It Gets Worse [Worm AU Fanfic] Complete

[Radek]

And thus the Slaughterhouse 9 become Slaughterhouse None. Brockton Bay sure is looking like an unhealthy place for villains right now.

 

[edale]

James Aramis

With a sense of dreadful inevitability, James watched as the forklift went straight through the rope barrier and shattered the window with the tines of its forks. It came to a halt as the driver stamped on the brakes, but then a large chunk of the glass swung down, its razor-sharp edge hitting the restraining strap in just the right place to sever it cleanly. The forklift was tilted slightly forward with the sudden stop, and James got there just in time to see the piano begin to slide off the forks. This, of course, unbalanced the forklift farther forward. As it did so, the butterflies flitted out and perched on top of the piano, which then slid off the forks and disappeared out of sight.

For the second time in his life, James Aramis swore.

"Motherfucker."

Click to shrink...

Did... Did you just make it so the butterflies landing on the piano was the final tiny bit of force needed to drop it?

Awesome.

 

[Ack]

Did... Did you just make it so the butterflies landing on the piano was the final tiny bit of force needed to drop it?

Awesome.

Click to shrink...

Mayyybe

They also rode it down, then let go a split second before impact, so they were able to settle on Taylor.

That's what the shot of fear aura was for. Remember how he thought she turned it down to a low background fear? She actually turned it all the way off, that was his danger sense telling him to cut his losses and get out NOW.

Click to shrink...

That is absolutely correct.

 

[Hye]

January 11, 2011
Protectorate Base
Houston, TX

Click to shrink...

I am not sure why, but I seriously thought, until the Eidolon part, that this was "The Price of Blood". I really don't know why, but suddenly the detour from a Taylor-centric POV makes much more sense

 

[Ack]

I am not sure why, but I seriously thought, until the Eidolon part, that this was "The Price of Blood". I really don't know why, but suddenly the detour from a Taylor-centric POV makes much more sense

Click to shrink...

I'm actually doing a chapter for that one next.

 

[Hye]

I'm actually doing a chapter for that one next.

Click to shrink...

Yaas! That makes me very happy

 

[wildfire142]

Very nice end for Jack Slash, though what will happen with Bonesaw?

 

[Ack]

Very nice end for Jack Slash, though what will happen with Bonesaw?

Click to shrink...

We shall see what we shall see.

 

[Chojomeka]

You know with all the fame the Samaritan's will be getting for beating the Nine twice I could easily see the Elite taking a very vested interest in the team....cue new villains~

 

[january1may]

You know with all the fame the Samaritan's will be getting for beating the Nine twice I could easily see the Elite taking a very vested interest in the team....cue new villains~

Click to shrink...

...It took me a while to figure out that this was intended for One More Trigger.

 

[Chojomeka]

...It took me a while to figure out that this was intended for One More Trigger.

Click to shrink...

That's what I get for having too many tabs open...excuse me.

 

[Ack]

It Gets Worse

Part Eighteen: Spinning Out of Control



[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Amy

Amy looked down at the city they were currently hovering over. Or rather, Eidolon was hovering and Amy was standing on some kind of force-field platform. This wasn't something totally out of her experience—Aunt Sarah did this sort of thing from time to time—but she wasn't absolutely used to it. Besides, they were higher up than she was comfortable with. Vicky always flew low and slow with her.

"Boston?" she asked. "What are we doing in Boston?"

"Before I answer that, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and I need you to answer honestly." Eidolon's voice held a tone she'd never heard from the veteran hero. He sounded almost … uncertain. Which was ridiculous. Eidolon was about as likely to be uncertain as she was to start leading her own superhero team.

"Um, sure?" she ventured. She was way out of her depth now. Heroes didn't come to her for advice, they came to her for healing. But it was Eidolon asking. She didn't dare say no; not from fear but from respect.

He looked away over the city, apparently avoiding her gaze. "Do you think I do absolutely everything I can as a hero? Make the best use of my powers for the greatest good?"

"Well, y—" she began, then stopped herself. While the quick, facile answer was the one that came immediately to mind, she didn't want to just speak without thinking. So she paused, and thought about it. "Um. Is this a trick question? Because it feels like the answer you've got in mind isn't the one I'm thinking of."

"I know exactly how you feel," he said firmly. "Let me ask you another one. Do you think that right now, you're making the best possible use of your powers for the greatest good in the world? Is there something more, or something different, you could be doing with your powers that would reach more people than you're doing now?" Although she couldn't see his eyes, somehow she could feel his gaze as he looked back at her.

"I—" She paused again, uncertain. "I heal people," she said, trying not to sound defensive. "Sometimes I get up in the middle of the night and walk to the hospital so I can heal a few more. But it's never enough. It'll never be enough."

"No, it's not," he said flatly. "Someone I know asked me those questions not long ago, and I haven't been able to answer them to my satisfaction. Then she asked me another one."

He stopped talking then, and looked broodingly down over Boston. Amy waited for a few moments, until her patience ran out. "Well, what did she ask you?"

"Oh, sorry." He turned to face her once more, as if he'd forgotten her presence for a moment. "It was a hypothetical. What if Legend had decided that his power to create bright lights was good enough for him, and he chose to spend his superhero career walking people home from the supermarket after dark? He'd undoubtedly be good at it, but would he really be making the best use of his time?"

"Well, no, duh." This time, the response came out without Amy having to think about it. "He'd be wasting about ninety percent of his … wait a minute." A lightbulb had belatedly flashed on inside her head, changing her entire perspective of what Eidolon had just said. "Is that about me? Am I Legend in that?"

Eidolon chuckled lightly, but there wasn't much humour in it. "Actually, I think I'm the one it was aimed at, but you just proved my friend's point. That particular statement's a shotgun; it's got a very wide range of effect. There's a whole lot of capes it could apply to. That includes me. And, it seems, you."

"Let's say that it's not totally incorrect at the moment," Amy hedged. "You've asked some awkward questions and I've given you my best answers for the moment. So why are we in Boston? Or rather above Boston?"

"We're here because there are a couple of capes in this city I need to talk to," Eidolon said. "If we're going to graduate from walking people home at night, we need a little help."

"Yeah, I get that." Amy still had trouble fitting her head around the concept. However, as tempting as it was to dismiss it altogether, it was Eidolon who'd raised it in the first place. Sure, he wasn't the most charismatic of the Triumvirate—Legend held that title more or less by default—but there was still a sense of inevitability about what he said. "So who are we going to see?" She tried to remember who was in the Boston Protectorate. "Someone in the Protectorate? Or is it one of the Wards?"

"Neither." The force field extended around them, forming a sphere. "Brace yourself. This may get a little loud."

"Loud? What—?" Amy didn't get any farther, because they teleported again, and her ears were assaulted with the sound of thunder. Or rather, machine-gun fire. Slapping her hands over her ears, she stared at the sparks being struck from the exterior of the force-field, and the continuous muzzle-flashes from the machine-guns firing at them. Machine-guns protruding from the walls of what otherwise was quite a well-appointed office.

Eidolon gestured and the guns fell silent at the same time as all the lights went out. A desk which had been in the process of motoring down through a recess in the floor also stopped moving. The force-field bubble, now lighting the room with a soft green glow, wafted toward the desk where a heavy screen of what Amy presumed was bulletproof glass had already interposed itself between them and the person crouching behind the desk. That person, Amy finally saw, wore a mask of metal and wood as well as a white business suit.

"Accord?" she asked in disbelief. "We're here to talk to Accord?"

"We are," Eidolon said. He raised his voice. "We are not here to attack or even arrest you, Accord. I'm here to seek your assistance on a sensitive matter."

Accord stood up and brushed off his suit jacket. Amy realised the man was even shorter than her, by several inches. His expression as he stared up at the two capes was clearly replicated by the movement of the metal shards that made up his mask. "Most people have the good manners to make a prior appointment." His tone was stiffly offended.

Amy was still blinking at the sheer arrogance of the man when Eidolon replied. "I would have," he said blandly. "However, I was unsure if you would accept such an appointment at face value, and I would rather move things along. I apologise for my intrusion, but I need you to make a plan for me."

Behind his mask, Accord's eyes widened. Amy recognised the same expression she'd made when Eidolon had first approached her, and several times since then. "You are joking with me, I think." She was impressed with the way he almost managed to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

"Not in the slightest." Eidolon drifted to the floor, then stepped through the force-field bubble while leaving Amy inside. "I want to solve world hunger, and I need your advice on how to proceed."

Wait, he wants to do what? Amy's jaw dropped at the revelation. When Eidolon thought big, he thought big. It was definitely a step-up from being 'just' a superhero, even a world-renowned one. Solving world hunger was such a huge deal, she doubted anyone could get a grasp on the intricacies involved. Not even Accord could—

Accord's chin came up. "Well, it's about time."

"What?" blurted Amy, astonished almost beyond words.

Eidolon took a step forward. "So you'll help me? You'll make a plan?" The excitement was plain in his voice. "How long will it take?"

"No time at all." Accord's voice was scornful. "It's already done. I constructed that plan six years ago. And now you finally get around to doing something about it?"

"Six … years?" Eidolon sounded somewhat taken aback. "That's how long you've been a villain. Why would a villain make such a plan?"

Amy wondered if Accord had ever taken acting lessons. The sigh he let out was positively Shakespearean in its expressiveness. "I wasn't a villain when I made that plan." Dumbass, his tone said clearly. "I became a villain so that I could finance it. Because my superiors in the PRT were supremely uninterested in even looking at it, let alone passing it up the chain."

Amy's worldview was taking a few knocks today. "Wait, what now? The PRT had a plan to solve world hunger six years ago and didn't act on it?" He had to be lying.

Accord turned to face her. "Interrupting a conversation is rude, Panacea. Don't do it again. But to answer your question: yes. I presented the plan; they rejected it. They considered that meeting my work quotas and not 'wasting time'—" Somehow he managed to slot the quote marks into the sentence without using his hands. "—was more important than merely saving the starving children of the world."

Perhaps it was irritation about being spoken to so curtly, but Amy decided that Accord didn't even care about the starving kids. He probably just wants to be proven right.

Either Eidolon didn't share her low opinion of the man, or he was more concerned with results than motivations. "I need that plan," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "Is it up to date?"

"As of eight fifty-four this morning," the villain assured him. "Who are you going to be presenting it to? The President? Or the United Nations? Because I have strategies planned out for either presentation."

"Neither one." Eidolon gestured, and a series of force-field steps appeared next to the desk, allowing Accord to climb up from the lower level. "I'm going to implement it myself, and be damned with everyone who says it can't be done."

Accord climbed the steps and faced off against the Triumvirate hero, a foot shorter but not backing down in the slightest. "Then you are wasting my time. What you are proposing to do is impossible, without the money to set it in motion or the appropriate infrastructure to handle the collection and distribution. Or did you happen to have three point one trillion dollars at your disposal?"

Amy was pretty sure that nobody had that sort of loose change lying around, but Eidolon merely tightened his lips a little. "Why don't you let me see the plan first, and we'll see what's impossible and what's merely very difficult."

"Very well." Accord bit the words off as if they offended him. "Why don't we do just that." He gestured at the building around them. "You will, of course, restore the electricity first. My safe is set up so that loss of power locks it down."

As they walked off, not quite arguing in oh-so-polite tones, Amy began to wonder what she'd signed up for.

<><>​

Taylor

The last time I'd laughed so hard was when Sophia had managed to tangle herself and four boys up with duct tape while chasing me. Of course, that incident was on a par with earlier the same day, when Emma and Madison got themselves stuck in the toilets. I hadn't known about my power then, but it didn't make Lisa's tale any less funny.

"So—so wait," I gasped, leaning against Lisa, my knees weak from the laughter. "You were trying to get Brian's number when you poured paint all over yourself?" Tears were streaming down my face, and I'd handed off Chick Norris to Rachel so I didn't have to worry about him.

Glory Girl nodded, her face probably redder than mine was right then. "Yeah, um, sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to move in on—"

"Oh, you're not moving in on anything," I managed, in between giggles. "I only met him today." I took a deep breath and stood up straight. It was hard to say whether I was interested in him as a boy, or if I was just lost in aesthetic appreciation. But one thing was for sure: I certainly wasn't going to say anything to anyone about it.

"Pfft, hah," Lisa retorted, her eyes twinkling. "I've seen the way you look at him. If you're not interested, then I'm Legend in disguise."

Oh, god. She did not just say that. I blushed furiously. "Shut up!" I hissed. Vaguely, I wondered why my power wasn't taking revenge on her for my embarrassment. What if it's on her side about this? That was a kind of scary thought.

"But wait. What if I'm not—" Brian broke off, a worried look crossing his face. "Uh, I'm not saying I'm not interested, Taylor, but you know, we only met today. I mean, what if I get to know you, and the chemistry just isn't there?"

Which was actually a good point. Popular culture liked to portray teenaged boys as being interested, period. But they were people, too. They had likes and dislikes, just the same as everyone else. And it was entirely possible for a guy not to have feelings for me. In fact, it was downright plausible. I was certain he would do his best to let me down gently, but I had no idea how my power would take it. Would I end up being an accidental stalker if the rejection hurt me too much? Would I keep getting thrown into his path? Would he end up getting thrown into mine? I decided I didn't like that idea at all.

