JollyHippo's Snippet Thread

[JollyHippopotamus]

Snippet 1: Lamentations of Loki.

I have seven stories and this snippet thread combining to a little over a million words posted, although so far only AO3 and FF has all my stories fully posted.

Plus my Patreon.

So I have brain worms that I haven't made into full on stories yet, here it is in a snippet thread, starting with a Loki/Star wars crossover.

Hope you enjoy.

---

Loki couldn't believe these were the people that had managed to stave off the chitauri invasion. Bumbling buffoons - it made sense in a twisted way however, if he thought about it. Who else would his brot- He violently cut off that thought, tearing it into nothing within his mindscape. When you've called a fool something for a few centuries, it became an unfortunate habit, unfortunately. He'd need to excise that foul habit post haste. He had no brother. Never had one!

So… To get back to it, since he had nothing better to do with his brilliant mind while these apes argued and nattered on. Who else would Thor manage to gain as allies, but another band of insipid hangers on - with no real useful abilities of their own. Some fools to revel with, where Thor could brag about his feats of strength without challenge. A band of fools who's only contribution to the universe was the ability to hit things hard. No cunning or guile amongst them, not really. Even the spies were painfully simple.

They were practically Aesir in their single-minded ability to charge straight ahead at a target with no overarching strategy behind it. Loki felt a certain smugness - even in such a temporary bind he'd found himself in. These avengers were not going to last, they'd do more damage then he, once they indubitably combusted.

Oh, Stark was clever enough, Loki supposed, perhaps he'd become something spectacular if he lived long enough, and didn't sink down to Thor's level, the man had the same glory and attention seeking ways of the golden son of Odin. Loki shook his head mentally, nothing good ever came to such attention seeking pests in the end, luckily Loki had avoided the same fate and made something extraordinary of himself without the need for constant simpering validation.

Loki recognized the spark of genius when he saw it, and Stark had a tiny smidgeon of it. After all, it was hard not to recognize it, with Loki having been a notable genius all of his life. Honestly, he shouldn't have been surprised he wasn't an aesir, in the end. He lacked the ingrown simple-mindedness, as well as their charming penchant for knocking their heads against hard surfaces as a solution to all of life's problems - something that ran rampant in that race. Its crown prince being the main example. And lauded for it, as well. Barbarians. No, perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised he was not one of their kin.

Perhaps It was only a matter of his supreme intellect hiding the knowledge of his real heritage - even from himself. To protect himself from such news back when he was younger and less wise to the world. It's the only explanation that made any sense. Loki could not have missed his damnable Jotun heritage for so long, unless he, himself, was hiding it from him. He was the only one skilled enough, after all.

Illusion was his game, his art. And only a master of illusion could pull one over Loki. It's the only thing that made sense. Loki had pulled the wool over his own eyes, to explain away his heritage, the falsities in his relationships with Odin and Thor, out of some misguided youthful hope perhaps, that he'd still end up belonging with them in their gilded halls. Foolish sentiment. Hadn't he seen first hand how quickly Asgard turned on him. How easily Odin sacrificed him?

He idly noted that the mortals were finally done jabbering at each other. He rolled his eyes at the grandiose Captain America striding by, taking his visage for but a moment, mocking him, as was his due, for which the oaf, born of Odin, muzzled him.

He focused in on the Captain, ignoring the oaf. The self deluded man out of time would fit right in with Thor's band, really. The man would never last in such a mortal realm however - he'd shatter without a righteous war to fight, he could never exist in a world of gray - black and white was his worldview, Loki detested such inflexible viewpoints. Loki would have wiped the floor with the man without trying, if he hadn't had his own act to play.

And honestly, he'd barely been trying. The mortals had practically fallen over themselves in their rush to fall for it all. Like he wanted to rule this cesspool of a planet. The mortals were all deeply unpalatable - he'd murder them all within a month if he had to rule these ants and try to bring them into some semblance of intelligence. Even he could not bring this planet up to standards - it was doomed to mediocrity, truly ruled by apes.

This pitiful selection of mortals… They thought they had defeated him! He'd run circles around Thor for centuries. By the norns, Thor still fell for the snake and stab trick, the same as centuries ago! And these humans... Mortals… Thought they'd defeated him. Hah! Absolutely preposterous.

Loki could have simply weaved his illusions and watched the mortals flounder. He'd purposely held back - he'd had no wish to truly let Thanos fleet through, after all. A win for Thanos while Loki was still present on the planet was not a win for Loki. The likes of him would not bow down to a master. And he certainly would not call another one father! He'd already made that mistake once. Family was a masterful illusion - only a weave of pain and betrayal lay beneath it.

No… He'd simply miscalculated, slightly. The ridiculous creature had been stronger than he'd anticipated. He'd be long gone already if it weren't for that miserable green monstrosity, leaving the mortals to scratch their heads as he located a waygate and sought out another part of Yggdrasil.

If anything, these mortals should be thanking him on bended knees. At least now they'd have a small warning of Thanos - not that it would do anything. And hopefully Loki would be long gone by the time the Mad Titan finally made his play. What they believed that a man with a bow, and a woman who's greatest ability lay in seduction and assassination - would protect this wretch of a world from, he couldn't understand. The least Aesir amongst them and yet still terribly transparent to the god of mischief. Skilled for mortals, but not worth anything against the likes of Thanos.

At least Stark might build enough of a defense to matter. For a few minutes. The green beast might even amuse Thanos long enough for everyone to escape - if he didn't bother to bring the Black Order with him. And the Captain… No, he was as useless as the archer and the widow in this scenario. It amused him the entire elevator ride down - to imagine these fools faces when Thanos real armada showed up. If he even bothered with that kind of force. Ebony Maw on his own could likely do most of the work. Certainly Loki could have done it all on his own if he'd wished for it.

These fools were all too much like Thor. Maw would have them wrapped up before they could even start fighting. Thor fell for Loki's tricks when he was playing around - what could he possibly do against the Black Order.

Loki briefly wondered if Odin would come to defend Midgard. Then again - likely Thanos would come for Asgard first… He felt a pang of unease at that thought - and quickly banished it. He was not of Asgard. Besides he'd soon be there - no doubt imprisoned for no real reason. It's not like a few dead mortals made a difference, and he'd done them a favor really - if someone like Maw or Proxima Midnight had been sent, Midgard would already be ashes. Besides, Odin had probably killed his fair share of mortals back in the day, he certainly hadn't been chastised for it. Loki wasn't blind to the fact Asgards golden halls had been built through conquest.

Of course only if Loki desires conquest is it wrong. Aesir hypocrisy. Odin, a greater liar even then he, sometimes called the god of lies.

No… Aesir could kill mortals all they liked. They were worthy. His mind flashed back to that ridiculous enchantment on Mjolnir - that had refused him. Of course, when Odin was the one choosing the meaning of the word worthy…No wonder stupidity and suicidal head on attacks were considered worthy while cleverness and subtlety were not. Bah!

Loki's mind darkened as he was escorted by these pathetic Avengers, a prisoner to this lesser race. He did not look forward to the smug look on that old hypocrite's face. Loki the betrayer. Loki the conqueror. Loki the failure - Odin would say. Loki snarled beneath his muzzle. If it weren't for that damnable beast he'd be gone already and he'd never see that smug old relic again.

Enjoying the rest of his life in some wretched hive of villainy - preferably as its ruler - until Thanos unmade reality. Perhaps if he was lucky, he'd survive even that. He was a survivor if nothing else. That, he'd proven, over and over again.

He briefly noticed the commotion, as the mortals were arguing about the Tesseract, SHIELD trying to get their grubby paws on it. Like they even understood its power - like they deserved it. They - another set of apes, would once again be trying to limit those of glorious purpose, like himself. Out of jealousy, and fear.

His interest piqued when he noticed that Tony Stark appeared to be in some distress - perhaps he'd get to see one of them get their comeuppance already. The mortals of SHIELD panicked around them, allowing Loki the freedom to stand alone in the midst of the chaos - without a sullen Thor holding him by the arm for the moment. As of course, the oaf jumped in to assist. Norns know why, not like he had any inkling of the healing arts.

And of course, the idiot somehow successfully saved Tony Stark - despite having the medical knowledge of a particularly slow rock. Loki despaired at the general unfairness of the universe. Using Mjolnir and a little bit of lightning, he had better odds of frying the mortal's organs than fixing anything, so of course it worked. The universe itself worked against Loki.

There was a loud slam suddenly behind them all - the beast appearing, roaring something, and Loki's eyes widened as he saw a second Tony Stark get thrown across the floor, a briefcase spinning towards Loki's general location. The Tesseract case! Ignoring, for now, the question of time travel or magic involved, (although noting it for later, because WHAT!? Do these fools have any idea how dangerous meddling with time was!? Ignorant inconsequential APES!) Loki immediately took advantage of the situation as the consummate survivor he was. Reaching for the Tesseract. Once again holding the powerful artifact in his hands. What did shackles matter when one held an infinity stone in one's hands?

In one timeline, Loki had immediately disappeared. Here, Loki smugly stood with the Tesseract in his hands for a moment. Reveling in the grand joke of the mortals handing him his own means of escape. Time travel or magic, the means didn't matter - the fools had managed to muck it up - as only mortals could.

Loki felt all powerful as he basked in the blue glow, knowing he had once again won. That his enemies had once again foolishly underestimated him and his glorious purpose.

"Loki! No!" Thor shouted, face wrought in anger and resentment, swinging Mjolnir, and whether due to his recent heart restoring actions, or by pure chance - forced a bolt of crackling lightning towards Loki - instead of sending the hammer flying towards him - as he was only a few feet away. At the same time, Tony Stark, laying on the ground, half out of it - fired a repulsor blast, trying a last gasp attempt at preventing his escape.

In that moment, Loki could not think of a destination - simply willed himself elsewhere, and he was enveloped in the blue glowing essence of the space stone. Just then, the power of Thor and that of an arc reactor - via the repulsor blast, struck the Tesseract in the moment of transportation, just as Loki was disappearing through time and space.

Loki screamed in excruciating pain, even through the muzzle feeling real harrowing fear as it felt as if his entire existence was being ripped apart. And he disappeared in a cloud of blue.

His haunting screams leaving the avengers reeling.

---

Loki was screaming still the muzzle somehow gone, as he was jettisoned from the portal, his entire body in agony from being ripped out of his time and space. His trajectory coming to an ungraceful end as a pile of refuse slowed his travels - until he finally came to a stop, laying on-top of a pile of rotted garbage of some unidentifiable material, trying desperately to hold in any more screams, every nerve in his body protesting.

After what could have been minutes, or hours - Honestly Loki was a little preoccupied with the immense pain, so he couldn't really tell - Some sort of pig headed and half naked being, came close to his location, wearing only a helmet and some sort of leather loincloth. Loki winced as he tilted his neck, watching the creature, he was in no state to do anything, to his frustration. He had no idea on what planet he'd landed, either. At least AllSpeak would allow him to manipulate these primitive beings, until he had the strength to show them their place. Far far beneath him.

He'd also have to find the damn Tesseract. His hands had hardly been in a state to hold on to it when he arrived, spasming in pain as he had been, nor did he exactly have the time or focus to use seidr to place it in his personal subspace holding pocket, so it must be somewhere in this refuse pile. He'd get the pig beings to dig it up for him.

Surely rooting through waste was their lot in life either way, so they'd find it quickly for him.

The pig-being suddenly snorted, looking up at Loki's position above him on the refuse pile. Loki smirked down at him, "I have come - in glorious purpose." He began, speaking grandly, knowing such lesser creatures were easily impressed by grandstanding. And hopefully it would prevent it from asking such questions as - why can't you stand up?

Either his AllSpeak was failing him, or the pig-being simply snorted at him. Loki didn't have time to do more than bristle at the rudeness. Because the pig took out some sort of projectile weapon and Loki was helpless to do anything but rage silently, as a blue bolt of energy impacted him.

As he succumbed to unconsciousness - he swore eternal vengeance on all pig creatures.

---

Loki came to with a start, eyes immediately started searching his surroundings. He was in a simple cell, crude metal bars barring the exit out of the literal hovel he'd been shoved into. Him, a god! Shoved into an earthen hole with no amenities! He sat up abruptly, wincing as some of the soreness of his arrival still lingered in his muscles. Not helped by the stone bed he'd been put on. Not even a pillow, these barbarian pig-beings obviously had no concept of hospitality.

He raised his arms to look over the cuffs that kept his hands locked together at the wrist. Their metallic sheen and electronic lights were a far cry from the ambiance of his accommodations. "Not bad." He mused, moving them to and fro. Experimentally pulling away with his superior strength. Finding that even his strength only slightly pulled the cuffs apart, before they returned to each other with an electric whine. "Magnetic." Loki huffed, gaining an amused smile, as if that was enough to stymie a god. He'd escaped plenty of dungeons in his lifetime. At a rate more numerous than this hovel had ever held within its innards since its conception.

He could feel just the tiniest flame of seidr within him. Whatever had happened during the Tesseract incident, was already healing. Both Jotun and Aesir had above average recovery rates, one of the reasons both races so enjoyed war - when one recovers within a day, one hardly worries about anything below death. Whichever race he counted as, nowadays.

Neither. He decided firmly, resolutely moving his mind away from that quagmire. Concentrating on his seidr. Fanning the flame, closing his eyes as he sat on the stone bench that passed for a bed in these parts. Slowly teasing it out, feeling the flicker of it. It was so weak. Rage almost overtook him, with how Thor had once again put him in a spot with his carelessness, throwing his power around like a toddler. He forced the thought away, however, brow twitching. He needed calm. Calm. He took a deep breath.

Slowly he began teasing his seidr out, breathing in and out slowly, falling into meditation. His eyes flew open in surprise, the recovery of his seidr was proceeding at an alarmingly fast pace. Which… While good… Spoke against all knowledge on seidr that Loki possessed. He'd had a few unlucky episodes in his life where he'd almost burned out his ability to use it - and in the worst case he suffered - it took years for his Seidr to return to him. He'd never experienced anything as excruciating as the Tesseract transporting him here, not even Thanos using an infinity stone to pry apart his mind could compare. The tortures of the Other and Maw were but a footnote in comparison.

So that begged the question. What was going on? He felt confident that his seidr would be fully restored within the month. Which simply was impossible. His entire being had been torn apart and put back together again - he should be facing a decade minimum of recovery, if even a recovery at all.

Loki was, with only perhaps Frigga as the sole exception - the greatest scholar on seidr in the cosmos. He'd studied, cajoled, blackmailed and bribed his way through every scrap of knowledge that existed on the subject. Although he'd only ever used a fraction of his knowledge, due to the pigheaded Aesir belief of the weakness of mages - that it was a womanly pursuit to study magic. He'd suffered enough ridicule for fighting with illusions and daggers - he didn't need to bring out even more magic and lose what respect he'd held.

Loki took a deep breath, pulling his mind away from that useless line of thought. He was no longer on Asgard. Those pigheaded fools did not matter anymore. Pigheaded…. Loki stood up and walked up to the bars of his cell, seeing nothing but a dark hallway with more of this sandy stone structure. "Pig-being, I am Loki, I demand you release me!" He thundered into the dark.

No answer came and Loki growled with annoyance and impatience. He turned around and studied his cell more closely. There was nothing, not even as much as a place to relieve yourself. Which told him these beings either cared not for the health and cleanliness of their prisoners - Or that prisoners did not remain here, or alive, long enough to worry about sickness from improper waste disposal.

He returned to the cell entrance, banging his cuffed hands on the metal, the loud clank echoing down the hallway. "I demand to speak to whoever is in charge! I am Loki… " He grit his teeth with a wroth look, "Of Asgard…" unfortunately such things mattered and he was if nothing else - resourceful enough to use anything to his benefit, as distasteful as it was.

Slowly a metal being came into view, walking oddly disjointedly, the being carrying a tray, Loki waited impatiently as the being slowly moved his way, the metal well worn and dented, the being's eyes glowing, as a contrast from its dull and well worn appearance.

"I am Loki -" He began, only to be interrupted immediately.

"The great Jabba has decided you have worth in the gladiator ring tonight, stay worthy in the name of the great Jabba and you shall prosper." All of it was said in a mechanical monotone voice, before the tray was thrust towards him through a gap in the cell door just large enough for the tray, a simple clay bowl with some brown sludge inside.

Loki took one look at the sludge and laughed, ignoring the tray sliding through its slot in the cell, the slot sliding shut behind it. As well, he ignored the being's continued jammering, choosing to speak up reiterating just what an important personage they mistakenly held. "You can tell this… Jabba, that he has a prince of Asgard in his cell, and if he has any kind of survival instinct, he'll prostrate himself before me post haste."

The mechanical being did not reply, simply continuing his droning spiel of which Loki had missed much to his annoyance, it was likely not important anyway, lesser beings did drone on about the most pointless things at times... " - Your slave collar will be fitted within the hour, then you will be taken to the arena, die gloriously in the name of the great Jabba."

With his piece said, the mechanical being started to walk away. Loki slammed his hands against the cell bars with futility, only managing to gather dust in his bowl of slop, "Slave collar!? Get back here you simpleton! I am LOKI!"

---

Even knowing sustenance would be important, Loki did not entertain eating that… Slop… That was provided for him. He had standards, and he had certainly gone further than a day without eating before, he was made of sturdier stuff than these primitive beings.

Instead, he waited and plotted. He wouldn't allow some pig creature to get the idea that Loki was its prisoner, he certainly would not entertain its delusion that he would be a slave.

Soon enough, came the sound of approaching primitives, the clanking of one of the metallic beings being followed by the shuffling gait of the pig beings. Behind them all was someone new. A being of a sickly color, with twin tails trailing from his bald alien head. How he was related with the pig beings, Loki was unsure, but he had the look of a supervisor of some sort. He certainly was dressed better than the loincloth sporting pig creatures.

Even if the robe and assorted leathers he appeared to be wearing under them seemed basic and cheaply made at best. What primitive world had he arrived in? And how could they afford manacles capable of inconveniencing him for a moment - yet not afford to dress better than paupers?

This is why Loki hated going outside Yggdrasil, the standards were just so low. There was no joy in a cunning plot when one was deceiving beings that just barely discovered bathing.

"You! Do not try anything off-worlder, the great Jabba is very interested in testing your mettle, it would be a shame to bring you to him with broken legs." The twin tailed one hissed at him, showing crooked teeth and a cruel gaze that made Loki feel like he'd returned to the Black order - was dental care truly so hard to achieve with the technology across the cosmos?

"I am Loki, prince of Asgard. This… Jabba, would be foolish to continue to treat me as one of you primitives, I hold a much greater value than you could ever imagine." Loki said, not at all bothered by the threats, that was just how people spoke to each other outside the golden halls of Asgard.

Loki had always found it both cute and endlessly irritating, like a small creature yapping at your feet for attention. It's not like they could ever actually do any of these pathetic threats, Loki was too clever and too powerful to fall to some primitives ploy.

The twin tailed one snorted, chortling out an ugly laugh, the pig creatures snuffling along in guttural laughter, likely too simple to understand anything but following along in their superiors actions, Loki thought. It amusedly reminded him of the Warriors three and their behavior around Thor. That one on the right could pass for the fat one, he was only missing a leg of meat in his hand.

"I'm sorry, did I perchance say something amusing?" Loki asked, a cold smile on his face, his fingers twitching slightly with the desire to wring their necks as their incessant laughter continued.

"The only value you hold, off-worlder, lies in how much of your valuable blood you can hold inside your body and for how long. The great Jabba will grow angry if you don't last at least ten minutes." Twin tails sneered at him, waving the pig creatures and the metallic being inside his cell, "Get that collar on him!" He snarled, kicking one of the pig creatures, drawing out a squeal.

Loki couldn't fathom how they thought he was defenseless just because his hands were manacled. As the metallic being approached with a collar, likely some crude explosive device - Loki slugged its head with a two handed strike, using the manacles themselves for extra heft in his striking power, the head of the metallic being crumpling in a metallic shriek without too much effort on Loki's part.

Definitely not Aesir graded constitution, that had been pitifully easy, Loki thought, sneering down at the dead metallic one.

"Put him down now and get that collar on! That droid was worth more than all your lives!" Twin tails shouted, bringing out a handle from his belt, thumbing a button that brought out some sort of energy discharge that took the form of a whip.

That looked entirely inefficient and wasteful, it would have been far simpler to have it take the shape of a baton or perhaps a sword, a spear for example would be much nicer and so much more useful, he thought. Loki imagined the fool had burnt himself severely learning how to utilize the ridiculous contraption.

Loki had already leaped ahead by this point, his powerful legs giving him enough power to easily traverse the small distance in the cell in the time it took the supervisor to activate his little toy, the first pig creature not even able to lift it's club in defense of its pitiful life before Loki was upon it, clubbing it over its head, the primitive creature showing no more constitution than the metallic being, falling dead to the floor, it's skull caved in.

None of these were comparable to the Aesir, they were ridiculously fragile. Loki wouldn't have someone left to interrogate if he didn't watch his strength. What a bother. He was greatly interested in hearing all about this Jabba… So that he could pay a visit and explain the reality of existence to him. How Loki was above him, and that was all that mattered to his pitiful existence.

The Twin tailed one struck out with his energy whip, shouting expletives at the same time, it was no matter for Loki to kick the remaining pig creature ahead of him to take the brunt of the whip, it's squeal bringing a smile to his face, even as the sizzling sound and the smell of cooking pork made him famished. With a twist if his hands, the pig creature was put out of its misery, Loki smirking at the Twin tailed one as he stalked forward, not concerned in the slightest for the energy whip, he'd seen the speed which the fool swung it at - it was nothing to Loki.

"Get back in your cell, the mighty Jabba can not be denied, you will die screaming and begging on your knees like a worm if you do not obey!" The twin tailed one screeched, the hesitance in the way he held the whip, the smell of fear in the air, the sweat dripping off him - Loki had nothing to fear from this coward. One so used to wielding the whip, he no longer understood how to react when it did not work. When he faced something… Superior.

"I have a better proposal, uncuff me. And I won't have to discover how you differ from other primitives by taking you apart piece by piece - I promise, it's quite excruciating." Loki said genially, strolling forward, his eyes shining with cruel glee at the abject fear he was inspiring.

"Fool! Activate the turrets!" A bellow came over a screeching communication system, Loki winced, spying the rusted speaker at the end of the hallway, how quaint.

Obviously he had nothing to worry about when it came to these creatures' technology.

The twin tailed one pressed a button on his arm, Loki almost upon him, when several turrets popped out of the wall and ceiling, unlike the rusty communication device - these were in much better condition, and all zeroed in on Loki.

"Ah, I might have been… Hasty." Loki said with a commiserating smile at the twin tailed one, raising his hands in the universal gesture for let's just all calm down, "I'm sure we can come to an equitable agreement, my friend, there is a lot I could teach you."

If only I had my seidr…. Loki thought, as the whip swung towards him, Loki stoically allowing it, his gaze burning with promised rewards to come for the indignity. The turrets were all the motivation he needed to stand still. Without his Seidr to weave illusions or shield himself, a simple primitive projectile or energy turret like what he saw before him, could actually be fatal.

This one will die in a way that songs will be written about his fate across the galaxies… He thought angrily, as he felt the sizzle against his skin, refusing on principle to make a noise - this was nothing compared to Thanos.

As the slave collar clicked on around his neck minutes later, he gritted his teeth, having to suppress a knee jerk reaction to rip the despicable beings head off, a vein pulsing in his forehead as he once again resisted his nature. That said …. Torture might be preferable then this humiliation… He thought, seeing the twin tailed one mocking him.

Loki was going to kill every single being that saw him wear this. And then every single being that was involved with creating the situation that saw this happen to him.

Then their neighbors if he found himself flush with time. Revenge wasn't a dish best served cold as some were fond of saying.

For all his cold calculation, Loki burned hot most of the time, and he had a different view on revenge.

Revenge was best served indiscriminately, making enough people suffer that no one would dare to ever again perform the action which led to him seeking vengeance.

Ideally…

Starting with whoever this Jabba was, that dared to presume someone like Loki would serve at his pleasure.

It was only a matter of time… Either his seidr would return, or he'd use his wit and cunning beforehand to find himself at the top.

These primitives' fate was sealed the moment they decided to irritate him.

That's all it was.

Irritation.

Another slash of the whip burned against his back, as the twin tailed one pushed him forward down the hallway.

… Irritation and perhaps a small iota of homicidal rage, Loki amended.

---

The thrum of energy above him disturbed Loki's meditations, one eyebrow twitched as dust and shards of rock fell into his hair.

"They can't even maintain their arena, if one should engage in bloodsport, the least they could do is ensure it is satisfactorily held together." He muttered, the burns from the whip already beginning to heal, the tiny flicker of Seidr within him not able to do much more.

The thumping of feet on rock, roars of the bloodthirsty crowd, the cry of some sort of wild beast in pain, Loki cared not one whit for any of it.

It reminded him far too much of sojourns with Thor. Forced to spend time with barbarians who's only use to the universe was to die amusingly.

Loki looked around the small sandstone warren they'd shut him in, meditation obviously a subpar activity with this much noise from up above.

They'd freed his hands at least, no doubt feeling secure due to the infernal collar they'd placed around his neck, the mere thought of it choking him, even if it wasn't that tight. It was what it represented that so irked him.

He was to be entertainment for lower lifeforms, he, the great Loki, was to be displayed for the unwashed masses, to duel in a battle to the death.

His long fingers stroked the single blade they'd allowed him, longer than his usual fare, made of some material he'd never encountered before. It was the length of a short sword, plain and unadorned, hardly fitting for his status, but he supposed he'd have to make due.

The crescendo of the crowds cries and groans indicated some sort of resolution had come upon the fight outside of his warren. The fools screaming their joy or their anger, likely betting their meager savings on such, as beings did across the cosmos for bloodsport.

Sometimes Loki wondered if he was alone in the universe, truly alone - because surely they couldn't all be like this?

He knew the Vanir were not, but they on the other hand went too far in the other direction. Was there truly no one that balanced on the knife's edge such as he?

Keeping a balance.

As a being of magic and physical combat, of learning and wit as well as brutality, of deceit and brilliance - never content with what is. Always looking for more.

Loki lamented his place as the only clever one in an existence of lower beings attuned only to their next drink, fornication or chance to bash heads.

The slab of stone blocking his warren at the edge of the circuitous arena rumbled.

They wanted a show? He thought…

He'd give them a show!

Even as the stone slowly rumbled to the side, Loki stepped forward, and pushed, his superior strength enough to overcome the simple mechanism that moved the stone, sending it rolling away, the crowd erupting in racocous cheer at the sight.

Loki stepped through, a superior sneer on his face, twirling his sword expertly in his right hand.

The circular arena was a simple pit of sand, there were hundreds of beings raised up beyond the stone walls of the arena, sitting on nothing but slabs of rock. Loki felt a sting of unease as he looked around, even if he showed not one sign of it.

He must be far from home indeed, to see dozens of species he'd never heard of or seen before.

A tower rose above the mere stone slabs that seated the common rabble, Loki faced it, his face going into a rictus of hatred.

That giant blob of a being… That worm! Must be the Jabba that dared to inflict this indignity on his person.

And he didn't even show up in person! Some low tech hologram instead showed the large being up on a viewing gallery on the tower.

… Did this… Insignificant worm, this filthy, unevolved lifeform… Start Loki in the minor leagues of death matches!

How dare he show such insult!

Sending another critical look around the arena, he noted the attire of those present, the lack of proper seats, lack of concessions… These were… Worker drones, they probably barely paid admittance to watch Loki fight.

This was intolerable!

People should not pay a pittance to see the magnificence of Loki! They should be spending their life savings for a simple glimpse! Did they truly not see him for what he was? What kind of backwater planet had he ended up on?

He raised his sword towards Jabba, "Filthy worm! I demand you do better! This hole is no match for I, Loki!" He did a flourish with his sword, raising his arms to the crowd, "Rejoice, you all have had the pleasure of being in my presence, you court only death if this insult continues however…"

He sunk the sword into the sand, staring up defiantly at the worm that had brought him here, "I refuse to accede to this pitiful arena and this lackluster show, If I must do this, I, of all beings, should be your prize fighter." He declared haughtily.

If nothing else, it would get him closer to that worm, so that he could get out of this collar and showcase his displeasure.

The crowd who had been quiet, seemingly lost for words at his grand declaration, suddenly erupted in noise. Loki only had eyes for Jabba, who appeared to be chuckling, his stubby arms pressing something.

Loki felt the beginnings of an electric shock just as some sort of rotten fist sized fruit smacked into the side of his face, thrown from the crowd, the juices and pulp staining his armor, even as the reek almost made him gag - the fact he was falling to the sand, convulsing, likely hindering his ability to vomit in the moment.

"He believes he is strong, let him fight them!" Jabba laughed as he continued to stab the button, Loki glaring up at him even as he convulsed.

The worm would rue making Loki his enemy. Rue!

Another twin tail being, one actually up there in person, asked the hologram something his head bowed in supplication. Jabba roared in laughter, waving his stubby arms. Finally releasing Loki.

"Which ones you ask? Hohoho, let this champion face them all!" Jabba crooned, an obscenely large tongue flicking out to lick his large lips.

Loki twitched as several warrens began opening at the same time. He slowly climbed to his feet, a still twitching hand grabbing the hilt of the sword.

The crowd was still throwing things at him, Loki would ensure he found out the name of this hovel of a town, so he could return and show them his displeasure at a later date.

Right now… He had other things to worry about.

"I may have miscalculated." Loki said slowly to himself, as a dozen creatures took the field, as well as a trio of humanoid beings covered head to toe with funny looking masks on and wielding staffs.

The three humanoids let out some sort of primitive battle cry or mating call, (he was hardly an expert on these simple creatures) before raising their weapons, which gave Loki a slight reprieve as most of the creatures growled and focused on them instead of Loki.

Loki smirked, as always the cunning silent snake benefitted, while the loud boar (Thor) would find himself swarmed.

His smirk fell as the beasts fell upon the humanoids and promptly tore them apart to great cheers of the onlooking crowd, all of the beasts turning his way, two of them who'd homed in on him at first already getting within striking distance.

Yes… He thought, raising his sword. I might have miscalculated slightly.

---

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

Having made a Panacea SI that is taking the circuitous route to villainy, I also did a little drabble here of one that's a lot more interested in heading straight downhill.

