like Priestess to give those gentle nudges until she could perfectly blossom into the Herald that would usher in their destiny.

The small convention hall was filling up well, so many frightened people who did not yet understand the nature of the gift that they had been given, the blessings of the crystal that would allow them to be saved, to become part of the greater whole. Oh, it would not be easy to guide them down the correct path, Uncle Marsdon had said that it would take a delicate tact, but with her ability to hear and communicate with the crystal, Priestess was certain that they could make a difference.

Already their enemies were arriving in the city, the unworthy followers of the deceased serpent of the waters, causing trouble and conflict.

They would have to be brought to heel, either made to see the truth and the superiority of the Marsdon faith, broken by the swift and terrible sword of their Lord.

But for now, the Crowley's were unimportant, what mattered was the teeming mass of people who were arriving. Very few showed obvious signs of the crystallisation, they did not wear it proudly as she did, in her skirt and socks to let the glittering crystal show.

But she could sense it, the very beginnings of the crystal's consciousness within each of them. Little thoughts, little bits of emotion here and there... she would encourage it, would use her own influence to make them feel comfortable and safe, glad for her guidance. And with that they would be receptive to the words of their Lord, would come to see---

A bright star approached, coming in through the front doors like any other person even as it floated above the ground, head and shoulders above any other.

Ah...

How... beautiful.

Her companion had yet to notice the presence of their bright star, but Priestess watched as Taylor floated up to them, in the guise of Ordinant. Such unworthy garments, she should be in robes, her face should be visible for all the world to see...

What came next was greetings, were the humble and genuine inquiries about how things were going, the Herald made a show of being bashful, she offered to give a talk of some variety. All those gathered here would be so very blessed to hear words from the Herald herself, even if they would not realise the significance of them for a long time to come, until their own full induction into the Marsdon family.

But Taylor had come to see them with a purpose.

Priestess kept her hands in her lap and waited patiently for it; there was no need to rush, she could wait forever to hear a single command or benediction from their dear Herald. Honestly, with her like this, she could fully understand why Emma---

"Here---"

Taylor took her hands, and Priestess could not disguise her surprise as the Herald lifted her from her seat, her entire body felt... strange, the stiffness, the immobile crystal of her legs moved, her knees folded and her foot touched the floor of the stage in a half step, the first she had taken in months.

It was Mark 5:12, it was a paralytic being told to walk, it was a miracle.

She took a step with Taylor's help, this unworthy creature that called itself Priestess walked as awkwardly as a toddler under the supervision of a parent... and as all the of soon to be faithful saw this miracle, as Taylor promised that Joe would be the next to receive it, Priestess could not help the tears of joy and relief that burst through, throwing her unworthy self into Taylor's arms.

She could walk, she was living proof that there was salvation now--- she could walk! ---and an example for others to follow ---oh god it had been so long did this mean that she would not need to be atomised if she was fully crystallised!?---

Priestess would go, she would spread the word, the Priestess, no, Aimee would bring Taylor's will to all those who suffered, she would help Taylor to save all of them from the crystal, by any means necessary.

Chapter Text

Taylor had rather expected to be jumped upon the moment she returned to base, to be whisked away for a meeting with the higher ups and interrogated for what she had done to help Aimee. 

She knew for sure that somebody would have uploaded the interaction or discussed it on PHO or some similar website, it was only a matter of time until that call came. And yet when she did return she had little trouble making it down to the Ward's quarters, the various troopers greeted her, a few of them she knew by name of course and she always made efforts to say hi to each. 

There was no irate Glen Chambers to drag her away to discuss future PR strategy now that she had displayed this new ability, Coleson did not stride up with that somewhat resigned but confident manner, requesting in his ever-polite way that she come with him. No, she barely met anybody of note until she was back in the central space, the smell of the pizza from earlier still hung in the air from earlier like an oily smog. 

Who else was in here? Stalker might be asleep or perhaps she had gone home... Wherever home currently was, the bedrooms provided for the others were just small rooms with a bed, the temporary PRT building was like that, everything was in odd places and jury rigged together. 

Nobody else seemed to be in---

A door opened.

Gallant. 

"Hey---" she was halfway through raising her arm by the time he had taken his first power stride towards her. 

"Taylor, I want to talk to you," he said, there was an urgency in his voice that she had not heard before. Had something happened? Were they heading out again? It was not like she was tired or overstimulated, if such a thing could even happen but still, she would have preferred just a moment to mentally prepare herself.

"Sure." It was not like she had anything else to do. 

She was genuinely a bit surprised when he took her by the elbow and began directing her away back to the room he had emerged from. Of course, being weightless there was a moment in which he had clearly not appreciated the physics of tugging her around, and she swung uncontrollably to the side before she managed to regain control of her momentum. Even if it would not hurt, she did not really want to be slammed into the door frame. 

Gallant's quarters were spartan, at best. A bed and a chest of drawers and that was it, not even a window, the walls looked thin and cheap, hastily erected as a partition to split one large room into multiple as needed. 

He released her arm once he was part way in, and kicked the door closed. The cheap piece of wood snapped shut with something of a bang, and then it was just the two of them. Taylor floated back and put one leg over the other, attempting to sit casually in the air, people liked casual right? After a moment, Gallant took a seat on the bed, leaning forward with elbows on his knees. There were bags under his eyes.

"... What's wrong, Gallant?" she asked, cutting to the chase, and by the looks of it, he was not planning to prevaricate much either. 

"I heard about what you did for the girl at the convention hall."

"... That's fast," when did Gallant become some manner of clued in computer whizz who could find these things out so quickly? She knew that his armour gave the impression that he was some manner of Tinker but that was just to confuse people who did not know the truth. Deception is the secret to all war or whatever Sun Tzu said. 

"My mother was there," he said. Ah, of course his mother got caught up in the crystal, that was why he had been so blunt when he came to visit her whilst she was still recovering, when he had given his blunt question about whether she had wanted all of this to happen. "You helped somebody paralysed to walk, right? Somebody crystallised a lot?"

"Yeah. An old friend of sorts, she was infected at the same time I was."

He nodded, and Taylor could see the gears in his brain turning.

Oh wait, was this about---

"How did you do it?"

The million-dollar question. She had been thinking about how to phrase her response to this, at some point, sooner rather than later the rest of the PRT would be asking.

"... When a power is used in front of me there is a good chance that I can learn to replicate it, and I managed to barter with the Spider for information, it likes to know how powers work so... yeah. Like for like, I used the information from Mush's power to get it to free my friend." She put it simply. The shortest explanation was usually the best, the most digestible. No need to discuss the specifics unless it was asked for.

He stared at her.

Did he know that she was hiding something from him? He had to, right? He was an empath... unless her own emotions were hidden from him? Reading a person of flesh and blood would be very different to reading somebody like her with such aberrant biology. Crystology? What term did she even use...

"... You're bartering information with the Spider just to help normal people?"

If she still had them, then the hairs on the back of her neck would raise.

"They are not just... yes. Just normal people living in terror, Gallant," she replied, and despite herself there was a heat in her voice that she had not fully expected to be there. If his simple comment got her worked up, then what could she do when she tried to explain all this to the PRT later? It was not a good indicator, perhaps she could shut off her emotions for that, but even if she did have that capacity, she needed her emotions or she would be no better than---

"It's not that, sorry, I'm not always the best at putting things across... kind of ironic given my power..." Gallant said, there was a grim note to his voice. "Listen, my mother's crystallised up to the knees as I told you, and she’s noticed it climbing rapidly."

Taylor nodded. 

"I've seen what it does to people’s heads Taylor, you've never done them because they kept you busy but sometimes the Wards do hospital visits, see sick kids and such, you know? Well, I've seen people who were fully crystallised, it was ages ago but..." he looked away, his Adam's apple bobbed suddenly, the young man's face had blanched of colour, it was like watching a war veteran suddenly being reminded of something terrible... okay maybe not that far, but the comparison came to mind. 

Gallant's fingers interlaced, the fingertips were red and white as he clenched them against the back of the opposite hand. His chin rested on these interlinked hands.

His look said a thousand words all in a moment. It was a plea, a demand, a desperate beg even as he radiated an almost palpable tension. She was left floating there, wondering just what to say. There had been some others at the convention hall who had asked how she did it, whether she could do the same for their relatives... she had said that she 'needed more time before she could do it again', a way to pacify the crowd but also apply more pressure on the PRT for this inevitable meeting. 

"You want me to help her."

"Yes."

"... There are people who are more crystallised than her, and have been suffering a lot longer."