Unfortunately, I had no real idea how to handle the situation. I liked Brian well enough, for someone I'd known for less than a day. He was polite to me, and I couldn't get enough of checking out his abs through his t-shirt, but those weren't exactly a sound basis for building any sort of relationship on. Worse, this had the potential to cross the line from sweet to creepy real fast, especially if he got the idea he had to be nice to me or else. I wasn't quite sure what form the 'or else' might take (and I sincerely hoped it would never have to come up) but I couldn't help remembering what my power had done to other people who'd tried to hurt me. Even scarier was the fact that I'd never had a relationship. I had no idea how to do one, or even if I should be thinking about it right now.

"Taylor." Lisa's voice cut through my mounting worries. "Breathe."

"What?" I squeaked, looking over at her.

Her smile gave me some assurance. "It's okay. You don't hate Brian, do you?"

"No!" I said at once. "I just …" I trailed off. I wasn't quite sure what I did think about Brian, but I knew that I didn't hate him.

"Good." She beamed at the both of us. "How about you both just take it easy and see where it goes, then?"

That was easy for her to say. I was just about to give her a dirty look when Glory Girl said, "So wait. If he's not your boyfriend …" She looked from me to Brian. "I mean, if you two aren't dating, are you doing anything Saturday ni—what the fuck?"

I blinked as I realised that she now had a white splatter on her shoulder, where there hadn't been one before. She twisted her head around to stare at it, then up at the sky, as if searching for the offending bird.

"Well, well, well. Someone's power's got a problem with it," Lisa observed, giving me a broad wink. Her smirk should've been reclassified as a controlled substance; she was definitely riding a high.

"It's not like I can fucking control it," I told her through gritted teeth. Though it was kind of funny.

"Seriously, fucking birdshit?" Glory Girl tugged at her sleeve so she could get a better view of the damage. "I've been doing this for years, and I've never been shat on even once. Motherfucker."

I heard a weird wheezing, snorting sound and looked around to see Alec leaning against the wall, holding his sides and laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "That, right there," he managed. "That's what it feels like." Still laughing, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the pavement.

I couldn't help but wonder whether he meant me or Glory Girl.

<><>​

Amy

"So, did you get what you want?" asked Amy as Eidolon teleported them back into the open air.

He didn't answer, instead continuing to concentrate on a stack of three-ring binders several feet high. A flickering blue glow hovered over the folders, with a single insubstantial tendril disappearing into Eidolon's helmet around the centre of his forehead.

She gave him a count of ten, then cleared her throat loudly. Startled, he looked around as the blue glow cut off. "What?"

"Did you get what you want?" she repeated. "What is all that, anyway? Just the plans to end world hunger, or did you steal his plans for world domination as well?"

"Oddly enough, he didn't have any plans for world domination," Eidolon mused, sounding as though he didn't quite believe what he was saying. "But he did have plans for ending the energy problem as well as disease, overpopulation, government inefficiency, and several other issues. Including, and I have a hard time accepting this, crime."

Amy blinked. "Crime? The crime lord had a plan for ending the crime problem? Isn't that kind of … self-defeating?" She thought for a moment. "Or did he build in loopholes to make sure he wouldn't be affected?"

Eidolon rubbed his chin. "That's the strange thing. He didn't. He actually seemed sincere when he said he went into crime to finance his plans."

"Which include bringing crime under control." Amy shook her head. "I am never going to understand the supervillain mindset. Anyway, you say he had plans for all that other stuff as well?"

"Oh, yes." For the first time, the bemused tone dropped away and excitement emerged. "And they all look solid. Given the right resources, I can make every single one of these work."

"What, really? Wow." Amy stared at the binders. They looked remarkably innocuous for something that had the potential to turn the world on its ear.

"Exactly. I still can't believe that nobody has actually looked at them before." The frustration was evident in his voice.

"Well, you know, supervillain." Amy frowned as something occurred to her. "So what did you do with him?"

"Nothing." There was a note of suppressed excitement in his voice. "I told him what I intended to do, and I left him drawing up plans to make it easier."

"Which reminds me." Amy gave Eidolon a pointed stare. "You still haven't told me what part I play in your plans."

"I haven't?" He sounded honestly surprised. "You haven't figured it out?"

"Well, no." If he'd been dropping clues, Amy had missed them all.

"Huh. Well, I'll give you a hint. A little bird told me that your powers include biokinesis, not just healing. Hold tight."

And with that, they teleported again. Amy blinked, a little dazzled by the transition from bright light to dim. A furious barking and growling arose, and she looked around to see a monstrous creature assaulting the force-field bubble. It was about six feet long and had the massive shoulders and front limbs of a gorilla, and the head and teeth of an oversized dog.

Eidolon gestured and the gorilla-dog thing was tossed away from the bubble. Amy saw a flicker of movement at the far end of the room and pointed. "What's that?"

"The person we're here to see." By the time Eidolon had finished speaking, another one of his force fields was bringing the person toward them. Dressed in a dirty lab coat, the guy was lanky with a mess of uncombed blond hair. To Amy's critical eye, he didn't look like much. "Good afternoon, Blasto," Eidolon greeted him politely. "I apologise for the unconventional entry, but I'm not interested in wasting time."

Amy blinked and stared covertly. This was Blasto? This was one of the guys she was scared she might turn into one day?

"Let me go and I won't release a plague that'll turn your lungs inside out," grunted the guy, straining fruitlessly against the force-field holding him.

Eidolon sighed. "One, you don't do plagues. Two, we'll both survive it, and then you get a kill order. Wouldn't you rather get a Nobel Peace Prize?"

That line was almost guaranteed to make anyone stop struggling and stare. Blasto was no exception. "Excuse me, fuckin' what again?"

"I want to solve world hunger," Eidolon said patiently. "You're going to facilitate this by creating the exact organism that I want. Panacea is here to check your work and make any improvements you have trouble managing. If we succeed, and we will succeed, you will never have to do crime again. There will be people—legitimate businesses and concerns—lining up around the block to throw money at you."

Blasto fell silent while he appeared to think this over. "What do you want me to make?" he asked eventually.

Amy couldn't see Eidolon's face, but his smile was plain to hear in his voice. "I thought you'd never ask."

<><>​

Toronto

Dragonslayer Base

Saint

"This is interesting."

Geoff looked around from where he was tinkering with his suit. "Hmm?"

Mags pointed at the screen. "Remember that sub-program that Dragon had for picking up anomalous patterns of buying certain equipment? The one we shut down back in oh-nine so it wouldn't get a line on our operations?"

"Yeah," he said, though he didn't really recall the program she was referring to. "What about it?"

"It caught my eye and I opened it up again, to see what was going on with it. Turns out that just before we killed it, it got a hit. One she never got the chance to follow up on."

"Translation, please." But he put down the screwdriver and headed over to where she sat at the console, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Couple-three years ago, there was someone in this dinky little town just over the border in New York State, buying up stuff through proxies and getting them delivered to a certain address. The thing is, the town's been abandoned for ten years, ever since the Nine paid them a visit."

"You just found an abandoned Tinker base." Geoff's eyebrows rose.

She tilted her head. "That's what it looks like."

"Excellent." Leaning down, he gave her a quick kiss. "Get the vehicles ready. We're going on a road trip."

<><>​

Amy

"Okay, so he's designing a food plant," Amy said carefully as they lifted off from Blasto's hideout. "One that gives you all the nutrition you need. It grows quickly and easily from the sub-Arctic to the dry tropics. In fact, it thrives in inhospitable surroundings." She looked at Eidolon, wondering if she'd missed anything important.

"But it doesn't do so well in fertile areas," Eidolon pointed out. "Where the locals are already planting wheat or corn or any other food crop, it doesn't compete. So it won't grow out of control and force other crops out."

"Which I never would have thought of," Amy conceded.

"Nor did I," admitted Eidolon. "Mouse Protector came up with the idea of the plant in the first place, and Accord specified the no-competition aspect. And the need to make them genetically robust, whatever that means."

"I think it's so a single disease or parasite can't just wipe them out?" ventured Amy. "That way you don't get a situation where they replace every other food plant in the area and then die of the plant equivalent of the common cold."

"That would be very bad indeed," Eidolon agreed gravely. "We'll be coming back tomorrow to see what he's come up with. In the meantime, is there anything you can think of that I've missed?"

"There's only one thing, but it's a really long shot." Amy hesitated. "In fact, I wouldn't even be considering it if you weren't working with villains already."

"You know another parahuman who could help model the food plant?" The excitement was plain in Eidolon's voice.

"Capable of it, I guess. Whether she's willing to help and can be trusted to do it?" Amy was beginning to have second thoughts about even bringing up the idea. "I really don't know."

Eidolon was no dummy. "Bonesaw," he said flatly. "You're thinking of Bonesaw."

Amy nodded. "Like I said, long shot."

"That's not just a 'long shot'." Eidolon obviously didn't like the idea any more than Amy did. "That's over the horizon."

"But she is a genius when working with biology." Amy felt it necessary to point this out, just for the sake of fairness. "She had diseases stored in her that don't exist in nature."

"Which she would've been perfectly happy to use on the city." Eidolon shook his head. "You're not improving her case."

"I'm not trying to." Amy grimaced. "I'm just making sure we've got all the facts before we make a decision here."

"Well, my decision is 'hell no'," Eidolon stated. "Not until we're absolutely certain we can't do it any other way. And maybe not even then." He shook his head. "Blasto, at least, knows to restrain himself from earning a kill order."

"That's fair," Amy said. "Do you really think we can pull this off? Solve things like world hunger using our powers?" It was an oddly exciting concept. She wasn't totally sure why she hadn't thought of it before.

"I think we can." Eidolon paused, then spoke again. "I hope we can. The last time someone tried this sort of thing was when Sphere was building his moonbase." He didn't have to elaborate on the fate of Sphere, or the moonbase. "Since then, punching villains has become the norm. I want to change that. If we can get a million of these food plants into famine-stricken areas around the world, we could feed tens of millions. Save literally millions of lives at a stroke."

Millions of lives. He wasn't wrong. Amy could really see it happening. Of course, it would require Blasto to get the food plant just right, but that was what her job was about. "Why haven't we done this before? Why haven't I done this before?" She wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical or not.

Eidolon answered it anyway. "Because we didn't know how. Because nobody asked the right question at the right time. And because nobody thought of working with villains."

Amy couldn't help herself. Abruptly, she flung her arms around Eidolon and hugged him tightly. There was hidden armour there, but she didn't care. He tensed for a moment, then gingerly patted her on the back. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice muffled against his cloak. "I just … we're gonna do so much good, aren't we?"

This time, his back-patting was less awkward. Then he ruffled her hair and chuckled warmly. "That's certainly the idea, yes."

<><>​

Glory Girl

Dallon Household

" … so then, there she is, standing next to the wreckage of the piano …" Vicky paused to watch the reaction of her audience.

"That's just fallen on Jack Slash," Crystal filled in, then shook her head. "I am so jealous I didn't get to see that."

Vicky grinned. "It was all kinds of amazing, yeah. When the piano hit, Jack Slash's knife bounced off her shoulder and ended up in her hand like she'd rehearsed it. Then she bowed. And then, all these butterflies came out of nowhere and landed on her. I mean, fuck, I got the shivers, right then."

"Iiii ssseeennnssse a giiiirrrlll cruuussshhh," Eric teased her in a sing-song voice.

She gave him a dirty look. "It wasn't like that," she snapped. "I mean, I try to do the whole image thing so people won't mess with me, but she just pulled it off perfectly. Anyone watching one of those videos is gonna say 'fuck that' and run the other direction."

"Well, anyone with any sense," Crystal corrected her. "But you have to admit, there's a lot of capes out there who see a challenge and leap feet-first into it."

"A lot fewer in Brockton Bay, now," Vicky pointed out. "She took out the big hitters in the Empire by letting herself be kidnapped by them. I heard a rumour that Coil turned himself in to the PRT because of those anvils outside the Forsberg Gallery. Oni Lee got blown up and Lung got tarred and feathered. The Undersiders are now literally her best friends. The Merchants got themselves killed off by that other guy. The rest of the Empire helped take out the Nine, and are now asking if they can be heroes, pretty please. And Uber and L33t apparently trapped the Siberian in a Ghostbusters ghost trap, but nobody knows what the fuck's going on there." She paused for breath, and to savour the look of utter bogglement on the faces of her cousins.

" … well, fuck." Eric's statement was right on point.

"Yeah, I—" Crystal's words were cut off when the front door banged open and Amy came in. Her hair was a little messier than normal, and she had a slightly wild-eyed look about her. "Holy shit, Amy. Are you all right?"

"I'm better than all right." Amy's voice was positively lyrical. "I'm gonna help save the whole fucking world!" Darting over to Vicky, she grabbed her sister and spun her around before planting a firm kiss on her lips. "And I've always wanted to do that, so there." Releasing Vicky, whose brain had just locked up and skidded off the road, she headed toward the kitchen. "Mom? Dad? Anyone home? Wait till you hear what I've been doing!"

"Buh … buh … buh … wha?" Vicky's thoughts were scrabbling for traction, but they kept sliding in all directions. Amy had just kissed her. Amy had just kissed her. Amy had just kissed her. Absolutely nothing about that made any kind of sense.