So basically a crazy Amy from the word go in Worm.

Enjoy, and if anyone wants to pick any of my snippets up and make a story of it, knock yourself out, please ask first though!

---

Amy Dallon, what a character… She took a deep drag of her cigarette, uncaring of the chilly air, the beginning of winter falling upon Brockton Bay, it was coming early this year, it wasn't even Halloween quite yet. She tilted her head upwards, eyes closed, feeling the tiny snowflakes hit her face.

She was supposed to be working right now, supposed to be healing, helping, sacrificing more and more of herself - she was supposed to be a lot of different things…

Mostly very unhappy with everything and everyone, if she remembered things correctly from a grim story once read. She felt a wide grin pulling at her lips, pulling on unused muscles, as she inhaled another lungful of smoke, uncaring of the consequences of her little break. What were they going to do? Stop using her as a healbot?

She snorted, the sound carrying across the empty rooftop, as if!

She flicked some ash off her cigarette, the tiny particles flying away over the edge, she idly wondered what anyone would think, seeing her standing here like this. On the very edge of the roof, with just one easy step the difference between having problems, and problems being solved permanently.

Panacea? Suicidal? Why? Her life was so great! She snorted again, having to hold back a full out belly laugh at that thought, remembering the great deeds the future had held. How great the life of Amy Dallon had turned out.

Yes, she was definitely utterly stable. No doubt!

Well…

She was better than the original, surely? She flicked her cigarette butt away, letting it fall down to the hospital parking lot below. At least she had no intention of sexually assaulting her sister…

The aura was a weak ass excuse from a fucked up girl, using her broken mind to excuse any action, no matter how heinous.

Not that she necessarily had much against some regular heinousness…

"Of all the dingy little hospitals, in all the universes, of all the various bodies and minds of messed up people - I had to walk into this one…" She murmured to herself, almost playfully.

You couldn't get much worse than Worm, if you were to randomly bodyjack someone. But if you absolutely had to pick the setting, Panacea wouldn't have been her first, second, or fortieth choice.

Girl had issues.

And while she could now theoretically avoid some of those…

Amy Dallon was in the center of a lot of shit. And was unfortunately important to the plot.

She huffed, her breath visible in the chilly air, I'm basically dead already, so another life? Why bother with what's going to happen, I can't control it…

She slowly moved back towards the entrance to the roof, picking up her lightly snow covered burqa/superhero outfit on the way, sliding it on. She'd do Cauldron a solid, let them know of Eidolon and his accidental hard on for murdering the world - as long as he looked like a good little hero trying to stop it… What happened after that?

Panacea pulled the white hood with the well known red cross over her head, snow falling down onto the steps as she made it down the stairs, well, the rest isn't my problem, is it?

Unlike the original Amy, she didn't intend to be boring then suddenly batshit. She had a new body, a cool power to play with, and consequences didn't really matter anymore. So maybe not full on batshit - but why not have a little fun? Fuck with everyone a bit…

Whether Endbringers stopped coming or not, they'd all be dead in two years and some spare change anyway. Whatever she'd do while having fun, it would irrevocably alter things, maybe even butterfly away Skitter.

She doubted she could keep canon on track for the absolute ass pull that Khepri was, she'd change too much just by being herself. Nothing said she'd be around for unlocking Khepri, if that even happened.

So maybe things would actually get better? Or maybe they'd all die even harder?

Who knew?

Still…

Two years and some change to do whatever she wanted?

Not a bad deal for someone that died after years of being locked inside their own body, wishing, begging for death rather than the slow withering away of her psyche due to disease.

Watching as her family slowly abandoned her, not able to handle seeing her as she was. An already rotted corpse that just didn't have the decency to die already.

Two years of fun before dying?

That sounded like a great deal! Her grin was no doubt a bit on the wild side, as she exited the stairwell, into the hospital proper, a bit of a pep in her step.

"Uh… P-Pan-Panacea?" A young orderly with dark bags under her eyes drew Amy's attention as she stammered her way into trying to ask something. Looking freaked out about something.

Amy smiled again, trying to set the girl at ease.

She must be doing something different with her facial muscles, she thought, as the orderly squeaked, and ran down the corridor, babbling something.

Well, she hadn't been able to smile for years, so maybe she just needed practice again. She had the original Amy's depressing memories, but this whole body control thing wasn't as intuitive as she'd expected.

Apparently, the original Amy hadn't had a lot of practice at grinning either. She'd have to work on it. It fit with her recollection of the story, Amy had been a bitter little gremlin hadn't she?

She grinned at a cute security guard as she neared emergency intake, where her minder would most likely be hovering, hoping to find her. Inwardly she was frowning as the older man blanched visibly at the sight of her happy grin.

She couldn't be looking that odd, could she? Surely someone saw Amy happy at some point? Otherwise that was just… Pathetically sad.

Before she could ask the man what exactly about her smile was so unnerving, or ask for a mirror, one of the doctors that usually 'worked' with her - for a given value of the word worked - approached her, looking ruffled.

Dr. Martinez was a middle aged latina woman, with a constantly pinched look to her features, her graying hair kept in a bun, but always somehow having frizzy hair escaping and sticking out all over the place, giving her a harried look.

She was also very annoying about following her around, in case her medical knowledge was needed.

Despite the grand total of zero times Amy had needed to ask her anything, what with her power giving her an intuitive feel for everything biological.

"Panacea! Where have you been?" She said hurriedly as she got close, arms full of patients' charts, "God knows you deserve a break, but you have to let us know so that we can find you! What if we had an emergency?"

Amy raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing her arms under her unfortunately modest bust. "Well you do have to use that medical license now and then." She said blithely, walking past the stressed out woman, "This is a hospital, so you could probably do it without me holding your hand." She continued sarcastically as she passed.

Honestly! She wasn't even paid, would it kill them to do some work while she took a smoke break?

Dr. Martinez blinked owlishly at her, before scrambling to fall in step as Amy continued walking, "Panac- No, Amy… Are you okay?" She asked hesitantly.

Amy giggled, finding the woman's worry upon seeing her smiling, hilarious in a way, as none of them had worried when she'd been an obvious ball of angst and depression, "Wow, some teenage attitude is enough to worry you?" She rolled her shoulders, feeling a little bit more settled with her new body the more she moved, "I've repressed myself a lot…" She thought out loud, wondering how on earth the original had managed the stress of trauma medicine while keeping everything bottled up.

Regular doctors burned out all the time, and they didn't have to actually see the damage down to the cellular level of a rape victim when they worked on them. Healing really wasn't a good outlet for Panacea's power - it was just too depressing and self defeating.

She distinctly remembered snarkiness or outright bitchiness at times from the story in regards to her original's behavior. But perhaps it was not so much directed towards the staff where she worked? Pity that. Maybe they'd have left her alone more if she'd done so.

Maybe she'd have clued in to how healing everyone over and over again did nothing good for her…

Dr. Martinez eyed her oddly, but seemed willing to let it go, for the small favor of dumping a ton of work on her, starting to blather on about the charts in her arms.

Apparently the onset of winter hadn't been enough to cool the blood of the absolute blockheads that inhabited Brockton Bay. The charts she was carrying - almost exclusively belonged to gang members.

Amy wasn't sure she even wanted to continue with this hospital crap, but she allowed herself to be led towards said poor gangbangers, all of them suffering from gunshot wounds or broken bones.

BBPD officers were in plentiful attendance, all of them watching the moaning, idiotic, gangbangers attentively, with a mien of grim satisfaction. Said idiots were all handcuffed to their beds, the cops all keeping one hand near their gun holsters at all times even then.

Amy wanted to bang her head against a wall. They put ABB and Empire goons…. In the same treatment room? Why? To not split up the BBPD? That's still moronic. And it said something about the amount of casualties a Brockton Bay hospital could count on regularly, that they had emergency rooms with space to house almost twenty gangbangers in one large room off to the side.

She was kind of glad that even though moving around took a second to get fully used to, mentally, that she remembered everything about using her power. It would be beyond embarrassing to fail utterly at healing in front of all these people.

Too bad she couldn't really test her power's limits. Not with these many witnesses anyway. Although… Could she give the goons super cancer? It's not like anyone here could see into the patient's bodies…

Except… They'd all be dead in two years anyway, so why bother with cancer if she couldn't make it immediately terminal - which probably would get her bitched at, or press ganged into the wards to avoid a charge at the very least.

So something less obviously evil then… Something fun…

"Finally! What the fuck is your bullshit excuse for why you took you so long, bitch!?" An empire goon, absolutely covered in swastikas, bellowed from his bed, his large bulldog-like face squinting angrily in Amy's direction.

She'd like to say he was just unusually aggressive, but her memories told her that a decent amount of criminals she 'had' to heal due to her own messed up code of ethics - weren't exactly pleasant about it. Despite the utter insanity in trying to piss off the healer.

Perhaps the Nazis were a little cocky due to Othala being a good backup for their more worthy members. The ABB members usually weren't as much of an issue as the Nazi's. Or perhaps everyone in Brockton Bay had realized just how much of a pussy Panacea had really been - scared of her own power, of her own mind, of doing anything.

"I was fucking your mom." Amy said automatically in response to the asshole, continuing forward even as everyone in the room literally froze. She eyed them oddly. It was almost like seeing some sort of time power in use, they were all, even the police officers, staring at her. Seriously, she snarked before as the original, she knew she had. So she was a little more openly antagonistic now, so what?

"Figures you'd be a dyke." The Nazi spat out, once he got over the shock, beady little eyes glaring angrily at her, "My mom would fuck you up for even saying that shit!"

"That's enough, Larson!" The grizzled old officer standing next to his bed barked out, having overcome his temporary surprise at Amy's language. He grimaced as he turned towards Amy, "Perhaps best to do him first if you don't mind, he's the leader of this pack of idiots, the sooner we take him out of here the better."

Amy shrugged, uncaring of who she healed first, although she had her own ideas as well, what did she care if she got sued for it. Two year time limit after all until the world ceases to be, appeals would keep that shit away until they were all dead anyway.

Or she'd just go villain, and good luck collecting…

"Do I have your permission to use my power on you?" She asked the Nazi goon, smiling a saccharine sweet smile, that seemed to throw the burly man off, sweat appearing on his brow as he leaned back slightly in his bed as if to get away from her. She'd deliberately changed how she phrased her question too, substituting healing for power.

"....Fine…" He said after a few moments of silence, not nearly as mouthy all of a sudden.

Amy laid a hand on his wrist, her world expanding suddenly, she could see everything, feel everything. It would be so…. Easy… To just tweak something. A millisecond of work, oh she couldn't wait to experiment for real. See what she could really do to someone.

Her mind was already whirling with the things she could do to bacteria, or perhaps she could craft a virus or alter a drug to bypass her restrictions on working on herself. The possibilities were endless.

She was an old hand at healing already of course - following along with her memories, so the gunshot wound in his leg healed up without an issue, she barely had to put any thought into it, she didn't even need to shift any biomass from his oversized gut either, the injury was small enough he'd just need to eat well enough to replace the proteins she'd utilized.

It was a simple few seconds to really change things. Move away from passive heal bitch Panacea - the person who healed the gang that killed her family member, who healed Lung - the unrepentant sex trafficking bastard - without protest.

She heard the gasps across the room, the cursing from suddenly freaking out Nazis in the other beds, the officers rushing to contain them, the laughing from the ABB goons, as she took her hand off the goon, wearing a self satisfied smile.

"What the fuck did you do you crazy bitch!?" Nazi goon number one yelled, horrified, staring down at his hands, fruitlessly pulling at the cuffed one, looking like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.

Amy smiled innocently, eyes alight with schadenfreude. "Oh, it seems you have a genetic marker that activated erroneously when I healed your injury, it set off a pigment change. It's unfortunate, but you're healed now, so I have no reason to see to you any longer."

A skin color change isn't an injury, my work is done. She thought with amusement. Panacea didn't do cosmetic work for criminals after all.

The grizzled officer was covering his face with his hand, but Amy could see the large smirk he was hiding, not able to help himself no doubt, a criminal finally getting some just desserts right in front of him. He probably saw these kinds of guys walk in and out of jail all the time.

This time… It would probably be crueler to just release the guy onto the street… Preferably in his own neighborhood… See it from a different angle, that's karma right there.

"A thank you wouldn't be amiss." She chided the now black man, the tattoo's all dissolved as well, while the pigment of his skin changed. Perhaps she should have kept them. It would have been interesting to see a black man with those kinds of tattoos try and make a living in Brockton Bay.

Heh, make a living. Like Kaiser would allow him to walk around after this. She didn't feel an iota of remorse, a dead Nazi was the only good Nazi. It's not like he'd have an issue with beating on a black man any day of the week, so really, he shouldn't have an issue being beaten up as a black man either. Since the color of the skin was all that mattered, right?

She doubted him or his buddies would realize the deeper stupidity in racism out of this, but hey, at least she killed a Nazi without even doing much. She was already doing better work than most heroes in Brockton Bay ever did.

Dr. Martinez pulled Amy away by her sleeve as the entire room erupted in even more noise, the burly Nazi just staring down at his hands in shock as his comrades screamed threats and expletives towards Amy.

Really, how rude, she'd just healed their comrade. A bit of appreciation wouldn't be amiss, right? She flexed her fingers, smiling at the goons, wondering if she could get away with a couple more 'happy accidents'. Dr. Martinez interrupted her however.

"Panacea! What did you do!?" She whispered urgently, eyes flickering between the different officers, teeth gnawing on her lower lip nervously. "You can't just… You can't!"

Amy looked on in interest, focusing on the officers, taking a wild guess where the latina docs nervousness was stemming from. You could tell a lot by the body language of the BBPD. About half of the officers were having trouble hiding their pleasure at the change, or weren't even trying to hide it, a certain smugness there in their movements and expressions. The other half… They were pretty angry on the behalf of an Empire goon for some reason, shooting her some looks. And not the friendly kind of looks.

And wouldn't you know it. The angry half happened to be white. Coincidence, she was sure. Corrupt cops are like the lowest end of problems in Brockton Bay, sadly enough. She thought, not really caring about whether some cops had a beef with her or not. She'd have to piss off Kaiser a lot more before they'd dare touch her.

And if she was wrong..?

Well… She didn't have any compunctions on releasing some super virus cobbled up half assedly if they started aiming guns at her. After all, she'd be immune to it. Her power, like most powers, protected her from any kind of biological effect.

Far as she was concerned, she was Amy first, Amy second - and so on into infinity.

It was remarkably easy to disregard the consequences of killing when you knew they were all likely dead soon anyway. When you knew that your own death was likely in just a few years no matter what you did. Really, a perfect time to be a nihilist.

"I healed him." Amy said distractedly to Dr. Martinez, watching as a trio of officers approached her. The doctor staring helplessly at the now changed man having a quiet breakdown in his bed.

Not so tough now, huh? She thought smugly at him. Not bothering to dial down her smugness as the cops approached her.

"Panacea, you need to fix him." The oldest cop, a man with white beginning to creep up the sides of his military style cropped hair, said sternly, glaring at her with absolutely no compunctions about facing down a cape.

Then again, with her reputation, it wasn't like anyone was actually scared of her.

Yet.

Amy hummed, shaking her head, her frizzy hair falling into her face, she idly swept it out of her eyes, "I mean, I guess you could shoot him again." She mused out loud, pursing her lips. Not even bothering to hide her amusement. "Then I could heal him since he'd be injured, but right now." She smiled beatifically at the cops, "There's nothing wrong with him."

She needed a mirror stat, there was definitely something wrong with her smile, as the two younger men flinched at the sight.

"Turn. Him. Back." The cop said slowly, his two colleagues both stepping forward, looming over her at some unseen signal from the hidden Nazi cop.

Amy scoffed, even as Dr. Martinez nervously backed away, gnawing at her lip worryingly, "I don't do cosmetic work for Empire 88 lowlifes." I'll happily remove your dicks if you keep crowding me though… Amy thought, fingers twitching again, the Shaper shard must be getting off pretty hard with how much her thoughts were spiraling towards what she could change, create, destroy…

The new her wasn't nearly as limited as the depressed bundle of mental problems Amy had been.

Only the fact she'd definitely be birdcaged if she just let loose right here and now - which would ruin all her fun - prevented her from just reaching over and shaping these pricks into something more interesting.

"I could arrest you for assault with a parahuman power." The old cop threatened menacingly as Amy continued to smile pleasantly at him, unbothered. Or he attempted it anyway, he wasn't very menacing to Amy, but she was sure a regular vanilla human would be scared. Dr. Martinez certainly seemed terrified enough.

Pussy. She thought, with a scoff.

Amy gave the old cop some imaginary points in her head though, he was really good at the whole bad cop thing for normies, had all the right body language, the inflection of his voice, his looming presence, the hint of aggression in his eyes. Too bad it was aimed at her, and she couldn't give less of a crap. She tilted her head, smiling toothily, one of the cops taking a step back unconsciously at the sight. "I healed him already. I can't really do anything about him having an allergic reaction to my power, hardly assault."

She somehow got all that out with a straight face. Not even one giggle. The sour looks of the cops made it even better.

Oh, the amount of ways she could mess with people!

"He does not have an allergy to your power." Was grit out slowly by the cop, his teeth clenched together tightly, he was remarkably red in the face as well, apparently he wasn't used to not getting his way, or was just an angry man deep down. Considering he apparently either sympathized with Nazis, or was one, probably a mix of both, leaning heavily on the side of being an angry, angry, little man inside.

Amy could tell just by a glance that he had cardiovascular issues, she didn't even need a touch to diagnose it, she'd seen it enough. Not her problem though, healing everyone was past Amy, not the new and improved Amy.

She was more into healing by excising the rot…

Amy tapped her lower lip with one finger slowly, purposefully taking her time to answer, "Oh, you're also a healing cape? That's pretty awesome, I could use a hand at the hospital." She chirped brightly, fluttering her eyelashes in a coquettish way which was entirely un-Panacea like. I wonder if I can wind him up so far he'll actually arrest me?

She'd never been to jail before, a night or two in lockup might be interesting.

"What, no? I'm not a cape!?" He hissed out. Behind him Amy could see the other veteran officer approaching, having left the newly blacked Nazi thug behind with one of the junior officers. The man was actually crying. Pathetic. Just for a little pigment change… She was sure he hadn't worried about tears when he beat up minorities or a lot worse.

Truly, Amy was karma in the flesh, Brockton Bay could use a good dose of karmic retribution. Earth Bet in its entirety could to be honest. They could use alien supercomputers messing with their brain as an excuse all they wanted, they're still just all dicks.

She was one too, to be sure, but not because of any alien supercomputers. She was one all on her own. She was an honest dick.

"Then how would you know how he would, or wouldn't, react to my power?" Amy asked sweetly, having a blast with this, needling the cop further.

She'd probably get sued, which would piss Carol off.

So…

Bonus!

She idly wondered if she could somehow tailor a virus or something to change the pigment of all the Empire goons in Brockton. Probably too difficult, she acknowledged quickly, there were plenty of white people who weren't racist pieces of shit in town after all.

Still didn't stop the thought from being funny. She could imagine the horrified look on the faces of the likes of Hookwolf or Krieg.

If the PRT called her in to heal any Empire capes… She was definitely blacking them from now on!

Once you go black, you never go back! She thought, giggling inwardly, because it fit. No Empire cape or goon would go to her for healing now. Not voluntarily.

"Goodison? Is there a problem?" Came the mildly censoring voice of the grizzled officer as he walked up next to them.

"Assault with a Parahuman power, sir." Goodison said slowly, his fists clenched at his sides. "Just explaining the situation to Panacea, here."

"Assault? The medical expert said it was due to a predisposition." His eyes flickered to Amy, some humor visible in the depths.

"She's obviously lying." Goodison growled out at his colleague, a sneer twisting his visage, making the somewhat handsome older man - plain ugly.

"I'm not arresting Panacea on your superior medical knowledge, Goodison." The grizzled cop said, shaking his head, he looked towards Amy, "Are you ready to heal the rest of them?" He asked politely. Something shark-like in his smile.

A cacophony of noise erupted again as her healing was vehemently refused by everyone present, even the ABB goons apparently suddenly felt just fine. Willing to heal from their wounds the slow way rather than risk her healing.

She pouted. Meanies, it's not like she'd turn them black… There were plenty of other things she could do after all, it wouldn't do to keep things stale. Besides, it wasn't nearly as funny to turn Asian sex traffickers black… Now turning them into pretty young girls to replace the actual victims of their trade… Food for thought for the future. She smiled viciously at them, the ABB goons getting louder in their vehemence to avoid healing.

"I guess it's not needed." Amy chirped at the officers, a smug smirk on her face, Dr. Martinez looked at her like she'd seen a ghost, before she rushed off somewhere, her patients' charts clattering to the ground.

"Guess not." The veteran officer agreed, sighing in a put upon manner.

Goodison and his lackeys looked apocalyptic, but held their tongues. It was true after all, the patients were all refusing treatment. And there was nothing physically wrong with the black man sharing a room with skinheads and sex trafficking scum, so her hands were tied. Really. Cross her heart and hope to die and everything.

She's Panacea, who wouldn't trust this freckled innocent face…

Amy waved goodbye to the goons, smiling brightly at them, "Keep me in mind for your future healing needs." She called out, barely holding in a laugh.

She walked away with a pep in her step.

Being Amy Dallon didn't have to be suffering.

She could have fun with it.

That thought lasted half an hour.

Then the Protectorate foamed her.

Obviously they hated fun.

Dicks.

---

The Rig, Brockton Bay

Amy supposed she should have seen it coming. She wasn't exactly bothering with even trying to act normal. Because normal Amy was fucking depressing.

Apparently several staff members at the hospital had phoned the PRT with concerns almost immediately, which initially hadn't been taken overly serious, but that changed when Dr. Martinez reported her odd behavior and her 'healing' of the Nazi.

So now she was in M/S screening, sitting in a cell, although a nice enough one, with her own attached bathroom, a nice sized bed and a desk, a monitor built into the wall letting her watch T.V, even if she couldn't choose her own channels.

She approved of the torture methods of the PRT, because surely there could be no other reason than torture to be playing children's shows in her cell. She's sixteen. Not five.

Foaming her had been a bit excessive though in her opinion. It's not like she could have really fought back against the Protectorate. Well… Not without going to excessive lengths anyway.

Unfortunately the shows she was allowed to watch did not include the local news. She would have liked to see what the public perception of Panacea being foamed and brought into the Rig like a prisoner was like.

She was also slightly surprised Carol wasn't here already. Or if she was, she wasn't achieving much. Which again, surprising. Because she sucked as a human being, as a superhero and as a mother, but she was a decent enough lawyer. Figures she wouldn't even be able to use her only good quality.

She didn't really feel bad about her situation. At most, they could berate her for turning someone's pigment black. Good luck proving that was on purpose without another healer. And no, Othala didn't count.

She seriously doubted they'd be able to tell she was a new person, what with her still having all the memories and skills of the old one. Thinkers weren't that much bullshit. And they certainly weren't psychic.

They couldn't afford to alienate her either, so really, this entire thing was kind of… Pointless. At least she kind of got to experience what being arrested was - even if it wasn't the full experience. So that was neat.

If they really thought she was mastered or something, they'd be going at this harder. So they were likely counting on how passive original Amy had been to let all this blow over while pushing her towards the wards. Seeing the opportunity and taking it, like the dumb black and white behemoth of an organization they'd appeared like in Canon.

Good luck arguing that to Carol. Amy was a minor. She'd gladly leave that bullshit to her 'mom' because there was no way she'd shuck her into the wards anyway. She had opinions on the PRT and the Protectorate, there was a reason New Wave had tried to go their own way.

She tilted her head towards the one way window in curiosity, hearing someone on the other side albeit muffled, the window covered a whole wall of her cell, opposite her bed, it wasn't exactly a very private cell with anyone able to watch her, but she assumed that was normal for M/S screening. She could hear the speaker system turn on seconds later. So who's the lucky one that's supposed to 'reign' her back in? She wondered.

The window, which had been opaque, turned clear all of a sudden, letting her see through to the other side, showing Armsmaster on the other side, in full uniform, with Gallant at his side, also fully decked out.

Amy made a face, snorting derisively as she turned away demonstratively.

Armsmaster was literally the dumbest choice for any social fu. And to bring her sister's boyfriend in as well to 'check' her responses? That was just asking for trouble.

"Panacea. Do you have an explanation for your odd behavior earlier this evening?" Armsmaster asked clinically, no doubt scanning her with everything he had, probably already had that lie detector too, although perhaps not fully operational yet.

They weren't quite at Canon yet. Some months to go.

"I'm a teenager." Amy answered back scathingly. "If you find mood swings, being ill tempered and irritable and tired of bullshit - as odd teenage girl behavior…" She scoffed loudly, crossing her arms, eying Armsmaster with open scorn, "Then I guess we have an answer to the question of if you ever honestly talked to a girl." Yeah, bub, I just called you a virgin.

Armsmaster seemed unaffected by her diabrete, instead turning slightly towards Gallant, the silence expectant.

Gallant sighed, looking ill at ease to be included in this. For good reason too, Amy was fairly certain Vicky would lose her crap over this whole situation, especially as she'd make sure to paint herself as the innocent victim to PRT overreach and overreaction when she'd speak to her next.

"I'm not feeling anything odd from her. Irritation, anger, disgust." He hung his shoulders slightly, drooping a bit, "It's… Fairly normal for her." he tried to sound apologetic. Boy scout probably meant it too. Amy gave him the finger, uncaring of his feelings.

She'd probably end up keeping Vicky's boytoy alive as a favor, because Vicky probably was the only one that unconditionally loved her in this world. But that didn't mean she would have to like him.

"You know… I'm a minor. I've asked for my lawyer. Is this all even legal?" Amy stated to the ceiling, looking straight up, kicking her feet in the air from where she sat on the bed. They'd even taken her clothes, giving her annoyingly scratchy ones in exchange. No doubt testing her clothes as well, she briefly wondered with some scorn if Armsmaster had been brought in to scan her underwear.

She should ask him at some point. Preferably one day on the outside, with the press standing nearby.

Armsmaster nodded his head minisculely, "M/S screening has to, by design, override most of the laws you are referring to. Or it wouldn't work to contain the issue."

Amy frowned, she wasn't a law expert for all that Carol was a lawyer. But something about that seemed off. She wasn't sure Armsmaster was telling the whole truth. She eyed Gallant, who squirmed under her sudden focus.

"You're lying, or withholding information, one of the two." She said finally, turning from Gallant to Armsmaster, her eyes narrowed in accusation.

"Let's get back to your behavior." Armsmaster rolled right over her accusation without a hitch, voice still calm, "Why did you change the coloration of Gerald Larson's skin?"

Amy snorted, falling back onto her bed, arms splayed out, sure, because just ignoring my question surely means you're completely truthful, she thought sarcastically. She turned her head in their direction, "Would you believe me if I told you that he had a genetic condition that caused the change when I used my powers?" She asked with quirked lips.

"No." Armsmaster said after a momentary pause, no doubt recording everything through his armor and receiving instructions through his visor. It would explain the brief pauses.

Amy chuckled, turning back to staring up at the ceiling, "Then to your question, my answer is, no comment." She quipped.

"That is not acceptable. We need you to take this seriously, Panacea." Armsmaster said sternly, "You could be facing a charge of assault."

Gallant reluctantly spoke up again after another overbearing glance from Armsmaster. "Amy… This will go easier if you just explain, I'm sure you had a good reason, but we need to know, so they can rule out some things."

"The Gallant knight coming to the rescue." Amy drawled sarcastically, she glanced at him from out of the corner of her eye from where she was laying, "Doesn't it get tiring, Dean? To constantly force yourself to be so nice. Especially when Armsmaster is basically using you, and you're letting him, just going with the flow - who cares if it's legal or not? That's obviously not important."

"I don't have to force myself to be nice, Amy. I care, and I just want to make sure you're okay." Gallant said softly, he stopped closer to the no longer opaque window separating the cell and them, "They just need to know, then this is all over and you can go home." His voice was almost soothing, she could definitely see why Vicky went gaga about him at times. Not her type though. Way too passive.

She needed a guy or girl with balls, someone not afraid to take charge or meet her halfway at least. At least Amy hadn't come out as a lesbian yet, so she could get away with being Bi without drawing attention to more changes.

Amy snorted loudly, uncaring how it made her look, "Uh-huh, just straight home, without seeing a lawyer, without an explanation for my forced incarceration. M/S screening could be used to apply to anything."

"Amy… It is… Uncharacteristic of you to mess up while healing. People are just worried." Gallant tried again, while Armsmaster stood still like a statue next to him. Recording and picking apart everything no doubt.

With Gallant reading her every emotion and writing up a full report after this, like a bitch.

"I think you're full of shit." Amy said causticaly, not even looking at them anymore. "I show a bit of attitude and you guys foam me and put me through M/S screening. No lawyer, no phone call, no one from my family allowed in apparently, because I refuse to believe no one showed up - you don't really believe I've been mastered or something…" She scoffed, shaking her head against the sheets of her bed, "Makes me wonder what you're really after…"

Armsmaster opened his mouth to rebut her, and she just continued on, smirking nastily. "Perhaps you just saw a chance at pushing me towards the wards with some lame threat of arrest. I asked the Nazi whether he'd allow me to use my power on him, he said yes. Case closed."

"It doesn't work like that. You've endangered a man's life, we can't ignore that." Armsmaster stated, sounding a bit colder now. And was that a hint of frustration in your tone, Colin? Amy thought smugly.

"A Nazi. Are you the great defender of Nazis now, Dean?" She said glibly, focusing on the weaker link, inwardly preening at seeing him flinch. Yeah, wait until Vicky hears that one, you fuck!

So she'd keep him alive if she could, but it didn't mean she needed to work to keep him comfortable. Vicky and him could use another break up anyway.

"Don't try and deflect, Panacea. Gallant is simply here to ascertain that your emotions have not been altered, you are speaking to me." Armsmaster said with some censure, he turned towards Gallant, clippedly ordering, "You may leave, you're a distraction at the moment and you've already achieved your purpose."

Wow, blunt much, Colin? Amy thought, seeing Gallant hesitate for a moment, before he nodded slightly Amy's way, and turned to leave.

"Say hi to Vicky for me." Amy threw out nastily as a parting shot, Gallant flinching on his way out the door.