A convulsive twitch, one that looked as if he had wanted to snap at her and restrained it. 

"I know."

"I cannot put your mother ahead of people who cannot walk, or who cannot move, Dean," she said, trying to lower her voice to be softer.

"... I know."

His hands clenched, it looked physically painful. Dean was a realist enough to know that there was no stopping it, short of the same amputation procedure that Emma had gone through.

"... What about prosthetics?"

"Already looked into it, there's already a wait list a mile long, even normal ones... We could have it done at Boston, of course but... I mean it's not like my family is struggling but with everything that has happened to the Bay---" the Stansfields may be relatively rich but that source of income had stopped now, unless it was all in stocks and shares? It was not like she knew the economic situation of Dean's family, but the way he was talking about things rather implied that he was having to play it carefully. "---We've had a quote of two-hundred and fifty-thousand... before the actual prosthetics themselves, which could by anywhere between ten and seventy thousand, depending on how advanced they are..."

Fucking hell. 

Do you buy a house somewhere, or do you chop off your mother's legs and put crude pieces of metal on them?

Taylor rather doubted that even with a lifetime, Prosthetist would be able to make enough limbs for all the crystallisation victims, and especially not when the degree of crystallisation was growing more and more critical each day. Maybe Dragon could manufacture lower quality versions and mass distribute them, but even then, there was the amputation process, and unless it was offered for free there was no way that most folks would be able to afford it when they had lost their source of income, homes, and everything they owned to the crystal...

A silence had fallen between them, one that Gallant broke suddenly, as if unwilling to allow it to settle.

"But what if I use my power on you? My power in exchange for you doing the same for my mom... that way when the crystal reaches the lower spine she won't be paralysed," there was no question of 'if' there, he knew that it would happen. The grim certainty of the situation, the shock of what had happened solidifying into resolution.

Gallant's blaster power? She doubted that she would be able to observe his power enough for the empathy, but she could probably analyse his emotional blasts...

"You sure?"

"Yes." 

Not even a moment's pause there, it was... admirable, the love and concern that Dean had for his mother. 

If he was willing to make that offer, to willingly let her copy and make use of his power, then who was she to say no? He was doing it for his mother, and over the years Taylor had had more than enough time to imagine all the things she could and would have done to save her mother that fateful day... letting somebody copy a theoretical power of hers would be nothing to just have Annette Hebert back in her life.

She leaned back in mid-air and stared at the ceiling. 

"... There's something I need to ask of you as well, it might not even be needed, but I might need to borrow your help in the near future, it's just something small... but yes, I can help your mom, Dean."

For a minute or so they discussed more of the specifics, and reached a resolution.

Dean, being raised properly and fitting for his persona, shook her hand upon their deal reaching its resolution. 

There was little else to be said between the two of them at the moment, and with a goodbye she left him to his thoughts. On the way out and back into the central area of the Wards space, such as it now was, she removed her phone from her pocket, idly checking it. Various notifications and alerts were there, in just the short time since last she checked a few had come in and rapidly she scanned them.

Dad : They're offering me a short term job here, mostly just to keep my close I think but I'll be able to see you at work

Dad : Hope you kept safe on your patrol earlier

Dad : Okay well at least you kept safe, well done on what you did Taylor

Dad : even if that shotgun gave me a heart attack don't you do that again Taylor I don't care how tough you are

Dad : We are going to be having words young lady about nto taking risks

Dad : *not

Dad : Love you, make sure to get some rest

She winced automatically in that very human way at the middle few messages, then paused.

Despite herself, she smiled and saved a screenshot of the message selection from her father, adding them to a steadily growing folder. 

Moments that made her happy, that made her thankful and acted as a reminder of what she was fighting to keep hold of.

Still, next message...

Joe : [Sent a video]

Joe : Gonna be awhile before she gets used to walking again XD 

The video was of some backstage room, presumably in the convention hall, and showed Aimee tottering about. A man, presumably her uncle, was guiding her, a big, muscular sort who looked like he could bench press a baby killer whale with ease. There was not much of a familial resemblance between them, but that may just be the somewhat weak light and the grainy nature of the footage messing with his face. 

But the video was quite cute, watching the small baby steps and delight on Aimee's face. She looked happy, properly happy even when she tripped and would have fallen without the steadying hands gripping her elbows.

There was laughter and nervous giggles as she was coaxed back up and gave it another go. 

But also...

The third series of messages, and the one that she had been dreading. If she still had a biological heart, it would have metaphorically jumped into her throat the moment she saw the name of the sender.

Alan Barnes : Hi Taylor, I am sorry for messaging you out of the blue but I got your letter. I've written this message out seven times now and I just am going to send this one because I can't write it again. Whilst it is not easy for me to write this, I am sure you will appreciate just what myself and Zoe are going through right now. Emma just disappeared during the evacuation from the shelters and I hoped against hope and now I know what happened to her and we're still trying to process it all but I know that she would have wanted you safe

Alan Barnes : Zoe wanted to send something but she cannot type long enough before she has to stop but she is thinking about you and said she loves you.

Alan Barnes : We want to see you soon if possible

Alan Barnes : And your dad

Alan Barnes : Im sorry my message are all over the place my head isn't in the right place right now.

Was this thankfulness she was feeling?

Was it the release of tension that had been simmering away, or was it a strange wave of mental exhaustion now that some small mental process had been validated?

Was it selfish that she was glad that he wasn't angry at her? Or was she guilty for the very same reason?

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard as she floated in the centre of the room for an age, staring unceasingly and reading and rereading the combination of letters that made up a man’s thoughts, translated to the best of his ability. 

A new message came in.

Command : @Ordinant [Priority] please report to meeting room number four, second floor

A direction, a directive. 

Automatically, she began moving.

Her response to the Barnes’ could wait, even if just a little while. She was a coward perhaps, for wanting just a little more time to think about what she wanted to say. 

She had the power to destroy an entire city, she had said goodbye to dozens of people in the last two years and yet finding the right words was inconceivably difficult.

Chapter Text

Meeting room four was one of the larger such spaces that Taylor had the displeasure to enjoy with the PRT. 

It was about as bare and barren as all the others of course, the only real decoration was a solitary money tree that had been perched precariously on the windowsill, and a number of official PRT marked pieces of stationary on the desk. Bland, impersonal and functional... she would have attributed it to the fact that the place was temporary and thrown together in a hurry, but the old PRT Headquarters had been much the same.

With the capacity of humans to create beautiful pieces of art that could almost match the natural beauties of the cosmos… why did they so love their bland, utilitarian office spaces?

Behind the desk was Deputy Director Renick, a man she had only had limited interactions with in the past. 

She was pretty sure he was a former PRT trooper, although it was a bit of a lateral move from trooper to pencil pusher, but she could respect somebody who had actually put themselves out at risk for the sake of the public then somebody who only knew how to sign paperwork. 

Unless she had heard wrong? It did not really matter in the end, did it?

… Was he one of the ones who made the Endbringer sirens go off just at the moment of the Ward's victory against the Empire, when they worked together to bring down Rune and Purity? 

It was only an idle thought; she had more than enough axes to grind but compared to the other things in her life that she was prioritising, it was a small one.

Armsmaster was also present, with arms crossed over his chest and radiating an aura she struggled to read… impatient? 

Or perhaps he was 'already done' as it were with this conversation, here purely out of duty? From what she had heard the man had been running himself pretty hard in the last few days, even if it was a 'credit to his dedication and competency' and all those good sounding words. 

But the truth was written in his posture, the man was tired.

As usual, she ignored the offered chair. 

Honestly, she could only assume it was a power play at this point, the only option she could take was sitting cross-legged on such a thing, and even if she did not have muscles anymore, it would still be uncomfortable. So she levitated away the chair and moved it across the room without even looking at it, and instead sat in the air, feet hanging down. It raised her sitting position a little more than average, able to actually look the man in the eye.

"Ordinant, apologies for calling you so unexpectedly, but it seems that the PRT has something to discuss with you."

To his credit, Renick had a gentler way of putting it then Piggot. 

"Me granting a friend the ability to walk."

She did not even phrase it as a question, just as a blunt statement of fact.

"... Yes." There was a resignation there, had Renick been hoping for a softer opening to the topic? "The Director and a lot of people higher up in the chain of command are wondering why you have not mentioned this ability before? We have a lot of people in the city suffering right now."

"I only learned about it recently, and I am afraid that it has a number of caveats, sir." she explained.

A pause.