"Well, fuck." Crystal's expression now held a level of secret glee. "That just happened."

"Iiii ssseeennnssse a giiiirrrlll cruuussshhh … "

Vicky was still incapable of speech, but Crystal stepped up. "Shut up, Eric." Unfortunately, her smirk told Vicky that this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

<><>​

Amy

Tuesday, 18 January 2011

(The Next Day)

Vicky was still giving Amy the side-eye as they came down to breakfast, but Amy said nothing. She wanted her sister to be the one to crack first, because that way she'd be able to control what she said. She was already regretting that impulsive kiss, just a little, but not so much that she wished she hadn't done it. Done was done, and now Vicky knew how she felt.

From the attitudes of Carol and Mark, neither one knew of the kiss. Carol seemed a little wary around her, but that was probably due to the fact that she'd significantly participated in the capture of Bonesaw and the death of Jack Slash. The PRT had already called her up and asked where she wanted her share of the reward money to be banked. She knew her parents weren't reacting to the Eidolon situation, because she hadn't been stupid enough to give them chapter and verse on that one. 'Helping Eidolon work out a way to feed lots of people at once' seemed suitably benign. There was no way in hell she was going to let Carol know she was working with Blasto and (sort of) Accord.

"Morning, Amy girl," Mark greeted her. He seemed to be tracking well, so she figured he'd taken his meds today. "So, do you know this Butterfly at all, or did she just happen to be there at the same time that you were?" He turned the paper he was holding, to show her the picture on the front page; a blown-up image of Taylor straightening from the bow, with butterflies all over her.

"Actually, I've never met her before yesterday," Amy said truthfully. "She seemed nice, though. And if Tattletale was right, her power set the whole thing up. Including making sure that me and Vicky were in the right place at the right time."

"That power is fucking bullshit," muttered Vicky, reaching across to grab the cereal.

"Language," Carol said automatically. "Isn't that a little far-fetched? I mean, to arrange matters that finely?" She paused. "Wait, Tattletale? Isn't she a villain?"

Amy snickered. "Not any more, thanks to Butterfly. When I got home last night, I looked online. That piano that fell on Jack Slash? It was shipped in to the gallery days ago. She swears blind that nothing that happens around Butterfly is a coincidence. Nothing." Her grin widened to a smirk as she pretended to brush something off of her sleeve. "Isn't that right, Vicky?"

The spoon in Vicky's hand bent with a quiet creaking of overstressed metal. "Not. Fucking. Fair."

"Victoria Dallon!" Carol's brows pulled together. "If you can't refrain from using that sort of language, or using super-strength at the table, you are grounded."

"It's her fault, Mom!" Vicky pointed at Amy. "She started it!"

"How did she start it, Vicky?" asked Mark. He looked at Amy. "What's she talking about?"

Amy looked at Vicky, but her sister shut her mouth and stared down at the table. Well, if you want to play it that way … She cleared her throat. "Well, you know how she got paint in her hair? There was a guy there that she was kind of showing off for. Turns out that he's one of the Undersiders, who've basically attached themselves to Butterfly since she wrapped up Lung for the PRT. And Vicky was kind of interested in him. And when she went to ask him out yesterday, a bird crapped on her shoulder. Which is Butterfly's way of saying 'back off unless you want something worse to happen to you'."

There was silence at the table, except for a faint sound that Amy eventually identified as Vicky grinding her teeth together. "Wait," said Mark slowly. "If Vicky hadn't got paint in her hair, yesterday would've gone a lot differently, because Jack Slash would've recognised her."

"Uh huh," Amy confirmed. "I bet if someone started looking, they'd find a whole lot of coincidences coming together to make this all happen." She looked across at Vicky with a certain amount of compassion. "I'm not sure how to say this, Vicky, but everything that happened was because Butterfly made sure it would. Including your hair and your shoulder."

"Everything?" Vicky raised her head and looked directly at Amy. "What about what happened when you came in last night? Was that something that Butterfly made happen?"

Amy couldn't meet her eyes. "Maybe? I'd just been helping Eidolon figure out how to save the world, so I was kind of on a high right then."

Mark looked at them curiously. "What happened when you came in last night, Amy?"

"Never mind that," Carol interrupted, her tone brisk. "Are you saying that Eidolon's efforts to save the world were put in motion by Butterfly? Because I have trouble believing that."

"I dunno." Amy shrugged. "But he was looking for me, and he did show up right when I needed him to, and Tattletale did say that Butterfly's power never did one thing when it could be doing three."

"But why the hell would Butterfly want you to do that?" Vicky looked unhappy. "It's not like she even knows us."

"I don't think it matters," Amy said. "Tattletale said something about her power having a mind of its own. She seemed very amused about it."

"Well, I'm not," Vicky groused. "I think—"

What she thought was not to be revealed, because at that moment, there was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," Amy said hastily. Getting up from the table, she headed for the door. Opening it revealed Eidolon standing on the doorstep.

"Good morning, Panacea," he said politely. "Are you ready to go?"

"Uh, no. Can you wait a few minutes?" she asked. "Oh, and come in." Stepping aside from the door, she ushered him inside. "I've just got to finish breakfast and get dressed."

"Certainly," he said, and followed her into the dining room. "Good morning, Brandish, Flashbang, Glory Girl," he greeted her family. "Don't bother getting up."

"Eidolon!" It secretly amused Amy that the ever-controlled Carol was more than a little flustered by a Triumvirate member showing up on the doorstep unannounced. "Uh, sit down, please. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"I'm fine, thanks," he replied. "As soon as Panacea is ready, we'll be going."

"Going where?" asked Mark. "You understand, Amy didn't give us too many details about where she went yesterday."

"That's because I asked her not to." Eidolon's tone was polite, but the unspoken meaning was plain to all. You don't need to know. "There are details about what we're trying to achieve that don't need to be aired at the moment."

Amy was glad Eidolon had put it that way. She had no idea how Carol would react to the revelation that she and Eidolon were working with two supervillains to solve world hunger, but it wouldn't be good. There wasn't anything Carol could actually do to stop them going ahead with it, but she could certainly make it uncomfortable for Amy. God, imagine if we'd actually brought Bonesaw in on it, and she found out. She'd burst a blood vessel.

She finished her cereal and finished her orange juice in one long swallow, then jumped up from the table. "I'll be one minute," she promised. Dashing upstairs, she headed for her room. But as fast as she was, Vicky was faster; her sister caught up with her halfway down the corridor.

"Ames, what's going on?" Amy tried to ignore her sister, but Vicky grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. "Amy, talk to me! You've been acting all weird since you went off with Eidolon. You ..." She half-turned her head and lowered her voice to a fierce whisper. "Kissed me! What the hell was that about?"

Amy took a deep breath and turned to look at her sister. "That was nothing to do with Eidolon and everything to do with you and me," she stated flatly. "Now, if you don't mind, I want to get dressed."

"We're not done here!" insisted Vicky. "I want answers and I want them now."

That declaration was so cliché that Amy couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Fine," she said. "But I am gonna get dressed so if you want to keep talking, we're going into my room. And I'll be changing in front of you." Despite the fact that she was feeling more irritation than attraction to Vicky right then, she managed a passable leer. "Of course, if that's what floats your boat …"

Vicky visibly recoiled, which saddened Amy at the same time as it justified her decision to make that particular comment. "No!" she whispered harshly in a tone that was possibly more audible than normal speech. "I don't feel that way about you! And you shouldn't feel that way about me, either!"

"Don't care. I feel that way anyway." Amy made the half-truth sound light-hearted. It was a fact that she couldn't help how she felt. It was also a fact that she cared about Vicky's opinion of her. However, after finding out the utterly world-changing scope of the project she was embarking on with Eidolon, she'd decided that hiding her feelings had done her no good. It was time to declare herself, loud and proud. Of course, now she was coming down off that high a little, she was wondering if she could maybe have been a little quieter and more humble, but done was done. And if Vicky was ever to accept the way Amy felt, first she had to know about it. I'm adopted, and we're both sixteen, so it's not even illegal.

Unimpeded by Vicky this time, she turned to go into her room. Vicky didn't follow, which she'd both expected to happen and hoped that it wouldn't. A dozen night-time fantasies went down the drain as she closed her bedroom door.

<><>​

Legend

Protectorate Base, New York

Legend covered his eyes with one hand, then took it away and looked again. The results hadn't changed. At the far end of the firing range, the animatronic target representing an enemy cape was utterly unmarked. "This was supposed to be a routine target practice," he said to the assembled Wards. "How is it that none of you managed to hit the perp?"

They immediately broke into a series of excuses, talking over each other. "Whoa, whoa," he interjected, holding up both hands. "One at a time. Flechette?"

The dark-haired girl scowled. "I should've hit it. I never miss, normally. But my hair blew across my eyes."

Legend looked sceptically at her hair, which was currently bound back. "Blew across your eyes?"

"I tied it back," she insisted. "But it got loose, just at the wrong moment."

"Understood," he said, while noting that there should've been no air movement to blow the hair in the first place. "Jouster?"

One by one, the other Wards gave their excuses for missing what should've been a gimme target. At the end of it, Legend wasn't sure if they were all trying to prank him, or if every single Ward under his care had come down with a case of pure bad luck. That phrase nudged something in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. The situation at hand needed to be dealt with first.

"All right, I've heard enough." He cleared his throat. "I'm going to arrange for a live-fire exercise. Each of you is going to bring your A-game. Real targets that you're really allowed to destroy. We'll be looking at max damage and max range from each of you. Clear?"

Whoops of excitement arose, which pleased him. Wards worked better with good morale. He liked them all; they were good kids. If they could be shown with the live-fire exercise that they really could hit the targets they were aiming at, they wouldn't be second-guessing themselves at the wrong moment in the field.

He hoped.

<><>​

Uber

fzt

"Ow!"

Uber looked up from perusing the online catalogue. He put down the pen he'd been using to note down the gaming equipment he was going to purchase once the reward money from the PRT came in—their apology note had been rather gracious, he had to admit—and looked over toward L33t's workshop with a frown.

"What are you up to now?" he called out, feeling mildly irritated. "I thought you were going to give Tinkering a rest for a little while, now that your good luck's all run out."

"I was going to," L33t protested. He leaned out through the doorway, shaking one hand vigorously. Uber knew the signs. Something he'd been working on had bitten him. "But then I got the idea to maybe cannibalise one luck storage pack to fix the other."

Uber stood up from the desk. "What part of 'you can't fix stuff any more' don't you understand? Bro, we're richer than our wildest dreams, here. We've even got a shot at going hero. Shit, the PRT's giving the Empire a chance to prove themselves. We don't have to do that stuff anymore." He didn't say what he was really thinking; it would be the height of irony for a Tinkering accident to kill off his best buddy just as they made it into the big time.

"No, you don't get it!" L33t looked more excited than he had since the packs had burned out. "It shocked me, so there's still charge in it, which means the circuitry isn't totally dead!"

"Well, okay, yeah, but it also means it can shock you," Uber pointed out as rationally as he could. "This is not a good thing."

"I'll be more careful," L33t promised. "But what if the luck storage coils weren't burned out? What if they've still got all that luck in them?"

Uber rolled his eyes. "Didn't you hear Tattletale? We only got to use the luck energy because her power felt like giving us something to do, instead of doing everything itself."

"Maybe there's still something we've got to do with it," L33t insisted. "If her power wanted those packs dead, they'd be dead, yeah?"

On the one hand, L33t had a point. On the other, Uber felt extremely dubious about trying to second-guess a power so capricious and powerful that it had tarred and feathered a cape who'd gone up against Leviathan. "... well, okay," he said eventually. "Just … try not to get us both killed, okay? I'd like to survive to spend my share of the reward money."

"Yeah, yeah, good point." L33t went back into his workshop. Moments later, Uber heard a zzzzzt followed by "Whaaarrrgh!"

This time, he broke into a run.

<><>​

Amy

"You and your sister seemed to be ill at ease with each other."

Amy looked around at Eidolon as they rose into the air above Brockton Bay. "I'm not sure if I want to talk about it."

"That's fair." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I was just thinking, if there was anything you needed to talk about, I'm ready to listen."

This was not the Eidolon that Amy was used to. He was still intense, but in a different way. She'd never ever heard of him offering to help someone else with a personal problem before. "Um … I don't even know how to talk about it."

"Is it about what we're doing?" he asked reasonably. "I can understand if she's been pressing you for details you're unable to give her."

"No, actually," she replied honestly. "She's kind of impressed that I'm working with you, but I just told everyone that it involves feeding the hungry and saving the world in a vague sort of way, and they're all fine with that. It's something else. Something I did."

"That's fine," he assured her. "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. Teleporting now."

She braced herself; there was a green flash and an instant later they were over Boston. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"I was a little sad when I realised that I was used to it," Eidolon confessed. "I went from 'Whoo! Look what I can do!' to 'Yeah, still doing this'. I mean, it's a huge responsibility to use all this power I have, but I wish I could still marvel at it."

Amy laughed without meaning to. "Wow, yeah. I know exactly how that feels. I wonder how many capes go through that and get depressed from it." She took a deep breath. "Uh, can I ask you something? About relationships?"

He turned to stare at her, or at least his helmet swivelled in her direction. "Go ahead, but I'm not exactly an expert."