"That was unkind of you. As was your behavior at the hospital. There is a reason for our concern, Panacea." Armsmaster droned on, Amy had already lost interest really. Nothing new was likely to come up. Not until she was either let go, or Carol badgered her way in.

"An unkind teenager." Amy drawled, "Stop the presses, this is obviously more important for the Protectorate then Lung or Kaiser." She leaned forward on her elbows so she was half sitting/half lying down, eyeing the tinker. "You seriously don't have anything better to do? Either charge me or let me go."

There was a crackle to the speaker system, Armsmaster sighing visibly, but he didn't say another word. Someone else spoke up instead through the system.

"A charge for parahuman assault is already being filed by the defendant in this case." Director Piggot said seriously, taking over the conversation from Armsmaster.

Amy chuckled darkly, "So quickly, huh? Almost like the BBPD was helping him write it up…" She eyed Armsmaster, eyes glittering with distaste, "Or is that your ploy? The PRT is assisting this upstanding citizen?"

"We have not assisted him, no. That doesn't change the facts of this case. You purposely turned a white supremacist black, risking his life." Piggot said bluntly, "While also stirring up trouble in the entire city as your previously trusted healing now comes into doubt."

Panacea had been somewhat of a boon for the city as a whole, she knew. Injuries to heroes and civilians and even the villains to a certain extent - disappearing overnight due to her efforts.

Now, that healing wouldn't be as trusted. Such a loss for me, really. She thought sarcastically.

Amy flopped back down on the bed, a wry smile on her face, "Purposely? That's been proven when? I don't remember saying that?" She needled lightly.

"Do not take me for a fool, Panacea." Piggot said coldly, "I don't care for your reasons on why you did it, I only care about the consequences thereof."

"The Wards program would insulate you from these kinds of charges, the PRT backing you would ensure they would amount to, at the most, a fine." Armsmaster interjected, sounding oddly insistent for him. It was weird, it wasn't like his reputation would really change from her being recruited. What glory was there to find there?

"Minor, remember. You're not getting that one past my mother." Amy said, making a face at having to acknowledge Carol as her parent.

"There are ways to induct minors in trouble with the law even without parental approval - in special cases." Director Piggot said shortly, "You would do well to think on that, this charge will not go away easily, and the reception you'll find in the bay as a criminal will not be pleasant." She warned, Armsmaster nodding along stiffly when Amy glanced over, although he looked slightly uncomfortable.

Probably because of all the lying he's ordered to go along with… Or so she assumed, because no way was that shit legal. Press ganging a minor into the wards without parental approval wouldn't fly in court. If they were an orphan, maybe…

Huh, how legal were the adoption papers for her? Could she technically be considered an orphan if that got unraveled?

"You aren't actually serious? You're trying to make me a ward. Behind New Waves back? Oh… This is hilarious." Amy said, a smile slowly growing on her face, discarding the thought of her adoption papers, it was unlikely to get that far anyway.

She knew Piggot, Armsmaster and the PRT always shot themselves in the foot in canon, but she hadn't expected that reality would quite match that. Either outright lying or telling half truths to sucker her.

Really, how did they see this ending? Was getting Panacea as a Ward, really worth pissing off all of New Wave? She'd been healing their asses either way, so what was the difference? PR?

"It's not a laughing matter, this is a serious charge, you'd do well to consider your options, Panacea. You're held to a high standard due to your ability, the backlash of you being charged with assault will be fierce…" Piggot said, almost cajoling, trying to sound less strict, but largely failing.

Probably because of how much of a bitch she was. She couldn't quite hide all that hatred.

"Good luck making that charge stick." Amy said uncaringly, silence following her statement. She was probably ruining their script. Their belief in how this conversation would play out. Poor them, how terrible for the people that would rather sit and bother her then go out and save some sex slaves.

"Assault with a Parahuman power is no joking matter. The sentence would likely include jail time." Piggot said darkly, trying to press the issue.

Panacea snickered, "Sure. Put me in jail." She said easily, playing with her hair with one hand, entwining strands between her fingers.

Silence deafened the room again as both Piggot and Armsmaster seemed unsure of what to say, her nonchalance completely throwing them off.

"I mean, I'll still do great in jail, I can heal people in exchange for being top bitch in the cellblock." She said flippantly, before she snickered again, "You guys though…. Panacea in jail for healing a Nazi wrong, my healing no longer on tap for the public… Oh, I'll be smiling in my little cell while the PRT gets chased out of Brockton Bay."

She looked up at the ceiling, a nasty smirk on her face, "You see, Director Piggot, you have the situation all wrong. You're not the guys in power in this situation. I am, because given the choice of me or you, most people will choose the one that can heal cancer."

Oh, they wouldn't chase them out of town, not exactly. They'd still need the PRT and Protectorate. But they could chase the one in charge out of town.

No doubt Coil was already rubbing his pervy mitts together salivating over how bad he could make Piggot look over this.

"This behavior is exactly why you are undergoing M/S screening. It is out of character." Armsmaster said suddenly, his tone sure and steady.

Amy smiled sweetly at him, "No, it's the attitude of a bitch no longer giving any fucks, there's a difference."

Apparently they had no answer to that. Or had finally realized they couldn't get anywhere with her. One of the two.

"Now fuck off and let me get my beauty sleep, I need at least eight hours of rest so I can sue you in the morning for attempting to harass a minor into the wards with threats and heavy handed antics, I'm sure you've broken some kind of law by locking me up here without a guardian, lawyer, or Youth Guard or something."

Again the telling silence spoke volumes.

They didn't bother her further that night.

---

PRT headquarters, Wards common room.

"So… Is she mastered?" Sophia asked loudly, the second that Gallant walked in the door.

She was bored out of her mind, forced into console duty in between her mandatory classes on a bunch of moronic rules that hamstrung the heroes. No wonder the town was shit, the rules basically said they had to suck villains off before asking them if they could arrest them…

She hadn't been in a good mood ever since being forced to join these chumps, Panacea's capture being the only interesting thing to have happened - hence her slight interest.

"Stalker!" Triumph said warningly. Sophia simply scoffed at him, leaning back in her seat at the console, still staring challengingly at Gallant, everyone else had their mask off, but she wasn't as comfortable yet. Mostly, she was still plotting avenues of escape, trying to figure out a way to return to being a vigilante, so she didn't want to unmask to these losers.

Even if the PRT already knew her identity, there was no point in her being loose with it.

She'd barely been part of the Wards for a few weeks, and she was already doing her best at making the whole process into a headache. Because if she had to suffer through this - these fucks sure as hell was going to pay as well.

"To be fair, asking if Panacea is mastered is a pretty important question right now…" Clockblocker said, ignoring the dirty look he received from Vista.

Gallant sighed, shaking his head morosely, "She doesn't appear to be… But she's definitely… Irritable." He said diplomatically, sinking down onto the couch, next to Vista and Clockblocker.

Clockblocker snorted, sounding amused. "I'd be pretty annoyed too if I was walking around the hospital and suddenly got a foam grenade to the face."

"Did she really do it?" Sophia demanded of Gallant. Glaring at the boy scout, even if the effect was somewhat diminished due to her still wearing her mask. "Did she purposefully turn a Nazi black?"

Everyone's eyes turned to Gallant, who slumped into the couch, seemingly reluctant to answer.

Sophia didn't care for any societal niceties, bluntly pushing, "Fucking simple question beam boy, yes or no?"

"Stalker… We don't talk to teammates like this. Aren't you doing sensitivity classes already?" Triumph said warningly, even as Vista turned her head to glare at Sophia.

She couldn't care less, bunch of fucking losers all of them, they wouldn't know what to do facing a rapist or a murderer, they'd probably go hide while calling on mommy Militia or something. Fucking useless. All of them were too passive. Reactive. Only willing to move once the villains have already hit.

And fuck sensitivity classes, she was almost ready to turn to villainy just to get out of that pile of garbage. The PRT wanted to defend criminals' feelings and rights. Fuck had she been brought into, team teletubbies?

"Teammates usually answer questions too, right?" Sophia growled out to Triumph challengingly, because she wasn't going to take all the shit for the pretty boy keeping his mouth shut. That shit ain't teammate behavior either.

"Jesus Stalker, dial down the bitch mode just a little!" Clockblocker said, sounding exasperated.

"Clock…" Triumph sighed out, rubbing his face, "Everyone, just… Get along. The day is almost over."

Sophia had no idea how he was the leader of the Wards. Like everyone else here, he had no spine. No killer instinct.

"Yes… It's true." Gallant interjected, finally answering her question. "She pretty much admitted it."

"Wouldn't have expected that from her." Vista said quietly, looking ill at ease.

Sophia touched her crossbows briefly, even if they were neutered now with ridiculous 'safe' bolts, her mind whirling with thoughts on Panacea, maybe she'd understand how Sophia thought, she certainly fucked that Nazi up. Sophia could definitely see the amusement in what she'd done. She grinned darkly underneath her mask as the Wards argued about the issue. Finally, someone else takes it to the bastards…

She eyes the console consideringly, this shit is boring as all hell… I'm basically on probation anyway, not gonna matter if I get in shit right now, what are they gonna do? Make me do more lame ass shit? They won't allow me to patrol anyway…

Her mind made up, she stood up, pushing the chair back, drawing attention from the rest of them as she walked towards the exit.

"Stalker, where are you going, you're on console duty." Triumph asked, half rising from his seat.

She scoffed, flinging a hand towards Clockblocker, "So's that loser, don't see him sitting at the console, so fucking give me a break, I got my period, going to deal with that, wanna fucking assist? Team lead?" She mocked.

Triumph slumped down in the chair, clearing his throat awkwardly, "No, that's alright, Clock can take over until you get back." He said lamely.

Vista was eyeing her suspiciously, but Sophia couldn't care less, the girl didn't have the guts to confront her, maybe if she did, she could actually grow to like her.

Clockblocker got up to replace her, as she neared the exit, whining, "Man, Aegis and Kid Win need to finish patrol soon, I don't want to get stuck at the console!"

She slipped out of the room, going into her breaker state once she entered the bathroom, the one place she was sure had no cameras. Minutes later she was outside, making her way over rooftops. She was registered in the system already, so she should be able to get into the Rig, then it was just a matter of using her breaker state to slip through the cracks of surveillance and make her way down to Panacea's cell.

She was curious, and fucking bored. She wanted to know if maybe the girl was like her, sick and tired of how shit Brockton Bay was, and willing to actually do something about it.

Unlike the other so-called heroes.

---

Amy sighed explosively, hearing someone turn the window to her cell clear again, and she'd just been about to go to sleep too. It had been hours since Armsmaster had left, but she'd had trouble falling asleep, knowing people were likely watching her.

She wondered if Armsmaster was up her ass because Piggot was up his, or if he felt he needed to project leadership since taking over a few months ago when Challenger was killed in an Endbringer fight, he hadn't actually achieved anything since taking over after all. Either way the man was annoyingly competent and way too likely to spot inconsistencies in her behavior if he studied her long enough.

She'd have to play up the bitch be tired of being a doormat angle…

"You just love perving on a teenage girl getting ready for bed, don't you?" She grouched out loud, sitting up in her bed, clad only in a t-shirt and panties. Thankfully no Armsmaster brand ones.

Actually… That could have been funny, just for the look on his face.

She would have liked to wear more to cover up from the camera's and the perverts watching through them, but she just couldn't sleep with something covering her legs, she never could. A difference between her and the original, but hardly one the PRT would notice.

She hoped. Or they had way more knowledge of her homelife then she was comfortable with.

"You got nothing special." Came a sharp snort that made Amy glance over at the screen in curiosity. Because what!?

Shadow Stalker of all people was paying her a visit. She didn't even know she was a ward yet. And either way… She seriously doubted it was because she was allowed to be here. "Well…" Amy said slowly, before beginning to fluff her pillows, making herself comfortable, leaning back and up against them in a seated position. She waved a hand imperiously when she was done, "They've definitely changed their recruitment angle, I approve. A stripper giving me a show sure beats Armsmaster trying - and failing - to emote."

Was Amy an absolutely incorrigible little shit? Yes, yes she was. Besides, it was Shadow Stalker, it was practically a requirement to mess with her. No one liked her.

She kind of did. But that was because she was a bitch, so she identified with her easier. Bitches united or something.

Also she was hot. That helped a lot. She was also like 15, but she was 16 so it was okay. Or was she 17? Stupid fake adoption papers.

Shadow Stalker snorted, crossing her arms, as she leaned up against the window, having to stand sideways to pull it off, all in an attempt to look cool. "You couldn't afford me."

Amy grinned delightedly, what was this? A Shadow Stalker that didn't quite have a telephone pole up her ass yet? "Oh… I don't know…" She said coyly, "I could tune you up, you know, greater strength, healing, roided up immune system, subdermal armor, the whole nine yards… All for the low cost of you strutting your stuff…"

She knew she was likely being recorded. She just didn't care. Her being a biokinetic wasn't going to surprise anyone that had any sense. She still had a good reputation, the PRT couldn't afford to lock her up and throw away the key.

Not at this point. Besides… She had all the Cauldron deets to get herself out of that hole if it came to it.

Shadow Stalker actually laughed at that, it was short, harsh and cold, but it was a laugh. "Fuck, I'm tempted." She said slowly afterwards, tapping the window between them with one finger, "Didn't know you could pull off all that shit, though. Been sandbagging?" She queried sounding honestly curious.

Amy shrugged, faking nonchalance, "I had delusions of normalcy, until I woke up and realized we're all monsters, some of us just hide it better." She raised an eyebrow, a smug little smirk on her face, "Thought you were an independent? What happened? Couldn't hide the monster well enough?" She asked playfully.

"Something like that." Shadow Stalker said, seemingly thinking about something, her head tilted as she studied Amy. "The dude you turned black… Why did you do it?" She asked bluntly.

Considering one of her hands was almost caressing a crossbow handle in its harness, Amy had a fair idea why Shadow Stalker cared to ask. Amy could feel the vigilante turned Ward's burning gaze, even through her hood and her stern faced woman's mask, but in the end Amy just snorted, shaking her head in denial, "Not saying that for the peeping tom's to hear."

Shadow Stalker waved a dismissive hand, "I turned all that shit off before I got here." The way she held her body, and the proud way she said that. Was Shadow Stalker bragging to her? How cute!

Amy smirked, getting out of bed, her bare feet smacking against the cold floor, "Oh, someone's being naughty." She teased, walking up to the window slowly, standing close to it, having to look up slightly to face Shadow Stalker's mask, due to her own lack of height. "You'll get in trouble for that one, Stalker." She warned, not really caring, but feeling interested in what brought this on.

She'd already changed things. And she'd barely done anything.

Shadow Stalker gave her a once over, her gaze unfortunately not lingering on Amy's bare legs or panty clad bottom, disappointing. Amy thought with a pout. "Well, since you're not as ridiculous about the reality of Brockton Bay as the people in this building usually are… I guess I can tell you." Amy said, tossing her hair slightly as she pushed right up to the glass, her nose almost touching it.

"I did it because it was fun! Because he deserves to be beaten to death like he'd no doubt done to others. I did it because he was a Nazi and I was tired of giving them a free pass." Amy said with relish, a thrill running through her at admitting it. The real reason she'd done it. Because she had power, and he didn't. And she'd wanted to use it. Just a taste. A tiny little taste.

Shadow Stalker raised her hands up, taking her mask off, a pretty smirk on her face as she came face to face with her, "Name's Sophia Hess, I always thought you were kind of a pussy, from what I'd heard, but you're alright with me, anyone willing to give it to the Nazis are."

Amy was kind of amazed it was that easy to get the girl to unmask, usually everyone made such a big deal about hidden identities from what she remembered. Was it really such a big deal to her that Amy had gone after a Nazi?

"Too bad they won't let me heal Hookwolf or someone like that, if they're brought in now." Amy said casually, with a disturbing grin on her face, "He'd definitely deserve to be blacked." She backed up a bit and blew Sophia a kiss, winking at her, "Nice to meet you Sophia." She purred.

At least Sophia didn't seem squicked out at her smiles like everyone else did.

Sophia's smirk widened as she loosened her stance, seemingly less tense, "I'm not into chicks, even though your other offer is tempting… I could always use more ways to kick ass." She barked out a laugh, shaking her head, pulling her hood fully off, "Blacked! I like it. Planning on 'Blacking' any other Empire filth?" She asked eagerly, fists clenching at her side, the leather gloves creaking slightly.

Amy pouted, Sophia Hess was absolutely gorgeous, unfairly so. Yeah, she was all hard edges, but that runner's body was working really well for her. And it's not like Amy really gave a shit about canon either, so all that bullying? Not really her problem. Taylor was a character from a story, a really depressing character too, she really didn't care about what happened there. "I'd prefer to do worse…" She whispered out, making a shushing motion, winking again.

Sophia hummed in thought, her eyes sharp and assessing. "You mean that too, huh, I really got you all pegged wrong. They all have, hah!" She shook her head mirthfully, "That's going to make life interesting ain't it?"

"You could always let me out… You're already going to be in trouble as is." Amy needled, smirking challengingly.

Sophia scoffed, "You're Panacea, you'll be out soon enough. I'll get grounded to the console for this as is, and my introduction might get pushed up, but who cares about that bullshit? If I let you out though, I'll be in a cell next, a real cell."

Considering she'd stuck around in the Wards who she obviously disliked and constantly cheated on with unsanctioned patrols, all to get away from juvie - it made sense she wouldn't risk it right now either. Amy was just playing either way, she wasn't actually in a rush, no matter what she projected towards the PRT.

"Fair enough, but maybe when you're off the leash… You could show me a thing or two about being a vigilante?" Amy asked, figuring Sophia might actually know a thing or two about where the goons hung out, saving her the time to track test subjects down.

Sophia twitched irritably, "Don't call it that!" She snapped, "No one leashes Shadow Stalker!" At Amy's deadpanned look, she just breathed out of her nose harshly, muttering something under her breath. "Fine, I don't mind, you're not as naive as the Wards at least." She said trying to play it off as casual, but there was a thread of excitement in her voice.

"Aww, am I your only friend, Shadow Stalker." Amy cooed, putting a hand to her own cheek and smiling mockingly.

"I can get in there and punch you in the face without even opening the door." Sophia said warningly, her eyes sparkling with something dangerous, yet friendly at the same time.

Amy smirked, making a come at me gesture, "Try it, let's see how cocky you are after I give you a cock for the effort!" She threatened lightly.

Sophia paused, jaw dropping slightly, "You can do that!?" She hissed out, incredulously.

Amy nodded, giving Sophia a half lidded look, a devilish smirk playing on her lips, "Sounds like someone's ~interested!"

"Oh fuck you bitch!" Sophia snorted, opening her mouth again, only to be interrupted by blaring alarms erupting around the building.

"Looks like they finally realized you turned off all their recording equipment. That's… Really slow. Bad look for the PRT." Amy said, shaking her head. She smiled at Sophia, "Get out of here while you still can, maybe they won't even realize it was you."

At least it answered something for Amy… They didn't have people watching her 24/7 creepily, or the alarm would have gone off way sooner.

Or… They'd let Sophia think she'd turned everything off, and was actually watching the entire time, and was only interrupting now because they were reaching dangerous territory, talking about escaping and the like.

Sophia scoffed, turning into her shadowy breaker form to ghost through the window, her shadowy form finding itself at Amy's desk, Sophia reappearing a second later, seated on the chair, calm as can be. "I'd rather own it." She admitted, "Besides," She said with a smug little smirk, "M/S screening will be better than console duty with fucking Clockblocker." Her lips twisted into a disgusted grimace, "Or sensitivity training."

"You're such a bitch." Amy said, lips twitching, "I think we'll get along just fine, I think you're overdressed though…" She gestured to her own state of dress, her eyes roaming over Sophia's tight uniform. She wasn't sure exactly why heroes went for skintight bodysuits, but she approved.

"Still not going to fuck you, I ain't interested." Sophia said casually, her eyes sliding towards her, a teasing glint in them.

"Can't blame a girl for trying." Amy sighed, there were far too few bi or lesbian heroes in Brockton Bay.

"Shadow Stalker! Explain yourself!" Came over the speakers, at the same time as several PRT troopers and Assault entered the 'safe' side of the room.

"... I think she mastered me or some shit." Sophia said, pointing at Amy with a shit eating smirk on her face. "It's definitely her fault I'm here."

"You colossal bitch!" Amy laughed, she couldn't help it, here she was being purposefully difficult to annoy the PRT and the Protectorate and confound their thinkers - and Shadow Stalker outdid her in just a few minutes.

Now she was definitely going to be locked up long enough to cause a stir.

---

Assistant Director Renick's office, The Rig.

Carol Dallon was not afraid to admit she despised the PRT on a good day, today was markedly not a good day.

A holier than thou attitude and zero accountability, did not make for a good organization to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. And the PRT encapsulated the worst of such attitudes.

She was sitting in the assistant Director's office, likely because Piggot and Armsmaster had delegated the task of dealing with a pissed off Brandish, she thought angrily, huffing in the empty office, full uniform on for the first time in what felt like ages.

And she was beyond angry. Angry at Amy for doing something so utterly foolish, risking the entire brand of New Wave for a prank that might end in a man's death. At least she hoped it was a prank, the other option was much worse.

She privately admitted she didn't much care if the Empire 88 cretin was killed by his own ilk, but as heroes they could not fall so low as to actually do something like that. And Amy, as Panacea, had broken trust - harmed when she promised healing.

So yes, Brandish was angry. But she'd half expected something like this at some point, so the anger was chilled, cooled by the feeling she'd been vindicated.

What turned that cold anger into a firestorm was the PRT daring to attack Panacea, using con-foam grenades at the hospital, and refusing to allow her representation or the attendance of a guardian until she'd passed M/S screening.

A load of bull, the law didn't work like that. Brandish would know, and Amy should have known, if she ever paid attention to her. Even with the specter of M/S screening one could not just nab minors off the street and hold them.

If the PRT held that power, they could simply lock up and interrogate anyone they wanted under the aegis of - they were acting odd so they might have been mastered.

The PRT had that power specifically for the PRT and Protectorate personnel. People that had signed on the dotted lines in their contracts that they could be forced into M/S screening at any time and had no right to refuse.

That did not extend to independent capes. It did not matter to New Wave. And the PRT knew this. Which told Brandish they were playing games, because they knew they'd be sued for this, and yet they went ahead anyway, willing to take the monetary hit for whatever goal.

There weren't many reasons to hold Panacea… And Brandish would not allow her to become a Ward, she would not allow Amy to lose all sense of responsibility, to lose her head under the PR umbrella of the PRT and Protectorate. She'd worked too hard to ensure Amy didn't fall victim to her own heritage. The PRT and their lack of accountability would just send Amy spiraling into villainy.

Assistant Director Renick looked tired and apologetic when he finally arrived, rushing through the door in a rumpled suit that indicated he'd been called in from home due to this incident. "My sincerest apologies, Brandish, there were some complications I needed to be filled in on before we could meet."

She stared at him coldly, "Complications enough to keep a parent from her minor child for hours, Renick?"

Renick slumped down into his seat, "Yes, actually." He said tiredly, "How much are you aware of in regards to the incident stemming from your daughter's stay with us?"

Brandish wanted to quibble on the simplification of the wording for Amy's illegal incarceration - but she'd already waited long enough, so she powered forward, "She gave a Nazi enforcer black skin." She said stiffly, before staring at the assistant Director with a thin lipped frown. "Then you violently overreacted and assaulted her."

"Velocity may have reacted a tad overzealously to the call, but we did have reason to believe something was going on." Renick said with a note of apology in his tone.

Before Brandish could snap at him, he raised a hand asking for a moment, taking a picture out of a file folder and sliding it across the desk. "This was taken before the incident, and was the first sign of something off, which, compounded with the calls we'd receive later, necessitated a quick response."

Brandish glanced down at the picture and froze, it was Amy, out of uniform, standing precariously on the ledge of the roof of the hospital. The smoke in her hand became secondary (although would not be forgotten) to the fact the picture painted something much worse. "Who took this?" She asked, feeling safer to concentrate on a potential stalker than what the picture could mean.

"A cape enthusiast." Renick said simply, offering no further information, he sighed, rubbing his face wearily, "Not only did several people after that call the PRT to report their belief that Panacea had been either mastered or had something bad happen to her - but then we had the incident with a Mr. Larson as well. It was the decision of the PRT and Protectorate agents on shift to not take any chances with Panacea and ensure her safety immediately."

Brandish reluctantly agreed, although she wouldn't say it. She still intended to sue, although now she was more likely to settle. She looked down at the picture again, and at the odd smile clearly visible on Amy's face as she stood inches away from death. "Has she been mastered?" She forced herself to ask.

Renick grimaced, slowly shaking his head, "Gallant reported everything was normal with her emotions, and we've tested her extensively, there is no biological sign of any alteration, no emotional alteration, and Armsmaster can find no sign of radiation or technological effects - yet the screening is likely to last days to make sure she doesn't change rapidly."

Brandish nodded, feeling off kilter, forced to agree with the PRT like this. "You should have still allowed me to see her, and to represent her before any interview." She snapped, refusing to be on the backfoot any longer in this conversation. "You broke the law by refusing her this. I know Amy wouldn't have waived her right to an attorney." Her eyes narrowed, "And either way she is a minor, so it wouldn't matter, you should have allowed me to be there."

"I'll let the Director or legal department answer those questions." Renick answered, showing his true colors by pushing the matter aside, refusing to accept responsibility. "There is the matter of… The other complications…"

"What complications?" Brandish ground out, an eye twitching in irritation.

"Shadow Stalker somehow got into her cell, afterwards claiming Panacea mastered her in an apparent attempt to get out of punishment. We say apparently, because now we have more tests to run to make sure…" Renick said, sounding as done about things as Brandish was feeling.

"Is that all?" Brandish said with some bitterness, "You allowed a new Ward, not yet introduced to the public, to breach M/S containment, to muddle the inquiry into my daughter, and the spoiled brat is refusing to take responsibility - what a surprise." She glared at Renick, knowing he's just the sacrificial lamb, "Anything else you've screwed up about this entire situation?" She snapped harshly.

Renick visibly winced. "Ah… Panacea refused to let Shadow Stalker go to a separate cell, to the point of promising to attack anyone entering to remove her. She also offered the Director a deal… She promised not to sue or cause other complications during her screening, if she could ride out the M/S screening with Shadow Stalker 'to entertain her'.

Brandish stared at the assistant Director in incredulity, "That defeats entirely the purpose of the screening!" She growled, "Tell me you've separated the two!" She demanded shrilly.

Renick's wince was far more substantial this time, "The Director agreed, she felt there wasn't any other good outcome possible from entering with force."

"Why on earth would Amy do this?" Brandish muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief.

Renick obviously heard, and misconstrued it as a question for himself, answering immediately, "Ah, I believe I'm quoting here, 'I want to get into Shadow Stalker's panties and because of that I need some alone time with her to succeed in seducing her.' I believe those were her exact words…" Renick looked physically pained at having to repeat them, the older man obviously not comfortable dealing with teenagers.

Brandish slumped in her chair, it was hard to argue about M/S screening at this point. What on earth are you thinking Amy!?

Renick hesitated for a moment, wetting his lips, "And… There's also another matter…"

Brandish closed her eyes, resigned to it, "What else? What can possibly top this already?"

"Were you aware that your daughter was a biokinetic more reminiscent of the likes of Bonesaw or Nilbog? She's being quite free with the information on it in our recordings, which goes far beyond the power ratings we have on file, the ones New Wave provided us…" Renick asked carefully.

Brandish knew now why Piggot wasn't here. She was likely at this moment screeching at the Chief Director for permission to Birdcage our outright kill Amy. The bigoted Director was hard enough to deal with on a normal day with her obvious suspicion and distaste of capes - a biokinetic would have her screaming bloody murder.

Brandish knew her ties to Nilbog weren't common knowledge - but she was one of the few in Brockton Bay who had that information. Piggot would not let this go. Was literally incapable of it.

Brandish had known this day would come, when something like this would happen, had planned for it even, but not like this, not with Amy… What on earth was she doing announcing it? Is she trying to get herself killed? Her mind flashed to the picture again, of Amy standing at the edge of the rooftop. She squared her shoulders, while gritting her teeth harshly, preparing herself for the fight of her life.

She would not let the PRT do as they wished. Not as long as Amy was still a member of New Wave in the public's eye.

Her eyes narrowed minutely as she glared at the assistant Director, "As far as you know, she isn't one." She said clippedly. "Anything said under an illegal arrest and with an illegal incarceration, with an illegal recording of a minor that has been refused legal counsel or parental access - will be thrown out of any court. It might as well not exist."

"It's not that simple." Renick said slowly, shaking his head, "That kind of power… It has… Connotations."

"What kind of power? Like I said, nothing that has happened today since you arrested my daughter, legally exists." Brandish said bitingly, clenching her fists to keep herself from doing anything rash, her emotions running too strongly due to her combined dislike for the PRT and for Amy.

What an irony that she's forced to defend Amy when she'd finally show her true colors and could, with some careful work, be cut loose without consequences to the team. She would not let the PRT turn this around on New Wave however.

She would not let this be a feather in their cap, would not let New Wave take the brunt of the fallout.

"Brandish, this can't be put back, the genie is out of the bottle." Renick said, trying to reason with her.

"Try me!" She snapped back.

Everything only went downhill from there.

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

Noble Weasley

It's been done to death, which is probably why I never bothered to make it into a story, but here it is for your brief enjoyment, and if anyone wants to take a run with it feel free.

Enjoy,

As usual Harry Potter belongs to JKR and Warner Bros and everyone else that gets a slice, not me though, I is poor.

---

Later on, it was not difficult to pinpoint the moment everything changed.

How the world tilted on its axis - changing the fate of everything. But especially one soul.

In the moment - it felt scary, but not anything out of the ordinary. Nothing suggested everything would change.

But it did.

For ten year old Ginevra Weasley - Ginny to anyone that knew better. It had started as a fairly routine morning. Once again September 1st had come by and left, and she'd had to get up early to feed the chickens - basking in the fresh air and just arriving sunlight as she got lost in her head. Chickens happily feeding away around her.

Once again she had been left behind - this time truly alone. Ron, the last brother she had to save her from the boredom and tedium of everyday life at the burrow - had abandoned her.

Oh, she had her mum, but honestly a year stuck with Molly Weasley and perhaps a few hours with her dad in the evenings, was not something she'd been looking forward to - as much as she loved her parents, she was ten. A silent night at home, knitting - was not her idea of an ideal evening.