"We'll come back to that in a minute, for now let’s focus on the first part... okay, why did you not let the PRT know about this, Ordinant? If you had then we could have prioritised certain victims whose condition is more desperate than others, Ordinant."

Of course.

"The person I helped in an old friend of mine, she's had the crystallisation since the Oort-Spider landed, sir, her and the others from the summer camp deserve it the most."

Renick nodded, at least, he did for the beginning, and then he stopped himself, perhaps it was just part of that natural instinct to nod along to a statement. He heard her out, at least, and put his chin on his hands as he did so. His eyes were sharp enough, as if trying to take in every detail of her face. When she was done, he considered for a moment, before he replied. 

"And when you returned, you did not make the PRT aware?"

"I returned to Ward quarters to change sir, with the intention of discussing it with you all, but got into conversation with Gallant, he has been concerned for me ever since I recovered," she said. 

And it was not really a lie, was it? 

A long stare, looking for hints of a lie in her face, and Renick momentarily glanced at Armsmaster for something. Before she had time to focus on the leader of the ENE Protectorate, whatever was being communicated was complete, and Renick focused back on her. 

"Ordinant, there are some people who were fully crystallised, and a number of rather important people were infected and their condition is directly compromising their ability to help manage the city,” he began. “Whilst I condone wanting to help a friend, I think in future it would be beneficial to prioritise others—”

She tried not to be cynical; she really did. 

Instead, she took a moment to herself, forcing her thought patterns to slow. No need to shout, no need to rush into this. Her conversation with Gallant just previously had highlighted that she had less control over herself than she liked, still.

It was an unpleasant vindication of her previous thought processes, the same ones that led to her acting directly rather than approaching the PRT first.

Exactly a second of silence later, she responded.

"The person I helped is spearheading efforts to provide sufferers with greater understanding of the condition, sir, and with all due respect... she has been living with the condition far longer and worse. The people on the council will have their turn so long as the Spider is satisfied."

She left that statement there, like a hook with a worm on it, just waiting for the inevitable bite.

Through an earpiece, Renick was getting commands and instructions, in the silence that followed her statement it was almost a little awkward just how loud the words in his ear were. 

She could catch snippets and fragments of it all. 

How unpleasant, to be the middleman between a person and a half dozen others, trying to manage a situation, she almost felt a little bad for him. But now was no time for such feelings, not when there was a concrete objective, and one that stood above one man's comfort.

"... What do you mean, so long as the Spider is satisfied?"

"The Spider wants to observe powers, sir. It is why it is here. It is fascinated by them but the current rate is not enough. So it was decided to use an incentive program, I think it rather copied the human approach to things from my thoughts, I am sorry sir."

She was lying through her teeth, and locked down her face, her expressions, everything.

Calm.

A face like a statue.

Rather notably, Renick glanced at Armsmaster again. The man gave an odd tilt of the head. Some manner of previously agreed upon communication? Why was Armsmaster even here, there had to be some reason for it, right?

"And this incentive program that the Oort-Spider has decided upon?"

"One for one, sir. Each power I observe and learn to replicate, the Spider will grant full mobility to a person suffering from crystallisation."

No need for further description or clarification, allow that piece of information to sink in. She could wait, she could wait much longer than they could. 

The voices in Renick’s ear were going crazy, despite what was clearly some effort to appear unaffected and in control of himself, there was a faint wince. 

"Excuse me, Ordinant, a call just came in."

"Of course, sir, take as long as you need."

The conversation was going quicker than she had imagined, she had expected a full interrogation but it was all being clearly managed behind the scenes... 

As Renick listened in to what was being said, Taylor idly called down the marbles orbiting her head and had them spin above her hand, watching them. Watching the little glass globes orbit one another brought her a moment to think and calm herself further.

Her heart had flared just a little there, even if her face was nothing but impassive crystal, her heart could still lie, could give things away. 

The voices settled on the next important question to ask her;

"... Ordinant, are you trying to say that the Spider is interested in bartering for more knowledge of powers?"

"In effect, yes. One power, one person able to move."

"Not healed, as in, not having the crystal removed?"

"Impossible sir, the crystal is a form of life that cannot coexist; it must either spread or be destroyed, there is no alternative... as we have seen, it was rather jealous when they tried to take my arm, after all."

Why did Armsmaster’s lips press into a thin line as if restraining an unpleasant thought?

Oh, of course… he was there for the aftermath of that, he cut the surgeon's arm off, right?

"So, the best that can be achieved is mobility..." for the first time, Renick leaned back in his seat, there was the faint click of some joint or vertebrae as he did so, was he tense? Or perhaps he had just sat for too long today. "Well, that is certainly better than having to shatter and atomise people once they are fully infected."

Ah, the man had read up on how crystallisation worked and the protocols involved, then.

Well, it was probably a much more relevant piece of knowledge now, with the city how it was.

"Yes, sir. I've spent time with people approaching full crystallisation, it's utter hell..." she said. If Renick had read up on it, then he probably knew the stages in a more academic sense. 

But not the grim reality. 

… She had been very neutral and forthcoming so far. But she pivoted, it was a spur of the moment thing.

“I know those important people are suffering sir, and they might not be able to work as well, but you really cannot understand what it is like unless you’ve had it for a long time. Me and the others that were at the summer camp, we all tried to be there for one another, we used to try and make things better by comparing and discussing what it was like, to take the fear out of it all, but it did not really work... I think we just got very good at not thinking about it until the time came... you know?”

She let that question hang there for a moment. Renick made to speak—

“But you can never escape it, it aches and hurts and you always know that it is there, slowly creeping up, you know it is going up your body but you don't really notice how much, until one day you look down and realise it has moved up by an inch, or even more. And then you realise that there’s no getting out of it and you have a mental breakdown---" 

Oh god... how many had she had, before she became a Ward? 

Hell, even during her time as a hero, how many sleepless nights in panic and despair, calling Emma to rant, rave and cry together, or even going to visit her to sit together in misery?

"---and you get better for a bit, you tell yourself it is what it is and forget for a little while... and it happens again, over and over and over until you don't feel a thing, you give up and just accept it, because it’s hard to keep fighting..."

Her voice had fallen into a monotone, but she kept talking, she could not really help herself as she stared at Renick. She did not blink, she could, but she wanted him to know, wanted the weight of her words to sink in. 

It was an emotional appeal, she knew, which meant little in the face of cold hard bureaucracy.

"... A few of us even committed suicide rather than get fully converted, I think one kid threw himself out a window... been awhile since I thought about him, they probably needed a dustpan and brush to clean him up," she said it utterly humourlessly, because it was not funny at all. "And if I can stop that, Deputy Director, then I damn well will, even if it means trading powers for people’s freedom, and there’s people who have been going through that for almost two years!" her heart flared. "These people have only had it for a week, but I'll damn well prioritise the people like me who have been through it as long as me!"

She hadn't wanted to get emotional. 

She really hadn't. 

But despite everything, she was still human... even if she should probably be crying right now. As it was, all she could do was stare into Renick’s eyes, unblinkingly even as he winced away and shielded his vision from the illumination she created.

"Ordi---"

"Deputy Director."

It was Armsmaster speaking, for the first time in this conversation, and he cut Renick straight off.

"A moment."

She was thankful to Armsmaster, as the man leaned down to speak something into his ear; she could hear what it was. Armsmaster was bringing up a field report, something unrelated to the conversation right now but giving her a moment to compose herself again.

As it was, even if Renick was being distracted, the voices feeding through into his ear were not. 

"Tell her that that it's inappropriate as a Ward for her to decide who is prioritised," A voice in Renick’s ear, and after a moment he made to repeat the line---

"I don't care if it's inappropriate," she said, before he could do so.

A pause, confusion on their part.

"You are all getting louder and louder as you try to speak over one another," she added, as if to explain. "And I have exceptionally good hearing. I've been trying not to snoop, but all the raised voices make it difficult not to."

"But if the Spider would be willing to help certain people first---"

"It does not care."

She said it as bluntly as possible, interrupting him.

"The Oort-Spider does not care who gets mobility first, it sees humans little better than we would see a solitary cell inside of a slime mold. It just gave me the capacity to help another, to demonstrate that it could do this... and so that I could put this offer on the table today. I chose who it was that got helped, and even then, it could just free those people from my subconscious biases instead of my choice, if it desired."

She deliberately made the sound of a sigh, pushing air out of her lungs to make it seem as if she was conceding something. 