Which didn't surprise Amy, but she ploughed ahead anyway. "So there's this person I'm really interested in, but, uh … is it better to let them know how you feel, or just hold off and hope it turns out okay?" She was pretty sure she knew where she'd fucked up, but it would be good to get an adult's perspective on the matter.

"Hmm." From the tone of Eidolon's voice, he hadn't actually considered this question much before. "That's a tough one. I think … on balance, it's better to let them know. If they don't feel the same way about you, you find out. But if they do, and you don't tell them, they might think you don't care and find someone else."

Amy nodded. "Right, thanks. That's what I wanted to know." If Eidolon was right—and he sounded right—it just meant that she and Vicky were never going to be a couple. Finding out now was a better situation than pining for her sister and never letting go. That could've ended badly.

"No, thank you." Eidolon's voice was positively enlightened. "I'd been wondering about that topic myself, without actually asking the question you did. It helps a lot, now that I've thought about it."

"Oh. Good." Now that was a weird mental image. Amy had never thought of Eidolon actually having someone in his life like that. It would be like seeing Scion going on a date.

"Teleporting."

Amy braced herself; an instant later, they were in Blasto's lab. The man himself was leaning over a complicated apparatus, still apparently wearing the same lab coat from yesterday. Amy was almost certain she saw a couple of the stains moving. The gorilla-dog creature barked a couple of times, then shut up.

"Ah, you're back," Blasto said, turning to them. "I didn't expect you till later."

"Does that mean you don't have anything for us?" Eidolon didn't raise his voice, but he still managed to sound more than a little ominous.

"Oh, no, no." Blasto held up both hands. "I was just hoping I'd be more advanced with the hardiness of the plant before you showed up. I mean, I've got the fruit pretty well done. But the plant it's gonna be attached to is being a pain."

"How do you mean?" asked Eidolon. "Maybe Panacea can help improve it."

"I mean that adjusting the genome so it can handle the range of temperatures that you want it to is gonna be a total cast-iron bitch," Blasto said flatly. "Plants use various mechanisms to handle the temperature range that they're used to. It's hard to expand that range. The coping mechanisms are gonna get in each others' way." Turning back to the apparatus on the bench, he opened a hatch and pulled out a stunted-looking plant, its roots dripping with some kind of liquid solution. "Here, see for yourself."

Amy reached out and took the small plant, letting the biological information wash through her mind. "Yeah, I see what you mean," she said. "I can't see the genetics, but I can tell how it would react to hot and cold temperatures." She grimaced as she handed it back. "I don't think I can fix that."

"Are you certain?" Eidolon didn't sound at all happy.

"Well, there is something we could do." Amy raised her eyebrow at the veteran hero.

"We're not bringing Bonesaw into this!" snapped Eidolon.

"Bonesaw?" yelped Blasto. "Screw that."

Amy smirked, having gotten the reaction she was after. "Pfft, no," she told them. Gotcha. "I have a totally different solution. It might mean more work, that's all."

"More work is no problem." Eidolon was very firm about that.

"What he said." Blasto didn't look as though he could believe he was agreeing with Eidolon on anything.

"All right then." Amy let her smirk relax into a grin. "All we have to do is …"

<><>​

Saint

A Deserted Town in Upstate New York

"Where did you say it was?" Geoff turned the wheel to avoid a pothole that would've wrecked the front suspension of the Jeep.

"Just up ahead a little." Mags consulted the tablet she was carrying. "The records were a little hard to unravel, but there was electricity running into this one building for months after everything else was shut down. And Dragon's program pinged deliveries being made of electronics and optical crystals. So, Tinker stuff. Which is why I thought you'd be interested."

She didn't have to say any more. Geoff was good at retro-engineering Tinkertech to suit his own needs. He grinned broadly as he picked his way down the street. If they could find the tech to upgrade their suits even more, Dragon would be caught even more off guard the next time they found it necessary to sequester one of her suits.

"Okay, stop right here." Mags held up her hand, and Geoff pulled the Jeep to a halt. Behind them, the flatbed truck driven by Mischa also rumbled to a stop. She pointed to the left. "That's the address there."

"Wait a minute." Geoff had an idea. "Cross-reference this area with arrests of criminal Tinkers from around two years ago. When the deliveries stopped."

"Okay, sure." Mags shrugged and complied. "Dunno why I didn't think of that myself."

That's why I'm the brains of the operation, darlin'. Geoff got out of the Jeep and stretched, feeling the vertebrae crack in his back. Moments later, Mischa joined him. The burly Russian carried a heavy pry-bar in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other, somehow making both items look like childrens' toys.

"Hah, got it!" Mags grinned at the two men. "String Theory was arrested in the next town over, two years ago. They tried and Birdcaged her without ever making the connection to this town."

"String Theory?" Geoff's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "Now she's a powerful Tinker."

"Maybe too powerful, Geoff." Mischa sounded a little concerned. "Perhaps we should not be meddling with things we do not need to."

"Pfft, hah." Geoff rolled his eyes. "The more, the merrier. Let's see what goodies she's left in her workshop for us." He led the way toward the building in question, which appeared to be a shuttered convenience store. After a moment of hesitation, the other two followed.

The front door posed no barrier once Mischa applied the sledgehammer correctly, and Geoff squinted into the interior. It was dark, obviously, so he went back to the Jeep for the heavy-duty flashlight.

Inside, after some searching, they found a stairwell going down. At the bottom was a heavy door, securely locked. Fortunately, the foundations had settled—sometime recently, it seemed—and Mischa was able to get the pry-bar in behind the door and apply some pressure to the lock. It took some effort, but eventually the men were able to get the door open while Mags sat on the stairs and aimed the flashlight.

Sweaty, hungry and thirsty, Geoff was the first to step through into the room beyond. As the flashlight swept over what lay before him, he stopped. "Holy … shit."

Mags followed him in, then stopped in her turn. "Geoff … is that …?"

"Da." Mischa loomed into the room behind the pair of them. "That is the biggest goddamned gun I have ever seen."

He wasn't wrong. It was hard to get a sense of scale with just the flashlight, but it looked at least thirty feet long, almost filling the basement area. Gigantic leads were plugged into it, running into complicated-looking generators emplaced along the walls.

"What is that?" asked Mischa. He pointed at where the flashlight had just shone its beam. Geoff swung the light back, to show bold lettering on the side of the device. "'F-DRIVER'. What does that mean?"

"No idea," said Geoff. He put out his hand, incautiously leaning against the wall himself. A switch clicked under his hand. One by one, the lights came up. Along the barrel of the monster gun, LEDs sprang to life. Throughout the room, a rising hum could be heard. Directly before them, a panel lit up with scrolling letters.

"'Charging'?" asked Mags. "What does that mean, 'charging'?"

Geoff and Mischa spoke at the same time. "Nothing good."

<><>​

Low Earth Orbit

Far above the surface of the Earth, the Simurgh began to giggle helplessly.



End of Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

 

[MadGreenSon]

"'F-DRIVER'.

Click to shrink...

Holy shit. Butterfly is about to pull off her magnum opus.

 

[Starfox5]

A live-fire exercise where Flechette is told to use her maximum range? And there's a weapon charging built by the mad tinker who tried to blow up the moon? That looks like some Entity's day is about to get really bad.

 

[edale]

Far above the surface of the Earth, the Simurgh began to giggle helplessly.

Click to shrink...

Hmmm

Yea... That about covers it.

 

[Chojomeka]

Oh Ziz~
[Laugh track]

 

[pepperjack]

Oh Ziz~
[Laugh track]

Click to shrink...

Tune in next time for more wacky antics on another episode of your favorite sitcom, Leave it to Simurgh!

 

[Chojomeka]

Tune in next time for more wacky antics on another episode of your favorite sitcom, Leave it to Simurgh!

Click to shrink...

With this as the ending theme

 

[Ack]

It Gets Worse

Part Nineteen: Negligent Deicide

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Tuesday, 18 January 2011
11:50 AM
Uber

When Uber dashed into L33t's workshop, his partner was lying flat on the floor. "Bro!" he shouted. The smell of burnt insulation irritated his nose as he leaned over L33t. "Are you all right?"

L33t's eyes opened wide and he stared back at Uber. "Gah!" he blurted. Uber's relief at his buddy being alive was overshadowed by the realisation that L33t's eyes were glowing purple again. More than that, as L33t brought his hands up, Uber couldn't help but notice the lines of purple energy that were crawling over his fingers as well. Abruptly, the Tinker sat up, forcing Uber to take a step back. "Fuck me, that was a rush!"

"Yeah, but are you all right?" insisted Uber. "You just got zapped by that luck pack." He pointed at L33t's hands. "You're glowing again. Was that the good luck or the bad luck?"

Slowly, carefully, L33t climbed to his feet. "Both," he mumbled. "I was transconnecting them to try to cancel out the load so I could safely work on them." He examined his hands, turning them one way and then the other as the thin purple lines slowly crawled over his skin. "Well, that's new."

"So do you feel lucky or unlucky?" asked Uber practically. "If you build something, is it gonna be awesome or is it gonna make a crater?"

"Hmm." L33t grimaced. "Shit. That's definitely something I need to worry about now, isn't it? Lucky killed the Nine. What'll unlucky do?"

"I don't know, but I really, really don't want to find out." Uber frowned in thought. "Wait a minute. Say something dramatic."

"What?" L33t looked at him as though he were insane.

"Say something dramatic," Uber reiterated patiently. "If you're still lucky, it'll sound cool. But if you're unlucky, it'll probably only make you look stupid."

"Yeah, like that's never happened before," muttered L33t. He took a deep breath, then clenched his fist and raised it toward the ceiling. "I'm gonna make something AWESOME!" he yelled.

kkk-KKK-KRAK-KKK-BOOOOOM-MMM-mmm-mmm

Uber blinked. He was pretty sure the sky had been clear. "One second," he said, and he pulled out his phone. It only took him a moment to find out that there was no rain in the offing. "What the hell …?" he murmured. Then he looked up from the phone to see that L33t was already back at the workbench, feverishly sorting through components.

"Uh, are you rebuilding the luck guns?" he asked hopefully. The luck guns weren't something that he really understood, but for a brief shining hour they'd lifted him and L33t out of the rut of being the idiot villains of Brockton Bay.

"Nope!" L33t's reply was manic. "Wouldn't work anyway! I'm gonna make something better! Two somethings! 'Cause I can still do that!" He began to assemble the parts he'd grabbed, his fingers almost blurring. Uber watched, fascinated, as the purple energy played over the device that was coming together. "This was a triumph!" L33t cackled.

"Oh, shit," muttered Uber. "Here we go again." He had no idea what L33t was building now, or what they were going to do with it, but he had a sneaking suspicion it would be both terrifying and exhilarating … and he didn't intend to miss a goddamn moment of it.

<><>​

Winslow High Cafeteria
Taylor

I looked up at the ceiling and frowned. "Was that thunder?" I asked. "Because I'm sure the sky was clear, earlier." Turning my head, I peered out the window. "It's still clear."

"Wasn't thunder," Lisa said cheerfully. She leaned back in her seat and grinned like the Cheshire cat. "It was a signal."

"Signal?" I asked in confusion. "Who to? Me?" I shook my head. "And I'm still not sure why you're here with me." I looked pointedly at her, then over at Brian who was working his way through the line. Alec sat off at the side of the cafeteria, looking altogether too cheerful for someone who didn't have to be there. "I mean, isn't high school kind of beneath you, and all?"

"The signal's not for you," Lisa assured me. "It's your power at work. Stuff's going down, big stuff." She smiled beatifically. "We don't have to worry about it. Anyway, we're just here to have fun with our bestie, today. Coil told me to stick with you so I'm sticking with you. Rachel doesn't like crowds, so she's caring for her dogs. Brian heard there's still some Empire morons in the school, though, and he feels like kicking heads. And with Alec, it's generally just a good idea to stand back and award points for style."

"O … kay," I said uncertainly. "Am I ever going to find out what that was about?" Even as I asked the question, I wondered if I really wanted to know.

"Sorry." Lisa shrugged. "I'm good, but I don't do miracles." Something about her grin told me that even if she knew, she wasn't about to tell me.

"Sure," I said. "Okay." It was kind of weird to have Lisa treat me with absolute deference some of the time, then cheerfully ignore my most pointed hints at others. While I was pretty sure she was carefully ensuring my well-being and happiness, sometimes it got a little irritating. Though not irritating enough, it seemed, for my power to do anything about it.

"Oh, hey," Lisa said, sitting up once more. "The main event approaches."

"Main event?" I asked. "What?" Turning my head, I saw immediately what she was talking about. Emma. God damn it. Just when I was having a good day, too. I began to regret letting Lisa talk me into eating at the cafeteria for once. While I had no doubt that Brian and Alec could remove Emma and her coterie from my presence with ease, it would also get me more unwelcome attention.

"Relax," murmured Lisa. "I've got this." Her grin grew wider until it was positively carnivorous. Pulling her phone out, she began to play with it.

Emma stomped her way up to us with Madison flanking her. She didn't look at all thrilled to see me, which wasn't surprising. The last time I'd seen her was upside down next to a toilet, and I'd been laughing too hard to see straight.

"Taylor," she said sharply. "I'm surprised you've got the nerve to come back here." She let her gaze rest dismissively on Lisa, who was chuckling at something on her phone. "Who's this? Someone you paid to sit next to you so you can pretend not to be such a total loser?"