Ginny was a mischievous, ambitious and energetic girl. Well used to picking the lock of the shed in the middle of the night and going for a fly - at night - since in Molly Weasley's opinion, a young lady should not perform such boyish escapades as Quidditch.

The benefit of having less brothers around every year had been a markedly escalating improvement in her flying skills, as she suddenly had much more time to sneak around without Fred and George poking their snoopy noses in.

Only her eldest brothers had any inkling of what she got up to, mostly because Bill taught her how to pick locks in the first place - and Charlie, once he got on the Quidditch team at Hogwarts - had taught her to fly, quietly over late nights in the summer - behind their parents back.

But Bill and Charlie were gone now - out of the country for their careers. And Ginny wouldn't admit it out loud - but she was dying of jealousy. Curse breaking and working with Dragons! It sounded more like adventuring than a job - nothing like her dad's tinkering with muggle things for almost no pay.

Fred and George were funny and irreverent and yet so wrapped up in each other that Ginny was on the outside looking in - always part of the family as far as the twins were concerned - but always a other. They did include her in their pranks sometimes, which was fun, but only made it sting so much more when they turned around and excluded her - or made her the target.

At least that had been solved - they didn't dare prank her anymore after this summer, when she'd stolen Fred's wand, learned the bat-bogey hex - cast it on George while the three of them were alone. And then left the wand behind near Fred to get their mother and watched the twins take the fallout for her spell - just another act of shenanigans by the twins, so everyone thought. The twins knew though they never threw her under the Hippogriff, and had even congratulated her on a well played plot - and stopped targeting her.

Ron had been her last companion. Closest to her in age, they'd both lamented being left behind together - both drawing closer as happens when you're the only two kids around. Even if he had a bit of a temper and was stubborn to a fault - Ginny could be stubborn too so she didn't blame him. They'd play chess, run around outside playing games, and build forts together. Ron had even consented to play as Harry Potter for her a couple times in a few games. Always saving Ginny from the imaginary dragon.

And now she was all alone.

She sighed, before a shriek pierced the air, making her flinch and drop the feed bag on the ground. The chickens happily pecked away as she flew back into the house. That had been her mum!

"Mum! What's wrong!?" She yelled as she crashed into the kitchen - finding her mother clutching a burned letter, tears running down her face. A Tawny owl, floo powder still on its feathers, the owl fluttering in the rafters looking put out at all the noise. It looked like it had been tossed unceremoniously through the floo, Ginny didn't even know you could do that.

Although maybe you couldn't, the owl didn't look happy…

"Charlie's been in an accident…" Molly Weasley mumbled as if in a trance. Desperately clutching the letter between her fingers, her knuckles turning white.

Ginny immediately turned to the family clock, gasping loudly, her vision blurring into tears. Under Charlie's name it said - Mortal peril.

Her mum jerked in the kitchen chair unnaturally - wide teary eyes following Ginny's gaze as her breathing came in quick, short, gasping breaths. She groaned, sagging in her chair as she saw what Ginny saw.

"Charlie…." Ginny cried, not knowing what happened but knowing it must be bad. "Mum, what happened to Charlie?" She demanded shrilly.

Her mum didn't answer, just stared at the clock for a minute, barely breathing, before she took a deep breath, "Arthur, he doesn't know…" And then between one moment and the next Ginny could only stare in despair as her mother apparated away - no doubt to go to the ministry after her dad.

Leaving Ginny alone, breaking down on the kitchen floor as all she could do was sit there and stare at the clock. The hand for Charlie never leaving Mortal peril.

---

Ginny never got the full story once her mum returned with her dad, only through eavesdropping did she learn that Charlie had an altercation with another wizard near the dragon reserve - he had protected the dragons he loved so much. And he'd been cursed to within an inch of his life.

She didn't find out anything about his condition, if the wizard had been caught or not, what was happening or if Charlie was going to be alright. She was only ten and her parents refused to share anything with her. It wasn't fair. Charlie was her brother, she deserved to know!

What she did find out - was that she was being packed up and shipped off to great aunt Muriel for at least until after Christmas. Her mum was going to Romania to be with Charlie and her dad was picking up extra work at the ministry to pay for it - leaving no one to care for Ginny.

She couldn't understand, why couldn't she go to Romania to see Charlie as well? Or they could leave her at the Burrow, her dad would be home for meals and bedtime at least - she could look after herself for the rest.

Her protests were unceremoniously discarded without any thought or care put into them. Her mum side-along apparating her to her aunt's cottage within a day of the news. A hurried kiss on the cheek was all she had time for, for her only daughter - before she was dumped at the steps like so much refuse.

Great aunt Muriel had one look at her, sneered, and waved her inside with a wrinkled hand, "Well, in you go, Ginevra. Even raised in a barn as you are, you shan't be allowed to be rude and just stand on my doorstep all night, child."

Ginny openly gaped at her, Muriel was rarely pleasant the few times the family had been allowed around her - but she hadn't encountered anything like this.

"A lady does not gape like some Knockturn streetwalker," Muriel snapped, tapping her not so gently on her head with her cane, "Close your mouth and in with you, child."

Rubbing her head and close to tears - Ginny entered the Prewett cottage. Not the family manse - that had been closed for years since great aunt Muriel was the only Prewett left of the main family. Or so her mum had said the few times the Prewetts had been brought up at home - not often. There were some distant cousins but whether through not enough blood ties - or Muriel's personality - they weren't around, nor part of the inheritance debate.

Ginny abstractly knew that her mum had been a Prewett - but it didn't quite sink in how different things were, until she was shown to her room. Even in this small family cottage, the dark wood flooring and beautifully painted wall murals spoke of wealth. Draperies and busts of prominent family members dotted the space along the hallways to her room - and her room itself, it was three times the size of her room at the Burrow. And that didn't count the walk in closet or the en-suite bathroom.

"Don't get any gold digging ideas - you Weasley's aren't getting a drop of the fortune." Muriel sniffed, "I'm being charitable enough allowing one of Molly's spawn to stay."

Ginny gritted her teeth, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. Charlie might die and her family had dumped her here, she wouldn't be a weak ninny and break down in tears in front of this old biddy - she wouldn't!

Mercifully she was left alone soon after.

She looked around at the finery around her, the gilded mirrors, the expensive looking rug. She'd always dreamed about having more money - even if she didn't really dislike the life she had, her family was enough - but still she'd dreamed.

Seeing it now. Cold and unfeeling. She'd throw it all away for another moment with Charlie. Another moment with her parents.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

The first of many.

---

To her absolute shock - Muriel had arranged tutors for her, somehow, even with the short notice, she'd managed.

To her horror only part of the tutoring would be about magic. Only a few hours a week on basic Arithmancy and History of Magic, as well as some basic theory in Potions. No actual brewing - just memorizing ingredients and their effects with each other and how to handle and process them.

Three days of the week were slotted fully for deportment lessons, how to hold yourself, how to sit and stand and walk, and how it changed depending on the status of the person or persons you were around. Ginny despaired as she was forced through lessons on how to eat and drink, her fingers receiving stinging hexes whenever she'd hold a goblet or a flute wrong. Apparently her posture had been all wrong too. Ginny suspected that Muriel would find everything to be wrong - and the woman did sit in on many of the lessons, making snide comments on her Weasley upbringing.

Ginny found it harder and harder to keep her temper down. If she had a wand - she'd have hexed her tutors by now. If not great Aunt Muriel, although she seemed like the kind of woman to send a nasty curse back.

If deportment lessons were bad - they didn't hold a candle to genealogy lessons. Ginny suffered through endless hours of memorizing the bloodlines of Great Britain up to ten generations back. At her vigorous protests, the tutor had snidely told her that the average pureblood child could recite at least that much by age 7.

Ginny bit her lip so hard it bled, but managed to hold her tongue and not scream at the bigoted moron who taught her. She simply smiled blandly and bent back over dusty tomes and studied. While in the quiet corners of her mind she plotted and schemed for ways to get these pureblood bigots back for putting her through this nonsense.

She was the sister of Fred and George Weasley - she'd find a way…

At least the dancing lessons weren't too horrible. Even if dancing with animated mannequins were disquieting - at least it meant she didn't have to learn with actual boys. Especially as all these pureblood customs and such she was forced to learn - would no doubt lead to such boys being Slytherins.

Her parents would actually die if they found out that Ginny was dancing with the enemy.

As a month went by, her time filled from the moment she woke, until it was time for bed - she never once received word from her family. Nothing from her brothers. Nothing from her parents. No update on Charlie. As she cried herself to sleep at night, at least she could console herself that he was alive. Because surely if he died they would have had to come get her or at least tell her.

The next morning, half-way through October - she was in yet another lesson on pureblood customs, her great aunt Mutiel sitting in yet again - her beady eyes watching, ready to unleash criticism at any moment.

Ginny had hardly slept last night, worried about Charlie - tired of her family ignoring her existence - tired of being forced through lessons no Weasley would ever need.

Honestly, when would Ginny ever attend a high society function? They were blood traitors for Merlin's sake!

Her tutor, a thin reedy man with a hooked nose - a minor pureblood with relations to the house of Crouch, once again looked down his nose at her with a condescending sneer. "Once again, Weasley," He mocked, before shaking his head, sniffing imperiously. "No wonder you're so slow at this, do you even have forks in that broom shed of a home your brood squats in?"

Ginny finally exploded, she'd had enough. Of holding back her temper - of being dragged around like some pureblood doll! Of not being able to fly or have fun, or be with her family. With a wordless roar she stood up, tossing the table to the side, overturning it in a great clash of silverware, and she went for a punch to the gits midsection - having no other way to release her anger right now.

Her eyes widened as with a boom of noise - before she could even touch the man - he was violently flung back, slamming into the opposite wall, cracks spreading from where the man was indented - unconscious. A great gust of wind flowing away from the center of the impact.

She'd been so upset she'd used accidental magic - she hadn't done that in years.

Ginny bit her lip, turning to her great aunt, bracing herself for a thwacking of the cane at minimum. Only from force of will - and recent deportment lessons sinking into her brain - was she able to prevent herself from openly gaping.

Muriel was sitting back in her chair openly cackling so hard that tears were appearing in the corner of her eyes. "Excellent, Ginevra! Who knew you had it in you! There's some Prewett in there somewhere after all!" She cackled delightedly.

Ginny tilted her head just so - as she'd been taught, and narrowed her eyes, "He deserved it." She said haughtily. A hint of nervousness fluttering in her belly.

Muriel grasped her cane, and stood up, still chuckling. "I would say so, he's always been a bit of a ponce that one. Biggest Ravenclaw I've ever seen."

"You… Agree with me?" Ginny said slowly, eyeing her with suspicion, "You say much of the same things…"

Muriel sniffed, "I'm family, as much as I wish it weren't so some days. I'm allowed to point out your flaws - especially as obvious as they are." She looked down at Ginny critically, "Although less in one of you then I would have thought…"

Ginny sort of hated herself for how that almost praise had a faint blush spreading over her cheeks, the tightness in her chest, present ever since she tossed her tutor into the wall - lessening.

"Won't he be mad?" She asked, glancing at the still unconscious man, wedged into the wall. Not that she much cared - he was obnoxious and condescending.

Muriel scoffed, "He'll get his galleons, so he's got nothing to complain about. Certainly he won't be back to teach - I'll take over those lessons."

Ginny gulped, that didn't sound so good. She suddenly wished she could have her tutor back.

Muriel took a few quick steps forward and grasped her chin - staring into her eyes critically." Don't lose that backbone now, child. I think you've had enough of the boring details anyway, I'll teach you the important things. Family only." She decreed, before quickly moving away again, Ginny watched in confusion, wondering why she bothered with a cane when she was obviously strong enough without one. She winced as her great aunt thwacked her tutor hard in the shins to wake him up. That answered that question.

Now what did she mean by teaching her the Important things…

---

The mood at the cottage had changed - as if Ginny had passed some sort of test. Muriel certainly wasn't pleasant still - but she now engaged Ginny in conversation. Asking about her interests and ambitions.

She even allowed Ginny four hours on the weekend to fly. It was on an ancient cleansweep - and only for four hours. But it did a lot in making Ginny feel more charitable to the lessons she still undertook.

Amongst the lessons, Muriel also started talking about the Prewetts a bit. Slowly and carefully, as if she didn't believe in even saying anything. Ginny listened attentively. Family she could understand. Family loyalty was everything to a Weasley.

The days passed and Ginny - while still missing her family - started to not overly mind her stay. Even if some of the lessons were still tiringly dull.

Then came October 31st…

It had been a normal day, even if she had no other tutors coming in for some reason - Muriel had taken the lessons instead and had been spending much of the day on rituals and ceremonies dating back centuries. Things Ginny had always thought were illegal dark magic gatherings - or so she'd always been taught by her mum anyway. According to Muriel they were not illegal - but currently not in vogue either due to recent events. The ministry not banning them per say, but not strictly approving of the practices either.

"They're as much part of family magic as anything else we do, Ginevra." She said seriously as they say at the dinner table after lessons. Her great aunt's house elf served them a scrumptious meal that Ginny loyally deemed on par with her mum, but certainly not better. Just… Different, more refined cuisine. Not better.

It made her feel a little like a princess to sit and eat slowly, these delicious expertly crafted meals, served with all the finery of an ancient and noble house. She knew what her mum would say if she saw her right now - but Ginny was feeling a mite rebellious. If her parents wanted her to eat Weasley made meals, they shouldn't have dumped her off.

"They're not dangerous?" Ginny asked, curious about them despite everything. The more she learned about ancient magical traditions - the more she itched to learn. This was so magical compared to what she saw at home.

Muriel quirked a weathered smile, "Of course they are, Ginevra." She chided, "Magic is dangerous - that's why we celebrate it, pray to it, and offer ourselves to it. So as to receive its bountiful blessing for our families. And for ourselves."

"You make it sound so… Magical…" Ginny blushed a little, she hadn't found the words for it and she had come out sounding like a silly child instead.

"Ginevra, dear. This is magic as it was meant to be, don't shy away from your awe. Embrace it." Muriel said, oddly gently. A tone Ginny did not have much experience with since being dropped off here.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their meal. Muriel broke it by suddenly slapping a palm on the table, giving Ginny a fright. "We better get ready, child."

"Ready? For what?" Ginny asked warily. Surprises from Muriel rarely turned out pleasant for her.

Muriel smiled wistfully, further taking Ginny aback. "I haven't been to a proper Samhain celebration in years - we're going tonight. Someone in the family needs to learn proper magic before I die."

Ginny's eyes grew wide, she nervously smoothed her hair, "What do I wear? What should I do? I haven't been taught about Samhain! What if I do something wrong?" She asked frantically.

Muriel cackled at her worries, making Ginny grit her teeth and glare at her balefully. She didn't see the amusement in having this sprung on her.

"Britty, bring the girl her clothes for the evening." She ordered, the house elf immediately popping away, just to return seconds later levitating a black box which she gently placed in front of Ginny on the table.

Ginny thanked the elf absentmindedly, earning a scoff from her great aunt who didn't believe in such things. Slowly she lifted the lid, gasping at what lay inside the box. Both hands reaching in and pulling out a dress so black it seemed to repel light, the fabric light and silky and with an otherworldly feel, small red rubies lining the neck and sleeves. "I can't wear this, it must have cost a fortune!"

Muriel smirked, "It was just one of many items in the family vault, Ginevra, gathering dust. Don't trouble yourself with Weasley compunctions." She grinned with delight at Ginny's glare for that comment, "It's yours, and don't forget the mask."

Ginny looked in the box and found a similarly dark mask, the fabric almost felt like liquid as it flowed around her fingers. The grin and sharp teeth of a fantastical cat like being staring back at her. "What is this?" She whispered, slightly in awe at what she held and what she would be seeing tonight.

"That's a cat-sìth mask - a sidhe born, cat like creature - Samhain rituals since the beginning of the magical world have been performed in disguises like this. It began as something to hide from death on the night where the veil between life and death is the thinnest." Muriel explained, looking at the mask fondly. "It continued on as a tradition as magical creatures are unnaturally powerful on Samhain - so taking their visage was another means of protection for ancient wizards and witches.

Ginny wondered briefly if this had once been Muriel's as a little girl - but balked at thinking of the woman as anything under a hundred and moved on to admiring the craftsmanship. "It's beautiful." She murmured.

"It's yours," Muriel said brusquely, not looking at her, "They will both grow as you grow, so keep them with you, just in case you'll celebrate the ancient traditions in the future."

Ginny bit her lip, struggling with her deportment lessons and her Weasley nature - before tossing the lessons aside and throwing herself at her aunt, hugging her, "I'll never lose them and I'll celebrate magic forever, you'll see!"

Muriel sniffed, pushing her away, and brushing her robes, "Well, I'll have to get dressed as well." She said hurriedly, getting up and rushing away.

Ginny giggled to herself as she spun around with the dress in her hands, hugging it to her chest. She might have embarrassed her great aunt a little.

If great aunt Muriel was determined to put some Prewett in her, Ginny thought with a mischievous grin, then it was all fair game to put some Weasley into her. Beginning with hugs.

She put the mask on, marveling at how even if it covered her entire face - she could still see as if she had nothing on at all.

She twirled around with her dress again. She couldn't wait to celebrate Samhain.

Not even once as she got ready did she have any thoughts on the regular Weasley halloween celebrations.

---

Around 10pm Ginny was side-along apparated by Muriel who was wearing a similar looking dress, except more conservative and with a shawl over her shoulders. She'd foregone her usual pink extravagant hat, for a Nundu mask. Ginny privately thought the mask fit her better than a cat-sìth mask ever could. Before arriving Muriel had explained some more about the creatures. Their mischievous and dangerous nature - Ginny felt fit her to a tee.

Ginny looked around in awe as they arrived, they were in a large forest glade, and there must have been close to two hundred people at this gathering. "There's so many…" She whispered feeling slightly self conscious. These people no doubt all knew these rituals by heart - and she didn't know anything.

Muriel patted her on the shoulder, "Not to worry, there used to be hundreds of these gatherings across Britain. Because of the ministry - now they only hold three. I have a standing invitation to this one - a lot of the more traditional families celebrate here."

Ginny watched everything with wide eyes, soaking it all in as her great Aunt led her further into the glade. A massive bonfire was burning in the center of the glade, children and adults both dancing around it. Ginny could see thirteen stone bowls in equal distance from the fire - a furrow in the ground from each bowl and she looked up at Muriel questioningly.

"It's for the sacrifices." Muriel said, peering at the stone bowls. "Oh, they're still doing it properly, I had wondered, with these new times." She sounded approving.

"Sacrifices?" Ginny asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she looked around her, searching for them. The dark stories of her parents playing through her mind.

"None of that nonsense, now, Ginevra." Muriel said sharply, tapping her on the head. "Animals, not people. It's no different than slaughtering a chicken for your Sunday dinner."

"Oh…Alright then. Sorry." She apologized, blushing behind her mask. While she didn't relish watching animals die. She did live on a farm. A sacrifice to magic would if anything be of a greater purpose then a sacrifice for her belly.

Around the edges of the glade there were tables laden with food and drink, smaller fires were everywhere - groups of witches and wizards sitting around them chatting and drinking. All wearing masks and looking quite posh. Even as they sat on logs and rocks and ate with their fingers off wooden plates.

Muriel noticed what she was watching and chuckled. "Nothing artificial here today, child. We're celebrating magic and nature, life and death - the beginning and end of all things. Even our clothing is from magical beasts or plant matter, those rubies you're wearing - created by pure magic." She watched the circle of children sitting around the bonfire and gave Ginny a push, "Socialize, use only first names - it's rude to enquire about family names on Samhain - there are no blood enemies on this night."

Ginny awkwardly walked forward, feeling out of place as she gawked at everything she saw - she could feel the magic here. A new experience for her. It was like a tingling feeling all over her skin - a feeling of her breathing being just that tad bit heavier. A presence in the air.

As Hogwarts was in session only kids her age or under could attend this gathering - Ginny nervously approached, knowing that she might have future classmates in this circle - and her mask did nothing to hide her hair. There really weren't many gingers in wizarding Britain. Still her month of lessons kicked in enough to at least approach with a straight back and confident stride, entering the circle, "Mind if I join you?" She asked, sitting down gingerly on a log at the group's consent - next to a girl with chestnut brown hair and a dark green dress fidgeting on the log next to her, wearing a cat-sìth mask as well, although in a lighter color.

"We match! And where did you get that dress!? It's amazing, I'm sooo jealous, my parents wouldn't let me wear any jewels at all! Anyway my name's Astoria, what's yours?" Her squirming log partner fired off in one breath, hands waving excitedly in the air.

Ginny smiled, relieved, she didn't seem so bad after all, "My name's Ginny, and I think it's an antique actually. My great aunt got it out of the family vault for me."

Astoria bounced on the log, running a hand along the fabric of Ginny's dress all the way down to her knee, making Ginny blush, none of her lessons had covered that! Was it normal for pureblood celebrations to practically feel each other up!?

"Astoria, your sister will have a heart attack if she finds out you broke customs that badly - hands off the poor girl - she's no idea how to deal with you." A boy across from them, wearing an Acromantula mask said, sounding amused.

Astoria scoffed, "Daphne won't hear about it will she, Lysander?" She said threateningly, Lysander, the boy in the Acromantula mask, simply laughed in response. Astoria turned to Ginny again, giggling, "My apologies, Ginny was it? I sometimes act before I think!" She said cheerfully.

"Sometimes?" Acromantula boy coughed out, the group all laughing. Ginny giggled along, it was kind of funny - she never thought the stuck up purebloods she always heard about would be so relaxed and cheerful.

"No harm done, it's nice to meet you, why, we're practically best friends already - since you're getting so familiar with me." Ginny teased gently. Smiling underneath her mask when the group broke out laughing again.

"Deal!" Astoria said brightly, hugging Ginny's side, making Ginny look around the group confusedly. Unsure of what deal she'd struck. How had she even struck a deal - had she missed some hidden pureblood thing between the lines?

Lysander was laughing so hard he was leaning onto the shoulder of the boy in a Hippogriff mask next to him, "You're stuck with her now! Never give Astoria an opening - she's as devious as they come!"

"I'm not devious, I've just decided Ginny is my best friend now." Astoria said haughtily, her nose in the air.

"Do I get a say?" Ginny asked, bemused. Relieved it was something so silly and not an undercurrent she'd missed.

Lysander shrugged, "Sure, you could move to France." He teased, laughing as Astoria tossed a pinecone at him.

"She's been looking for a girlfriend her age for ages, she thinks the Carrow twins are creepy." The boy in the Hippogriff mask said, he nodded towards Ginny, "Well met in magic, my name is Silvanus."

"Well met in magic." Ginny parroted back, finding that she didn't feel silly at all saying it. It felt almost empowering to be so fully immersed in magical culture, her culture. And now she realized that together with touching her - Astoria had also broken customs by being so familiar and not using the proper greetings.

She smirked, if Astoria was from those proper pureblood families she'd always heard about - her parents must be driven absolutely sparse dealing with her. It felt nice to be hugged though, the warmth of Astoria against her made her feel a little less lonely. Having not seen or heard from her family. She hugged the girl back and just sat and enjoyed the chatter. Soaking it all in.

---

Astoria soon dragged her away from the group - excitedly chattering the entire time. Ginny hardly got a word in at all, but she followed along anyway. She was learning a lot just listening - and Astoria was perfectly pleasant to be around so it wasn't like she really minded.

She was dragged to the refreshment tables and handed a smoking goblet of a burgundy red drink - Astoria giggling at her dubious sniffing off said drink before drinking it, it was apparently a spiced fruit juice, a thousand years old recipe that was traditionally served only during especially magical days - or so Astoria explained as Ginny carefully sipped it. Astoria gulped it down in big mouthfuls with the same excitement she had for anything so far.

The spices gave her a warm pleasant feeling that suffused through her, even as she couldn't identify what fruits exactly made up the juice - she was tickled pink by the fact she could drink straight through her mask like the fabric wasn't even there! Even though the Burrow had magic all around - it didn't have such showy or just cool effects as she's seeing here.

She'd barely had more than a couple mouthfuls of the tasty and warming drink, before Astoria slid her hand into hers and dragged her off to dance by the bonfire - a haunting melody had started to play, the fast paced melody the cause of frantic movements from the gathered wizards and witches. Ginny briefly noticed the small band of wizards and witches playing on ancient looking instruments, before she too was swept away in the excitement and heady feeling in the air. It felt odd having such a melancholy tune be so fast paced.

This wasn't ballroom dancing - and despite having no idea what she was doing - Ginny jumped around and danced - doing motions she'd be horribly embarrassed by if she was on the outside looking in. She could feel the spices on her lips still - almost burning, although pleasantly. Her heart was beating wildly, her hair flying around her as she and Astoria were lost in the crowd, both screaming in jubilation at the sky as the beat of the music played in time with the beats of their hearts. Fast paced, thrumming deeply, it was as if the entire glade was one big beating heart.

She was briefly aware of the animals being brought to the outside of the circle of revelers - gasping in shock and exhilarated joy as she felt her magic join with Astoria and with the wizards and witches around her - even great aunt Muriel had appeared next to her, joining her, holding her hand as blood raced through the furrows into the bonfire. Turning the flames pure white. Ginny's entire body was tingling, as the magic within her swelled. She was being swept away in the current, just following along, her magic euphoric.

"We sacrifice in praise for all magic, for the earth, for life and death and the cycle of all things." A wizard called out over the revels. "We honor our ancestors - our magic and theirs, never lost, never forgotten!"

"Never forgotten!" Came the roar of the crowd, Ginny looked around her as the majority of the crowd brought out trinkets of bone from their robes and dresses, holding them aloft. The heady feeling in the air turned more somber - the fast paced thrumming of the joined hearts of the crowd simmering down as if the entire night was holding its breath.

Muriel bent down to whisper in her ear, "Samhain is the night where the veil is the thinnest, dear. They'll throw the bones into the fire one by one and be able to commune with someone on the other side for a short while.'

"We didn't bring anything for that…" Ginny said, watching as the first wizard threw his trinket into the fire - the man seemingly in a trance for but a moment - before he bowed his head and stepped away - allowing the next reveler to step up. "It's not … Really bones of their family is it?"

Muriel chuckled hoarsely, "No, magic in this way grasps the intent - a full sacrifice is not needed on Samhain for simple communication, a gift of bone is enough, mind it has to be a magical creature or you won't succeed in reaching the other side." Muriel patted her on the head, "As for myself I have no one I need to talk to that desperately, and I didn't prepare one for you, as you'd not have taken it well to be handed a trinket of bone before arriving here."

Ginny watched in silence, the magic within her still feeling connected to the group - buzzing and swelling in crescendos - rising whenever a new trinket was sacrificed in the sanctified flames. The haunting melody was still being played - but at a slow mournful pace now. Matching with the slower more deliberate feeling of the magic surrounding them and connecting them.

Ginny shivered, it felt like something so much bigger than her, the longer it went on and the longer she felt it - the less sure of the world and her place in it she was. She'd been raised to believe something that now seemed to be false. Magic was alive - magic blessed them. She wasn't sure what to think.

It took over an hour for the communion with the dead to finish - Ginny breathing heavily by the time it was growing to an end, her extremities were buzzing, she could feel every strand of her hair, she tasted magic on her tongue, she could practically see it around everyone. The building magical crescendo of the night invading her entire being.

Everyone joined into a circle around the bonfire - holding hands, Ginny found Astoria on one side and her great aunt on the other and grasped their hands fiercely. Almost vibrating on the spot - she could feel the magic around them exulting in joy and grief and she could feel tears running down her face even as she smiled. Grief for lost ancestors and family - joy for their magic continuing on in them, the feeling seemed shared between them all - Ginny didn't even participate in contacting an ancestor and still keenly felt the grief and loss - as well as the love and hope, and the promise to continue on.

Without any ceremony or sign - the bonfire shone brightly like a star - before firing a beam of light into the sky, blinding her, by the time she blinked her eyes there was no bonfire in the glade any longer. She turned to ask her great aunt if that was it - when suddenly her magic surged, Ginny's eyes rolling back in her head as the entire group felt the blessing of magic upon them. It felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before - like being smothered in approval and praise, she could feel the ground beneath her toes - taste the air - see beyond the sky into the vastness of stars. She felt beyond powerful.

It was too much and Ginny fell to her knees, gasping for breath - before she passed out she noted briefly that at least she wasn't the only one.

---

Cheers

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

Bug Apocalypse,

The obligatory Amy and Taylor join up and destroy the universe starter kit.

Or the Taylor supervillain origin story that's been done a thousand times.

Another drabble I took on and ultimately decided not to make a full story as there's six billion Taylor does bugs - but even harder - stories out there.

Warnings as usual that this is Worm, so it can get wormy, some light torture lots of angsting and the like.

Enjoy.

---

Where had it all gone so wrong? Taylor couldn't really answer that question. There were just so many possible answers. If she had to pick one, maybe when her mom had died, because everything had gone downhill after that. Her dad had checked out, so she'd had to learn to take care of herself, in a way her childhood died right then and there. It certainly qualified as going wrong.

Taylor looked at her blood stained fingers with a curious frown, her fingers weren't even shaking, she was supposed to be upset, she knew that. That's a normal reaction. She almost giggled, normal, that's not something that Taylor Hebert could even pretend to qualify as now - if she could have for a long while now, even.

It wasn't normal, to just… Allow everything. Not fight back. Not giving up either. Just allowing it, over and over. Allowing her best friend cum sister, to turn into a nightmare that stalked her everywhere she went, pointing out her flaws, prodding her apart with smug viciousness. It wasn't normal to not rely on her father for help, the authorities, the adults around her, then again it wasn't normal for those authorities to actively assist the monsters either. So who could say what normality was.

She'd been a different person then, she thought morosely, as she hugged her knees, sitting next to her, watching her. Or does she count as a her anymore? Taylor doesn't know what she's supposed to feel, if she's supposed to feel anything or if that is normal?

Sophia, Madison, and… Emma… Taylor had barely survived them, months and months and on and on, neverending, small minor annoyances evolving into a never-ending miasma of dread and self hatred she could never climb out of.

How could she be so weak? Had been a thought she'd gone over many times, until it had changed, until she'd just naturally accepted it, what she was, what they said. She instead just hunkered down, took notes, but didn't do anything anymore, gave up. If not quite on life - then on everything else. Went day by day, accepting her nightmare, dying a little more for everything that happened, but unable to finally stand up, fight back.