"Listen, those people are far less crystallised than others, just because they are superficially more important is insignificant compared to the degree and length of suffering of others. They can wait, others cannot. If you want to get those priority people healed sooner rather than later, then you shall have to increase the rate that I can observe powers. Let me begin breaking Gray Boy loops again, or deploy me against whatever gangs are left in the city. The loops were reliable, and they freed people from hell. Free one person from a loop and they trigger, free a person from Crystallisation---"

At this point she felt like she was hammering on the point, but she wasn't going to compromise. 

She was probably being overly set on a course of action, but she did not care.

"---If you are worried about Youth Guard, then I can break the loops as charity work or something, there has to be some way to bend those rules, I don't even sleep, I would rather put that time to use doing something to help than just floating about on PHO."

There, she said it. 

Utilise her better. 

Improve the state of the world!

She rather felt as if she was browbeating Renick and those listening in.

"... Ordinant's previous strong will towards helping people has been an issue in the past, she can be incredibly stubborn when it comes to breaking loops."

It sounded like Piggot's voice, through the headphone, although she sounded. Well, not bemused, perhaps she was enjoying inflicting Taylor's stubbornness on others?

Ah, recalling her 'unreasonable' demands of before, how amusing. It almost made her want to smile, but she didn't.

"How do we know that this is not just a ploy on the Spider's part, a trick?" a new voice spoke into the Deputy Director's ear. 

"The Spider can break out of the Quarantine Site whenever it wants.”

Again, blunt delivery to hammer home a fact.

“It just prefers for me to feed it that information instead, and if I fail to do so, I lose my free will and it remotely pilots me to do so, and then you lose any ability to enter a dialogue with it, because it does not care enough to talk beyond this attempt now."

Well, enter a dialogue with her, she was not even sure if the Spider was listening---

N͕ͩ̉̚e̙̬ͩa̬̟͕͛ͭr̮̙͗ͦ̆ ̜̮̖ͨ̂ḭ̖̐n͉͔̫͂ṡ͎̾i͈ͬͣg̯͎ͪn̝̜̽̐ͯf̝͍͕̈ͩ̚í̭͚̜̉cͩ̽ͅa̱̦ͯ͂n̤ͤ̌̆t̩͇͌̆

(Near insignificant)

Huh, that was an improvement on the usual. 

Evidently the topic of new powers and being granted more deserved an iota of attention. 

"Armsmaster, please confirm." 

A request from the earpiece, and the nebulous number of directors behind it... they were trying to keep their voices quieter and more controlled to stop her hearing, but... well, she did not have to make it obvious when she used that enhanced hearing from that one bat-changer Cape. 

Renick glanced to Armsmaster again.

"The lie detector barely works on her, too few micro-expressions to have reliable results," Armsmaster said aloud, not quite sounding as if it was a final nail in the coffin of a matter but not far off. 

"What about analysing the way her chest lights up? It follows her emotions, right?"

"... Director, my detector is designed to work with human faces, not miniature stars," Armsmaster really was running on fumes, the tone was skirting the borderline of appropriateness.

As it was, that statement rather put a damper on that line of conversation... although it was an interesting revelation, to know that Armsmaster had such a device. It would certainly explain quite a few things she had seen over the years in videos, the Parahuman often sounded very sure of his assessments of people in videos of arrests.

Still. 

For a minute there was something of a lull in the conversation, behind the scenes they were still yammering away. 

How was the conversation going? She could not quite be sure, there was only one logical course of action presented, right? Give her more powers to analyse, let her break loops, let her put her time to use. She did not need to sleep, she could break loops when she was not patrolling or escorting convoys, count it as some form of charity work, make the PRT look better!

"---The only person who can get a solid read on her emotions is Gallant."

"Have him called up, we might as well try and get some sort of confirmation on what she is saying."

They were still hung up on her telling the truth about the Spider, rather than focusing on the objective good that she could do! When would they accept that there was nothing they could do about the Spider, that it was meaningless to try! 

The Oort-Spider was part of this world they called Bet, attempts to stop such a state of beings was meaningless, this issue that had been just a small part of the conversation, this insignificant tangent!

Through sheer force of will she stopped her heart from blinding Renick and Armsmaster again.

They did not have to wait overly long for Gallant, but in that sort time Renick gave up on acting as an intermediary, and with some careful finagling had gotten the earpiece to act as something of a speaker... the voices were a bit tinny and kept peaking, but stop gap measures were just that. 

Gallant stepped in, Taylor glanced over her shoulder back at him.

He was in his full outfit now, she had not had the opportunity to ask earlier why he was in... presumably for a patrol, like normal, but Dean had been so quick to drag her into his room (and didn't that statement sound wrong?) that she had not been able to ask. Of course, she didn't bother with her own mask, everyone here knew who she was, and she looked to where she knew where his eyes were. 

Dean gave no indication that he met her eyes, instead he stepped in.

"Sir?"

He posed it as a question. 

"Sorry to call you up so suddenly, Gallant, but myself and the other directors on call were hoping that you would be able to assist in making sure that Ordinant here is telling the truth on a number of... rather delicate topics."

"I see."

Damn, just two words and somehow coming from Dean they packed a punch. 

"Well, I would be glad to help, sir."

"Thank you... now, Ordinant, would you please reconfirm what you told us before?"

"You will need to be more specific, sir." She really tried not to sound petulant.

"On the topic of containing the Spider."

Okay then.

"The Spider can break out of the Quarantine Site whenever it wants, as it has shown. It is simply lazy and prefers for me to feed it that information instead, and if I fail to do so, I lose my free will and it remote pilots me to do so, and then you lose any ability to enter a dialogue with it, like you are now." She repeated it back word for word, in the exact same tone of voice as before.

A momentary pause.

"Gallant, would you please confirm that Ordinant is telling the truth?"

She could feel his gaze upon her back for a moment.

"Her emotions indicate that she fully believes what she is saying, yes."

"And the greater aura?" a voice through the earpiece, one that Taylor did not recognise. A faceless individual in a group call.

Greater aura? Taylor frowned. Oh, was there another aspect to Gallant's power that she had failed to appreciate? Well, she was working off incomplete information, then. But she had never presumed to interrogate her fellow Ward's about the exact nature of their powers, that would be a step too far, right?

"Unreadable."

Gallant's response was as blunt as anything Taylor had delivered.

"What do you mean?"

"... Sir, that thing is too far from humanity for me to understand it, whatever it is feeling is coming through Ordinant's own understanding, and beyond my ability to understand. Just looking at it now is giving me a headache."

"Then try harder!" a voice from the speaker, the same masculine voice from before.

She could feel Gallant's eyebrow raising at this, even with the barrier of his mask.

Armsmaster spoke up, not even bothering to turn his head towards Renick or the earpiece on the table.

"Director Heathrow would do well to remember that he is speaking to a Ward right now, and should reconsider endangering Gallants health, especially to confirm things we already know. I have to ask, as Ordinant’s superior exactly what use this line of inquiry serves," Armsmaster said, interrupting. "We already know that the Spider cannot be contained currently, extensive conversation with Ordinant has indicated that it could assume direct control at any moment. You already have access to the records, Director."

Taylor really had to wonder whether Armsmaster would be getting in trouble with that one, but then again, it was his job to look out for the health of Wards, right? 

Then again... if Brockton Bay may be abandoned in the near future... where would he be reassigned if that happened?

No, focus on the matter at hand.

"Ordinant, please would you describe the Spider's intentions with this exchange you are proposing?"

"A one for one exchange of information and exposure to powers on my part in return for full mobility being granted to crystallisation sufferers, at my discretion. It wants to observe powers, it uses me to do it."

Again, Gallant confirmed the truth.

"And if its demands are not met?"

A simple question, not one covering a topic already discussed.

She paused a moment. 

"... Then it shall get that information on its own, either by breaking containment or assuming direct control," she lied. She had no confirmation that the Spider would immediately take action, she put this course of action before it. It might just as happily wait or be fine with her slower, more passive observation after all, but threatening the people before her with what might happen, forcing their hand with the possibility would get the results she needed, right?

She was in too deep now to back off. 

She kept her posture the same, her face rigid, she locked down her entire existence as she lied and counted upon the one person who could help her in this moment---

"She's telling the truth, sir."

Gallant delivered the statement with an utter certainty, barely giving a moment's pause.

The silence that followed was so total that Taylor swore that she could hear the heartbeats of the trio of men in the room, the sound of the air passing through their noses as they breathed, the distant hum of electronics in the walls. 