"Nope." Lisa came to her feet in one lithe move, stepping into Emma's personal space and even managing to loom over her slightly. I'd wondered why she'd worn thick-soled shoes today. "I'm her best friend now. One of them, anyway. You're Emma, aren't you? I thought you looked familiar. This is you, isn't it?" She showed Emma her phone.

Being a redhead, Emma had naturally pale skin, but at the sight of the photo she went red with anger. I could even guess which one it was. "Fuck off!" she shouted, swinging her hand to knock the phone away. "This is between me and Taylor! Get the fuck away from me with that!"

Lisa pulled her hand back just in time for Emma's attempt to miss. "Oh, you don't want to see pictures of yourself? Huh. I thought there was no such thing as bad publicity, even for a model. I thought maybe you could sell toilets with this one." She shrugged. "Fine. Want to see some pictures of Taylor? In fact, I've got some footage." Her smile went all the way past vulpine to lupine; from sneaky to savage. "Have a look."

The footage must have been cued up, ready to go. Emma's eyes were drawn to the tiny screen as the imagery played out. I could hear the tiny voices—heard my voice, in fact.

"No, you won't. I'm the only reason Glory Girl isn't taking your head off your shoulders right now. She's right, you know. You have lost. You lost the moment you entered the city. And you really lost the moment you threatened my life."

Emma blinked and stared, and I realised that through some sheer fluke of chance, she hadn't actually seen this footage yet. She and Madison watched the drama play out, fascinated despite themselves. The voices became indistinct, until Uber and L33t showed up. "Halt, evildoer!" That was Uber. "The Siberian has been trapped and your comrades vanquished! Release your hostage and surrender, or face our wrath!" Emma's eyes opened a little wider at that, for which I didn't blame her. Uber's speech had been too cheesy for words. Still, what followed a few moments later made her jaw drop, as well as Madison's. The shattering crash, made tinny by the phone speakers, was perfectly audible.

Lisa let it run a few more seconds, probably to the point where I was straightening up with the knife in my hand and the butterflies all over me, then stopped it. "In case you're wondering, yes, that was indeed Jack Slash." Her voice was innocently cheerful, but her eyes held the glint of a predator on the hunt. "That happened yesterday. Taylor is getting the bounty for his death. Yes, Emma, this does mean that she and her father are now quite a bit richer than your father, by a factor of about a hundred or so. Yes, this also means that you and Madison are in deep shit, especially when the court hears about how you violated the temporary restraining order they placed on you while they decide how to handle the allegations against you." She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "In other words, fuck off and don't ever come back."

It was amazing. I couldn't even begin to describe how it felt to have someone else say that to Emma in such a blunt, uncompromising tone. Right then, I resolved to get Lisa the biggest box of chocolates I could find.

"You can't tell me—" began Emma hotly.

"Yeah, she can." That was Brian, right behind them, carrying a tray with all our food on it. "And so can I." Despite the fact that the tray wasn't that heavy, he flexed his arms. Muscles bunched and moved in a very impressive display of brawn. Also, one of the several reasons I liked having him around. "Fuck. Off." His expression was nothing less than forbidding—all aimed at them.

Madison turned and eeped, which wasn't much of a surprise given that Brian was somewhere north of six feet, whereas Madison was about five foot nothing and would've made up about one-quarter his weight. She wilted under his glare and began to slink away off to the side.

Emma was made of sterner stuff, or maybe she was just more stubbornly idiotic. She gave Brian a defiant look, then snatched a plastic bowl of something wobbly from the tray and went to throw it at me. However, halfway through the motion, her hand blatantly changed direction, causing the bowl to fly a short distance upward and an even shorter distance downward. Emma, looking up at its brief flight, received the entire contents in her face; half of which then slid down on to her extremely expensive-looking blouse.

"Fuuck!" she burbled through the wobbly face-coating. I wasn't sure if it was grey custard or yellowish tapioca. As Lisa and I watched with both bemusement and amusement, she stumbled away from us, clawing at her face. All over the cafeteria, phones were being produced as if by magic.

Certain that the mishap had been anything but an accident, I glanced over at where Alec sat. He grinned and gave me a little fingertip-wave back. I decided that he'd get something nice too. Maybe a gaming arcade all of his own. "So who ordered the tapioca, or custard, or whatever it was?" I asked as I turned back to Lisa and Brian. "I know I didn't."

Brian shrugged. "Search me. It ended up on the tray somehow, but I didn't order it and they didn't charge me for it."

"Gee, I wonder how that could've happened." Lisa gave me a smirk that told me she knew exactly what had happened.

I smirked right back. "Damn right." My powers were awesome.

Life was definitely looking up.

<><>​

Amy

"Wow, that was loud." Amy looked up at the sky. "What was that? It sounded like thunder, but there isn't a cloud in the sky."

"It wasn't thunder," Eidolon explained as they began to swoop down toward Arcadia. "It was Alexandria breaking the sound barrier. We got a report from Dragon that the Simurgh was acting oddly and glancing toward this region, so Alexandria's been scouting the area to see if anything's amiss." He tapped the side of his helmet to show how he knew this. "Nothing so far," he added in response to her unasked question. "She's probably just messing with us."

"Huh." Amy shrugged. "Hope that's all it is." She and Blasto had been collaborating on the food plant all morning, and now she was hungry. Lunch time beckoned.

"With any luck, yes," Eidolon agreed. "But your idea worked out perfectly. I'm not sure why we didn't think of regional variations for the plant."

"I suppose it all depends on what assumptions you're starting from." Amy leaned against the side of the force-field bubble. "If you're assuming you're working with just one version, it's hard to think outside that box."

"I suppose so." Eidolon grounded the bubble and opened it for her. "I'll be in contact when I need more feedback for my project. You've got a knack for making connections that I can't."

"Uh, sure." She waved goodbye as she stepped down on to the ground. "I hope it all goes well."

"To be honest, me too." Eidolon returned the wave and dissolved the bubble. Flying under his own power, he started upward again.

Amy watched him go, hugging herself with happiness. Eidolon wants me to work with him!

The inner glow lasted all afternoon.

<><>​

New York Protectorate Firing Range
3:30 PM
Legend

"All right then!" Legend paced across the deck of the barge before the assembled Wards. "This will be a live fire exercise. There is nothing behind your target except a lot of ocean." He pointed at the far end of the barge, which was a hundred feet away from them. Dotted on the deck from the fifty foot mark all the way to the far rail were silhouette targets. Some of these were easy to recognise as famous (or infamous) villains, while others were extremely generic. "So we don't mind if you miss. Just don't miss downward. Anyone who sinks the barge gets to swim back to shore." He gave them a brief smile to indicate that he was joking. Mostly. "Is there anyone who doesn't understand anything I've just said?"

Nobody said a word or moved a hand upward. Legend sighed; this could mean that everyone understood, or that everyone was waiting on someone else to say something. "Flechette," he said, just because she was standing at the front. "Did you understand everything I said?"

"We've got plenty of room and I'm not to miss downward?" Flechette asked.

"Yes, exactly." Legend smiled at her. "Did you want to go first?" He gestured at a collection of rods, dowels and other objects he'd made sure to stock the barge with. "All yours."

"Um, sure." She didn't step forward immediately; instead, she pulled her hair back more securely and put a second tie on it. "Just in case."

"Very wise," he murmured. "In your own time." Stepping back out of the way, he rose into the air so as to better gauge her shot. Flechette was almost always dead on target, no matter the extraneous conditions, so this would normally have been a formality. However, both she and he were determined to erase the embarrassing episode of that morning, once and for all.

He watched as she picked up a piece of wood, six inches square and four feet long. It wasn't light, but she was able to lift it with some effort. Then she applied her power to it, and almost immediately it became much easier for her to lift. Stepping out in front of the assembled Wards, she lined up with her improvised missile. Legend could tell that she was aiming to take out two targets with the same shot. "Permission to shoot!" she called out.

"Granted!" he replied.

She heaved, and the bulky piece of wood shot straight down the deck in a perfectly flat trajectory. It neither slowed nor dipped as it approached the first target. Hitting at 'chest' level, it punched a six-inch square out of it.

For a split second, Legend thought he saw the distant faded green of vegetation rather than the grey of the deck through the hole, but his eyes were already moving on to the next target, expecting that one to also have a large square hole in it. To his confusion no such thing had happened, and when he moved his eyes back, the view through the hole was normal. In fact, all the targets after the first one were untouched, and the projectile was nowhere to be seen. "Huh?"

Flechette's face slowly creased in a frown. "Wait a minute. What just happened to the piece of wood that I just threw?"

"That's what I was wondering." Legend drifted down next to the farther target and examined it closely. Not even a nick had been taken out of it. "Where were you standing?" he asked.

"Right here," she said, pointing at her feet. "I haven't moved."

"Hm. Stay right there." Legend created a low-powered beam that touched the centre of the target he was next to, then made a ruler-straight line toward the target that she'd perforated. Continuing on, the beam ended up lightly resting on her right shoulder. "Okay, you can't bend your shots, right?"

"No." Her tone was uncompromising. "My shots don't even bend for things like gravity or wind speed. And it shouldn't have vanished halfway there." She stared at the targets again. "What the hell happened to the thing I threw?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. Try again and I'll keep my eyes on it all the way this time."

"Sure, okay." She picked up a length of broom-handle and treated it with her power. "Permission to shoot?"

He moved well off to the side. As hard as he was to hurt, her power was one of the few that could theoretically kill him. "Granted."

She hurled the broomstick. It went straight through the first hole, then made a neat circle in the next target, after which it sped out over the ocean until her power wore off. There was a distant splash. Legend looked down at Flechette, who was staring up at him. She spread her hands. "So what the hell happened to the big one?"

Legend frowned. "I'm not entirely sure. Wait here." Rising into the air, he scanned the area closely for any sign of a floating piece of wood. He only found one, and it wasn't the one he was looking for.

Where did it go?

<><>​

Under a Deserted Town in Upstate New York
Saint

"We've got to power it down!" shouted Geoff. "Everyone, look for an emergency shutoff!" He reasoned that every Tinker put a kill-switch on their doomsday devices. Even String Theory. He hoped. "We're thirty feet underground! If this thing goes off, it'll dig a trench from here to Boston and advertise our presence to everyone!"

"Maybe not dig a trench," Mags said. "Now that I think about it, there was a water tower directly behind the store. Maybe she's using it as a beam guide?"

"Which lights a giant fucking beacon to guide everyone, including Dragon, in to see what's going on!" Geoff retorted. "We've got to shut this thing down now!"

"Do not let knickers get caught in knot, Geoff," Mischa advised him. "Also, do not yell at Mags. She is trying to help." He pointed at a large square box attached to the wall. "What is in there?"

"Flashlight," Mags said, grabbing the pry bar from Mischa. Heading to the box, she wedged the bar in behind the hasp and heaved. There was a loud snap as the metal gave way. As Geoff pointed the flashlight, she pulled the box front open. "Bingo."

"Let me see." Geoff stepped in close, shining the flashlight over what she'd found. Mounted on a panel was a red button, beside a large switch with several positions. OFF was to the extreme left. The switch was pointed at LOW. Then there were MEDIUM, HIGH and FUCK YOU. "Okay, does anyone think this should be switched to anything but 'off'?"

"Well, duh." Mags rolled her eyes.

"Great." Geoff reached in toward the switch. Just as his fingers made contact, he inhaled a few more dust particles than normal. A gigantic sneeze racked his body, and he heard a deep click. When his watering eyes opened again, he realised that the humming noise in the room had deepened. The switch was now on MEDIUM.

"Geoff, what did you do?" Mischa's tone was despairing. "It is to turn off, not up!"

"I sneezed, okay? Shit happens." Geoff reached for the switch again. "I'll turn it off now." Just to make sure he wouldn't sneeze a second time, he held his breath while reaching for the switch. His fingers took hold of it and he prepared to flick it over to the left … just as a cockroach that had been lurking up under the top edge of the box dropped on to his hand and scuttled up his sleeve. "Fuck!" he yelped, jerking his hand back. Click.

"Geoff, you idiot!"

"Geoff, nyet!"

Both of them yelled out at the same time. Nobody could get close to the box because he was dancing around, swinging his arm in great arcs. Finally, the cockroach let go and flew out of his sleeve, and he became aware that the humming was deeper again. Not wanting to see what he knew he was going to see, he looked at the box. The switch was now pointing at HIGH. When he looked at the gun, the LEDs indicating charge were dancing up and down in the red range, which didn't look ominous at all.

"Out of the way!" Mags yelled over the rising hum. Dust was sifting down from the ceiling now. "I'm gonna turn the fuckin' thing off!"

"I can do it!" Geoff shouted back. It was just a fucking switch. About the least complicated of all electrical devices in the world. If he could get the better of a complex device like Dragon, he could master a simple switch. "I'm not gonna sneeze, and there's no more cockroaches. I got this." He reached for the switch a third time.

"No!" shouted Mags and grabbed him by the arm.

"Be careful!" Mischa bellowed from the other side, and jostled him as he was trying to push Mags away. His hand hit the switch. Click.