What was the point? They wouldn't stop, they'd shown they'd escalate, especially Sophia. And no matter what, she wouldn't get Emma back… Emma who knew just how to hurt. How to twist the knife.

The flute had been… Taylor almost laughed as she sat there, now, it seemed minor, considering things. But back then it had been almost enough to have her finally give up, to just lash out. But she'd ended up continuing on, heartbroken, but steadfast in her belief that fighting back did nothing good.

Maybe it would have all gone better if she'd done it back then. Lashed out, fought back. She'd probably have been expelled, because the trio would have laid all the blame at her feet and had everyone testify on their behalf, but would that have been so bad? Her dad would have been disappointed but… Taylor already knew all about disappointment - it was survivable.

She did actually let out a giggle at that thought. Survivable. Hah. "Maybe you'd appreciate that little joke, Emma?" She sniffled out through giggles, talking to the other girl. Not that it mattered much.

Taylor was a survivor, she must be. She survived the locker after all - although she didn't think all of her had, not really. She shuddered, automatically moving along, refusing to think of that time, the horror, the awakening of her powers at the point when her life was at what she thought was the absolute bottom.

Unfortunately moving past it didn't brighten up her viewpoint. Tears continued falling, it was only days in there before she'd gotten out of the hospital. Alone.

Because her life was a cosmic joke. Her apathetic, barely there, father, had finally shown some care for her existence, rushing to the hospital in a panic when the school called him. (First time the school ever took any action on her behalf, it ironically enough, screwed her, go figure)

He rushed straight down a street where a cape fight was in progress. With predictable results.

Taylor had been discharged early from the hospital so she could attend the funeral. Having to fight hard to not laugh the entire time, standing there, next to her. Who might as well have killed him, by trying to kill Taylor. But in fact, she knew. She'd killed him herself, if she'd stood up for herself, if she'd fought back, if she'd told him and made him listen. The locker wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have rushed into a cape fight trying to get to her.

She'd killed him. With her inaction. Timidity, weakness. Her. She'd done this. Because she hadn't been strong. Because the trio had been right. She hadn't been strong enough. Clung to morality and what was right. Refusing to fall down to their level. It had cost her everything.

She'd now killed her mom by calling her when she'd been driving, and killed her dad, why she'd never killed herself and saved everyone the problems she wondered, it would have been a simpler solution.

If she'd broken, or just listened, or ran away. Any of them. This wouldn't have happened. She'd been a coward. Just taking it all because inaction was safer than any action with an unknown result.

And then came the kicker of it all, the final straw that broke everything. A soft hand had compassionately laid on her shoulder as she stared down at the closed casket being lowered into the ground, the whispered words that damned her even further.

Zoe Barnes telling her that the will gave the Barnes's custody of her. Because she'd stupidly never told her dad that Emma was the creator of her ever living nightmare. That having Jack Slash as her new stepparent would be preferable - her own fault again.

She'd turned, stiff and pale and filled with dread. Seen the absolutely brimming cruel delight that had lit up behind the polite veneer of sadness in her former best friend's eyes at the idea of having Taylor available 24/7.

They'd be sharing a room. Zoe wanted Taylor to have companionship right now, so she wouldn't be alone. Emma had volunteered her room in a syrupy sweet voice, so many promises hidden beneath that only Taylor heard.

Maybe if she hadn't had everything already hit her so close together - she would have been able to hold it in. To just swallow it down again. Like she had before. To just accept that her lot in life was to suffer.

But right then, the only thing she'd thought when she'd seen Emma's smile was one thing.

I'll kill you! A wave of hatred expanding from her like she'd never let loose before.

Her limit had finally been reached, the locker, her dad dead because of her, the prospect of torture night and day forever, she'd finally not been able to take it anymore and lashed out.

Taylor looked around her, before she slowly used a nearby gravestone to lever herself up, knees weak, eyes peering around at the empty graveyard. She needed to get out of here before someone came looking.

For a villain…

Like her.

She was damned now, and she wasn't even sure she felt bad about it. At least the priest had already been long gone by the time her power had activated without her realizing it. It was so new, only days old, and she hadn't even experimented with it, so numb with her dad's death, she hadn't even realized at first she'd used it.

But her power had shown itself quickly, responding to her subconscious and in the moment conscious wish to do harm.

The only victims were the Barnes's at least. A mass of insects, ants, wasps, flies, everything nearby, had, at her thought, swarmed over them, stinging, crawling into their orifices, slicing and biting. By the time Taylor's shock wore off they were already dying.

Taylor had gotten to see something she'd fantasized about some dark lonely nights, even if briefly and never with a real wish to see it. Emma's horrified face, eyes pleading up at Taylor, as she died for her crimes.

Died because of Taylor's weakness, because again something bad had happened because of Taylor. Because she hadn been strong enough.

Revenge only tasted like ashes, or maybe that was the numbness speaking, she still hadn't felt fully human since her dad died.

There was no going back. She should feel bad for Zoe and Alan, she supposed. And Anne, she'd left her an orphan wherever she was that she hadn't made it today. But in her mind she could only think, they'd seen Emma everyday, and never seen the monster, and would have allowed her full access to Taylor.

She just… Wasn't sad they were gone. Just sad for the people they'd used to be back when Emma hadn't been the creature roaming her mind, delighting in every small cruelty inflicted.

She supposed that made her a supervillain in thought as well as deed. Because she knew people should be horrified at murdering someone. Taylor definitely didn't want to kill innocent people. And she wouldn't. She was pretty sure. This had been an accident, more like involuntary manslaughter than anything. But Alan and Zoe were already dead, and she just didn't… Care.

She'd changed in the last few days, from locker to graveyard. Taylor had died twice in a week - metaphorically, she didn't even know who she was now.

And Emma… Taylor once again bent over the corpse, the eyes forever dimmed of light now, the normally cruel turn of her lips instead set in a rictus of horror. She brushed some blood away, or she tried, only succeeding in smearing it across her cheek. "I'm sorry, Emma. For the person you were, and for letting you turn me into this. It's my fault, I should have stood up to you, punched you. Something." She sighed, and stood up, feeling all the insects around her, her weird power, controlling bugs of all things, it was easy to sink into the feeling, her heart felt less heavy, the sadness sank away.

She set them onto eating the bodies, only wincing slightly as she began to walk away. She didn't know how much they could destroy, but somehow she knew that they'd continue to follow her order until it's end, even if she left. She couldn't go back to a normal life now either way. Either the authorities found the bodies or bones or whatever - and would look for her as a murderer. Or they'd find nothing, the bugs having taken care of it - in which case it would be a missing persons case, and they'd still look for her. And if found, they'd wonder why only she could be found.

She'd always wanted to be a Hero. For a long time it was for the same reason any little girl wanted to. For the fame and the idealistic views of heroics. Then, Emma had been transformed, had come after her with Sophia and Madison, and it had been an escape. The thought of becoming a Hero being an escape from her normal life - which was completely down the drain.

Now… She'd murdered people. And although Emma had been a horrible person. She hadn't deserved to be slaughtered by a swarm of insects. Taylor didn't know if it was her dad's death or her power that made her emotions so dull right now, but as she left the graveyard behind, she was thankful.

She didn't know if she could handle being a homeless supervillain murderer if she could feel things like a normal person.

Taylor Hebert was dead, she went into the dirt with her dad, half of her left behind in a toxic locker to begin with.

Whatever she was now, kept walking.

---

Taylor didn't know how villains found a lair, but she couldn't exactly afford to be picky, not with the situation she was in. She already knew that without her dad, the dockworkers association would begin falling apart as the gangs moved in, he'd been the one tirelessly working, helping each and every member, keeping the gangs out by being the ever stubborn and unbribable head of hiring - he had aggressively vetted each potential member and kept track of current members to make sure they didn't stay in the union if they sold out.

He'd put down a lot of work for the union… Taylor tried not to think about how it felt that she'd barely gotten ten percent of an effort from her dad compared to his real child - the union and his efforts for the ferry and the dock revitalization.

God, was it a wonder how she was so fucked up? She'd killed her former best friend and her family over her dad's grave - and she didn't even feel anything. Unless tired counted as a feeling. Resentment filled her as she walked closer towards the docks, her dad's real home.

Brockton Bay was a shit hole by any standard, there wasn't much honest work to go around, she knew that from hearing her dad rant for years now. And without Danny Hebert to fight tooth and nail for the common dock worker. They'd all be gone soon enough, or part of a gang. Maybe that's why he'd fought so hard, because he knew no one else could, or would.

Maybe that's why her feet took her there on autopilot. As she walked, her mind was on the insects that she connected to as she walked through the city. Escaping into the swarm was preferable to being Taylor, so she played with it, ordering bugs to do silly things out of her sight, so she wouldn't be caught if someone figured something out. She'd quickly realized at that point that she could actually sense things through her insect army. Even if it wasn't quite like sight, or hearing. Not human senses anyway. It took some getting used to, but she had time.

Nothing but time now.

Bug control didn't seem like something that would make her last long before some other villain took her out, or a hero took her in if she actually tried to fight, so hunkering down somewhere and researching her power seemed a better bet.

Lung would eat her alive. What could bugs do to that? Armsmaster could probably build some super cool tinkertech bug zapper and take her down in five minutes.

As she kept walking, people paid no notice to yet another dirty teen in a hoodie in Brockton Bay, she thought about her power.

Bug control. She'd seen it could be dangerous. The Barnes's could attest to that. She grimaced slightly at that thought, because straight out murder was how a villain got caught quick. The authorities went after those kinds of villains hard. Unless they were the Slaughterhouse Nine variety.

She had an uncomfortable feeling that the likes of Jack Slash would actually love a cape able to send a biblical plague ahead of them when they terrorized towns across America. Further proof that she'd need to figure herself out and be careful and not run around in spandex and draw attention to herself.

She didn't know much about insects, something which she would need to change. But if she could control them, couldn't she breed them, perhaps? Evolve them? Something that could knock people out? Wasps with knockout stings? Ants that inject a paralysis effect with a bite? It was worth investigating. Because Taylor didn't want to be a murderhobo. And if she was going to be a villain instead of a Hero, ( like she had a choice) she'd at least be as cool a villain as someone with bug control could be.

She had a pretty good grasp of the area around the dockworkers association - and therefore knew of a couple warehouses that were empty, and pretty covered with debris and junk. The kind where no one had bothered cleaning it out, or moving in. A place as good as any for Taylor to bunk down in for now, while she figured things out. The dockworkers were technically within ABB territory, but Lung never really pushed against the surrounding area, it was just warehouses and blue collar workers - apparently not worth anything to him.

Or they weren't Asian enough or something.

Someone would budge in once the dockworkers started to fracture, Taylor bet on the Empire being the ones to do it however. A majority of the dockworkers association were of white working class guys and gals, perfect recruitment material for the Nazi bastards now that her dad wasn't there to stop them by keeping the dockworkers united, and the workers would eventually be desperate enough to look for any work soon enough.

Taylor had been around enough, listening, while her dad had been on the phone at home, fighting with city hall, with big business and with the higher ups in the union. She knew they'd be fucked now without him and his rule lawyering and incorruptible leadership.

She pondered for a moment if she could make a gang out of them all, she was a villain after all, but immediately discarded it. She controlled bugs. She wasn't the type that could become a gang leader like Kaiser and Lung. Far from it. She was probably a support player if anything. The thought was depressing, even becoming someone with superpowers she had to get a Taylor power - not enough to do anything worthwhile with.

She'd have to let go of all those people her dad had protected with his ability to pull jobs out of thin air to keep them barely afloat. She couldn't help them. She couldn't help herself.

She hadn't been able to help herself for awhile now. She felt her depression more keenly the longer she thought about it, what exactly did she think she'd be able to do? Hide away forever in the docks?

She sighed deeply as she walked up to the warehouse in question that she'd chosen. A veritable horde of garbage and junk metal covering the yard, up against the walls of the warehouse. Even the big double doors were blocked by several stacked up junk cars. Taylor knew the way in though, had found it playing around as a kid when her Dad had been taking her to work and she'd snuck off to play hide and seek.

She wasn't as small anymore, but she found that her thin gangly frame fit just as well as a small child through the small crawl space between the rubble and junk. The inside of the warehouse was less junky, filled with darkness and large shapes that she knew was a bunch of empty crates all stacked together.

She felt her way through the darkness, feeling the insane amount of bugs around her in this area, in fact, she'd been surprised in general walking here, how many bugs were around at all times. Feeling slightly icky about it, but wanting something under her head, she formed a pillow of sorts by a cloud of cockroaches ordering them to stay in that position as she laid down, exhaustion beating out the cold and uncomfortable sleeping area and sending her into sleep almost immediately.

---

The first few days were easier than Taylor had expected, but perhaps that was down to how detached she felt about everything. She just couldn't feel anything anymore, she wasn't sure what she'd done, or if it was part of her power, but she just couldn't feel anything very strongly.

She hadn't left the warehouse at all over the last few days, completely focusing on her power. She had no power or running water of course, just a completely dark and dreary warehouse full of empty containers and assorted junk. Thankfully, bugs really did follow her every thought and command. So she'd been able to send them out, part of her mind along for the ride, using their senses.

Her power apparently let her multitask to an insane degree as she continued to experiment with spiders, ants and wasps in her lair, while her marching army explored outside, looking for food and water for her. As she knew her way around several blocks around the area she was in - she easily found the dockworkers association building.

If she still had anyone at all or cared about anything other than her power, maybe she'd feel bad about stealing from her dad's workplace. But as it was, she had eagerly prodded her millions of minions onward, bringing back water bottles and bags of chips as well as a jar of peanut butter for her. Not ideal for nutrition, but Taylor had cockroaches as a pillow, so beggars couldn't be choosers. At least she'd figured out how to make bugs eat dirt and sweat off her body, so she didn't have to waste her drinking water on washing herself - even if it felt disgusting to have creepy crawlies crawl all over her in the process.

Taylor had been a normalish girl at some point. Spiders and creepy crawlies were probably one of her least favorite things, but life was suffering. She got over it.

At least after a few days of gathering up more and more spiders and having them create more the natural way - she had spider silk galore. Much more comfortable to lay on than cockroaches. She'd eventually made a hammock out of the material, her flock of spiders helping her attach it between two metal poles at the back of the warehouse. Fireflies gave her at least a modicum of light to work in even if she had to gather a whole bunch together to make it worth anything.

She'd found that she had a couple blocks of a radius where she could feel and direct any bugs, after a certain point she'd just lose control if she made them move past the boundaries. She wished she had more, but felt she couldn't complain too much, a couple blocks had an insanely large amount of minions for her to use after all.

The bugs would just do whatever if she didn't take control, unless she'd given them an order, than even if she stopped paying attention or let them leave the area, they still continued on with her orders until she gave a different order.

It meant she could technically send bugs outside her limit of a couple blocks - but she wouldn't be able to sense them or change their order again. They'd be outside her control, still following whatever order. Food for thought, but dangerous. If she sent a swarm outside of her sense range, perhaps someone could catch on what she was, or figure it out somehow, because a swarm was much more likely to be caught doing something without her along for the ride to send orders. Didn't matter much for single bugs, who noticed if a fly behaved oddly?

What she really wanted to do for her own abilities - was break into the Brockton Bay zoo to get ahold of some of the more dangerous kinds of insects and arthropods. She wanted to feel safe again. Even if she didn't want to be the kind of villain who killed randomly, as a bug controller what could she do without dangerous bugs?

Brown recluse spiders, scorpions, bulldog ants and fire ants, she wanted them all. But she'd held back. Because she didn't dare leave her warehouse yet, she didn't have enough of a way to defend herself. What if a hero was looking for her? And she didn't have a costume either. Also, she was reluctant to add absolutely lethal arthropods to her swarm - other than the black widows and murder hornets she already had. What if she lost control by accident?

For her own safety she already had the black widows setting up shop high up in the rafters of the southeastern corner of the warehouse, far away from her, ordered to reproduce and not kill each other and continue to spin silk for her eventual costume. With black widow spider silk about as good as kevlar, she figured it was worth a shot to use her own product.

Likewise her group of murder hornets were also given their own little corner, reproducing slowly and well away from Taylor. Her more non lethal bugs worked 24/7 on bringing food to her most important swarm members. Which in many cases involved walking themselves into the webs of her black widows for dinner, which Taylor couldn't help but find funny in a creepy kind of way.

Taylor had figured out pretty quickly what her biggest weakness would be. She had nothing but time after all, sitting in the darkness, just a couple fireflies giving her some light to see by. If she lost her swarm, she had nothing. And picking up more bugs as she moved through the city was something, but it wouldn't be nearly as good, as she couldn't guarantee the composition.

A swarm of cockroaches and flies would do a lot less to protect her than if she could field everything she had. She was a multitasker with her swarm. It was her best advantage, being able to fight with dozens of different plans through millions of different minions at the same time. Attacking and defending from multiple points at the same time.

Something she had practiced over the last few days, if only in gathering her bugs together into a shield in front of her and practicing big swipes of a mass of bugs to push things away from her. She mostly used cockroaches and beetles for it since she knew they had a carapace at least.

It wouldn't do anything against a cape but might work against people with guns.

Fighting for her wouldn't be nearly as effective without a good balance in her swarm. Ideally she needed to set up places across town that held her bugs. Create an area for them to breed and eat and grow and perform tasks for her, independently, just following her last orders until she got into range and could call them into battle. Either that or find a way to control them over a larger area…

That was a pipe dream really. Taylor fantasized about taking the city by storm, cleaning up the gangs. She had time and nothing but time after all.

In the end she was just dreaming, just like the zoo which she couldn't break into, not really. She'd failed at everything so far, she couldn't take that step, really go full villain. Even if she was one by her actions, however accidental. She couldn't just… Be evil.

She continued to play with her power, in the dark warehouse, wrought with indecision.

Her bug minions multiplied more and more by the hour, following their orders loyally as Taylor worked on understanding her power for want of anything else to do.

Another night fell.

---

Sophia was angry, no, she was beyond that. She was filled with hate as she worked her way through the docks, slipping into shadow form to get through the walls of the derelict warehouses, checking one more off her mental to do list.

They'd finally succeeded in breaking that wimp, at least, she'd been pretty sure they had. Emma had been on such a beautiful high the few days after the locker, knowing they did that, they showed that loser her proper place finally. Sophia had felt smug in the knowledge that she'd picked correctly, that Emma was a real predator. The way she'd absolutely crushed her former friend proved it, casting off the shackles of weakness that the little puke had held over her friend proved it. The way the whole school had come to realize it as well proved it.

Sophia and Emma, they were the predators, the whole school knew it, even the teachers backed off from them, Sophia felt like she could have shot one with a cross bolt and probably walked away from it. The power had felt liberating - what with the pussies at the PRT shackling her in her nightlife. The bastards were too afraid to do what was right, taking down the scum in Brockton Bay.

They couldn't do it like Shadow Stalker could, Emma understood it, she'd backed Sophia to the tilt. Been her sounding board, her backup.

And then she'd gotten the call from Emma, the wimps dad had croaked it because of trying to get to the loser's hospital bed after the locker. Just like how Emma had told her she'd killed her mom by calling her when she was driving - she'd killed her dad too, it was too funny for words. Emma had been so happy, Sophia hadn't been able to stop laughing the entire phone call. The government was putting the fucking weak-willed trash girl with Emma! They'd talked about plans half the night, Emma promising to fill Sophia in after the funeral.

Then… Nothing.

Emma hadn't answered her phone. Her texts. Sophia had sent fucking emails, knocked at her door, she even went at night and fucking shadow stalked into her bedroom. Fucking nothing.

Until she finally ran into Anne at the house one evening. Emma's older sister. And found out that they were all missing, and had never returned after the funeral. Then she knew.

Emma was dead.

That fucking loser must have triggered, standing over the grave of the loser dad she'd killed, the guilt finally sending her over the edge.

She knew Emma's dad was a lawyer and everything, they wouldn't just fuck off like that, and with Taylor fucking Hebert too? Nah, Sophia knew. Fucking trigger event, with Emma standing right there. The proper predator, but powerless, something Sophia had figured would change eventually and they'd kick ass together. And now that would never happen.

The wimp must have orgasmed with fucking delight with her luck at gaining powers with Emma right there. And Sophia was going to shove a crossbow bolt up her cunt when she found her, pay her back for daring to cheat and go after a real predator, a rabbit destroying a wolf through pure dumb shit fucked luck.

That's why she was trawling through every shit warehouse around the dockworkers association, no way the loser would go off the reservation, she'd go somewhere she felt comfortable. And through Emma, Sophia knew everything about the piece of shit.

Shadowing through another wall, she couldn't help the hungry grin that flashed onto her face under the mask. She heard a voice somewhere in the warehouse, quiet and mumbling to itself, but a voice that could only be one thing.

She readied her crossbow in anticipation. She always enjoyed this. But this time… This time she was going to take her time.

---

Taylor had started talking to her grouping of fireflies, lacking any better conversationalist partners at the time. Sitting by her hammock, trying to work through what she should do, what kind of villain she could be, without being too much of one. Or maybe the heroes didn't even know? Maybe she could at least be independent?

She suddenly lost her breath as something flew into her out of nowhere, knocking her back, pushing her back against the rusted wall of the warehouse. She cried out in pain as the jagged edges cut into her back. A cry that turned into a shriek as something lanced through her hand, blinding pain shooting up her arm as she stared down at a crossbow bolt through her hand, pinning it to the wall behind her, the still vibrating bolt barely visible in the low lighting provided.

"Yeah, that's nothing yet." A malevolent voice hissed from within the darkness. Slow measured steps sounding out as whoever it was came closer.

Taylor cried out in pain and fear as another bolt flew and another flash of searing pain hit her. Her other hand was also nailed to the wall, her heart beating wildly as she struggled to draw a breath, shock and panic taking her thoughts away, she didn't even think to use her swarm as she stood there, nailed down and crying. "W-why!?" She cried out, "W-who are y-you?"

The figure stepped forward into the light provided by the fireflies, instantly recognisable in her cloaked visage, her black bodysuit with the black painted metal mask revealing her identity. A crossbow raised and pointed straight at Taylor.

"Shadow Stalker!? Why are you doing this, you're a hero!?" Taylor cried out in disbelief. She didn't even really notice as the pain lessened, automatically shuffling it off into her swarm as she focused on the impossibility in front of her.

Shadow Stalker was a ward. A hero. They didn't stake random girls to warehouse walls. Taylor's brain just didn't compute the situation. Even if she knew she was a villain already, this wasn't the response a new villain got.

"Heh." Shadow Stalker scoffed, walking right up to Taylor, pushing the crossbow right up against her jugular, the hero's athletic body pushed right up against Taylor's. "Some people just deserve it, don't you agree?" She growled out, her head raised back aggressively in an oddly familiar way.

Taylor ignored the pain from the hero's body pushing hers, which exacerbated her wounds. Her whole body shaking on its own in a state of shock, and fear. "Wh-What?" She managed to mumble, feeling the sharp tip of the bolt right against her carotid artery. That voice… She recognized it. From her nightmares. But it couldn't be. It wasn't possible!

Still holding her crossbow against Taylor, Shadow Stalker used her other hand to undo the bindings to her mask, letting it drop with a clatter to the filthy warehouse floor. Taylor's heart dropped into her feet at the same time as her brain froze in fear and hatred. Mostly hatred.

Sophia Hess smirked at Taylor, eyes brimming with disgust. "I asked you a question, you piece of shit! You deserve this, right?"

Taylor ignored the threat to her life, snarling at the fake, in front of her, "That's a ward you're impersonating! Are you crazy Sophia? Well crazier?" She knew it was weak even as she spat it out. She'd been shot, expertly, by crossbow bolts. She'd been tracked down, Sophia had come into the warehouse somehow. But she just couldn't, she couldn't just accept it! Because if… if…

"You're really just a dumb queef aren't you?" Sophia chuckled darkly, "This is the real world you stupid bitch, how do you think we got away with putting you in your place, huh?" Sophia leaned closer, so they were nose to nose, her malicious gaze boring into Taylor's, "It's because it was all approved!" She hissed, chuckling cruelly at Taylor's shocked look. "The PRT, the wards, all of it, it's just another form of a gang." Sophia explained, seemingly drawing pleasure in the horror growing in Taylor's soul, no doubt visible through her eyes. "We blow off our steam on little inconsequential losers like you, just as the gangs do on whatever loser they happen to see, it's all the same, the strong prey on the weak, and you, no matter what fucking power you cheated into, are WEAK!" Sophia yelled the last part into her face, spittle flying all over Taylor.

Taylor shook, her hands spasming around the bolts, the waves of bugs making up their surroundings vibrating along with her, "No, no, no! You're wrong!" She shouted back desperately, "Heroes aren't like that! They aren't!"

Sophia's knee came up, stopping Taylor's protests as she screamed in pain, the strike having made her arms jerk as she tried to bend over, cutting her palms up worse, blood splattering around her. Sophia laughed, seemingly having the time of her life, "Well, we are, most of us. Usually not this bad though, you're a special case, I don't usually torture people… Much." She said angrily, grabbing Taylor by her hair and slamming her head back, making her back slice itself on the jagged edges further again.

"But you… You deserve it!" Sophia growled, pulling her hand back, making a fist. Before she slammed it forward, Taylor felt her nose break, heard the crunch, tasted the blood on her lips, even through the ringing of her head as it bounced back against the metal wall behind her. Sophia grabbed her by the neck, Taylor could feel her breath against her lips, the two of them almost close enough to kiss, "You killed Emma, you're dying tonight…" Sophia said quietly, her brown eyes intent as she met Taylor's eyes, "You just don't get it, and you'll die not getting it. Hero, Villain, it doesn't matter that much, it's all about if you have the power to do something, and you… Do-AHHH!"

Sophia disappeared into shadow form jumping back into the darkness, Taylor could no longer see her, not with her eyes. But to the senses of her millions of minions she was still visible, out of her breaker form, rubbing her neck where several wasps had struck, when Taylor had realized she might die if she didn't make a move.

With her eyes closed, she still 'felt' it when Shadow Stalker raised her crossbow bolt to fire. With a thought, a variable swarm of bugs swept up in front of her stacking up behind each other forming a shield that the bolt didn't manage to penetrate as it was let loose. But she'd miscalculated, focused on that first bolt, instead of the person firing it. A second bolt from a second crossbow passed by her focused shield and slammed through Taylor's left shoulder, making her cry out and jerk in position, worsening her wounds again.

At the same time a swarm of murder hornets swarmed Shadow Stalker, who tried to escape into her breaker state, but not before suffering several more stings, the ward stumbling out of the breaker state further away in the warehouse. Taylor didn't hesitate, even as she was still pinned to the wall and with her head pounding she ordered her bugs to pin her down. They covered her face, the cape struggling until she lost consciousness. Finally Taylor called them off, the bugs allowing her mouth and nose free again to let her breathe. She organized spiders to bind her with her kevlar strength silk. She needed to have a clear head when she figured out what to do.

She didn't know why she'd been unable to go back into her shadow state, but she'd take what she could.

Because right now she just wanted to murder her. Really really badly. And she didn't want to make a decision she might regret out of pain and fear.

Getting herself loose was a painful endeavor that worsened her wounds. More spider silk was brought to bind her wounds. But she knew she couldn't treat this herself. With a last 'look' at the tied up 'hero' she made her way out of the warehouse, stumbling down the street away from the docks.

She was barely conscious, allowing her bug senses to lead her as she stumbled on, the blood loss and the hit to her head not doing her any favors. It was in the middle of the night, the hospital was too far away.

She started feeling panic. She couldn't die like this, any other day, fine, she deserved as much, but not from Sophia!

Sophia who'd had the backing of the PRT… No she couldn't think of that right now!

In her senses she found a lone person having a cigarette by a parking garage, she stumbled towards them, but fell on her knees halfway there.

"H-help!" She weakly managed to get out, opening her real eyes, her vision blurry as she looked towards the person able to call her an ambulance.

"Holy shit what happened to you?" She heard like it was said through water, she blinked blearily, watching as someone in a white robe with a red cross approached her, still smoking a cigarette.

No… Panacea? She panicked, she'd needed help, but just a regular hospital, regular doctors, not a hero. She tried to get up again, to get away. Her bugs were sent to watch from the distance, by the roofs of the buildings around them to not make her out herself immediately.

Panacea was kneeling over her a minute later, pushing her down as she kept trying to get up, "Lay down, I'm trying to heal you." She snapped, sounding annoyed.

Taylor had lost a lot of blood, she was losing consciousness, she couldn't be found out here like this, not by a hero. Not after everything she heard from Sophia, not after how they'd fucked her.

She sent a thought into her swarm, bring me back home, don't let anyone stop me! She'd take her chances on healing on her own.

Her swarm, mostly having been at the periphery at the end of the block and the rooftops, began rushing their way as Taylor tried to get up again, weakly pushing Panacea away from her.

"You're not going anywhere until I've healed you!" Panacea growled, huffing in exertion as she half laid over Taylor's body to prevent her from getting up again, one hand holding hers, "I'm healing you now, okay, calm down!"

Make her… Taylor's thoughts grew fuzzy as she began losing consciousness, Make her save me… Home…

Everything went dark.

---

"Hey! Wake the fuck up!"

"Hey…. Please!?"

"Bug girl…. PLEASE!"

"Ugh, what? Stop yelling, I'm up." Taylor groaned, rubbing her eyes, what kind of rude person yells to wake someone up. Person… Taylor was suddenly wide awake as she scrambled forward calling as many fireflies as she had nearby to her position as she looked around for the person that shouldn't be here in her lair.

"Let me out of this!" A girl shrieked as Taylor stumbled out into the warehouse proper from the empty container she'd apparently been in.

Slowly the events before she'd lost consciousness came to her, and she watched through her senses with dismay, sending her fireflies forward to confirm with regular eyeballs Mk.1 what was in front of her.

Panacea was hanging from the ceiling, wrapped head to toe in a cocoon of spider silk leaving only her face and hands clear. And she was none too pleased with her position from what Taylor could see.

"Uh, why are you here?" Taylor asked, wincing right away for asking such a stupid question. Give her a break, she just woke up from nearly bleeding to death or something.