The questions that came after that were stilted, she felt that the most important moment of the conversation had just happened, the iron gauntlet that had been slammed down on the table among the velvet gloves with enough force to send them flying and clear the metaphorical board. She waited, patiently, as less important, pithier questions were asked and she answered to the best of her ability. Each time, Gallant said she was telling the truth, even when she was not. 

All in all, the conversation lasted an hour and a half, and when there were no more (immediate) questions to answer were the two Wards freed from the confines of meeting room four. 

In silence she and Gallant moved through the corridors, back to the Wards quarters, and it was not until they were inside that there was any sort of real interaction. 

"... Might need you to do that again for me," she said, shamelessly.

Gallant took off his helmet and stared at it for a moment, something clearly on his mind. It was not a happy thought, whatever it was, but he exhaled deeply and then, carelessly, tossed the piece of headgear onto the sofa. 

"Fine..." it was gruff, and then he turned to focus on her. "Shall I?"

"Hit me."

He pointed a finger at her, paused for a moment, and then fired a beam at her. 

It barely packed any punch at all, but then again, he was not really trying to hurt her. 

Huh, she felt... happy. 

Oh right, it was just a consequence of his power. But still, the sensations, so it altered electrical signals? She wondered if it also came along with a hormone and endorphin release as well, or was it purely altering brain impulses? Well either way, this information was fed back near instantly and the Spider was already parsing through it, extrapolating, comparing it to the knowledge it already possessed on host species physiology and biology, neurochemistry---

It reviewed the entire those topics in a moment. 

Extrapolations, Gallant made her feel happy but there were other emotions of course, all of which could be replicated. Gallant's power was... weak. Multiple applications would enhance it, pack more of a punch, she had seen him create cannonball like blasts of it, were those more effective than beams? Something to experiment with. 

"Done."

"... You'll need to meet my mum, right?" he pressed.

"Yeah, I'd hate to be given a name then get the wrong person," she said, and smiled at him, a genuine one. How she wished that she could have been in his position before... well, not the crystallised relative part, but knowing that he had guaranteed freedom for a loved one.

There was a change that came over Dean, those broad shoulders slumped an inch and that same tension that held his face released as well. All at once he looked older, not by much, but enough. 

"... You want a hug?" she offered. "I know you have a girlfriend, but as a friend?"

"... I think I'm gonna sleep, to be honest with you, I suddenly feel... yeah."

Armsmaster wasn't the only one running on fumes, eh?

"Don't you have a patrol?"

"Nah... I just came in on call in case of shit going down, but I can sleep in my outfit... plus they've got you."

"I suppose... sleep well Gallant."

"Thanks, Taylor... don't push yourself too much, right?" With that Gallant moved for his room, walking more slowly than before and fumbling with the door handle a bit before he got in and closed it behind him.

Chapter Text

It had been another night of convoy escort and Taylor was... not exactly tired, but she would rather appreciate some time to think and consider everything going on or just... decompress. There had not been any problems tonight at least, no gigantic heavily armoured super trucks bursting onto the highway, no mad bastards trying to impede the supply of essentials to the people of the city.

Just a night flying up and down the highway, occasionally enjoying the sights and aurora of the Crystal Valley and deep in her thoughts.

Alas, opportunities to relax a little were not in the books for the moment.

Command  : Can all Protectorate members and Wards present on site please come for a mandatory meeting in Conference Room 4.

She had wondered why they were all in today, it was the first time they had all been together since the prelude of the Leviathan fight.

"What is it this time..."

Vista was evidently still waking up, judging by the drowsiness in her voice and slump to her posture.

Taylor supposed that she could understand that on some level. Not like she slept, but she had been rather enjoying watching a video when the call came through summoning them all. Carlos and Chris, who had been half asleep when the summons came, had quickly snapped into full wakefulness as if a near lethal amount of caffeine had been pumped into their veins, whilst Dean was clearly a morning person and had already been good to go.

Most of the full-time heroes were already present, bar Triumph, who arrived not long after they did.

The PRT Agent supervising the meeting evidently was keen to get things going, as not long after and once everyone had found a seat or elected to remain standing, she began proceedings.

"Sorry to call everyone in so early, but we have a situation within the city that everyone should be aware of, and now have some footage to back it up and lead the conversation. Seeing how chaotic things have been recently, you all need to be aware of what is going on before you go out in the field again. The footage may not be exceptional but it shall serve to illustrate."

A click of a button.

A still image appeared on the projection screen of a Parahuman, body entirely composed of some manner of glossy, porcelain like material. The face lacked any semblance of humanity, six eyes were set in it in a trio of uneven rows without any indication of a mouth or nose. Wings composed of sharp-looking shards of the same material extended from a point in the figure's back, clawed hands held the broken, crystalline head of some manner of horror.

Taylor's eyes snapped to that aspect, rather than focusing on the figure themselves.

Wait a minute---

"This is Allocer. Relative unknown until a few months ago when they and a number of members of the Fallen cult surrounding the Oort-Spider attacked Quarantine Site-9 and successfully penetrated the exterior defences. For anybody unfamiliar, Quarantine Site-9 surrounds the former Mt. Jacobs National Park that is currently the Crystal Valley, and where the Oort-Spider rests."

Taylor could feel the eyes suddenly moving to her, as if the mere mention of that thing was enough to make people automatically think of her.

What kind of mad bastard tried to break into a Quarantine Site!

Especially one containing the Oort-Spider!

She supposed that some people just had a death wish... errr, fate worse than death wish.

"Whilst PRT efforts ensured that the other Fallen were pushed back, Allocer is now operating within Brockton Bay, and is accompanied by others, the Fallen tend to operate in distinct groups focused on particular Endbringers---" ' it isn't an Endbringer' "---so as a result of the crystallisation, the Bay has likely attracted them."

There was an emphasis on the last part, as if the woman was trying not to sound disgusted but didn't manage to fully curtail it, as if describing flies attracted to a corpse.

As it was, and possibly as a result of this slip, she glanced down at her notes for a moment.

"So… what now?" it was Miss Militia who asked.

"Well firstly, all Wards are advised to avoid Allocer or fights involving them unless absolutely necessary. Their official ratings are Breaker 4, Mover 10 and Brute 3-8, during the break in of Quarantine Site-9 they fought Alexandria to buy time for the other Fallen... as it stands, there are almost certainly others in the Bay but so far only Allocer has been engaging."

A pause.

"How'd they take on Alexandria?"

"Ah, thank you for asking, Assault. Whilst the exact nature of their power is not understood, Allocer can achieve supersonic speeds, and is suspected to becoming more durable the faster they fly, so over the course of their brief exchange they were able to outpace Alexandria or hit her with enough force and fast enough that she was unable to grip them," the Agent clicked a button on the small remote control, and the image on the projector changed to a video.

The footage was a little shaky, and within a moment Taylor recognised somewhere on the edge of the city... her parents used to take her to a part on that street to play, they had a nice swing set.

In the footage however, things were a bit more drastic.

"As it is, other Parahumans have been appearing recently, specifically Empusa of the Fallen, who is on record as being from the 'Leviathan' faction as it were, long criminal history," on the screen, a woman was stood surrounded by what looked like a rippling bubble of water... and within that bubble were others, floating around within it as if the rules of gravity did not apply.

"Just to clarify folks, this is the group that Assault and myself ran into the other day, causing trouble not far from the ferry station," Dauntless explained, and there was a few sounds of comprehension.

Ah, the one that Sophia had mentioned as well during that pizza eating session?

"We do not have a huge amount of information to go on at this stage about other groups, but likely there are more."

The video resumed for only a second or two, then paused, a dot in the air was circled in red to draw their attention to it before continuing.

The dot shot like a falling star to earth, smashing into one of the airborne figures surrounding the woman surrounded by the bubble in a flying tackle that drove both to the ground. There was camera shaking, reorienting to focus on what had happened on the part of its holder, and next moment they were looking at a long trench formed in the road even as pieces of tarmac were still landing around it.

The same pale figure before, Allocer was standing at the end of this trench, and within a moment had shot into the air again.

It did not take a genius, or even somebody with her capacity for analysis, to understand what had happened. If being hit by a car at a certain speed could implode chest cavities and rupture organs, what would the impact of somebody flying supersonic speeds and ploughed into the ground do?

The results were smeared against the edges of the trench left behind.

"Fucking hell."

Nobody called Sophia up on her language.

"So... what's the plan for dealing with them?" Triumph asked after a moment pause, putting forward the question on everybody's minds at that moment.