The hum was now a roar. Overhead, the lights had turned to a flashing red. On the gun, all charge meters were showing solid red, and were pulsing. The switch on the panel was, of course, all the way over to FUCK YOU.

"Get out of the fucking way!" screamed Mags, shoving Geoff aside. She reached for the switch and tried to turn it to the left. It resisted. She tried harder, until her fingernails turned white from the pressure, but to no avail. "Fuck! It won't move!"

"Let me try!" Mischa shouted. Mags stepped aside for him, and he grasped the switch in his thick fingers. He was stronger than Mags; all three of them knew that. But try as he might, the switch refused to travel back the other way.

"Press the button!" yelled Geoff, pointing at the other item in the box. "That might unlock it!"

"Or blow us all up!" Mags glared at him. "Can't you just leave fucking well enough alone?"

"Or it might not!" Leaning in, Geoff grabbed the switch and tried to turn it, while he jammed the red button all the way to the panel.

"Geoff!"

"Idiot!"

The pulsing lights up and down the gun flashed faster and faster. In the confined space, the overpressure of the noise beat on their eardrums, forcing them to their knees. The roar rose to a shriek. And then …

… the gun fired.

With a sound like the world's biggest bug-zapper going off, the gun launched a beam of ravening destruction from the far end. At the same time, a blue arc appeared around the end of the muzzle, swallowing the blast altogether. Huh, thought Geoff blankly. That must be how she intended to get the shot out of here. Wonder where it was aimed at.

For long seconds, the gun discharged its immense beam, until just as suddenly as it started, it cut off. The blue-rimmed arc disappeared and the red lights ceased flashing. The hum began to die down.

"Well," Geoff said, feeling his heart rate start to slow down. "That wasn't so ba—"

Abruptly, the red lights flashed again, and the hum rapidly built to its previous level. A speaker crackled to life, pitched to overcome even the ear-splitting roar. Even at this volume, it was impossible to mistake the now-Birdcaged Tinker's voice.

"FUUUCK YOU!"

<><>​

A Few Minutes Before, in Brockton Bay
Uber and L33t's Base
Uber

"Okay," Uber said carefully. "You've made …"

"Portal guns!" L33t replied gleefully. "One each! This one's yours!" He was still a little manic, but the purple energy no longer crawled over his hands or glowed from his eyes.

Cautiously, Uber accepted the bulbous device that L33t handed him. "And you made two of them?"

"Yup! I even made them self-recharging and self-repairing!" L33t took up his own portal gun and pointed it at the far wall. "Okay, time to test these bad boys out."

"Wait." Uber was examining his gun carefully. There was a small switch built into the side that he didn't recall from the game. "What's this do?" It had 'S' next to it.

L33t frowned as he leaned in to stare at it, then did the same with his. "Huh. I have no idea. It just came together that way."

"Whoa." Uber wasn't exactly happy about that. "And you don't know what it does?" Which was a big red flag in his mind.

L33t shrugged. "Safety catch?" He flicked the switch over and pointed it at the wall. Clicking the trigger once didn't do anything, so he clicked it again and held it down while waving it in circles and figure-eights. Letting the trigger off, he shrugged again. "Safety catch."

Uber, who had tensed up everywhere when L33t pulled the trigger the first time, allowed himself to relax. "Holy fuck. Warn me next time."

"Meh. Warnings are for pussies." L33t flicked the switch over and pulled the trigger. Instantly, a blue-rimmed circle appeared directly ahead of him, and an orange-rimmed circle across the room. He jumped through, appearing on the other side of the orange-rimmed circle. "Woo! It works!"

"Well, I'll be damned." Uber flicked his safety catch off, and aimed at an unoccupied section of room. "Self-recharging and self-repairing? We're gonna have fun with these."

<><>​

Somewhere over the Midwest
Zion

The Warrior paused, turning. The third Conflict Generator's odd behaviour had escalated. Now, it was convulsing in a mimicry of human laughter while making an odd single-fingered gesture in his general direction. He felt his Thinker powers kicking into action, attempting to determine if what she was doing was some kind of attack.

An orange-rimmed circle sprang into being just behind him. His inhuman senses detected it, but in the hundredth of a second interval between detection and actually doing something about it, an empowered length of wood emerged from the portal and smashed into the small of his back. The Sting aspect of its empowerment disrupted his projected avatar and it popped like a soap bubble, leaving behind the hole in space that led back to the pocket universe where he kept his main body.

Rapidly, he began to construct another avatar. He was under attack now, and he knew exactly by whom. Or rather, he knew one of the powers involved. The portal had had a Tinker flavour to it, so he would have to cull Tinkers from the world as well. He was only a second or so into the construction of the avatar when another orange-rimmed portal opened up, this time inside the hole in space that led to the 'real' universe.

From this portal blasted a ravening beam of destructive energy that tore into his vulnerable body, carving miles-deep trenches through his sensitive tissues. The first shard to go was the one governing his combat prediction. After that, the beam swung back and forth in infinity-symbol arcs, inexorably shredding his very essence. Random though the beam's progression may have seemed, it might have been directed by a malevolent intelligence that could anticipate his every move. It sought out and destroyed each of the other shards he would have used to defend himself, until his body lay in ruins. With one last contemptuous slash, it ripped asunder the shard he was using to keep the dimensional hole open.

The energy beam cut out and the portal vanished, but the damage was done. He barely had any shards left, and all of those were damaged. His access to the real universe had been destroyed and he was dying, his last few thoughts draining away with his life force.

With that final awareness came an understanding of what the Conflict Generator had been laughing about.

[… FUCK.]

<><>​

Uber

"Safety catch, huh?" mused Uber. He flicked the switch and clicked the trigger. Sure enough, nothing happened. "Well, I'll be damned. It actually works." Flicking it back, he aimed the portal gun at the fridge then pulled the trigger again. Reaching through the portal that popped up, he opened the fridge and took out a beer.

"This," he declared, "is your best invention yet." Popping the cap off the beer, he took a long drink.

"I know, right?"

<><>​

Cauldron Base
Doctor Mother

"... say that again?" Doctor Mother watched her main enforcer carefully, trying to decipher the meaning of her words.

Contessa didn't change her intonation. "I said, five minutes ago, Scion … disappeared. Vanished. He doesn't register on any of my Paths any more."

Doctor Mother reached for the button which would sound the alarm to bring Cauldron to a full war footing. It was too early, far too early. Two years were better than fourteen, but now was too soon! "Do you think he's attacking?"

"No." Contessa spread her hands. "I don't think he's anywhere. I think he … left, maybe? Or he's decided to go into hibernation? All I know is that his particular brand of interference isn't showing up on any Path I run." She frowned. "But that's not the only odd thing that was going on."

This didn't sound good. "What else?" asked Doctor Mother warily. She hated it when Contessa said something was strange.

"Apparently the Simurgh was showing signs of amusement. Actual laughter."

Doctor Mother shook her head at the sheer inconceivability of what Contessa was saying. "The Simurgh isn't human. She only resembles it. She doesn't laugh."

"She was laughing," Contessa maintained. "And giving him the finger."

"And then Scion disappeared." Doctor Mother tried to cling to the only thing that actually made sense. Scion could disappear. He'd shown powers that could do many things. But for the Simurgh to exhibit such human traits as laughter and rude gestures … no.

"Scion is nowhere I can find," Contessa insisted. "Even when I run Paths far into the future, he doesn't interfere with them."

"Keep checking." Doctor Mother eased her hand away from the button. "Let me know if anything changes." She distrusted this in the extreme, but no attack was better than a confirmed attack. "If he shows up anywhere, I want to know."

"Understood." Contessa turned and walked out of the office. Doctor Mother breathed a careful sigh and leaned back in her chair. She had no idea what was going on.

What game is Scion playing now?

A loud "Whaaagh!" interrupted her musings, and she jumped to her feet. That had been Contessa's voice, but she'd never heard the self-possessed younger woman yelp like that. Going to her office door, she looked into the corridor, to find Contessa sprawled underneath none other than the Number Man. Both of them looked extremely confused, not to mention ruffled.

"What the hell happened to you two?" she asked as she watched Contessa get to her feet, rubbing a part of her anatomy that was likely to be bruising soon. Which was, she suspected, possibly the first bruise that Contessa had suffered since she got her powers.

"I was making a sandwich and a portal opened under my feet," the Number Man answered crisply.

"And dumped him on top of me!" snapped Contessa, peeling a slice of buttered bread off her head. She sounded remarkably irritated, another first in Doctor Mother's experience. Contessa didn't get upset. She got even.

"You have to—no, that's not possible!" Doctor Mother shook her head. "Doormaker doesn't really even grasp the concept of a prank!" At least, she hoped so. If the Cauldron cape who provided safe interdimensional travel for all of them was acquiring a sense of humour, things could get very bad, very fast.

"It wasn't him," Contessa said at once. "For one thing, the portal was circular and had an orange rim to it."

"It was blue from my side. Ow," said the Number Man. Patting the floor, he found his glasses and put them back on. "Okay, so who else knows about us and has the brass balls to prank us inside our own base?"

"The number of people who match that description approaches zero," Doctor Mother said flatly.

Contessa climbed to her feet. "And this on top of Scion going missing and the Simurgh acting weird." She grimaced. "I have a potential suspect, but I don't intend to investigate."

That got her stared at. "Kindly explain that," requested Doctor Mother. Contessa rarely said things like that, but she always meant them.

"Yes, please," the Number Man added. "I really want to know what makes you say 'hell, nope'."

Contessa sighed. "You might recall I briefed you both on a new trigger last week? The one that was shifting all my Paths around in a certain area? She's got luck-based powers, and every day that goes by just gives her more variables to play with. Her trigger was two weeks ago, and in that time she's removed every large villain team in her city, via a series of improbable coincidences. Kaiser got punched into the cellar by a ton of blue ice, Lung got tarred and feathered, and so forth. Yesterday, she killed Jack Slash by making a piano fall on him. The day before that, the Siberian was defeated by a pair of joke villains with a Ghostbusters ghost trap. Oh, and Coil is now working for her, as he's apparently terrified of what will happen if he doesn't."

This was news to Doctor Mother. She'd been mildly interested in how Coil was going in his little experiment, but for him to surrender utterly to another parahuman was not what she'd expected.

The Number Man whistled softly. "That's kind of impressive. So you haven't gone in to chat with her why, exactly? She sounds like the perfect recruit."

Contessa shook her head violently. "You're not listening. Her power sees you coming. Jack Slash's death was the culmination of a series of events that started ten days ago. He was dragged there by her power three days ago, whereupon the Nine was systematically dismantled by a series of perfectly normal but impossibly orchestrated events. Every time I try to run a Path to influence her, I get a very simple result. 'Step one: buy chocolates and flowers. Step two: abandon any hope of actually making her do anything that's not in her own self-interest. Step three: be extremely polite.' And when I tried to run a Path just now to find out who did this, I had to terminate it because I was about to be hit in the face by a banana cream pie!" She threw up her hands. "I can't work around her, because her power's already worked around me!"

"Well, fuck," the Number Man said blankly. "What do we do now?"

Contessa looked him straight in the eye. "Stay out of her way. Don't do anything that might upset her. If you ever do encounter her, be very, very polite."

Some days, Doctor Mother decided, it just didn't pay to get out of bed. "What's her name, at least?" she asked.

"I am not tempting fate like that." Contessa shook her head. "The PRT calls her 'Butterfly'. You can find out her real name for yourself. Word of warning: don't mess with her." Leaving Doctor Mother staring, she turned and headed off down the corridor, with the stride of someone who had someplace to be and not much time to get there.

Well, that happened. Doctor Mother turned to look at the Number Man. "Is it just me, or did she seem … scared?"

He snorted. "Her, scared? That's … " He trailed off, his expression sobering.

She finished for him. "Terrifying."

Is this what everyone else feels like, around us?

<><>​

Contessa

Path to calming down.

Step one: go to quarters.

Contessa walked down the corridor and entered her quarters.

Step two: disrobe.

She stripped out of her clothing.

Step three: turn on the shower.

She turned on the shower.

Step four: get in the shower.

She stepped under the hot spray.

Step five: sit down.

She lowered herself to a seated position.

Step six: hug your knees.

She was beginning to shudder as she wrapped her arms around her knees. The hot shower pounded on her head and back as she rocked gently from side to side. It really did help, just a little.

"It's you, isn't it?" she whispered. "You did it. You killed Scion. You're the one who made the Simurgh laugh. You're more powerful than anyone imagines. And nobody will ever know. Nobody but me." And I'll never, ever tell.

The shuddering overtook her as she buried her face in her knees. The tears flowed down her face and her shoulders heaved but then or later, she would never be sure if she was laughing or crying.

<><>​

An Hour Later
Dragon

The explosion had been quite impressive on Dragon's satellite imagery and the crater was even more so, now that she was on site to view it. As she banked her suit over the still-smoking hole that had been blasted out of the local terrain, she spotted a familiar dark-clad figure rising up to meet her. Adjusting course, she slowed to a hover while her instruments continued to gather data from the surrounding area.

"Alexandria," she said in greeting as the head of the LA branch of the Protectorate came up alongside her. "You made good time."

"I was already in the general area, trying to spot any problems that the Simurgh might've been causing," Alexandria said. "Heard the explosion and saw the mushroom cloud, so I came to investigate."