Panacea glared at her, barely visible in the poor lighting, "Because apparently my thanks for healing your scrawny ass is to be kidnapped and wrapped up like the world's biggest spider's dinner!" The way she shuddered through those words indicated that might have been a real worry for the girl, which made Taylor feel bad.

Taylor blinked, feeling confused, "But I was unconscious!" She protested weakly, "You're a hero, couldn't you just… Leave…"

Panacea looked done with life, as she slowly spun around, "I tried that, but then your fucking biblical swarm kept dropping killer bees and black widows on me and I took the hint and stopped fighting back!" She growled out in displeasure. "Which led to me being tied up and cocooned for dinner!"

"My swarm… Brought you here?" Taylor asked, feeling completely out of her element. Murder attempts she was fine with, mostly, or at least as used to them as a girl of fifteen could be with two already under her belt. Talking to a girl around her age was much harder - she didn't have much practice in that.

"Ohmygod! Just let me go!" Panacea shouted angrily, "I healed you already, not that your murder swarm would have let me do anything else at that point, I fucking carried you here under threat of death, I even healed Shadow Stalker…" Panacea glared at Taylor as her spinning brought her around facing the right way in that moment, "Which, what the fuck? You are going to be destroyed if you don't let us go right now, a ward and me?" She glared smugly, Taylor wondered how that worked, as Panacea continued, "Especially me! Now hurry it up!"

"Uh, just give me a minute, this is a bit much for me right now." Taylor muttered as she dragged a hand down her face, not even believing what kind of situation she'd found herself in.

"I need to pee." Panacea deadpanned, as she continued to spin, now facing away again, the girl letting out an aggravated sigh as Taylor didn't answer.

She'd been a villain for less then a week and killed a family in sorta revenge if you squinted, kidnapped and almost murdered a ward, and kidnapped the greatest healer in the world. "This is ridiculous even for me." She said quietly to herself, her bug senses showing no one in the area as she had a look around, half expecting Alexandria to be hovering outside.

As she stretched her senses, she came on a bunch of bugs that were odd. When she connected to them, her entire connection wobbled for lack of a better word. The bugs were all hanging around Panacea.

Taylor suddenly understood exactly why Panacea had swarms of murder bees dropped on her. She could change her bugs, somehow. She wasn't a straight up healer, she could alter biology. "What did you do with my bugs?" She asked, feeling a slight bit of relief, she'd been in a corner, but now. Now she had the beginnings of a plan. If she was right.

".... I don't know what you're talking about." Panacea said with a stubborn confrontational look on her face.

"Wow I'm a bad liar, but that's bad even to me, so really, what did you do to them?" Taylor said, stepping closer, peering up at the cocooned healer. With her bug senses she could feel Shadow Stalker similarly bound further away, although still apparently out of it.

"I'm a healer. Let me go before this gets worse for you." Panacea grunted out, but her eyes were slightly panicky, Taylor recognized it, it's how her eyes used to look in the mirror before every school day.

"I think… You're able to alter biology, you tried to escape by changing my bugs somehow, and that's when my swarm started attacking you." Taylor said boldly, disconnecting completely from the weird bugs, because the closer she got, the more messed up her connection was feeling.

Since she'd have been back at the warehouse where her bugs already had standing orders to protect the place - Panacea healing Shadow Stalked probably counted as danger, and she was taken down, then she tried to change her bugs and got herself strung up as her threat level rose. In a way it made Taylor feel better about her power because it showed the versatility she could have with orders already placed for her swarm. Although she'd have to be careful that they didn't do anything too weird behind her back in an attempt to carry her orders out in odd ways.

Like kidnapping people…

"You think you're fucking smart don't you." Panacea grouched, glaring down at Taylor, "So what, you're still not going to survive the shit storm of New Wave and the Protectorate stomping your ass."

"Probably not." Taylor agreed, fully agreeing that as a new villain she wasn't nearly well protected, powerful or connected enough to survive that kind of attention. She tilted her head curiously, letting a short smug smile appear on her face, "But you'd like it even less being called Nilbog junior or Bonesaw lite." She threatened.

She immediately felt bad about it, the way the girl in front of her paled while looking like she was going to get sick reminded Taylor way too much of herself. Taylor quickly waved her hands in front of herself hurrying to clarify, "All I'm saying is there's a way where you and I walk away from this and neither one of us gets hurt."

Panacea pursed her lips, not looking impressed, but also not going on another tirade. Taylor took that as a good sign, "Come on, all I was doing was bleeding out in the street, I didn't even want to kidnap you, do we really need to fight?"

"What about Shadow Stalker?" Panacea asked after a minute of silence, "You almost killed her, if I had been ten minutes later back here she'd have died."

Taylor grimaced, "If you hadn't noticed, she'd done a pretty good job at killing me, I only defended myself, put her out of the fight." Taylor hated that she sounded defensive, Sophia deserved to be eaten by a swarm if anyone did.

"I did notice, but it doesn't justify you killing her, you were able to stop me without doing it." Panacea said disapprovingly.

"You stopped at the threat of potential harm, Shadow Stalker wouldn't have. She was here to kill me." Taylor snapped, not wanting to be lectured about the person that almost murdered her.

"She wouldn't have, she's a ward." Panacea said with absolute surety.

Taylor couldn't help but laugh, almost sinking to the floor as she laughed and laughed, tears springing from her eyes. If in the end there was more sniffling than laughing, Panacea at least had the decency not to point it out, although she looked very put out to be captured by the emotional and pathetic villain of the week. Or so Taylor interpreted her completely done look.

"Shadow Stalker terrorized me for a year and a half at school, bullying me, ostracizing me, driving me towards suicide." Taylor screamed suddenly, done herself, shocking Panacea with the outburst, Taylor pacing in front of her cocoon suddenly bursting with nervous energy, arms across her own torso as her voice broke, as she continued describing it, "She and her cohorts grabbed together all the hygiene containers from the girls washrooms, emptied them in my locker, then locked me in there!" She raged, hardly noticing the widening of Panacea's eyes or the disgusted angry look she gained for a moment. "She triggered me!" Taylor shouted up at Panacea, "And last night she tracked me down to kill me!"

Panacea took her time to answer, carefully speaking up once Taylor calmed down slightly, "You could report her." She suggested with a hesitant look in her eyes.

Taylor snorted, "That's worked great so far." She said sarcastically, throwing her arms out, indicating the situation they were in.

Reports against Sophia Hess or the trio didn't do shit in school and she must have had some sort of PRT liaison back then, so why would now that Taylor was a villain, change anything.

"I can't let you kill her either." Panacea said, pausing for a moment, sighing, "I don't think you're lying, which makes what she did unforgivable and disgusting, but she doesn't deserve to be executed." Panacea didn't even manage to look convinced in her own words and she must have known it because she pouted silently instead of continuing on.

Taylor groaned, "I don't want to kill her, not really, but I don't know how else to have her not kill me, she's got the perfect power to assassinate someone!" She pointed her finger angrily at Panacea before she could say anything, "And don't say report her to the PRT! I'm not trusting my life to the people that let her get away with it this entire time."

"...I'm not getting out of the cocoon am I?" Panacea said tiredly.

"Not until I know what I'm doing." Taylor said quietly, "Sorry." She added sheepishly.

Panacea sighed, "This won't end well when they find you." She said, but didn't try and argue the point.

Taylor was well aware of how much shit she'd be in if the heroes found her bug filled lair with two heroes spun up like they were about to be bug food.

Fucking Sophia, even outside of Winslow she just had to fuck Taylor's life up..

---

Two days later.

"I can't believe you." Amy said, shaking her head disapprovingly, although it was somewhat ruined by the small smirk on her face as she sat with Taylor and shared a jar of peanut butter.

The cursing and yelling echoing across the warehouse from where Shadow Stalker was being force fed a variety of bugs was the background noise they were listening to. Taylor wasn't wasting peanut butter on that bitch, that was for damn sure.

"It's protein, perfectly good for you." Taylor said blithely, licking her spoon clean before offering it to Amy for her turn at the food. Bugs would keep Sophia fed, Taylor didn't see an issue. And if she made them wriggle a bit extra on the way down… Well, life's a bitch, Sophia could suck it up.

The warehouse was fairly well lit by now, Amy had spent less than three hours in the cocoon before she'd grown bored enough to offer some assistance just to be let out. Taylor had been hesitant at first, and stayed well out of reach, ready for any kind of betrayal. But it had quickly become apparent that Panacea - or Amy as she'd told her to call her, was actually enjoying herself making her fireflies grow larger and with more varied abilities vis a vis lighting.

She now had bugs capable of becoming floodlights, the fireflies themselves the size of her hand. Of course Amy refused to create anything dangerous, but it still thrilled Taylor with the possibilities. And it greatly enhanced her mood to not be stuck in the constant darkness she'd been previously.

"She doesn't make it sound like it's that good." Amy deadpanned, for some reason a bit red cheeked when accepting Taylor's spoon, which she hesitantly used to scoop a glob of peanut butter into her mouth.

"You fucking whore! Let me out of here!" Shadow Stalker shrieked between feedings, she'd been calling Amy names every waking moment for the past two days. Apparently incensed that Amy wasn't doing anything to fight.

Which was pretty stupid because she was a healer, not a fighter. And if Amy started messing with Taylor or her bugs the swarm would descend on her immediately. But from what Taylor had heard all too often from Sophia now, her stupid predator and prey philosophy demanded action.

"You catch more flies with honey." Amy called out, sharing a smirk with Taylor at the roar of incandescent rage that answered her.

Amy had tried to talk to Shadow Stalker for all of ten minutes at the beginning before realizing that if anything Taylor had undersold how unstable she was. She'd ranted about her philosophy and how Amy should just kill Taylor right then and there because she wasn't worthy of life. Taylor had practically seen all support drain out of Amy as the ten minutes ticked by, until the healer had stomped away and refused to entertain the ward any longer.

"People are freaking out, you know." Amy said, the spoon still in her mouth as she looked at her phone, surfing PHO together with Taylor. "They found my car outside the parking garage."

Taylor had been worried the girl would use it to text or call for help, but she'd seemed remarkably relaxed ever since leaving the cocoon and hadn't even tried to send a message. It weirded Taylor out, it was like the girl was reluctant to go back or something. Might explain why she was out driving in the middle of the night. She was allowed to drive to the hospital but apparently Amy in a fit of rebellion had taken to driving around aimlessly.

Luckily for Taylor that night. Or unlucky depending on how this situation would end up resolving itself. Taylor kind of trusted Amy would keep her mouth mostly shut if she just let the girl go at this point.

The problem was Shadow Stalker.

Taylor couldn't let Sophia go. Neither could she kill her or Amy would turn her in. She definitely wouldn't harm Amy so she was kind of stuck on what to do.

"Your parents must be worried sick." Taylor mumbled, brow furrowed, feeling bad about the situation.

Amy made a wishy washy hand motion, "Carol is probably more worried about the bad reputation hit to New Wave for managing to 'lose' me." She said sarcastically, looking forlorn. "Mark probably hasn't noticed if no one's told him."

Notably to Taylor, Amy didn't call them mom and dad, which freaked her out even more. They were a hero team. They were supposed to be good people. Amy was good people, so how…

"Aren't your parents worried? Did you run away from home to become a villain?" Amy asked, trying to change the subject, looking uncomfortable speaking of her parents.

Taylor sighed bitterly, "I killed my mom, called her while she was driving, she crashed the car." She said succinctly, continuing on before she lost the nerve, a hitch to her voice, "And… I killed my dad too… The locker… He rushed to the hospital… Died on the way…"

"Jesus…" Amy said quietly, putting the peanut butter jar down, sticking the spoon in it, before she reached over and pulled Taylor into a hug. "You know that's not your fault, it really isn't!" She insisted, holding Taylor tightly.

Taylor giggled, sounding somewhat unhinged. "Is it bad I can't remember the last time?" She said despondently.

"The last what?" Amy asked almost gently, for her. She'd been fairly brusque in her mannerisms the last two days.

Taylor sniffed a little, "The last time I had a hug. I can't remember it." She said, trying to remember when she'd had an honest to god hug last and coming up blank. It must have been from before Emma turned evil. Maybe even as far back as her mom dying.

Amy's grip tightened as she hugged her even harder, the frizzy haired girl sighing against Taylor's cheek, "You didn't deserve this, you definitely didn't cause any of it, Taylor. You know you don't have to be a villain, you'd make a pretty good hero."

Taylor chuckled, a bitter undertone to it, waving a hand towards the corner where you could still hear Shadow Stalker's cursing. "No I can't. She'll never let me."

Amy paused, hesitating, before something firm seemed to settle in her visage. "What if I could make her not say anything?" She said, licking her lips briefly, the girl herself looking unsure about what she's offering.

"No." Taylor said strongly, pushing the girl away an arm's length so she could glare at her properly. "That's what a villain would do, I'm not making you become a bad guy over me and my pathetic problems."

Amy gave her an intense look, biting her lip, she seemed almost eager. "You're not pathetic, and it would solve everything, you'd be able to just let me go, you'd be able to be a hero." She argued.

Taylor shook her head stubbornly, "I already accidentally killed people, I can't be a hero, so don't do this for me, it's not worth it." She hated revealing how she was already damned, but she couldn't let Panacea be damned with her.

Amy paused, a conflicted expression on her face, "It was an accident, right?" She asked, and upon seeing Taylor's begrudging nod she soldiered on, "I'm sure with my support we could work something out, the PRT allowed Stalker in the wards, we'll be able to figure something out." She sounded confident, but Taylor was pretty sure she had no actual idea how those kinds of things worked.

Taylor was glad they were talking quietly enough Sophia couldn't hear, she didn't want to imagine how much shit Panacea would be in if it got out she was offering to do… Whatever it was she was offering. "No." She said firmly, glaring at her sort of friend/captive. "I won't let you dirty your hands." She said with finality.

Amy scoffed, "You can't stop me." She said smugly, before gaining a look of intense concentration. And Taylor felt it when something changed, Amy had been holding onto one of her bugs and it was changing.

"What did you do?" Taylor asked with trepidation as she felt the new bug take flight, Taylor immediately taking control of it, her mind assaulted with new capabilities.

Amy looked perfectly smug as she sat back, crossing her arms under her chest, "Well, if you wouldn't let me near Shadow Stalker to keep my hands virgin clean." She said, somewhat mockingly, "I changed one of your bugs so it could do the job for me, and then technically I am not doing it, you, the villain is, my hands are clean." She looked so unbearably smug and righteous too. It annoyed Taylor. Were all the hero's idiots?

Taylor appreciated an upgraded bug, she did. But this was just beyond the pale. Did Amy think at all? "Are you insane?" She hissed at the girl, "You can't go around creating mind control on a whim!" It wasn't quite as easy as that, but she could tell from the bug that it had pheromones that would allow Taylor to pretty much addict Sophia to her if she were to take a guess.

Which was very not okay. What the fuck Amy? And Taylor was the villain in this warehouse, supposedly?

Even as she'd said it, Taylor reluctantly sent the bug to get busy with the ladies, Amy had either forgotten in the rush, or never intended to make the bug sterile. And as much as Taylor detested the idea of influencing or controlling a sentient mind - because she considered her own inviolate, it's why she couldn't stand the idea of drugs because they altered your mind - she would still try to spread the bug strain to a couple more, for a rainy day.

Could save her life one day.

Amy shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable now, but still, her eyes were shiny and her whole demeanor was upbeat, like a weight was off her shoulders. "I feel good about this." She insisted.

"This is a bad idea…" Taylor said, but it was also the only one they had for how to solve this conundrum.

She couldn't just let Sophia walk out.

She couldn't let Amy walk out if she killed Sophia.

This bug and it's new pheromone based system would theoretically solve all their problems.

Creating a whole new set of issues.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Amy questioned brightly. Pushing Taylor to use her creation. She was way too into seeing what her stuff could do, it's like she'd never used it before.

How am I the villain? Taylor thought in frustration, looking from Amy to Sophia and feeling overwhelmed.

This won't end well.

---

Cheers

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

The Other Weasley.

So to double down on Weasley self inserts, here's a Percy one.

Again didn't make it into a full story as it's basically been done to death anyway or similarly anyway.

Odd child out rebelling against his parents, this was made before the Ginny self insert, me believing I made Percy a bit too much of an ass.

Hope you enjoy.

---

I have learnt something new today. About the brain. Apparently the brain is not developed enough in a baby to handle processes and memories like an adult. Something I would have thought obvious if I ever spent any time before thinking of the brain functions of babies and small children. Which I didn't.

It has suddenly become quite clear however. Because suddenly out of nowhere, I could remember. My life. My death. The last couple years buried in the subconscious, the brain not able to fully handle my memories and thought processes. And I was sitting in the goddamn Burrow, staring at my mother. Molly Weasley and I was fucking Percy Weasley. It was all a little disorienting to be honest.

"Fuck!" I said with absolute feeling. This is not the life I want. The world I want to be in, not with what is coming. What is my luck even?

The absolute glee on the twin hellions sitting across from me at the dinner table clues me in on the fact I said that out loud. Taking in their age I must be around 8, that's about as far as my thoughts go before my ear is snatched hard, and I'm yanked off my seat. My mother yelling at me.

"Percival Ignatius Weasley! Where have you learned to use language like that!" She snapped at me, twisting my ear slightly.

"Sorry mother, It slipped out, it won't happen again." I say, chagrined. My cheeks are burning as both Bill and Charlie are hiding grins, and the twins are outright cackling at me. From the memories of my life so far, this is definitely an outlier in my behavior. At least Ron and Ginny are too young to tease me.

Molly harrumps, but lets me ear go, with a quick, "It better not." She warns, going back to putting the finishing touches on dinner. I was the well behaved child, so I was apparently given some slack. No way the others would be let off with a single comment. The looks on their faces confirm to me that they're all a little shocked and upset there wasn't more of a show.

It was a real effort to keep my face placid and go through the usual family ritual of the Weasley home. Loud and rambunctious was not really suited to my tastes, nor the original Percy's I suspect. It's not really a wonder he was so quick to walk away. I've only gone through one dinner and I suffered through two pranks from the twins, and some backhanded comments from Charlie on my pedantic and studious ways. Bill didn't dump further on me, but he didn't stop the others either. And while Molly chastised the twins, it really did nothing to stop them, and Arthur's not so hidden chuckles burned as well.

This wasn't even my family, even if I remembered eight years living with them, my previous adult life took precedence, my memories and experiences coming to the fore and enhancing what had already been a personality not too dissimilar from original Percy. An organized ambitious boy. Or man as I was. And I couldn't quite understand how the family dynamic was allowed to be like this without correction. Percy must have been miserable half the time, Hogwarts probably the reason he even made it to an adult before jettisoning his family.

The lack of respect smarted. I knew as an eight year old, I would not generally see respect. But from my own family to see such casual disregard for my feelings… And I knew this was a regular occurrence. It was not quite heartbreaking, as I knew them as fictional characters for more years then I knew them as my only family. Annoying, frustrating, those were perhaps better words.

I politely excused myself from the table, and thanked whatever deity punished me with this life, that at least my studious nature had ensured Bill and Charlie shared a room, and left me one to myself. Strange to feel happy that no one in the family wants to share perhaps. Yet, I was mentally an adult. And the idea of sharing a space with people that constantly prod me for a reaction is not my idea of fun.

I didn't sleep much that night. Thinking about the future. Not so much on the Voldemort and Harry issue. That would sort itself no matter what I did. So I'd best stay away from that mess as much as I could being a Weasley.

No, I was thinking of mine. I have no interest in becoming a ministry bureaucrat. Why would I, when there was magic! Frankly, I'd rather spend my time researching and learning then working a menial 9 to 5. Even a Hogwarts professor job with access to the library 24/7 would be acceptable. Above all, the Weasleys were not my kind of people. I was not a people person, I was withdrawn, sarcastic with dark humor, had a penchant for puzzles and mysteries and a thirst for books that limited personal interaction for most of my life.

I could be polite, which I suppose wouldn't be much of a change from the Percy they knew. That would keep my home life somewhat settled, while I worked to make a better life for myself. I had previously been poor, poorer than the Weasley's who after all had magic to compensate for much. I had worked hard, studied harder, to pull myself out of that poverty. I was not going to spend another life like that. Not when there was magic. I'd find a way.

I finally laid down in bed, sudden jarring tiredness taking control. My last thoughts of the night probably would have been ruminating on how well I could argue against the sorting hat in a few years. Talk him down into Ravenclaw, instead of the Slytherin I feared I'd be.

Now that would really make home life interesting. That would have been my last thoughts…

Except then I sat up as I realized something, scratch that sleep thing. First thing is give Scabbers to Ron. ASAP.

For whatever reason he isn't in my room at the moment. Whenever he appears, I'll be the nice older brother bestowing my 'pet' on Ron. Sorry bud, better you than me I think, not even wanting to contemplate spending the next few years with an adult wizard in my room.

I'm not selfless enough to try and save Sirius either. I'm eight. And can't do magic. Trying to catch Pettigrew right now will probably just lead to him finding Voldemort earlier.

So Ron gets a new sleeping buddy.

This new life is starting out great already.

---

One of the advantages of the large family I lived with, was the ability to disappear. With Arthur at work, Bill and Charlie creating a ruckus, the twins and their antics, and the two young ones in Ron and Ginny. My mother and indeed the rest of the family wouldn't even notice that I spent a majority of my time in my room.

There wasn't a family library to peruse, so I concentrated on different avenues for now. To start with, meditation, to recognize my magic and interact with it, even though I did not try to utilize it quite yet.

There was a reason Hogwarts started at 11. Our magical cores settling down enough to be properly utilized. It could be dangerous before then. I imagine I'd begin practicing trying to use wandless levioso or something similar by 10. It should be safe enough. But I left it alone for now other then recognizing my magic and getting used to it, getting a feel for it. Meditation was also good for trying to build up Occlumency. I had a rudimentary idea of how to go about it. And I did feel much more focused and my memory felt much sharper after a few weeks of emptying my mind, sorting through my memories of the day, and trying to imagine slotting them all away in a library.

Time would tell if it would work, if Occlumency would progress this way. If perhaps a mind palace was possible like so much fanon construed. I did not, nor would I have, an Occlumency text anytime soon. So it would have to do. I certainly couldn't ask my parents. Occlumency was classed as mind magic. I could only imagine the fit Molly Weasley would have if she knew her eight year old son was practicing it.

Summer eventually ended, me keeping a polite distance to my family, them not even noticing. With Bill and Charlie heading off to Hogwarts to my hidden relief. Then it was time for me and the twins to head off to the four hour long lessons every weekday morning, held by an elderly witch for all the magical children around the Ottery St Catchpole area. These lessons explained how purebloods arrived at Hogwarts with literacy and math skills. They were pretty basic. And I was literally bored out of my mind. It didn't help that one witch was teaching kids as disparate as four to ten.

Apparently my boredom showed. I was pulled to the side only three days in by the elderly witch, Mrs Grafton. Probably would have happened sooner if the younger kids weren't such brats, needing extra attention.

"Percival, dear. I've noticed you aren't really participating. How far ahead of the rest of the class have you gotten?" Mrs Grafton asked shrewdly, peering down at me from under her plumaged witches hat, beady dark eyes assessing me.

I shrug, "I'm probably ready for Hogwarts when it comes to the basics." Figuring that was a bit too self assured, I blinked innocently, "I mean I think so, Mrs. Grafton." At least blushing on cue was ridiculously easy as a Weasley.

Considering what literacy, math, history and geography was considered basic to the wizarding world. I was probably decades ahead of my peers. I couldn't exactly say that, or explain how I suddenly knew all those subjects however.

"Well, why don't I give you some parchment work, if you solve it all, I think we can find something better for you to do with your time." She said consideringly.

I was soon sitting at a desk, basic math and logic questions in front of me, simple reading comprehension questions, a small essay on a simple subject, all things any normal child would be able to do as a matter of course. Yet for purebloods this was apparently of Hogwarts age equivalent. No wonder the professors there always complained about the quality of homework.

Mrs Grafton immediately looked it over as soon as I finished. "I'll have to talk to Molly, it would be a waste to keep you in this class " She muttered after a few minutes.

When class ended only ten minutes later, I received some queer looks from the twins as Mrs Grafton followed us home. They were soon snickering to themselves, whispering heads together. No doubt imagining I had gotten into some sort of trouble. I couldn't imagine why they would think that, since I was not them in any manner. Then again the twins like the rest of the family, always only saw what they wanted to see. They were remarkably stubborn that way.

"Amelia? Is everything alright?" Mother said sharply as she walked out from the kitchen door, apron spotted with flour, eyes sharply on us children. Well… Two of them. "What did they do?" She snapped, eyes fixated on the twins.

Mrs Grafton cleared her throat, "Actually, I'm here about Percival."

Mother seems lost for words. "Well," She blusters for a moment. "I can't imagine Percy did something to disrupt class!?" She gives me a once over like she's looking for any strange mutations or extra arms.

"No, not at all. Percival has always been a joy to teach. It just seems he's finished the basic pre-Hogwarts program." Mrs Grafton assures mother with pursed lips. Mrs Grafton had never much approved of my mother's parenting. But then again she taught Bill and Charlie. And now the twins. I was pretty sure I was the outlier as the quiet and polite one.

Mother splutters a bit. "Already? But he still has two years to go!" She wrings her hands, no doubt worried about what they can figure out for me, what with the no money situation. To be honest so am I. The classes were boring, but at least it was more than sitting in my room meditating.

"Well, I thought I had a nifty solution to that. My granddaughter runs the library in Catchpole. She could use a smart young man to assist her, and in return for a few hours of paid help, he could study whatever he'd like with the assistance of my granddaughter." Mrs Grafton explains smartly, nodding along as she speaks, seeming to like her own idea the more she speaks it. She stares mother down expectantly.

Mother hesitates, looking at me reluctantly, still wringing her hands, "Oh, but it's so far… " She begins to shoot it down.

"Nonsense, it's a quick floo trip, and even if the floor system goes down he's literally a hop and a skip away." Mrs Grafton waves away the protest.

"Percy, is so young!" Mother cries out, stepping over and grabbing me, shoving me against her, like I'm leaving suddenly. I take the hug and fervently hope she isn't going to win this argument.

"Nonsense, Percival is a smart young man, it would do him good to earn some extra money, and he'd be able to keep studying and preparing for Hogwarts with my granddaughter watching over him." Mrs Grafton isn't giving up, her beady eyes peering at my mother, intent and stern. "He can't be sitting in my class bored out of his mind, Molly." She chastises.

"I guess. If Percy feels he can handle it, I suppose it isn't too far." Mother says haltingly, grabbing my shoulders and looking down at me.

"I think it would help me prepare for Hogwarts." I say, smiling slightly. Knowing my mother is a sucker for seeing her more reserved child smile. And like that she melts.

"Oh, alright then. I'll go with you tomorrow just to make sure everything is alright." Mother says fondly. She turns to Mrs Grafton, "Would you like to come in for some tea, Amelia?" She asks kindly.

Mrs Grafton shakes her head, "I have an owl to send my granddaughter, and I have to get ready for tomorrow's lesson." Her beady eyes on the twins who have managed to disappear into the background by being quiet for once. "I have a feeling those two will be more trying now." She said dryly. Before turning around and walking away without another word.

Mother shakes her head with pursed lips, then forgets all about me as she goes to lecture the twins. To ensure they give the poor woman no trouble at her lessons. I roll my eyes and go to my room, why she even tries to stop them when she won't punish them enough to actually deter them I don't know.

At least my future wasn't as bleak for the near future. Surely I wouldn't be paid much, but pocket change was still something. And I'd be able to look through an actual library. Study actual magic. If only history books and theory. But still. Magic!

---

Fiona Fawcett was the definition of an extrovert, she was bubbly, friendly and instantly

gained mother's approval upon dropping me off for my first day. They were chatting like old friends five minutes in, despite the fact Fiona couldn't be more then twenty. At least it made my mother feel safe in leaving me to my new job, and opened up hours of freedom to study.

Fiona had curly blonde hair, with an open and expressive face with big green eyes. Despite only being five feet barely, she had a presence about her that invited people in. I had no idea how she became a librarian of all things, she certainly seemed like a social butterfly. The library constantly had visitors who never seemed to pick up any books. A majority of the male persuasion. It made me feel like I was brought here to spend four hours stacking books so she'd have flirting time alone.

In the end I couldn't really care less. I rarely had enough books to put away to work for four hours. And either way Fiona paid me five galleons a week ( a ridiculous amount). Well it was a ministry run local library, so technically they paid me. But Fiona was literally the only other employee and so was the one handing me the money. It gave me hours to read, Fiona sometimes helping me study when she had nothing else to do. Her chipper attitude was somewhat annoying to deal with, but the effect was mitigated by her being an absolute font of knowledge. She had been a Ravenclaw, and loved books - and she helped me navigate to exactly what I needed. Now if only I could survive the constant flirting. She even did it to me, and I'm eight years old. I don't know what she expects for a reaction. My deadpan silence apparently just makes her see me as a challenge.

I'd be forced to floo home around five pm or face my mother's wrath. But Fiona had no problems with me bringing as many books as I liked home, she knew I wouldn't damage them, not like a regular eight year old might. In fact she encouraged me quite a lot and found me books I didn't even know I might need. Giving me advice on what basics everyone pureblood should know starting out. The things the Weasleys wouldn't know anymore.

I had a definite plan you see. Hogwarts has the biggest library in the world. Yet I'd never get through it all. I wanted more time there. And the plan I cracked was as simple as it was mad. Subjects like History of Magic and Astronomy were purely theory. I would spend the next couple years studying anyway. I would concentrate on covering the entire curriculum of those two subjects. And muggle studies as well because why not, it would be easy. And then take the OWLs and NEWTs before Hogwarts.

It would set me apart slightly, so I wouldn't be seen as just another Weasley. And it would open up more free time, less classes to do, less assignments to do. More time in the library studying whatever I want. It would also have the added benefit of giving me a good reputation with the professors.

The only other change to my life I instituted was a small work out routine. I had been fairly fit in my previous life, and I knew that it could become an easier habit to keep when started young and fairly in shape. Nothing much. Just some running in the early mornings, some flexibility stretches and some pushups and sit ups. Nothing to a crazy amount. A fitter body might help with stamina later for possible magic duels. I wasn't sure. But it was worth keeping fit either way. It wasn't too much of a hardship or took too much of my time. Even if I'd probably never go to the lengths of my previous life, nor join a gym or any of that kind of thing.