"The PRT is keeping Legend on notice until Allocer next appears… he's fast enough to keep up with them, unfortunately the options are relatively low, Allocer's speed makes them a real problem to deal with, just like Purity."

"We brought in Purity, though…" Chris muttered.

"Through a combination of incredible luck and incredible personal risk, you are correct, a level of risk the PRT is not keen to put you all into again."

It was not luck! Oh how she hated when things were so easily attributed to something so meaningless as the notion of luck!

"We helped fight Leviathan right after, so the not putting us at risk part rather falls apart," Vista said, in a manner that was almost catty. Ah, she was fully awake now.

Those were extreme cases, we don't like putting you guys at risk, at all," Assault, to the rescue… or at least to try and diffuse the situation.

As the others rambled and discussed the matter, Taylor's mind was already turning over ideas and strategies.

A combination of Vista and Clockblocker's power, just because this Parahuman was tough and fast did not mean much if they could set it up right… the right use of powers always had a way around them, right? Unless you were like, the Siberian... or that one Russian Shaker everyone was scared of. It said a lot about her mental state that she was already thinking of ways to counteract it, already feeding that information back.

The Spider would make a better job of it, of course, but her own initial analysis and ideas all factored into it.

"---Suffice it to say, nobody should be taking the risk of engaging Allocer unless it is absolutely necessary," the Agent declared with just a little steel to her voice, evidently done with the current conversation. "Wards should not leave Headquarters in groups of anything less than three or with a Protectorate member. Historically the Fallen tried to abduct Wards for the purpose of marriage and... breeding."

What a grim way to put it, the PRT Agent looked uncomfortably jsut saying it.

Taylor was not quite sure how the PRT Agent managed to say it without pausing and with such a clinical tone of voice… the idea was inherently abhorrent in so many ways.

Her eyes glanced to the back of Vista's head automatically, and she was not the only one to do so either.

Well... she had read before about the Fallen doing that, and its not as if they tended to be picky with genders either... but the immediate response in her mind if somebody tried to abduct Vista involved... a lot of very brutal imagery that did not quite seem right for how a well-adjusted person should react.

Imagery in which her hands looked a lot more like claws or scythes ripping people apart or putting her hands through their heads. Flashes of Bakuda's bloodied, brutalised face came to mind, unbidden.

She was lighting up; she could feel the increased energy release within her chest.

Taylor reached up and rubbed at the corners of her eyes.

It did little to alleviate the thoughts, but it disguised her face for a moment and allowed her to think.

There was further discussion on the matter, the meeting was devolving into speculation rather than cold hard facts.

"We shall also speak with Ordinant after the meeting, please."

Easy enough, and with something akin to a sinking feeling in her stomach Taylor waited patiently as the others filed out, a few glances were sent her way, Dennis even put a hand on her shoulder for a moment as he stepped past.

The woman wasted no time.

"We did not want to cause you undue concern, Ordinant, but there is every chance that the Fallen might attempt to target you. Naturally the PRT will be doing everything it can to guarantee your safety."

"... I suppose it makes sense. I killed Leviathan, it must be rough to lose your god," she said, trying to put just a little humour into it. More for her own sake than the Agent's.

"Quite, but Allocer and their faction is what concerns us more, in case they make an attempt to abduct you."

Would they even be able to contain her if they tried? It led to a few seconds of idle speculation... if things really came to it, she supposed that she could just release the full energy of her heart to vaporise anything around her, or put her feet on the ground to crystallise any prison somebody could throw her in. Or turn into metallic goo, or... one of any manner of problems. The speculation made her rather wonder on how the PRT had ever planned to contain her, had the President not passed his own decision.

"So long as my dad is safe, I will be fine," she said, the Agent did not look convinced.

"Even so, from now on you will be on convoy duty with somebody else there, likely one of the Movers like Assault or Velocity, just to keep an eye on things."

"Okay."

It made sense at least... even if she was far more concerned for them then for herself.

Taylor : How are things going Aimee?

Aimee : Good! We had plenty of people come today and a lot of people are getting more hopeful

Aimee : Lots of people have been asking about you

Aimee : I wasn't sure what to tell them 

Taylor : It's a hard one, sorry to put you in an awkward place

Aimee : It's okay I'm getting used to it. 

Aimee : Do you think you'll be able to help anybody else soon?

Taylor : I can help one person but I promised to help somebody, he made sure that I could do so... if that makes sense?

Aimee : Not really, but that's fine

Aimee : I don't need to understand how things work, I just have faith that you'll be able to help others :)

The more life changes, the more it remains the same. 

She was glad for that, that among the madness, some things seemed immutable.

Her dad's new job within the PRT was helping to organise people and get paperwork filled, and despite the somewhat radical jump from Dockworkers Union hiring director to PRT bureaucrat, he seemed to be doing pretty damn well with it. At least, every time she passed by his office he was up to his eyebrows in paperwork, and often taking delivery of a new stack.  

She would expect nothing less, for years he had been fighting so very hard to help the boys in the Dockworkers and now that same passion and energy was being directed into his new workplace. Oh, she had no doubt that there might be a few nepotism hires in the future, a few 'I know somebody perfectly suited for this' but to be honest, the PRT could do a lot worse then some of the Union members.

It was only natural for human beings to look out for the ones they loved, she had done the same in pushing forward her dad for a position, to guarantee his safety. 

With a step taken back from mankind, one began to see all the links that held society together, the little social contracts and things that one took for granted as 'just something people did' rather than as implicit means of trust and reliance. If just one of those things fell apart, how many other dominoes would fall? 

How long did the world have? With so many problems within it, it was amazing that things were not so much worse than they were. 

Every year, several large population centres were attacked by (previously) unstoppable beasts, ruining them and setting the countries of origin back by billions of dollars and causing mass migrations in truly bad cases. Entire land masses had been sunk into the ocean causing widespread devastation and changes to sea level. Yet somehow the world continued, not quite the same as before but still chugging inevitably along. Was it a testament to the human spirit, or was it simple pig-headedness, that eternal urge to strive onwards?

The more she dwelled upon it, the more data she took in… the less things made sense.

She had been born into a world that was slowly decaying, but according to the history books, once things had been so much more peaceful. What would that world have been like to live and grow up in? A world where there were no powers, no Endbringers, and only the occasional war to be concerned about?

All insignificant. 

This was the world in which she lived. 

To distract herself from the navel gazing, Taylor floated up to her father's cramped new office and found him sitting at his desk, the top half of his face poking over the top of a wall of paperwork thick enough to stop bullets. 

"... They're not working you too hard are they, dad?" she asked as she floated in, not bothering to knock. 

He looked up, and despite the signs of tiredness he was smiling at her. 

"Not with you here to light up my day," he replied as he put aside his pen and deployed that most fearsome of weapons, dad humour, using her nuclear heart as the topic of a bad joke.

She found herself cringing, which was not really such an unpleasant thing. It showed that she still had the same visceral reaction as any anyone else.

"Har har har," just for that she deliberately dimmed the star in her chest, as if in spite even as she floated around the side of the desk to give him a hug. 

She got one in return and her dad drew up a spare chair for her to sit on. Unlike with her meeting the other day, she carefully placed herself on it, legs crossed. 

Small, idle chatter passed between them, discussions on how their respective days were going, what was going on and the like. All very mundane, all very normal.

She reached out to grab a form, curious about what he was working on. When he used to bring paperwork home she used to look over the forms from time to time, curious to see what was going on and he would indulge her, after all, it was not like she would ever meet most of the people involved right---

And yet, he stopped her.

"Ah, you're not allowed to read those ones, Taylor."

She stared at him blankly.

"Confidentiality reasons, you know some of these people."

She had fought an Endbringer to a standstill. She had freed people from infinite, looping torture and captured Capes trying to only make the situation in the city worse and worse and her father still was a stickler for such things. Quite honestly, and utterly out of nowhere, it made her chuckle and giggle uncontrollably despite herself.

She was not sure if he quite understood what was going through her head, he could never truly understand. Nobody could.

But he joined in and it felt for a moment she felt so perfectly normal. It was the little things that made her human. She took a picture of them together behind his desk, her father pulling that slightly awkward dad grin, and it went into the folder of special moments. 

She ended up spending the rest of the lunch break with him.

Chapter Text

It had been a long time.

"Hello, Taylor."

Zoe and Alan Barnes looked as if they had aged several years in the space of a week or three.

That was the first thought that crossed Taylor's mind as she met with the Barneses. Amazing what grief can do to a person, the small, subtle changes, and the larger scale ones, both in terms of appearance and personality. Anne as well, although perhaps because she was younger, the effects were less pronounced, but she looked paler, and thinner as well... the last time she had seen her had been just after Emma's operation. Back when everything seemed so hopeful. 