Mushroom clouds, Dragon knew quite well, were not solely a product of nuclear explosions. Any sufficiently large and energetic detonation could cause one. All the same, she doubled down on her radiation-sensing sweeps, just in case. After all, a hole this size could easily have been caused by something in the tac-nuke range. "No radiation worth worrying about," she said. "Some exotic energies lingering around, but they seem to be fading." She turned her head to look at Alexandria. "Have you found anything?"

"Quite a bit of debris, mostly from the town that used to be here," Alexandria noted. "But I did find something that should help shed some light on the situation." She held up an object the size of her palm which had been scorched and twisted to a degree that made identifying it almost impossible.

Raising her vision input to its highest magnification, Dragon thought she could make out circuitry. More specifically, a type of circuitry that had not been assembled in any factory. "Is that … Tinkertech?"

Alexandria smiled. "Give the lady a cigar. Now look at this side of it." Turning the item, she revealed a relatively untouched flat section. Into that section had been etched a well-known, if infamous, logo. Two letters, 'S' and 'T', tangled together by threads.

"String Theory," Dragon realised at once. She threw up a query concerning the name, and got back an answer almost immediately. "Wasn't she arrested near here?"

"Yes," Alexandria confirmed. "I was in on that bust. She had a base, but nothing of any note was under construction even though she'd issued a threat of knocking the moon out of orbit. We should've considered the possibility of a secondary base."

Dragon pondered that. "As I understand, her tech works on a timer. If she doesn't use it within a given interval, it malfunctions. I'm guessing that 'exploding' is a malfunction." It was an elegant theory that fit all the available evidence.

Alexandria nodded. "That definitely makes a lot of sense." She tossed up the piece of Tinkertech and caught it again. "Just on the off-chance that there was someone snooping around here before it went boom, can you detect any life signs?"

That was one of the many things Dragon had been scanning for. "None," she replied. "Anything that was in the radius of destruction is dead. Anything that was outside it is staying well away from the blast zone, for obvious reasons."

"No surprise there," Alexandria noted with a snort of dry amusement. "The only thing now is to figure out how this relates to Scion's disappearance."

Dragon wasn't sure what she meant, so she cross-checked the data and discovered the interesting fact that the explosion had taken place precisely seventeen point three seconds after Scion's golden form had vanished from the sky, halfway across the country. "That can't be a coincidence," she agreed. "The Simurgh stopped laughing, by the way. Two minutes after Scion disappeared. So there's a high degree of probability that it's all connected. How it's connected I'm still not sure, but I'm certain there's a connection."

"You raise a frighteningly important question," Alexandria admitted. "Unfortunately, we're going to need many more data points before I'm even going to hazard a guess on the matter."

"I'll see what I can do," Dragon assured her, then looked over the area around the crater. "No promises, though."

Alexandria shrugged. They both knew that 'no promises' was a fact of cape life.

<><>​

One Week Later
New York City
Jamie Nightingale's Apartment

Jamie glowered at the oven. She really didn't like cooking, not least because juggling hot items in and out of the oven was made all the more difficult when a wheelchair was involved. But she wanted to be independent, and so occasionally she pushed herself to do the things she didn't like. Case in point: today she was making a lasagne. Normally, she only made enough for one sitting, but she'd lucked on to a special at the supermarket so she had a quadruple-sized batch in the pan, ready to go.

It still didn't mean she liked it, but she needed to go ahead and do it if she wanted to eat over the next few days. So she opened the oven door and took the pan down from the bench. Just as she was sliding it into the oven, the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" she called out. She made sure of the placement of the pan, shut the oven door, and double-checked the temperature setting. Then she hung the tea-towel around her neck, spun the wheelchair in a half-circle and headed for the door.

When she opened the front door, a deliveryman stood there with a large wrapped parcel in his hands. "Delivery for apartment two-thirty-six?" he droned. She was sure he was already focusing on his next delivery, but the trouble was that she didn't think she hadn't ordered anything recently.

"This is apartment two-thirty-six," she confirmed. "But I don't think I …"

"Thizizyourz," he grunted, dumping the twenty-pound parcel on to her lap. "Havanizeday."

"Wait!" she protested, but he'd already turned away. It nearly rolled off her lap, but she caught it in time. It felt cold in her hands and on her legs, but she quickly realised that it was a leg of ham. The delivery guy was already out of sight, and she looked down at the parcel. As she'd expected, it hadn't actually been addressed to her, but a couple of smears and a single artfully-placed rip on the label might've made it look that way to someone who wasn't really paying attention.

"What are the odds?" she wondered as she rolled herself back far enough to close and lock the door. Of course, she couldn't keep it. It wasn't hers. She'd have to decipher the apartment number from the mess of the label and figure out to get it to them. In the meantime, she decided to shove it in the fridge so it wouldn't go rancid.

She'd just closed the refrigerator door when the doorbell rang a second time. "Typical," she muttered. "Now he comes back to get it. Coming!" she called, raising her voice. Opening the fridge door, she took out the leg of ham again. She was happy that she didn't have to track down its rightful owner after all, but the guy's timing left a lot to be desired.

Wheeling herself back to the front door with the ham on her lap was a pain, but she just wanted it off her hands. Jerking open the door, she snapped, "Took your own sweet time getting back to me."

"Excuse me?" asked Eidolon.

<><>​

Panacea

" … so I thought it was the delivery guy coming back," Jamie said. "Sorry. Didn't mean to yell at you." She looked from where Eidolon sat on the sofa to where Amy perched beside him. "Or at you. I don't normally snap at guests." She looked and sounded embarrassed for her outburst. "Especially when it's two superheroes."

"Look, it's okay," Amy assured her. "I've been yelled at before. More than once, in fact. Sometimes I even deserved it." Carol's career as a lawyer, as it turned out, had taken a naturally sharp tongue and honed it to a razor's edge. She shrugged. Jamie's outburst had barely made her radar.

"Oh." Jamie sniffed. "Wait, sorry. I've just got to check on my lasagne." She spun the chair around with remarkable agility and wheeled herself toward what Amy guessed was the kitchen.

Amy didn't say anything, but the smell of the lasagne was utterly mouth-watering. Whatever recipe Eidolon's lady friend used, she'd hit it right on the mark. But the smell wasn't what got her attention about the whole situation. What really caused her antennae to quiver was the ex-cop's description of how she'd just so happened to have a lasagne cooking at exactly the right moment that two guests dropped in. At the back of her mind was the image of a totally untroubled girl standing next to a man with a knife, and a falling piano. I know of someone who sets up coincidences like this without even trying …

Right on cue, Jamie wheeled back into sight in the kitchen doorway. "Uh, you wouldn't want to stay for dinner, would you? I mean, this was meant to last me several days, so I've got plenty …?"

In her tone, Amy read an aching loneliness and something more. She likes him. A lot. Eidolon had spoken of Jamie Nightingale with admiration, but nothing more. Is it possible that he doesn't know how she feels about him? She had no idea why Taylor Hebert might be trying to set up Eidolon of all people with a girlfriend, but she'd seen what happened to people who got on Taylor's bad side, and she had no intention of doing that.

"Oh, uh, we really shouldn't be imposing on you—" Eidolon's automatic excuse stuttered to a halt when Amy's elbow surreptitiously jabbed him in the body armour over his ribs.

"Sure we would," the teenager enthused. "It smells delicious, Miss Nightingale. And it's been ages since I've had a good lasagne. What about you, Eidolon?" She elbowed him again. His helmet turned toward her, and she hissed, "Say yes! Trust me on this!"

In her opinion, it took him far too long to get the hint. "Uh … on the other hand … yes?"

Jamie beamed.

<><>​

Eidolon

David's first instinct was to leave. He liked Jamie well enough—in fact, he liked her more than a little—but being offered a home-cooked meal was somewhat out of his experience. Of course, quite a lot of what he'd been doing recently was out of his experience. So when Panacea insisted that they stay and take Jamie up on her offer, he'd agreed.

Which led to the next awkward situation. He followed Panacea through to the dining space and was about to sit down when he realised that both Panacea and Jamie were looking at him oddly. "What?" he asked.

"Does … your visor lift up or something?" asked Panacea. "I mean, Kid Win's only covers down to his nose. Clockblocker's got a full face helmet, but if he thinks he's going to be opening his visor, he wears a domino mask under it." She looked at him expectantly.

"Ah." For a moment, he considered just making an excuse and leaving. Though if he did this, he strongly suspected that Panacea would be heavily disapproving and, odd though it seemed, her good opinion was important to him. Jamie's was too, he belatedly realised.

That led to another startling insight. He not only liked Jamie, but he held her in rather high regard. More specifically, he trusted her more than he trusted most people. He wasn't quite sure if this was the result of their talks or the fact that she'd shown him a rewarding new way to use his powers, and was still happy to remain in obscurity while he accepted any accolades for the results of his efforts.

"I'm guessing that's a 'no'." Jamie nodded briskly. "That's okay. I'll put some aside for you to eat later, in private." She began to wheel herself away from the table.

"No," David said. "Wait." Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached up and pushed his hood back, then lifted his helmet off of his head. As they stared at him, he placed the helmet on the table with a gentle clack. "Now I can eat with you."

"Isn't that … I mean, are you supposed to … I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to see you unmasked," Jamie said doubtfully. "Won't I get in trouble for this?"

"Pfft, unmasking is overrated," Panacea said with an airy wave of her hand. "I've never even had a secret identity. Miss Nightingale, are you going to tell anyone what Eidolon looks like?"

David had to hand it to Panacea. To his certain knowledge, she had never seen his face before today, not from worry that she'd out him but more from the fact that there'd been no particular reason to do so. Among capes, Panacea was seen as particularly trustworthy, given that she'd held the lives of more than a few of them in her hands. And despite the fact that he'd blindsided them both with it, she was treating the revelation with enough casual unconcern that Jamie's worries were being disarmed before his eyes.

"Well, no, of course not," Jamie said hastily. She turned to Eidolon. "I would never do anything like that."

"I believe you," he said firmly. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have unmasked. We all have people we trust enough to unmask to. I trust you. Am I wrong to?" He tried to project warmth and reassurance into his voice.

"Well, no," she said. "Like I said, I'll keep your secrets." She lifted her chin. "I haven't been in uniform for years, but I still remember the oath."

"Cool," Panacea said cheerfully. "Welcome to the club." Reaching across, she clasped Jamie's hand briefly, then she picked up her knife and fork. "I'm starving. Let's eat."

<><>​

Jamie

If anyone had told Jamie she would be hosting two superheroes for dinner, she simply wouldn't have believed them. Had they then told her that her guests' jokes and silly stories would leave her laughing helplessly, she would have worried for their sanity. But somehow, that was what was happening.

Eidolon told stories about villains he and the rest of the Triumvirate had faced. The villains had been outmatched one and all, sometimes hilariously. For such a serious man, he had an understated way of telling a story that brought out the funny side of things.

Panacea, on the other hand, had apparently grown up with a super-powered sibling and two cousins, all of whom had expressed teenage rebellion in different ways. Between that and her anecdotes about facing the villains of Brockton Bay, Jamie laughed till her sides ached. She'd occasionally wondered if some of the stories about the notorious Uber and L33t were exaggerated, but from the ones Panacea told, she suspected not.

"So after that, Vicky couldn't even stand the idea of orange juice for days," Panacea finished with relish. She chased the last piece of pasta around her plate with her fork. "Miss Nightingale, you're a great cook."

Jamie rolled her eyes as she giggled at the image Panacea had presented. "Like I said, call me Jamie. Everyone else does."

"Only if you call me Amy instead of Panacea." The teenage superhero gave her a stern look. "I get called Panacea enough on the job. Which reminds me."

"Reminds you of what?" David—Jamie still couldn't believe she was on first-name terms with two superheroes!—looked at Panacea quizzically.

Panacea—Amy—rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Do I have to be the one to bring up the elephant in the room?" She gave David a pointed look. "You did bring me here to fix Jamie's leg, right?"

<><>​

Eidolon

"What?" David blinked, taken aback. "No, I … Jamie has helped me a lot, and given me a lot of good insights. I wanted to tell her about the progress we've been making on the food plants, and the other projects you've been helping me with. Basically, I wanted you to meet each other." He gestured helplessly. "I've come to the conclusion that as powerful as we are, we're incomplete without the perspective offered by people who don't have powers."

"Are you saying I need that kind of perspective, too?" Panacea tilted her head. "Huh. I guess I might. Sometimes my powers do kinda take up most of my attention." She laughed ruefully. "Like right now, assuming that you invited me here to heal Jamie instead of just meeting her." She turned to their host. "So I know why Eidolon didn't ask me to help you out. I'm curious as to why you didn't."

Jamie blinked. "You can fix my leg? I thought you just … well, cured cancer and healed bullet wounds and stuff. I didn't know you could repair traumatic amputations. And anyway, you guys are off the clock right now … right?"

"Heh." To David's ear, Panacea's snort of laughter didn't hold much in the way of humour. "Remind me to tell you sometime about walking to the hospital in the middle of the night because I can't sleep. 'Off the clock' is a slippery concept when you don't have a real secret identity. But yeah, I can fix your leg. We're just going to need a source of biomass, otherwise I'll have to scavenge …" She paused, then a grin spread across her face. "Hah!"