And so with my studying, and working out, playing nice with the family. Almost three years passed by.

---

Eleven years old

Beginning of summer

"Are you nervous?" Fiona asked me teasingly, ruffling my hair slightly.

"No, not for the tests anyway." I mutter, giving her a long suffering look as she messes my hair up some more. The stress would come when my family finds out about it. There's a reason Fiona is the one taking me to the ministry. I really doubt my mother would allow me to sit the tests at all.

Fiona puffs her cheeks out in that chipmunk way she has a habit of doing. I roll my eyes, "What?"

"You are way too cool for your age, Perce. You're supposed to be nervous and stuttering." She complains, flicking me on the nose.

"I've already paid for the testing fees, I've studied the material, I know I have it all down. There is no reason to be stressed about the tests." I say calmly.

I had kept all the galleons I had earned, not even buying a single piece of candy, keeping it all hidden for these fees and to get my own wand and supplies for Hogwarts, instead of hand me downs.

A better son would have helped the family with his hidden stash. I simply wasn't that good of a person however. My family probably thought I got knuts or a sickle or two for my work. Underestimating how stupid ministry budgets can be sometimes. Fiona paying me five galleons a week due to the library being overfunded and needing to spend funds to not lose funds.

She even gave me a 20 galleon Christmas bonus every year. She had even offered to pay for the tests when she found out what I was aiming for. I turned that down however. There's only so much you can owe one person. And I already owed Fiona a lot.

"I wish I could have been this calm when I sat my OWLs." Fiona muses with a quirky smile.

"When are you ever calm?" I point out dryly. Even now standing in the hallway outside the testing hall, home schooled kids hanging around waiting to sit their tests, she was bouncing on her feet, moving her head like she alone was hearing a beat of music.

She was also drawing a lot of looks due to said bouncing, several homeschool kids were of the 15-17 age range, and Fiona was the definition of a blonde bombshell, albeit in a small package.

Fiona sticks her tongue out at me, "Careful little red, or I might not come pick you up to bring you back!" She chirps with a teasing laugh.

"You're enjoying this way too much to stay away." I say with a sigh, shaking my head.

She smirks, wide eyed, looking around the hallway. Catching the stares of all the hormonal boys. And some of the girls. "Whatever could you mean?" She giggles, fluttering her eyelashes.

I roll my eyes, leaning back against the wall. It had become incredibly obvious over the last few years that Fiona was an incorrigible flirt. Yet that is all she did. Tease and play and flirt with guys and girls. Enjoying flustering people. It made me kind of glad I would be at Hogwarts for my puberty. I'm sure she'd get me in the summer though. Something to look forward to, I think dryly. Watching students trying to work up the courage to approach my somewhat teacher/friend or whatever we were.

Before they can get up the nerve the door opens. An ancient looking witch peering out at the gathering. "Well come on then. I don't have all day." She calls out croakily.

Finally, I think, turning to enter my first exam, the OWL for History of Magic. A hand on my shoulder stops me and I'm twirled around. Seeing Fiona's gleeful face as she gives me a loud wet kiss on the cheek, "Good luck on the test!"

People glare at me as she happily skips away, a definite exaggerated sway to her hips, and I sigh, entering to take my seat. I do not look forward to puberty, it takes away the intelligence of already logic addled wizards. I'm eleven, she's obviously an adult. Why are they glaring at me like it's something there? Fucking wizards!

My OWL for History of Magic is followed by my OWL for Muggle studies and my OWL for Divination. Yes, I decided to take divination as well, as it turns out it's actually mostly based on theory I could study up on, and then even in NEWTS, It wasn't wand magic, but tarot cards, scrying in a bowl of water, cubomancy and such passive magics which I could easily practice under Fiona's supervision. She had taken the NEWT for the class. So I had decided why not, another easy class removed from the board.

By the time I finish all three I am exhausted. And I already have my Astronomy OWL to look forward to. Plus NEWTS in all four subjects. Fiona looks sympathetic as she picks me up, and slips me a pepper up potion at the library before I floo home, to not worry my parents.

At least the ministry has an actual room with a night sky for the purpose of Astronomy tests, I wouldn't want to imagine trying to sneak to the ministry in the middle of the night without my mother finding out.

The next two days go fine as I work through the tests, feeling very confident I've passed and almost 100 percent confident it was with straight O's. Fiona is there to cheer me on before I start, and to bring me back and keep me awake for when I'm done.

I'll have to remember to do something nice for her one day. I don't know how I would have done all this without her help with studying and her help ferrying me back and forth from the ministry, as well as being my alibi for where I've been. Or just for being my support during all those lonely days of studying. I would have probably gone a bit mad without her there to ruffle my hair, bring me hot chocolate and just talk at me for hours on end.

The day after I finish the exams I try everything I can to convince Fiona to let me do my shopping alone. But she outright refuses.

"If you're going to insist not involving your mother, which by the way is really really dumb and will backfire on you!" She starts cheerfully, her cheeks all puffed out like usual. "Then I'll insist that a responsible adult comes with you!"

"Have you found one yet?" I ask, rubbing my forehead, it's not the worst to have a chaperone for my shopping. It's not like I was planning on anything illegal…Mostly because I wouldn't be able to afford it.

"Rude!" She puffs out, but she's grinning, "I'll have you know that I'm crazy responsible." She lies straight to my face.

She is after all the adult that befriended an eight year old, and snuck him into the magical government at eleven to take tests meant for 15 and 17 year olds behind his parents back.

I give her an unimpressed half lidded stare. I actually know her after all.

"Do you want to shop or not?" She twirls her wand in her hand, eyes twinkling.

"...Sure." I say warily. She was up to something.

"Then let's goooo!" She shouts excitedly. Raising her arm up in the air. She jumps in place for a moment, giving me a dirty look. "Percy! Show some excitement!" She yells at me.

We're in a library, woman! I think, but give a half hearted, "Yay!" Anyway, to avoid being hexed.

She gives me a dirty look, still standing in pose. "Do better then that, or I'll tell on you to your mother!" She threatens, chipmunk cheeks back again as she puffs out.

Sighing I stand in the same pose, arm raised into the air, grumbling out, "Yay, Diagon alley here we come…"

She sniffs, "Acceptable… I guess."

"You are impossible." I say, but unbidden my lips twitch upwards a bit.

She grins widely at me, eyes sparkling, "Aww, the baby grumpy knows how to smile, now my day is complete!" She teases me gently.

"Please can we just go." I say the tips of my ears red.

"Mmkay, don't like puke on me." She warns all of a sudden, before grabbing my arm and suddenly I feel like I'm being stretched impossibly thin, being squeezed through a straw, and suddenly spurted out on the other side. It was not pleasant.

"There's got to be better ways to travel then that!" I heave, falling on my knees. The feeling of side-along apparition absolutely sucked.

Fiona tosses her hair dramatically, "Not the worst ride I've had." She grins down at me, feet already bouncing on the pavement.

"I'm eleven." I say dryly, once I finish heaving.

Her grin, if anything widens, "Yet you understood what I was saying," She tuts at me mock disapprovingly, "How many of your older brothers playwizard magazines have you stolen, hmm?"

"That's really a thing?" I ask, shooting her a disbelieving look. What witch would take her clothes off for money when she had magic.

She pouts, "I'm really disappointed in you, Perce. No naughty mags at all?"

"What conversation are we even having right now?" I get up on my feet, walking away from the apparition point. Just thankful no one else had arrived for that particular conversation.

Fiona comes up beside me, an innocent look on her face, "I'm just seeing to your education."

"Right." I say dryly.

She flutters her eyelashes, "Have you had… The talk yet?"

I side eye her, "I will scream stranger danger." I warn her.

"You're no fun anymore, where is the blushing beet I used to know?" She grumbles playfully, puffing her cheeks out.

"He met you."

She pinches my cheek, "You used to be cute!"

"Can we not?" I say long sufferingly.

"Alright, I'll play nice. It's a shopping day after all." She says with a quick giggle.

Honestly between us I have trouble with deciphering who's eleven and who's twenty four. I think exasperated as we continue down Diagon alley. Even though I've visited multiple times in my life, the sheer magicness of the shopping district still blew me away. The books and movies had not done it justice. You could find almost anything on these cobblestone streets. And it looked cheesy as it was to say it, magical.

"Wand first." I say, feeling myself grow excited. This is what I've always wanted. Coming to fruition. I'll be a wizard.

"The wizard focused on his wand, how surprising." Fiona giggles, but she's already leading me towards Ollivanders.

Part of me feels guilty for depriving my family of the experience. If not for the fact there was a good chance I wouldn't even get my own wand until third year or later. I'd rather suffer their disappointment and have my own wand. It's made obviously clear that nothing matches a wand that actually belongs to the wizard or witch.

Ollivander creeps out of the backroom the minute we enter the store, a little jingle announcing our arrival. A shiver of excitement runs through me. This is it. Where it becomes real.

"Miss Fawcett, not here to blow up my store again are you?" Ollivander can barely be heard as he stays in the shadows of the store. Drama queen I think amusedly.

"I'm almost positive I'm not blowing anything up!" Fiona says cheerfully. Only I can see her cross her fingers behind her back.

"Black walnut wood, 9 inches, springy and with the hair of a particularly playful unicorn. Excellent for charm work, has it served you well?" Ollivander works his creepy routine on Fiona.

"9 inches has always served me long and hard." Fiona answers with a smirk. I groan out loud, she gives me a quick wink.

"Ah, and we have a young mister Weasley in for his wand." Ollivander says slowly, creeping forward, his big almost bulbous eyes staring at me.

"Please don't give her more opportunities to talk about wand sizes." I ask quickly, and accurately it seems, when Fiona immediately pouts. It's not like I don't already know my parents' wands anyway.

"Hmm, let's see, I have a feeling about you, young man." Ollivander says mysteriously before disappearing amongst the shelves.

"Try this, Ebony, ten and a half inches, with a phoenix feather core." Ollivander hands me a wand, surprising me as I've not gone through the measurement or wand hand questions Harry Potter had. Were they not necessary then? I give it a swish only to immediately have it taken away by Ollivander.

"Hmm, not quite right, woods correct, length and core, hmm." He mutters absently and wanders off again.

"Ebony huh? Good for transfiguration and kind of combat oriented, not what I would have guessed for you." Fiona says, eyes roaming over me with a thoughtful look.

"And what did you imagine for me?" I say slightly irritated. Although my interest is peeked, good for transfiguration and combat eh, that does sound like my wheelhouse.

She just giggles at me, putting her wand behind her ear and bouncing on her feet, refusing to answer me as we wait for Ollivander.

He soon returns, looking satisfied. "I think I have a match, Mr Weasley. Ebony, nine inches, rigid, core of a particularly stubborn Hungarian Horntail. Come on, give it a swirl." Ollivander says with anticipation.

I grab the wand and immediately feel it, it's like a rush running from my core up my arm, jubilation over a connection. The wand shoots out a multicolored spurt of liquid. Turning everything it touches rainbow colored.

I immediately close my eyes, "Don't you dare ruin it. Don't say it." I demand, as Ollivander mutters a quick evanesco.

Muffled giggles can be heard in the shop as I sigh, knowing it's coming.

"I'm sorry, Percy, I can't!" She giggles. "I'm too shocked at the reaction your wand had to finally feeling your hands all over it!"

"Is that it?" I say dryly, still keeping my eyes closed, so I don't have to see her red chipmunk face as she giggles away.

"Wait, wait!? I have something for this?" She says snapping her fingers as she can't think of it.

"I'd like to pay now, please." I say quickly. Handing off the required galleons and stepping out of the store, a pouting Fiona behind me.

"I can't believe I missed so many zingers, I froze!" She moans, playfully ruffling my hair. "Great wand tho, Perce! Same length as mine too!"

"Yes, your favorite, I know." I answer dryly. I can't help but hold my wand and just feel it. I can't put it away right now. I can understand why the wand is usually bought last now. It feels like I've gotten an extra limb and I just can't let go of it.

"You can play with it when you get home." Fiona says with a soft smile on her face. Teasing apparently over for now. Probably fond memories of when she was in the same position. She snaps her fingers suddenly, "Damn, I forgot to blow up something in there!"

"I don't have too much else to buy." I admit. "Just a nice quality set of clothes." I didn't want to arrive looking completely out of the poor bin. I completely ignored her tendency for explosions. Not wanting to encourage her to finish the shopping with a bang so to speak. I really didn't want to end the day in Auror custody.

I planned to raid the room of requirement when I got to Hogwarts to hopefully find a good expanded trunk and a wand holster and other extras, to save my limited funds since I have no way to make more for the next few years. It's why I was not bothering to shop for much today, and what allowed me to pool my money together for some good quality robes.

"Nuh-uh, first we're getting you an owl. My treat." Fiona chirps, linking her arm with mine, made easy by the fact that already at eleven I had almost matched her height.

"You don't have to buy me anything, you've already done so much!' I protest, but it's half hearted at best. One, I know she'll buy one whether I agree or not. And two I can't say I am opposed to having an owl. It's part of the whole wizarding experience.

"It's what friends are for." She says firmly. Before giving me a silly little grin, "That and to make fun of you until you puke!"

"I'd hate to see what you'd do to your enemies." I say wryly, shaking my head, I could see Madam Malkin's up ahead. But Fiona led me past, heading for the magical menagerie.

"I date them." Fiona answers my question after a long pause, her face shuttering slightly, before she shakes her head and puts on a grin again. "So what kind of owl will you get?"

I eye her worriedly, having not seen her with a negative expression in the whole time I've known her. Yet I decide not to push, as I have my secrets, so does she. She's enabled me to come as far as I've had. Or I would have had to wait until Hogwarts. "Something that will survive the twins." I finally answered. And sadly that is the most required component.

"So likes biting fingers off, gotcha, Perce!" She chirps, miming taking big chomps out of things.

My lips twitch, "Maybe not quite that violent." But I was tempted. Oh, was I tempted.

She leads me into the store, my eyes on a swivel as I take in the animals, the noise is not too bad, which I attribute to silencing charms on the cages of the loudest animals, because every animal in the store seems determined to hop or fly or slither around. The normal chaos of any magical establishment.

"What about this one?" Fiona says, walking up to a great beast of an owl. It was almost as big as Ron for Merlin's sake!

"No. Just no." I say firmly, walking past it.

She's enchanted by the small tiny owls next, no doubt the same breed who'd eventually be Ron's apology owl. I'd rather have an owl able to carry a package. I stop by a Tawny owl with sharp bright eyes. "You're a clever one aren't you?" I ask quietly. The owl studying me.

"This one, I think." I say out loud. Fiona coming up behind me having abandoned the tiny scope owls.

"Trust you to be boring and choose the most common owl." She says with a sigh, shaking her head.

"I only need one for sending letters and packages, I hardly need a fighting owl." I point out, rolling my eyes at her pouty look.

"A ninja owl would have been cool." She mutters as she heads off to pay for my new owl. I decided to spend a little of my hard earned money on a perch and some owl pellets. It's not too expensive, I'll still have plenty for my clothes. I forgo a cage, my owl can fly to Hogwarts and back, I don't need to transport it in a cage.

It's only when I'm standing outside the store, my perch shrunken down by Fiona that I realize what I have done. I turn to her eyes wide, as I see my not yet named owl take to the sky, no doubt to already find the burrow, owl magic not something I had studied yet to understand how they so easily do that. "When that owl shows up they'll realize I've been hiding things." I groan.

Fiona chuckles, patting my cheek. "I think they would have noticed the wand anyway, Perce. Or the fact that an eleven year old sat several exams, no doubt your father already knows by now."

"I'm not ready for this!" I complain, but without heat. I knew this day was coming. I was mature enough to realize what would happen by going behind their backs. I still decided to do it.

"So let's continue shopping and postpone your…" Fiona took a deep breath and then let out a rumbling, "DOOM!" Looking very pleased with herself.

People were now staring at us, great. I ruefully shake my head. "You're impossible to take anywhere."

"Ooor, on the other hand it's impossibly boooring to go anywhere without me." Fiona said happily. Leading me again, and huh, Twillfigs and Tattings. I suppose that makes more sense then Madame Malkin's for a more quality outfit or two.

The next hour is a whirlwind of chatty women, as Fiona and the saleswitch talk about different fabrics and spells and colors. I sensibly just stand there and wait. Clothing styles are definitely one of the areas I could say I had no knowledge in. In the end I walked out 200 galleons poorer. But I had two school robes of actual pureblood quality, with self cleaning charms, mending charms and able to grow with me for several years. I can't even begin to describe the difference I felt wearing it. The robe was so soft and warm and of such quality.

"You look good in those, Perce." Fiona said quietly as we walked out of the shop. She knew I was apprehensive of how my parents would take it. Not only the exams. But the owl and the new robes and a wand.

"As much as I want to drag it out. It might be time you take me to the library, so I can floo home." I say heavily. She squeezes my arm supportively. Then I go through the horrible feeling of apparition again.

Fiona gives me a quick hug and a whisper of good luck, looking sad, eyes glistening. Then I step up to the floo, use the floo powder and call out loudly, "The Burrow."

When I arrive, I find both my mother and father sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me.

This will go well.

---

"Percy…" My father seems lost for words, staring at me with a pinched expression, looking weary.

My mother on the other hand is already red in the face, and by some miracle, holds back on screaming at me by father's hand on her wrist on the table.

"Father, mother." I say quietly, brushing the soot of my shoulders. "I'm home."

"Why?" Father asks me, "Why did you feel you couldn't tell us, Percy?" He looks pained. My mother twitches, but father pats her wrist and again she settles down.

I hesitate, before I slowly sit down across from them, "Because you would have said no." I lay it out as simple as it is. No excuses, no manipulation.

Father sighs, shaking his head, he looks overworked and tired, "Percy, you can't just decide you won't like an answer and then go around us for it. We're your parents." And we know what's best for you, is the unsaid but still heard undertone.

"I sat the tests at the ministry and I know I passed. So I was capable and you would have denied me that." I point out calmly, although with some bite to the tone. My back straight as I sit in the kitchen chair, refusing to back down.

"Yes. We would have." Father confirms, taking off his glasses with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes. Before looking at me with sad eyes. "We do know what's best for our children, Percy."

"Obviously not, if you would have denied me this, when I was obviously fully capable of achieving it." I reply, still managing to stay calm, although I can feel the redness creeping up my neck, it was frustrating me that their argument boiled down to we know best.

"Don't you dare talk to us like that!" Mother finally explodes, "It's that harlot Fawcett that's made you turn against your own parents! Running off to the ministry! With no idea what you're doing!" She spits out, incensed.

"Now, let's ca-" Father tries to de-escalate things, but I see red.

I plant my hands on the table, leaning forward, snarling at my mother, "Don't you dare blame Fiona for my choices! And name calling another adult because you don't like what I chose to do? That's mature! I knew what I was doing the entire time, and I succeeded!"

My father looks shocked, glasses askew as my mother and I both lean over the table red faced, eyes sparking with anger.

"When I found out from Arthur what you had done, I asked a few friends about your Fiona!" Mother yelled, "She was engaged to be married when she was found with four boys, she's nothing but a loose woman, a harlot and you won't be seeing her again!" She's breathing heavily, face fully red. My father is trying to pull her down in her seat again. Unsuccessfully.

How dare she!? How dare she slander Fiona! I think, enraged. I don't believe for a second the story she's concocted. Fiona might be a flirt, but the story did not match with her personality or behavior at all. So someone was spreading a nasty rumor and my mother jumped on the chance to discredit someone she was mad at. Fuck that.

"Fiona is nothing like that. And if you can't believe your own son on that. Then we're wasting time talking here because you've already lost my respect for attacking her." I spit out. Seeing my mother rear back in shock.

My father's eyes harden, "Speaking of respect, Percy. That is not how you talk to your mother." He chided. He turns to mother, his expression softening, "Molly, he's right, that was not correct of you either, to attack Miss Fawcett like that."

"You can't stop me from talking to my friend!" I say my voice hard, as I sink back into my chair. Already feeling drained.

"We've already sent an owl, letting Miss Fawcett know that as your parents we have ended your job at the library." Father says shortly. Seeing my furious look he shakes his head, "I don't agree with the rumors about Miss Fawcett, but she still went around our back with a child, our child. You should not have been taken to the ministry." Father's words are final. My mother snorted angrily next to him, but nodded her head sharply.

"She helped me, she was a good friend when I had no one else, she supported my goals, and you say that it is wrong?" My hands are shaking on the table, I always believed I would be in trouble eventually for this. Yet, somehow I had never expected they would lay the blame at Fiona's feet. I realized now why Fiona had been extra cheerful and up to antics lately. She had known what their reaction would be. She has basically been saying goodbye. My hands clenched into fists.

"Had no one else!? You have your family!" Mother snaps, being cut off from any further rant by my father grabbing her shoulder and giving her a hard look.

I start laughing, my shoulders shaking as I cover my face with a hand, my parents staring at me, one enraged, one with sadness.

"I have my family?" I laugh, I shake my head slowly, removing my hand, staring at them with wide angry eyes. "I'm terrorized by the twins, and nothing is done about it. Bill and Charlie either spend their time making fun of me, or refusing to help me when the twins are." I let out a sharp bark of a laugh, my lips twisting into a sneer, "Father you laugh along with them, and mother you might tell them off, but you never stop them, never really make them stop it, and if I spend my day in my room no one even notices I am alive, no one asks, where's Percy? Is he okay?"

Father looks pained again, his eyes are wet as he stares at me like he's never seen me before. Mother on the other hand is shaking her head angrily. Not taking in my words at all.

"You're exaggerating small childhood pranks to make excuses for your behavior, I won't have it! You are grounded to your room for the rest of summer! And no contact with that Fawcett lady! None!" She shrieks, my father slumps his shoulders next to her but this time doesn't counteract her.

I feel cold and so hot at the same time. Like my emotions can't decide whether I'm searingly angry, or just ice numb. I had expected punishment, I was fine with being grounded. But I hadn't expected these ridiculous accusations against Fiona. Or how my parents would just brush aside anything I had to say. "Fine. May I be excused." I bite out, I give them an unpleasant smile, "I'll start my isolation punishment now."

"No. We still have to talk about the ministry." Father says quietly. Not even looking at me. Mother huffs, but crosses her arms and stares at me angrily.

"What about it?" I ask coldly.

"You've done something no other student has. Gotten OWLs and NEWTs before Hogwarts." Father says slowly, "It has drawn attention. Even the minister himself stopped me to ask about it." Father smiled wearily, or tried to, it looked weak and tired more than anything. "The Daily Prophet will pick the story up, especially if your scores are good."

"They are." I interrupt to say, staring him down cooly. Bottling my rage. There was no point in trying to explain or discuss things with these people.

Father sighs, as mother seems saddened, her anger slowly bleeding out of her. I cock my head, what is the issue here?

"You'll be watched now, son. The ministry will be watching, the press will be watching. The pureblood families will be watching to see if one of the sacred twenty eight is coming back into the fold." My father says flatly. He eyes my new clothes with regret in his eyes. "And they'll see what they want to see."

"It was my choice." I grind out between gritted teeth.

"Oh, Percy." Mother has her head in her hands, "You're too young to realize." She sobs.

"How can we protect you from the world, when you put yourself as a target for everyone." Father says helplessly, pleading with me to understand. "You won't just be another Hogwarts student, this could put you in danger!"

"It was my choice, and I don't regret it, even if it puts me into danger." I refuse to back down. I knew all this already when I chose this path. It was part of why I chose to do it.

"You're a child, Percy." Father chides, shaking his head, "You don't realize the ramifications, the dangerous people that might find you interesting."

"I realize that if you had your way I would be locked away in this house, with no friends, and no escape." I say with a mirthless smile. "Being a child is an excuse for you to put me down, to limit me. I've shown I can handle it. Where's your belief in me?"

"Percy, this is too much for a child to handle." Mother says, wringing her hands, anger having bled away completely, her eyes teary as she looks at me. Father nods slowly, agreeing with her.

I stand up stiffly, "Then we are at an impasse, you believe me to be incapable, I do not. I won't stop excelling so I suppose you'll have to ground me indefinitely." I say coldly.

"Percy, that's not what we are saying. Don't twist our words." Father rebukes me with some heat.

I smile sardonically, "Of course, father. It's fine if I excel… As long as no one knows about it."

"Percy, what's happened to you?" Mother asks sadly, as father deflates at the table, looking lost.

"I'm just a different kind of person then Bill or Charlie." I chuckle, without any emotion to it. "I should have figured I wouldn't be accepted as I am. I never have been, not really." I eye my parents, both of them staring at me like they've never seen me before, both with tears in their eyes. "I have confirmed at least I did the right thing." I twist the knife, "If I had been honest, you would have held me back and forced me into being just good enough." I walk out of the kitchen. They don't stop me.

I fumed silently in my room, I had not seen my new owl, I wondered if they would keep it from me to prevent me from sending letters to Fiona. Either way I would contact her from Hogwarts. They couldn't stop me. Part of me knew I wasn't completely fair to them. They had fostered excellence in their children after all. Normal excellence, prefects, head boys, quidditch captain. Achievements for sure, but ones done by many students over and over again. Apparently me making the paper or attracting ministry interest was the same as joining the death eaters, that I did not agree with, nor see a point in even listening to them anymore once their opinion was made clear.

These are still the same people that treated original Percy with disdain for daring to be different. Who's first reaction to a promotion was to doubt his abilities, talk down to him and accuse him of being a traitor to the family. No one was that quick to jump on a family member if they had belief in them.

Same thing now, I had this coming, whether now or when I excel at Hogwarts beyond a normal eleven year old. They don't trust me because I'm not Weasley enough. If Charlie was in the paper they wouldn't bat an eye. Because they could trust that he would follow their worldview even if he became famous or involved with the pureblood families. No, this is only because it's me, the odd one. The one who's reserved, not as loud, as friendly and open. They see that I'm intelligent enough to pass OWLs and NEWTs, but still put me down as not able, not capable. Because I'm not like them, so they can't trust I'll be a good little Gryffindor.

Well they're right. I won't be.

I take my wand out of my pocket, rolling it in my hand. And they hadn't checked if I had bought a wand as well as new clothes. So this grounding, was more of a thankful relief away from the family.

"Wingardium Leviosa." I whisper, feeling the magic in me, flowing through the wand, feeling the difference the wand movements make. My eyes light up for a moment as my pillow raises into the air. I was doing magic.

I put my wand down, holding my hand out, I had been practicing for almost a year now and hadn't gotten it, but now, having felt the magic flow through my wand. I think I could.

I concentrate, pointing my hand at another pillow. My focus sharpens, my mind razor sharp as I shout the spell out in my head. And the pillow lifts up.

That night as I meditate and continue building on my Occlumency, I can't stop smiling. One wandless spell isn't much, but it's something. Next I would make sure to learn Accio. It would give me an advantage for years at Hogwarts. Because I never doubted for a second that I would go through seven years without being attacked.

Except for the no contact with Fiona part, I regret getting so mad at my parents. This punishment will give me extra study time and time to practice my wand magic. No twins, no older brothers condescending to me. No younger siblings following in their older ones footsteps to make fun of me. Peace. I needed to be grounded more often.

And I had a wand now, the twins better watch out…

---

It soon became clear that they had indeed kept my owl from me. I hadn't even been allowed to name it, the owl kept with Errol while I was kept in my room except for meal times.

I had trudged down on my sixth day of punishment for dinner, to find Bill tying a letter to my owl's leg, calling it Parrot of all things. I had stood there in silent disbelief as my family all acted like this was nothing out of the ordinary. Like of course what's mine is also Bill's. If they had asked to borrow my owl for a letter I wouldn't have minded. They had named it and were using it as a communal family owl without a word to me. No explanation. No question, nothing.

I walked back upstairs, icy cold rage spreading through me, I entered my room. Went into my stash of galleons that I had left. Picked them up and marched downstairs. In my absence, my father had arrived from work and was just sitting down asking for my whereabouts.

"I'm here, father." I say coldly. Stepping up to the table. I toss the galleons on the table before he can reply.

"What is this?" He asks, I can see the tip of his ears reddening, my siblings watching with gaping mouths.

"The money you will make sure to give to Fiona Fawcett." I snap at him, seeing my mother open her mouth, I glare at her so vividly she pauses, shocked.

"Percy, what's wrong?" My father asks, concerned. Seems someone in the room can see how absolutely furious I am.

"That money is to repay her for the gift she bought me, that has apparently been denied to me." I hiss out, incensed at the audacity. My only link to my friend, the only way I could possibly contact her currently. And my family denied it to me.

"Percy, it's still your owl." My father says slowly, like he can't understand.

I stare at him uncomprehendingly, "Mine?" I snap sharply, "I haven't seen it since I got home, six days ago! It's been named! Without any input from me, it's being used, without anyone asking me? And it's mine!?"

Father winces as Bill has gone pale, looking guilty, I ignore both, gesturing to the money. "Since I am not allowed contact, you will ensure Fiona gets her money back. I don't care what you do with the owl now. It certainly isn't mine." I sneer, my mother looks close to another meltdown and my siblings are all staring at me in shock, I swallow any other snide comments, with some difficulty, "I will eat in my room from now on. Good night." And I walk out of the kitchen.

That night, one by one, different family members tried knocking on my door to check on me. Bill coming by the most. I pretended to be asleep. I did not want to hear any more justifications for why my opinion or thoughts were not valued in this family. I was so angry I was glad I hid my wand in my room or I might have hexed my own family.

My one link to Fiona. The only person to treat me like my own person. And I wasn't allowed even that. Whether it was just carelessness over maliciousness didn't matter. It still showed that I was an afterthought. Why bother asking Percy. Just use it. It's just Percy. Who cares?

I was mentally an adult. I shouldn't be having such difficulty. Why did I care? They weren't really my family. Yet … it hurt. The casual disregard for what I felt or thought. No one at that table had for even a second thought that it mattered that they named my owl. That using it without ever asking me was an issue. Even after the blow out I had with my parents a few days ago where we drew our lines on what we felt about respect. I was still not offered even that bare amount. Not even the minimum of asking me if it was okay.

I can't wait to get to Hogwarts. Fuck them all. I'm staying there for all the holidays.

I'd rather the Hogwarts library then this cluster fuck of a family.