"Hey guys," she said, automatically. 

She had been waiting for this day, ever since she sent that letter and faced up to the fact that she would have to do this. The thoughts and questions had always come to her whenever she was not keeping herself occupied with work or distracted with videos... especially the question of what she would actually say to the Barnes when the time came. 

And now she was here, all those planned out responses were coming back to her but none of them were satisfactory. 

The meeting was taking place in part of the Headquarters, like almost everything in Taylor's life at the moment. 

"... You look well," Alan said back.

She managed to force out a sort of chuckle in response to that. 

It felt a little forced. 

"I look like shit, or some sort of jeweller's dream," she said back, although the humour did not land very well, she could tell by the moment's pause that followed. What was it like for them to see her now, when the last time they did she was still a good portion flesh and bone? Suddenly they were staring at a mass of crystal without pupils, without skin only the benefit of human clothing to give the impression of normality---

"... I'm sorry about Emma…"

"Ah, it's okay Taylor."

It was one of those things you said automatically, that things were okay. You lied for the benefit of others, or because the shock made you act weirdly. Even with the time that had passed, she had no doubt that the three of them would still be in such a state. It took her weeks to snap out of that horrible fugue after her mother died. She had seen so much death, been to so many funerals now for the other sufferers that she recognised that strange, discordant serenity that came over people in that horrible, horrible headspace. 

"We are just glad to know what happened and that she isn't..." Alan added, only to stop himself, unable to say it.

'Isn't stuck as a statue forever'

"She didn't suffer," Taylor said, suddenly.

'She did, until that moment.'

"I mean... when it happened," she went on, in short, jolting sentences that were rapidly devolving. "I... I made sure of it. It was instant, she didn't want to crystallise." She couldn't meet their eyes, she lowered them to focus on the table, taking comfort in its blank uniformity even as she stared for some point far beyond it. "There's nothing else, nothing left. I'm sorry. She would have been stuck forever like that, and she didn't want that. I'm sorry."

'I killed your daughter'

The long silence was horrible. 

"... It's alright, Taylor."

"It's not alright!"

They did not deserve for her to snap at them like that, it was entirely on her. 

She was responsible for this, if she had just not fallen unconscious, or not taken the risk by saving Aegis, or just dodged Leviathan better than she would not have been knocked off the roof. The Oort-Spider would not have needed to interfere, Emma would still be alive and they might even now be sitting side by side, commiserating the continued crystallisation of her shoulder even as they continued to make memories together.

She had no idea what to say. 

All of the times she had tried to think it through, simulate likely scenarios, none of them fell into place as this conversation had. She had imagined them being angry with her or bawling their eyes out… but for them to just be looking at her like this in silence was somehow worse. It was the lack of knowing, they were all thinking but she could not know what, could not read their expressions well enough to know for sure. 

It was Alan who spoke up, voice low and controlled. 

"You said in your letter something about what happened... can you tell us everything, Taylor?" 

How many times had Taylor told the story now, and to how many people? It felt like dozens of times, she could recite it automatically, see the vivid scenes flashing through her memory and recall so many sensations and thoughts from that time... but despite how often she had told it, she did so again without a moment’s hesitation. There was only so much you could put in writing, compared to in person, a letter could not give the proper depths of emotion, even though it was difficult to do so. 

She refused to just tell it like normal, Emma and her family deserved better. 

Even if there were so many gaps in her own knowledge. She still had no idea how Emma even knew that she was in trouble, or how she found Taylor.

Always more questions, questions she was not sure she wanted to know the answers to...

The story was both mercifully short and tortuously long, just telling it brought back images and memories, unbidden, that had her pausing at times, only to force herself to continue.  

"... And then she was gone, I made sure there was nothing left, to make absolutely sure... and then I kind of lost it and fought Leviathan."

It was such an anticlimactic way to put it, but... the fight with the Endbringer was the insignificant part of this story. 

Leviathan was just the inciting incident behind all this.

Alan had an arm around the two Barnes women, Taylor stared at the table, listening to the sobbing and the sounds that they made, unable to lift her head to look them in the eyes. She could imagine all the questions they had had about everything that had happened, and now to hear it all from Taylor's perspective...

She found herself being drawn into thought, into the safe, comfortable distraction of speculation and analysis, even though she could hear them, could hear their sorrow and was as much a part of it as they were. 

It was only when one of them addressed her that she realised how much time had passed, that they had been quietly consoling one another for a good ten minutes. Enough time to accept things and compose themselves.

"We want you to have this," Anne said, suddenly, and put a small box on the table between them. 

Reaching into it, Taylor opened it and looked at what was inside, at the light gleaming off its silver surface. "She had it in the shelter, I think she wanted to get some practice done but she was too nervous..." 

Emma's flute, the fancy, high end one that she had started learning on, the one that she had insisted Taylor teach her how to use.

"... You guys should keep it, I mean, it was hers and I don't imagine that there is much left, you know, what with the Crystal Valley," she offered them the out, the option to retract the offer even as her eyes moved between them. They were offering the flute to the person responsible for their daughter’s death. Did that mean that they forgave her, or had they not realised? 

Would the hatred come later? 

"Well, she started learning so that she could play with you, and yours is probably back in the house..." Zoe said, trailing off.

"... Only if you guys are really sure, I mean, I don't want to deprive you..."

The box was pushed a few inches closer, a prompt for her to take it, there were no complaints or suggestions otherwise. Wordlessly, she extended her hand and did so, lifting the case. It looked so glossy and new... it was strange to think that this was one of the last things that Emma had held.

"Thanks, guys, I'll treasure it forever.

Anne and Zoe's eyes were glistening a little, Alan gave them both a squeeze around the shoulders. They were both trying to be strong, Taylor wondered whether she should leave the room, and felt herself rise an inch or two in the air before she stopped herself. 

"I'll be there, for the... ceremony, I mean, if you plan to have one.”

"Of course Taylor, we wouldn't dream of having it any other way."

In some ways, she still wished that at least one of them had gotten angry with her, but there was also a certain joyous relief to know that they did not hate her.

That night, Taylor floated her way up to the roof of the PRT's temporary building. 

She had asked not to be on convoy duty tonight... and whilst it had caused a little bit of shuffling around, it felt right to do so. She had been putting in a huge amount of time recently, definitely stretching the legal limit (and almost certainly exceeding it when you included other duties and activities), nobody could begrudge her a single night after such an emotionally fraught meeting. 

The Barnes family had left hours ago, and in the time since she had barely spoken to anybody, even her father.

In the distance the Valley's aurora shone brightly, rippling curtains of light that made her imagine a gigantic serpent undulating, and beyond it, a myriad selection of stars whose brilliant glittering was unobstructed by the clouds that hung over the rest of Brockton Bay. The distant forest, the vast, towering trees with their strange canopies, the small luminescent forms that flitted about within like fireflies when they were in fact several metre long creatures with internal power cores... it was still beautiful in a horrific way.

Carefully she levitated up the box containing the Barnes' gift and opened it. With her crystal hands carefully placed into a pair of gloves to avoid scratching the silver, she dutifully assembled the flute with all the care it deserved. 

Bringing it to her lips, it took a moment to adjust to it, her crystal lips were not as able to form a seal as flesh, at least not at first, but after a few moments she worked it out. The first proper note filled the air and then, she began to play. 

It was an easy tune, not far off beginner, actually. It was far below her own level and the sort of thing that a person learned when they first started learning to play... it had been what she once taught her best friend.

Dimly, she was aware of something in her eyes. 

... What a stupid, inefficient use of Leviathan's water echo...

She did not stop it; she did not want to. Even if it was just a cheap simulation of crying, it felt... good... to finally manage it.

Taylor played on into the night, even as her notes wavered and her heart flared erratically, until the sun rose.

Chapter Text

A day or two after her meeting with the Barneses, and once she had settled herself somewhat through a combination of music and distracting herself with work, Taylor flew over to the convention hall that Aimee and Joe were holding meetings at.

Joe had invited her, well, she had a standing invite but he had reiterated it, and whilst she did not want to be too early she also wanted some time just to spend with them both.

As it turned out, she arrived just a little after both her friends, the door was open and the two other crystallisation sufferers and Aimee's uncle were still busy getting things into gear. Oh wait, they had more people helping this time? Taylor didn't recognise any of them, but that did not really say much in a city of hundreds of thousands.