"'Hah' what?" asked David curiously. "Why are you smiling like that?" He got the impression that he was failing to make a connection that she'd already arrived at, and that when he clicked, he was going to be very irritated with himself.

Panacea stood up and headed toward the kitchen. "This was all meant to happen," she said, her words tumbling over themselves. "We were meant to show up today, just as Jamie had a lasagne on to bake. Because I'm meant to fix her leg. Because the biomass to do so showed up five minutes before we did, in the form of …" Reaching the fridge, she opened the door with a flourish. " … a mis-delivered leg of ham!"

Jamie frowned. "But that's just a coincidence … right?"

Reaching into the fridge, Panacea hefted the leg of ham and lifted it out. Pushing the door closed with her butt, she carried the ham over to the table. "Trust me, if you'd seen what's been going on in Brockton Bay over the last couple of weeks, you would not be saying that." Placing it in front of Jamie, she cracked her knuckles. "Okay, let's get you back on your feet."

David facepalmed.

<><>​

Panacea

"Okay, that should do it." Amy ensured that the last neural links had set themselves up correctly, then stood up from beside Jamie's wheelchair. The stocking covering the stump had been removed for this operation. Confirming Amy's suspicion about the whole situation, the ham had contained exactly the right amount of mass to replace Jamie's missing lower leg. She'd used Jamie's other leg as a template, a trick she was adept at.

But now was the moment of truth. Some people took to using the new limb almost immediately, while others had to re-learn everything from scratch. "Let's see you wiggle your toes."

"Okay." Jamie looked doubtful. "It feels strange."

"It is strange." Amy glanced at Eidolon, who had stayed back out of the way the whole time. She'd been nervous about doing this in front of a Triumvirate hero, to someone Eidolon thought a lot of, but he hadn't offered any criticisms. "This foot is brand new. You haven't had one for years."

"Ah, right." Lips pursed in concentration, Jamie began to wriggle her toes, one by one. Then she worked her newly-constructed ankle back and forth. "Wow. This is … amazing."

Amy grinned, enjoying the look of wonder on Jamie's face. "It's always pretty cool from my side, too. Think you want to try walking on it? Looks like you've got toe-wiggling down pat."

"I don't know," Jamie said doubtfully. She looked over at Eidolon. "Do you think I should?"

"Absolutely." Eidolon stepped forward. "You can lean on me. I won't let you fall."

Discreetly, Amy stepped back to let Eidolon take her place. She watched as the superhero—just a man, at this moment—helped the once-crippled woman stand up. The first few steps were barely steps at all, but the look on Jamie's face was one of pure wonder. With Eidolon guiding her, she took longer and longer steps, resting her weight on her new foot with more and more confidence. They didn't notice as Amy let herself out of the apartment. She could get a cab to the Protectorate building; from there, she was sure she could scrounge a lift back to Brockton Bay.

Her work in New York, as the saying went, was done.

<><>​

Eidolon

Smiling broadly, David watched Jamie walk the length of the apartment and back again. She was still a little unsteady on her feet, but she was gaining confidence all the time. Still, her balance wasn't perfect; she was almost back to him when she tripped and fell. He caught her, of course.

"Wow," she murmured, making no attempt to right herself. Her arms snaked around his neck.

"Wow, what?" Not for the first time, he noted that she was quite pretty. However, this was the first time he'd had her in his arms when he made that observation. Unaccountably, his heart rate went up.

"You have such nice eyes," she said softly. "And I've just realised I'm about to do something I haven't done for a long time." He raised his eyebrows quizzically … then she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.

David had been kissed before, but due to the chronic nature of his condition before he got his powers, they had been no more than pity-kisses from girls who felt fleetingly sorry for him. Afterward, of course, he'd been submerged in the wonder of being the most powerful cape in the world. He'd never experienced this level of passion in a kiss, from a mature healthy woman to a mature healthy man, conveying a certain amount of intent. Despite the fact that he was the one with two original-issue legs, he felt himself go weak at the knees.

The last thing he actually wanted to do was stop. Many thoughts about Jamie Nightingale, ones which he had denied because he felt them unworthy of a hero about a lady, and which he would've felt extremely uncomfortable attempting to express anyway, came crowding to the forefront of his brain. But his sense of propriety overrode everything else, and he reluctantly pushed her away.

"What?" she asked, gazing up at him with languorous eyes made huge by her dilated pupils. "What's the matter?"

"Panacea," he said thickly, looking around for the teen. "I have to make sure she gets home." And he knew damn well that making out with their host in front of a teenage girl was definitely Not the Done Thing.

Jamie's chuckle was throaty, and sent tingles up and down his spine. "She left fifteen minutes ago, sweetheart," she murmured. "I thought you knew. Now, do you have anything else important to worry about tonight?"

Try as he might—though he didn't try too hard—David couldn't think of a single thing. Mutely, he shook his head.

Jamie's full lips curved in a delicious smile, and she deliberately undid the top button of her dress. "Then come here, you idiot," she told him, and pulled him in for another kiss.

This time, he didn't push her away.

<><>​

Panacea

Amy accepted the change from the cab driver and got out on to the sidewalk. Unlike in Brockton Bay, New York's Protectorate base was on dry land, which made getting to it much easier. Heading up the steps to the front doors, she watched as they slid aside, then entered the main lobby.

Taking a cab in New York was different from taking one in Brockton Bay. The cabbie had spent the trip gossiping about the goings-on in the city, but he hadn't once recognised her. Of course, she mused, this was probably due to her not being in costume. Even back home, it took some people a few moments to place her if they met her in a social situation. But here, she'd spent a good ten minutes talking to the guy and he hadn't once registered who she really was. It had been an experience both humbling and enlightening.

The lady behind the reception desk ceased her quiet conversation with the attending PRT guard as Amy approached. "Can I help you?" she asked. She looked professional, efficient and alert, even at this late hour.

"Uh, yeah," said Amy. "I'm Panacea, from Brockton Bay. Can I get a lift home, or a bed for the night then a lift in the morning, or something?" Belatedly, she began to wonder if this was a bad idea. She could have called up Aunt Sarah or someone, but that would mean a long night-flight for both of them.

"Oh," said the woman, straightening her spine a few more inches. "I'm sorry, Panacea. I didn't recognise you. Do you have ID on you?"

"Sure." Amy knew exactly what the woman wanted. She pulled her purse out of her pocket and retrieved the 'PRT Affiliate' card, with the picture of her in costume. Putting it on the desk, she slid it across to the receptionist.

The woman picked it up and looked at her over it. Helpfully, Amy covered her mouth and nose with her purse, to simulate her scarf. "Ah, of course," the woman said. "Thank you, Panacea. We don't have any transports heading north right now, but we've got guest accommodation that you're welcome to use. Do you want us to call New Wave and let them know you're here?"

"Nah, that's okay, I can do that." Amy tapped her pocket with the phone in it. "But a shower and a bed for the night would be wonderful, thanks." While the day hadn't been exactly strenuous, and she'd only had to deal with one healing, it was all starting to pile up on her.

"Certainly." The lady flashed her a bright, professional smile. "I'll just contact someone to take you up and get you settled." She pressed her earpiece twice, and had a murmured conversation with the person on the other end.

It didn't take long before one of the four lifts opened and a teenage girl stepped out. "Panacea?" she called. She wore a skin-tight deep purple costume that immediately brought Tattletale to mind, although the white metal armour panels dispelled the resemblance just as quickly. Also, her eyes were obscured by a visor instead of the Undersider girl's domino mask, and finally, she had long flowing black hair instead of Tattletale's dirty blonde mess. "I'm Flechette. Come on up."

"Cool," Amy said. Approaching Flechette, she held out her hand in greeting. "Call me Amy." She couldn't help but feel vaguely disloyal to Vicky as Flechette's curves caught her eye, but she pushed the thought away. Vicky's not interested, so I can look.

"Nice to meet you, uh, Amy." Flechette was obviously unused to meeting capes who went around unmasked. Still, she shook Amy's hand, then they stepped back into the lift. Flechette hit the button to go up, and the doors closed. As Amy raised her eyes to Flechette's after what she'd thought to be a discreet appraisal of the other girl's body—that costume really didn't leave much to the imagination—she found Flechette looking back at her with a knowing smile on her lips.

Oh, shit. Busted.

"So, you like what you see?" For some reason, Flechette's smile widened as Amy flushed vividly.

"I, uh, what, um …" Amy floundered, wanting to say yes, but not wanting to just come out and say it.

"The building," Flechette said by way of explanation as the lift started upward. "It's very impressive, isn't it?" But the glance she shot Amy made it quite plain that she was throwing the biokinetic a lifeline. Neither one of them believed Flechette was actually talking about the building.

"Uh, very impressive, yes." Amy didn't mean the building either. Daringly, she added, "I'd, uh, like to see a lot more of it."

"On behalf of the Protectorate, thank you." Flechette's smile turned wicked, and she very deliberately checked Amy out. "So … staying the night, huh?" A very pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

"Uh, yeah." Amy flushed again, hard. She'd never had another girl look at her in the way Flechette was. Did that mean she was … interested? Flechette wasn't Vicky, but Vicky wasn't interested, and Amy got so lonely sometimes …

As the lift came to a stop, Flechette gave Amy another quick up-and-down. When her gaze met Amy's, eye contact was total. "Good."

And all Amy could think was, Eidolon's not the only one Taylor was setting up.

Damn, that girl is good.



End of Part Nineteen

Part Twenty [END]

 

[Starfox5]

Very nice scene there with Contessa in the shower. And I called it for Scion

 

[Slayer Anderson]

And all Amy could think was, Eidolon's not the only one Taylor was setting up.

Damn, that girl is good.

Click to shrink...

Your eyes have seen the design of the new authority, Amy, and have not flinched from its grand design.

 

[Ack]

Your eyes have seen the design of the new authority, Amy, and have not flinched from its grand design.

Click to shrink...

The funny thing is, Taylor won't be running the world. She won't be making any decisions. She'll just be having fun. Her shard will be also having fun, kicking the shit out of any shard that tries to make Taylor unhappy.

 

[Slayer Anderson]

The funny thing is, Taylor won't be running the world. She won't be making any decisions. She'll just be having fun. Her shard will be also having fun, kicking the shit out of any shard that tries to make Taylor unhappy.

Click to shrink...

Well, perhaps not 'running the world' so much as being an incarnation of 'the force that runs the world.' There are arguments of a 'clockwork god' that align with the sentiment.

Im happy to see Amy get some, though I can't help but feel Amy/Flechette is just to make Vicky jealous and drawn Flechette to Parian in Brockton Bay.

 

[Darkarma]

I'm starting to think Taylor's shard misunderstood its directive of gathering data from conflict.

Also the S button on the portal gun really is a safety, designed specifically for saving the world through the use and abuse of anything that starts with S. Scion, Simurgh, Sting, String Theory, Suspension of Disbelief, Stupidity, Serendipity...

Am I close?

 

[Alexcorvin]

Damn! Both Amy and Eidolon gettin' lucky? No love for Taylor, Ack? Shame! Shame! (jk)

Any smutty chapters for this fic, BTW?

 

[Ack]

Damn! Both Amy and Eidolon gettin' lucky? No love for Taylor, Ack? Shame! Shame! (jk)

Any smutty chapters for this fic, BTW?

Click to shrink...

Well, we all know that Amy and Eidolon desperately needed to get laid and get rid of some of that tension.

Taylor's in a far better headspace. She doesn't have the same need to get down and dirty with Brian as she did in canon. This isn't to say that she won't, but it'll take a bit more time. They'll both be a bit more mature, and they'll get to know each other better as people. She already likes Brian and considers him a friend (and hunky as hell) but the chemistry is still building between them.

I haven't done any smutty chapters for this fic; yet, anyway. Mind you, this is the first chapter with shipping.

I'm starting to think Taylor's shard misunderstood its directive of gathering data from conflict.

Also the S button on the portal gun really is a safety, designed specifically for saving the world through the use and abuse of anything that starts with S. Scion, Simurgh, Sting, String Theory, Suspension of Disbelief, Stupidity, Serendipity...

Am I close?

Click to shrink...

The 'S' stands for 'Shenanigans'

 

[MadGreenSon]

I'm starting to think Taylor's shard misunderstood its directive of gathering data from conflict.

Click to shrink...

Not at all! The best data is what it feels like to win. The biggest win against shard-users is kicking Entity ass. Therefore it has successfully engaged in high level conflict and is gathering all kinds of data about winning. Give it a month or two and it'll start kicking the shit out of the laws of the universe too.

Yummy conflict data. Yay.

 

[edale]

And all Amy could think was, Eidolon's not the only one Taylor was setting up.

Click to shrink...

Nice....But now who will poor lonely Sabah end up with?

 

[macdjord]

Nice....But now who will poor lonely Sabah end up with?

Click to shrink...

A cute girl started working at her local supermarket and they've been flirting every time she goes there for groceries? Not ever relationship has to be with another cape.

 

[Ack]

A cute girl started working at her local supermarket and they've been flirting every time she goes there for groceries? Not ever relationship has to be with another cape.

Click to shrink...

Exactly. And note that the Flechette relationship was against the background of post-Levi BB. With BB actually going places, she's a) got the chance to meet new people, and b) would still have her family and friends for emotional support (given the lack of S9 to screw that up).