She floated in curiously, glancing around as they continued setting up tables and chairs around her.

The first to notice her entrance was Aimee's uncle, who stepped over with a plastic cup filled with orange liquid.

"Hi Ordinant, want some juice?" he offered with a smile.

He looked just a little comical, this incredibly muscular man with a comparatively tiny cup of juice in hand that he was offering her. To Taylor, he always looked somewhat like a Doberman interacting with a tiny kitten whenever he was near Aimee.

"I'm good, I cannot drink properly I am afraid," she excused. "Good to see that you guys managed to get some help with setting things up."

"Yeah, family from out of state were a bit slow in arriving," he said, glancing over at a few of them. "Plus its surprisingly hard to get into the Bay at the moment what with how many roads are closed up, so those slowpokes really took their time getting in."

"Really? Big family..."

It was hard for her to imagine. The Heberts had always been a very nuclear family... there was her mother's side of course, but things had always been a bit tense there.

"Yeah, close-knit lot, we're country folk for the most part, Aimee's side moved to the big city but we always stayed close, never know when you need help on the farm," he said with a chuckle. She could just imagine a young Aimee being roped into picking apples or something like that, scowling at her free time being taken up when she could have been playing on that Gameboy she used to love... Aimee had always talked about hating manual labour, actually. "Anyway, Aimee and Joe are in the back, thanks for blessing us with your presence."

What an odd way to phrase things.

It gave her a moment's pause, and in that time the man had moved on to his next task.

Well, he did just ask somebody made of solid gemstone with no life functions if they wanted a drink, so perhaps he was just not very clued in socially or spoke before he thought?

She put it aside for the moment, and instead moved through the convention hall. Plenty of folk were still gathering, the various tables with leaflets and information pamphlets about crystallisation were present, that printer must have been running for a while. Last time after introductions, Joe and Taylor had spoken about their own experiences with the crystal, but afterwards they had moved among the crowd to the best of their ability taking questions, consoling as needed.

It was like the group chat, but drastically expanded, with Aimee, Joe, and Taylor able to guide and provide advice rather than stumbling blindly through it, learning through pain and experience.

She wished there had been somebody back then who could have guided them.

Somebody who would have listened and explained that the pain was normal, that the nightmares that the others had were not just them. It had taken a few weeks for the first to break in the group chat and talk about the nightmares, about the nightly reliving of the horrors, and that was a big step in binding them all together.

The dam broke and suddenly the others were able to discuss it more openly without fear of being seen as disturbed.

Aimee was up and about, taking advantage of her newfound mobility to help put up some signs and one of those office flip boards with the big sheets of paper to write and draw on. Joe sat off to the side and---oh, he was in Aimee's wheelchair, his old, somewhat less glamorous one gone.

Good, he deserved it, it took a certain bravery and character to refuse mobility in favour of somebody else.

He was the next on her list once she had the opportunity. It was only right, if she had helped Aimee. He was watching the crowd, allowing the other two to chat.

"How have things been going, guys?"

"Hmm, not bad! Plenty of people are coming, and I think we are really helping, you know?" Aimee said.

"Seems like plenty of people are still coming."

"Word of mouth's helping, they know that if they come, they are not going to get snapped up by the PRT or police or whatever and shipped off to camps, did you know that some of them were worried about that?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... you remember how people used to be scared that we were infectious?"

"Ah," she made a hum of understanding.

Yeah, she did remember those times... like when she first met Assault and Battery and they got a look at her leg, that had been the former's concern.

"Seems people have been spreading that rumour about but me and Joe have been doing all we can to prove it otherwise."

"Well, if the PRT was willing to have me then clearly we must be safe, you can point that out to anyone causing trouble," she said, somewhat forcing her smile and giving Aimee a pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks, T-Ordinant. Oh, didn't ask but are you staying or just dropping by? I know you are probably busy."

"I'll stay, I mostly work nights to be honest. Being a small star kind of helps with keeping an eye on things." Not really the truth of course, the echolocation from that one bat Changer was far more useful... but putting it that way was easier for folks. "Not sure how much I can help; I don't have the most normal experience and story of course."

"Anything helps!" Aimee chirped.

At that point one of Aimee's extended family dragged her away to organise some things, pushing a load of papers into her hands. They gave a respectful nod to Taylor that seemed just a little over the top, perhaps they had never been around Capes before, and left Taylor and Joe behind.

On the plus side, everything was better organised now with them about.

"How are you, Joe?" she asked.

"Hm? Oh, not bad. Think I'm going to be doing a lot of talking today rather than speeches, it's easier for me to move between tables and chat with folk rather than organising stuff," he reached down and drummed his fingers against the side of the chair. Ah, of course. Limited mobility. "There's a few folks who promised to be here that I am hoping to see, all in a really bad place, you know? So I had them promise to come to give them something to look forward to."

"Yeah, I do."

A nod, Joe pushed his chin into his palm just a little moodily, eyes on the door.

Putting the weight and expectations on his own shoulders.

"Good on you Joe, really."

"Least I can do. I'm not as good with public speaking as Aimee, she always knows what to say to folk to make them feel better, I just do my best."

She gave him a pat on the shoulder and he managed a smile.

They had a good half an hour before the first civilians began to arrive, during which Taylor helped with putting up some bunting, the power of levitation was useful in such things and she was contributing!

The first few looked around and took their seats, and from there, there were more and more. Taylor hung out to the side and allowed Aimee and co to take care of things, somebody at the door was handing out leaflets to people who hadn't been before, she found herself idly flicking through one.

Not the best produced, but earnest. It contained pretty much all the basic information one could expect about crystallisation, including a helpful 'what to expect' section.

Taylor helped out to the best of her ability, plenty of people wanted to speak with her, just as many were nervous about doing so, so she spent a lot of time listening in between speaking with people and their concerns.

"Is it true that you can help people walk again?"

"It is, I saw her do it before! She helped the girl over there walk!"

"You are right, Ordinant saved me," Aimee, having evidently heard them said with a smile, stepping over to speak with the small group that was near the corner of the room, discussing this.

"Do you think that she'll be able to help my mom?"

"Give her time, and she will be able to save all of us," Aimee promised.

Taylor felt a sudden weight on her shoulders, the weight of expectation.

Eyes were focusing on her.

All of their salvations depended a lot more on the PRT and how much data they could feed her, she was still waiting on a resolution to all of them, leaving her in the agonising limbo of waiting. At least now she was far less pressed for time than before, no longer putting every single moment to use in the sure knowledge that every moment lost to the crystal was one step closer to death.

Their gazes felt so very heavy, and now that Aimee had said it, it was passing around the room swiftly. Ah, Taylor had taken on this duty, there was no time to look back and wonder whether it was a good thing---

Gunshots.

Her eyes snapped to the doorway.

Screams.

Taylor was flying across the room before she had really had time to think, flying over the heads of the surprised and frightened crystallisation sufferers.

She noticed, from the corner of her eye, as Aimee's uncle silently stepped away towards the back of the room.

But she had more important things to take care of right now.

Her phone was in her hand, pressing the emergency call function to the PRT.

"Ordinant, you've reached console," came the voice of somebody she did not recognise. Probably a normal PRT Agent, what with most of the Wards and Protectorate members being so occupied nowadays.

Anybody could work console, and in situations like what currently afflicted the city, it was all hands-on deck.

The first thing to fill her vision as she emerged from the hall was a sphere of what looked like rippling water about the size of a house. It surrounded and was centred on a battered and beaten-up pick-up truck filled with people, some of whom were on the flatbed. Plenty of them were armed. On the ground, mostly near the doorway to the hall, were people, plenty of them conscious with hands to various injuries, and a mother shielding a child with her own body.

Rapid deployment. Hit and run.

Group arrives looking perfectly normal and puts on their masks, Empusa creates her bubble to give them greater mobility, and the effects of the bubble---

She moved forward and up, shone brightly to blind or distract and force them to focus on her rather than the injured civilians, the poor people who had come to get some advice on their condition.

"Attack at Wolfe Convention Hall. Probably Fallen, got that one woman with the sphere of water."

"Empusa?"

The gunmen were turning their attention to her now, a hail of bullets hit her in a wall of impacts that forced her back a few feet. The bullets bounced and deflected wildly as they hit the opalescent crystal, or managed to crack and sink in. For each bullet fired it was as if she was being hit by several more, wait... yes, that was it.

Each bullet fired from the guns left as a single, but upon crossing the edge of the water bubble it duplicated; a single bullet became two, three, five.