---

Finally it had arrived. Even having to come down and open it in front of the rest of the family didn't ruin the elation.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Weasley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I picked up the second page.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

by Newt Scamander

1001 Ways to Defend Yourself by Dorothea Fawcett.

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Mostly the same as I remembered it. The defense against the dark arts book was new. Obviously I wouldn't have Quirrell as my professor. I wonder, it's a Fawcett that authored the book, maybe my professor is a Fawcett?

"I suppose it's that time of the year again." Mother says wistfully. There's a tension still to her voice, but she attempts to keep it light.

"I probably don't even need to go." I say slowly, thinking it over. I'd rather not have another family argument in the middle of Diagon Alley.

"Of course you have to go!" Charlie says looking shocked, "It's Diagon Alley!"

Father peers at me over the morning paper. "Percy, you'll need supplies for Hogwarts." He says kindly. Only the slightest pinch at the eyes betrays any tenseness.

I shake my head, "Not really." When they look to argue I just give them a tired look, "All my books except defense are the same books as I'm going to get from Charlie when he was a firstie. I already have robes, my supplies like cauldrons and such are going to be handed down because Charlie got a new set last year, so we aren't buying those. Perhaps some fresh stock to some potion supplies at most."

"It's tradition, Percy." Bill says trying to sound kind, but to me it just comes out slightly condescending. "Everyone goes to Diagon Alley when they get their letter."

"We can pick up your potions supplies and DADA book for you, but you'll need a wand and for that you'll have to come with us." Mother says with finality in her voice.

Guess it's time to let the kneazle out of the bag on that one, "I already got my wand."

There's absolute silence in the kitchen, the only noise is the sound of father putting his paper down, staring at me with a complicated expression on his face. "Percy, surely you didn't?" He asks, sounding utterly defeated.

"I was there anyway, didn't see a point in waiting. That aside I had been told at the start of the summer I wasn't getting a new wand!" I explain, sneering as I came to the last point. "You can hardly blame me for buying my own if I wasn't going to get one, can you?"

My parents looked crestfallen, I might have just ruined an attempt from them to patch things up, buying me a wand. So they'd complain about me buying things, but wanted to bribe me into being back to 'normal', how typical.

"Please Percy!" Seven year old Ginny grabbed my hand and looked up at me with big soulful puppy dog eyes, and I folded.

"I suppose even if I don't particularly need anything, it would be nice to go as a family." I said reluctantly. Feeling my heart lighten a little as both Ginny and Ron light up. My parents losing some of the tension in their shoulders.

I had been a big brother in my previous life. And as much as it still annoyed and frustrated me when Ron and Ginny would jump on the make fun of Percy bandwagon. I also didn't blame them for going with what the rest of the family was doing. They could tell that although the twins would get punished, father and mother found their antics amusing. Why wouldn't they join in. I still had a soft spot for them both. And Ginny was definitely clever enough to see and use that to get me to fold when she wanted something.

"I'm going with Percy!" Ginny immediately declares, a stubborn look on her face as she latches onto me.

"If that is okay with your brother." Mother says with a soft expression, sending me a tentative glance.

"I'll watch over the little hellion." I say, ruffling her hair, chuckling at the pouty look she sends me. Her hands immediately going to fix the mess I made of it.

"That's settled then." Father says smartly, looking at his watch, "Weasley's be ready in an hour for a family trip to Diagon Alley." I blink in surprise, he must have taken the day off just to come with us today.

I try to go to my room, but I have a Ginny sized growth attached to me. I look down at her, "What do you want, squirt?"

She bites her lip, "Can I spend time with you until we go? I haven't seen you in forever!" She whines slightly. I don't know who taught her to make her eyes go wide and big like that but I immediately allowed her to come with me to my room. I felt slightly guilty, I had been so angry at my parents and some of the nonsense my siblings got up to, that I had neglected my younger siblings.

As soon as we're in my room she jumps up on my bed excited shining eyes turning my way, "Can you do any magic yet?" She blurts out excitedly.

"You just want me for my magic, huh?" I say playfully, picking my wand up from the desk drawer it was hidden in.

"I'd love you even if you didn't have magic." She says, suddenly serious. Her tiny face looking at me with a stubborn fierce look.

I clear my throat, my ears reddening. "Ah, well, I'll always love you too, Ginny." I say with a small honest smile.

At least this I still have.

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

Snippet two of 'Fun Amy'

Currently this is all I have of this particular one, have too many stories to focus on as it is

If Patreon votes for it, sure I'll do another chappie, but they'll probably focus on my established stories.

As usual this is Worm, watch out for language, Nazis, the usual shit.

Also I don't own any of this, Wilbow does, do not sue me, it worn end well for I have no dineros.

---

"Ohhhh, fuck!" Amy moaned out, sweat dripping off her as she rolled over, practically panting, her body sore and aching.

Sophia snorted, easily doing one armed push ups next to where Amy had flopped over on the floor, the bitch hardly even sweating from the effort.

"You're a literal demon!" Amy complained, her arms non-functional, push ups were definitely not something she had any experience with. Fuck you original Amy for never working out properly and pushing it down the line to new improved Amy!

Finding a good way to affect her own self was priority number one when she got out of here!

"You're just fucking weak." Sophia said bluntly, side eyeing her from where she was still continuing her push ups, "Figured the sister of wrecking ball girl would be more fit then this…" She added disparagingly, shaking her head slightly, only the barest sheen of sweat beginning to be seen on her brow.

Amy, through great personal effort, raised her weak and shaky noodle arm, and gave her roommate the finger. Content to lay flat on the ground until her body stopped complaining at her.

Sophia scoffed, switching arms in one slick movement as she continued, "At least you're trying now, seen sense, trying to turn into a real predator…" She pushed herself to her feet suddenly in one swift movement, that Amy wasn't jealous of at all, coming to stand over Amy, smirking down at her, poking her with a bare toe, "Even if it will take awhile… Pudgy."

"I will literally kill you once I catch my breath!" Amy wheezed out, her chest rising rapidly still, her body almost completely unaccustomed to this level of exertion. She worked the hospital route, and while exhausting, and bringing in a lot of steps in a day - it wasn't anywhere near a rigorous exercise routine.

"You're too thirsty too kill me, I can fucking see where you're looking you pervert." Sophia said, rolling her eyes, "If you're wanting to go after the bastards out there like you keep saying, you need to be fit, or funky powers or not, you'll be murder blended by Hookwolf within a week."

Amy thought that was entirely unfair, if Sophia was going to work out in just tiny boy shorts and a sports bra, how exactly could Amy do anything but look? "I know, I know." She grouched, feeling her breath coming back, slowly moving herself up into a seated position, craning her neck to stare up at Sophia, a frown on her face, "And I could probably whip up some flesh eating bacteria, except you know, for metal." She muttered, mind whirling with ideas, that would work for putting Hookwolf down, and would ensure Kaiser was useless as well. Now what would she use to create that? And how would she deploy it where she wouldn't do too much damage? And ho- OW!

She rubbed her head gingerly, glaring up at Sophia, "What the fuck Stalker!?" She complained.

Sophia looked completely unrepentant for someone that had just smacked her one across the head. "You were going into your weird head again, I don't want a super plague while I'm in the same room, thanks." She muttered, crossing her arms under her bust, her visage unimpressed.

"Only a tiny plague." Amy pouted, still rubbing her head, Sophia hadn't pulled that whack by much, hardy bitch…

Sophia shook her head, her hair, put in a simple ponytail, swishing behind her, as she raised a clenched fist, a raised eyebrow on her face as she stared pointedly down at Amy. "You already did that fucking lavender shit," She wrinkled her nose with distaste, "Save any other experiments for when I'm not locked in with you!"

Amy glared up at her stubbornly, "That lavender shit was a great idea! You're just jealous you still stink, while I smell fresh as a daisy!"

Working out was smelly work, and Amy hated being all grungy, so she'd fixed it. Original Amy had already set the bacteria on her skin to deal with sweat and other byproducts to begin with - a consequence of working in a hospital in a damn burqa, her uniform got very humid and hot at times, so Amy ensured there weren't any nasty odors.

Amy had just taken it to its next logical conclusion while bored, waiting for Piggot to try and execute her or whatever crazy thing she'd do at some point, tweaking the process so that not only were there no unpleasant body odors no matter what she did, but she also smelled nice and fresh with a hint of lavender.

Partly because she liked lavender. And partly because she'd asked Shadow Stalker first what kind of scent she hated the most. The glare she'd received when the scent of lavender filled their cell during the next workout session had filled Amy with enough happiness that she hadn't even been too annoyed with the whole workout thing that day.

"I'd rather stink to high heaven then smell like lavender, like a pussy!" Sophia shot back at her caustically, stepping away, her bare feet practically noiseless as she walked towards the bathroom for her after workout shower.

Sadly, she still refused to share. Even Amy's argument of water conservation to save the planet had fallen on deaf ears.

Amy snorted, amused, firing a parting shot to the athletic girl, "You're definitely straight like you say, if you think that's what it smells like…"

"Get new material, your simping got boring on day two, Dallon." Sophia said bitingly, tossing a victorious smirk over her shoulder as she entered the bathroom - having gotten the last word in.

"Bitch." Amy muttered, stretching out her legs, groaning, she was so achy. They'd been here for four days now, and working out was the only thing to really do, except her and Sophia sniping/bitching at each other in a friendly way. They got along scarily well, Sophia had even stopped threatening to choke her after the first day!

Well, friendly in a way that worked for them and as things worked out with their personalities - Miss Militia and Battery had both been by at times and tried to separate what they thought was fights, only to get bitched out from both of them for ruining their fun.

Normal people just didn't understand.

She wondered what was taking so long. By now Piggot should have either been slammed down, or pushed ahead against all advice. Why was it that they were still in M/S screening? No one would really believe she'd mastered Shadow Stalker after all, nor would any tests show herself as anyone but Amy Dallon, even Gallant had obviously thought her emotions were alright, albeit her anger and disgust were directed to them, and not herself like the original.

If they didn't do something by tomorrow… She'd have to get creative.

Maybe start dropping names. Like Cauldron, like Contessa, like Doctor Mother… Yeah I'll reveal shit, step in already Contessa! She thought into the aether.

She heard the shower turn on, and debated briefly on whether to surprise Sophia or not, switching her mind away from the ridiculousness of trying to understand the PRT.

One peek wouldn't hurt, right?

….

Right. Shadow Stalker… Best not invite a punch to the face, not yet.

"The shower head has a massage function!" She shouted out instead, grinning wildly, wondering which unlucky sod was stuck watching the cell today. She hoped it was Miss Militia, she seemed kind of stuck up.

….

"Shut the fuck up Dallon!" Sophia yelled back, making Amy's grin turn positively filthy.

The bitch was totally gonna use it now.

Prime teasing material for later.

---

Same time, the Rig, Director Piggot's office.

"No Emily, let her go." Chief Director Costa-Brown repeated sternly.

Emily Piggot clenched her fists so hard her nails were beginning to pierce her palms, hiding her hands under her desk as she kept her voice cool, speaking to the other PRT Directors over video conference call. "You can't be serious ma'am! She's at least on Bonesaw's level, from what WEDGDG had to say after viewing her recordings… She admitted to altering the bacteria on her skin to an autonomous self replicating degree, which she did seemingly effortlessly, while in M/S containment with no access to anything to utilize other than skin mites! How hard would it be for her to create a plague!?" Emily scoffed harshly, a sour look on her face, "According to the girl herself, not very hard!"

Emily had always been suspicious of Panacea, something about the girl had struck her as insincere from the beginning. Even if she didn't distrust capes as she did, she would have never trusted the girl. There was a reason she hadn't been healed, despite having the world's best healer in town.

She'd rather the pain, inconvenience and early death than put her fate in the hands of a cape, especially one so obviously untrustworthy as Panacea.

And she was now vindicated. Because the little brat was another Nilbog waiting to happen! Why couldn't these people see that!? A teenager with powers of that calamitous strength was scarier than an Endbringer. At least those were somewhat predictable! Teenagers were notoriously fickle and emotional, teenage capes were even worse! One bad breakup and they'd have goblins chewing up the populace, quarantining Brockton Bay just as Ellisburg.

"This is Panacea!" Costa-Brown stressed, a pinched expression on her face, "We'd have riots if we birdcaged her on a possible threat level, she's healed too many people, too many important capes…" Costa-Brown glanced off screen at something, rolling her shoulders tiredly, "Not to mention the girl is sixteen, there's no way we can make this look good, Emily."

Emily growled, leaning into the video screen, eyes flashing with irritation, "So she's helped out at Endbringer fights, so do villains, and we're not rushing to give them excuses for every hero they've saved." How can she think of PR right now!? She bit her tongue to stop herself from bringing it up, knowing it was a losing argument.

For better or worse - definitely worse - PR was king in the PRT.

Director Armstrong, the PRT director from Boston, shook his head, "That is not the same thing, Emily, and you know it." He frowned as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "There is however the fact that she represents a valid threat, Emily isn't entirely wrong, although taking it as far as the Birdcage or a kill order is premature."

Before Emily could furiously seize the momentum to continue to push forward, Director Tagg gruffly interjected on her behalf, "So get a pre-signed kill order in place, have it ready for when she inevitably fucks up, then get rid of her."

It gave her conflicted feelings to have James Tagg on her side, but she'd take what she could get right now.

Armstrong shook his head again, more firmly this time, "This is too premature." He stressed, steepling his fingers in front of him, "The girl hasn't actually done anything yet, all you'll do is push her away, because it will leak, let's not kid ourselves on that, Panacea getting a kill order. Will. Leak!"

"She's already killed one man!" Emily rebutted coldly, glaring at Armstrong's calm visage through the screen, "The man she turned black has disappeared." Her lips twisted sardonically, "Surely no one here believes Kaiser let him go?"

Kaiser could not let a man like that walk around as a visible mark of shame for the Empire. She was only surprised it had taken him this long to do it. If she was a betting woman she would have bet on Hookwolf taking care of the issue on day one.

Director Wilkins, the New York PRT Director spoke up for the first time, her voice cool and collected, "I believe Tagg has the correct idea." She said, inclining her head to said Director gently, "I'm sorry Emily, but the Birdcage or an executed kill order is out of the question, a pre-signed order to let her know not to step out of line is not unreasonable, however." She raised an eyebrow addressing Armstrong, "Is that not how you've dealt with Blasto in Boston?"

It wasn't quite as far as Emily wanted it to go, but better than nothing, she frowned briefly at the idea Tagg had enacted a compromise. The world really was going to hell.

Armstrong smiled wryly, shaking his head, "The situation is different, the two can't be compared equally." He insisted sincerely,"I don't believe Panacea is quite bad enough to be compared to Blasto."

"No. She's potentially worse." Emily jumped in, glaring at the Boston Director. Don't look at her age damnit! Look at what she can do! Capes never don't use their power!

"This discussion is going in circles. There will not be a kill order, pre-signed or otherwise. She will not be birdcaged, let her go, Emily!" Director Costa-Brown ordered with a firm voice, quashing all dissent.

"She'll sue…" Emily complained bitterly, the feeling of ash in her mouth. Her body thrummed with phantom pain as she briefly re-lived the last moments of Ellisburg, flashes of that disaster only making her more bitter as she faced having to ignore a repeat.

"Frankly, with how many rules you've stomped all over with this case Emily. Be glad if all she does is sue. One word to the media, and we're all wading through a pile of shit." Costa-Brown said seriously, "Let her go, now. That's a direct order."

Before Emily could answer, the screen flickered off, the Chief Director leaving the conversation. The other Directors quickly followed, leaving only Tagg behind, the others unwilling to meet Emily's eyes as they fled responsibility.

Nothing new there, she thought uncharitably, she'd asked for reinforcements to deal with Lung or the Empire for years without an iota of resources moving her way. So why would the PRT wake up and smell the impending apocalypse this time.

She had to try, but she couldn't say she'd expected anything but disappointment.

"You've got no choice but to let her go, but you can still put contingencies in place." Tagg stated bluntly, his gaze intense, the other Director the only one to truly at least entertain the idea of action.

"Striking first is the only way to deal with capes like this." Emily said harshly, looking away from Tagg, her cheek twitching as she held back the anger that was waiting to erupt.

"I have a few ideas, if you're willing to listen."

"....Tell me."

---

Alexandria in her guise as Chief Director Costa-Brown twitched irritably as she turned the monitor off, looking off to the side, "You want to tell me why exactly we're ignoring this? Emily isn't wrong… Especially with the girl's personality change, I don't care if she's claiming she's just burnt out and acting out, she's a danger."

Contessa, standing by the window and looking as unruffled as usual, just smiled mysteriously, "I have my reasons."

Alexandria grunted, looking remarkably unimpressed, "Yes, I know. Share them."

"I don't think I will." Contessa said cheerfully, "Door, San Diego Zoo break room."

Alexandria sighed as Contessa disappeared through the portal, returning to her paperwork, part of her mind still thinking on the mystery of Panacea's sudden change - and apparent sudden importance to the path.

"Emily won't last long, she won't give this up." She muttered quietly to herself, annoyed at the amount of extra work a visit from Contessa always managed to bring.

She'd be keeping an extra close eye on Brockton Bay, Cauldron's experiment ongoing in the town or not, she would not allow another Nilbog.

On that she and Emily agreed fully.

---

Amy felt quite pleased with herself as she sat in the back of a PRT van, being driven home, idly tapping away on her returned phone, texting Vicky to let her know she's on her way home, and ignoring the sudden flurry of dozens of texts in return.

She knew her homecoming would likely be both a disaster, and short lived - but it would prove to be entertaining to her either way. All of this was, really. She sent a text to Shadow Stalker, her new bestest friend having begrudgingly offered her number before they split off, Amy going home, Sophia going to be reamed out by her superiors in private.

Good, she thought, remind her why she hates you, makes it easier for me to steal her away.

"If you get tired of being the PRT's basic bitch you can come be my sidekick." She texted, a smirk on her face as she imagined Sophia seeing it first thing when she got out of her disciplinary meeting.

She wondered if she could steal any of the other wards? She tilted her head and hummed in thought, keeping half an eye on the PRT troopers in the front of the van, in case they were actually Coil's and weren't actually driving her home - although she could make that work too in a pinch. No, it's not worth the effort to steal the wards. She decided, her mind flipping through what she knew of the wards.

Only Vista was interesting enough, but would probably need too much effort to convince naturally to be worth it. Of course by one touch she could probably brainwash the girl, but Amy didn't really want to do that, she had a bad taste in her mouth just at the thought. Not out of any ethical quandary - but because of how boring that was.

She could mind control everyone in the bay after some experimentation, she was sure. But what was the point? Where would the fun be in that? Where was the conflict? The adrenaline of facing an enemy, of losing, drawing, winning.

No, I'm going to have fun with it, I'll only master someone if that somehow makes everything more exciting. She decided inwardly, while logging into PHO on her Panacea account - sliding into the thread speculating on her disappearance into the Rig.

She needed to come up with a better name… Panacea was just… Panacea was a basic passive bitch who just did what she was told, went where she's supposed to, and had no fun at all, ever. It wasn't her.

She eyed the troopers again, pulling her hood down somewhat to hide her shark-like smile. Heh, posting this while technically still in PRT custody is delicious… She thought, typing up a statement. Giving it two critical once overs afterwards to make sure she had it down perfectly. You should have just snuffed me in the middle of the night, Piggot.

Post! She crowed to herself as her finger pressed the button, sending her statement into cyberspace - likely killing a career or two in doing so.

She read it in real time as it popped up on her thread on PHO, reactions immediately popping up.

Hello Brockton Bay,

I've just been released from the Rig and I'm on my way home, thank you for all of you supporting me and pressuring the PRT for an answer on my disappearance. I might have disappeared forever if not for you all pushing for an answer, so thank you!

I'm heartbroken and deeply saddened after spending the last four days being treated like a monster, like a villain meant for the birdcage, illegally incarcerated, interrogated and pushed to the brink by PRT and Protectorate 'heroes'.

I've been threatened with the birdcage, even faced the threat of a kill order, the Director of PRT ENE pushing hard to force me into the Ward program or risk life imprisonment or death! (Makes you wonder who else is a ward because the PRT threatened to ruin them otherwise?)

Armsmaster and Gallant were both present during interrogations to push me, Gallant manipulating my emotions to make me more docile, (did anyone know he isn't actually a tinker? But actually a low level master? The PRT have been hiding it by having Armsmaster supplying him with tinkered armor.)

I thought I was doing good, that I was helping the bay, helping the heroes with healing after Endbringer fights. Healing any and all comers, spending my time after school volunteering for free at hospitals in the area. I'm only sixteen so I couldn't do it full-time, but I thought I was helping…

Four days ago my power reacted strangely with a weird genome in a patient, a member of the Empire 88 who I reluctantly healed, as PRT itself demands of me regularly - even as a volunteer I was often unfairly pushed to focus on criminals over civilians...

The patient was not harmed, but due to his reaction to my power changing the color of the pigment of his skin, the PRT and Protectorate attacked me, illegally, striking me with con-foam grenades in the hospital lobby, with total disregard for my rights, and for the civilians nearby who could have been hurt.

They didn't even try to talk to me, Velocity of the Protectorate foaming me in a surprise attack without a word said, they could have just asked me, but they weren't interested in talking or in following the law.

Is it reasonable to suddenly throw a grenade at a sixteen year old, without warning and in a public area?

They dragged me to the Rig without any reading of my rights, without an explanation for their heavy handed actions, treating me with more disdain than the likes of Hookwolf during his last arrest. They locked me up, refused me access to my parents, to legal representation or in fact any outside contact at all.

I'm no expert on the law, but as a minor I can't believe any of that was legal.

I'll also reiterate that Hookwolf had more rights during his last stint of incarceration then I was afforded!

Nazis get lawyers apparently, but I don't?

If not for the new - yet to be introduced ward - Shadow Stalker, breaking the rules to join me in my cell, I would have likely done something stupid in my depressed state from being locked in with no contact other then PRT and Protectorate representatives, who only spoke with me to threaten me.

I apologize deeply to all residents of Brockton Bay, but with the situation as is, with the PRT threatening the birdcage at minimum, simply for what could happen, rather than anything I've done. I can not continue to offer healing at the various hospitals, or offer it to the heroes.

Not with them willing to break any law, without apparently any consequences, leaving me no avenue of protection if they decide to do it again.

I can't risk healing anymore.

Not as things stand right now.

Not when it risks my future or even my life to do so. The PRT is too large of a specter hanging over me for me to be able to continue.

I am a biokinetic, I never went into specifics on my power before due to fearing exactly this from the PRT, and even if I've never done anything like the more infamous people with such skills, the PRT didn't care, they label me a monster either way, despite me never having used my power poorly.

All I ever wanted to do was heal, it's all I've ever been doing.

I'm heartbroken to have to make this decision, but I feel I've been left with no other choice.

Bereft the chance to heal directly I'll try and see if I can't create cures for cancer and similar diseases - if the PRT won't put a kill order on me for curing cancer. Hopefully in creating such cures I can make up for not being able to heal people directly.

My deepest apologies,

Panacea.

Amy leaned back in her seat, letting her phone drop into her lap, quietly laughing to herself. The reactions spilling in were delicious, the majority already screeching hatred towards the PRT for making Panacea stop healing.

She'd had no intention of going back to the hospital anyway, but Piggots open threats against her worked excellently to give her an excuse. Giving Armsmaster and Gallant a black eye at the same time was just gravy.

She foresaw a lot of fights between Dean and Vicky in the future.

She might even bust open the cracks in the Wards with this, depending on how much they were willing to believe in the party line from Piggot. Someone whom they already disliked fairly heavily - versus her, who had healed them several times and never been a threat.

If the Wards read her statement, she doubted they'd be pleased with how things had gone down, they're more stupidly idealistic then the Protectorate.

Her status as a biokinetic would be out now, but her outing the fact said a lot more than if she'd been outed by the PRT. Some would panic as sheep always did, but the majority would only see her good deeds so far and rage at the PRT for their massive overreaction.

It was hard to twist a potential cure for cancer as evil after all. And it neatly laid out that she was still helping people, just on a global scale instead. Comparisons to Bonesaw or Nilbog wouldn't fly right now, she'd never done anything to let the public believe that.

Yet.

The PRT pointing towards the Nazi as proof of concept of her 'evil' would backfire on them. Not surprisingly the majority of everyone, everywhere, did not have any great sympathy for Nazis. Half the people would believe it was an accident, their mind already set on the 'goodness' of Panacea. Especially those already healed and saved by her in the past.

Even the other half, those that believed she did it on purpose, would find a majority quietly telling her good job, seeing the karma in turning a Nazi black, and finding it a much more suitable punishment then 'harming' him.

Either way, it ensured she wouldn't have to waste her time in hospitals any time soon. She had no intention of wasting what little time she had before the world literally blew up on doing busy work.

She saw the van turn onto her street. Her phone practically blowing up as thousands of messages flew across PHO in response to her statement.

She smirked, staring out of the window at her home, wondering exactly how explosive this family get together would be, Show time! She thought with heady anticipation.

Let's see if she could add another post tonight, New Wave kicks Panacea out would be a great headline!

---

"Oof! Vicky let me breathe!"

She'd barely been able to step out of the van before Vicky came flying out the door, squeezing the life of her after intercepting her with a flying tackle.

She was sans uniform, in a simple blue jeans and tank top combo, her eyes wet as she continued to squeeze Amy tightly, "Not ever going to let you out of my sight again, Ames!" She blubbered, before burying Amy's face in her hair as she lifted her off her feet, hugging the stuffing out of her.

"I'm okay, Shadow Stalker kept me company, kept me safe." Amy murmured over her shoulder, her voice tight, as she could barely get a word in, her lungs restricted, pressed up against her sister as she was.

Good thing she wasn't hopelessly in love like the original, or this embrace would have put her brain on the fritz. She wasn't in love, even if she did in fact find Victoria insanely attractive. Huh, is that her aura, or just the fact she's pretty? She wondered, allowing her biological sense to expand from where she was touching Vicky.

Curious to see if the aura was messing with her mind.

Vicky's body and mind was laid bare for her power. The activity in her brain and Gemma suggested her aura was particularly ramped up strong right now, likely due to her emotional state. So that answers why my first thoughts were on loving her before, and her attractiveness. She thought pensively. She supposed it wasn't as bad as she thought though, just a suggestion, one she could ignore - not anywhere near mastering.

So original Amy was full of shit on being mastered into loving Vicky. Go figure.

Original Amy really had a bad habit of talking herself into delusions. Really, she'd done the girl a favor by taking over her body. Whether she was dead or somehow riding along subconsciously, it was a better fate than canon Amy, in her modest opinion.

"Then I owe her one." Vicky said firmly, bringing Amy back to reality, her biological sense dialed down as she focused on the here and now. "I would have broken in by myself, but mom threatened to knock me unconscious until you were back if I went anywhere near the Rig…"

"Gonna put me down?" Amy asked, poking Vicky's cheek a couple of times, the blonde pouting slightly. Too bad Carol had been a party pooper, she might have enjoyed watching Vicky wreck herself through the Rig.

It would have definitely changed things. Brought more chaos onto the playing field.

And made her sister a villain in the eyes of the law.

"No. Last time I put you down you disappeared for days!" Vicky said, a tinge of self recrimination in her tone. "If I had been at the hospital to pick you up early, you wouldn't have been kidnapped by the PRT!" There was definitely some bite to her voice that time.

Yessss. Come to the dark side Vicky. We have cookies, and orgies, Amy thought gleefully.

Amy rolled her eyes at her blubbering though, which thankfully her sister couldn't see as she held her still, "If you keep blaming yourself instead of the bastards at fault, I'll give you super acne." She threatened lightly.

Vicky giggled, not taking her threat seriously, she'd have to learn soon that Amy wasn't the passive waif who'd never do something like that to Vicky. But she did end up putting Amy down, her nose wrinkled cutely as she put both her hands on Amy's shoulders, her eyes searching Amy's. "Did you really turn that guy black?"

Amy could have lied, Vicky would have believed her, trusting in her own sister. But really, she didn't see the point. "He deserved it." She said simply, shrugging slightly, meeting Vicky's eyes without a hint of doubt.

Vicky grinned conspiratorially, mirth dancing in her clear blue eyes, "I thought so." She crowed, patting Amy's shoulders, "Way to go sis, I mean it's not punching bad guys out, but it's like poetic justice!"

"Don't encourage her, Victoria." Carol said harshly stepping out th door, gesturing inside with one arm, "Inside Amy." She bit out.

"What a warm welcome…" Amy said sarcastically, patting Vicky on the back as she hesitantly allowed her forward, glaring mullishly at her mother.

"Mom…" Vicky said sounding uncertain even as she continued to glare at Carol, "Aren't you happy Amy is home?"

Carol shook her head, "After everything she pulled, she's lucky she's not in the Birdcage right now. Now inside." She hissed.

Amy smiled bemusedly, laying a hand on Vicky's arm, preventing a blow out. "Of course, I have looked forward to meeting the family again."

They all entered, Carol refusing to show her back to Amy to her visible amusement.

The entire clan was in the living room, Amy waving at Crystal and Erik who both seemed cheered up seeing her free.

She didn't even get to say hi to the adults before Carol began, "What the hell is wrong with you? How could you be so stupid? We're going to be sued now I hope you realize? That's if not even worse now that everyone knows that you're a monster!"

"Mom!" Vicky yelled at the same time as Aunt Sarah stepped in with a sharp, "Carol!"

"Vicky, if you can't stay out of this, go for a fly." Carol ordered caustically.

"But mom!"

"Vicky, GO!" Carol snapped. Vicky looking helplessly at Aunt Sarah who shook her head, then at Amy who smiled at her and made a shooeing motion, telling her to go.

With an inarticulate scream, Vicky tore off, flying out of the house, looking absolutely done with the family, likely flying to see Dean.

That would… Be interesting if he let her know of his involvement.

"So Vicky is gone, so what is it you wanted to say that you didn't want her around for? Something worse than monster?" Amy said, crossing her arms under her chest.

"Amy, Carol didn't mean that." Aunt Sarah tried to interject, only for Carol to talk over her.

"You are a monster. A daughter of a villain, an unwanted child forced on me and now you're finally showing your true colors."

"Carol…" Uncle Neil said as Aunt Sarah grasped her shoulder harshly, whispering something in her ear looking pissed off.

Amy shrugged in a what can you do manner, eyeing Crystal and Eric who looked absolutely flabbergasted and uncertain at the situation evolving.

Mark of course just seemed to be there, just nodding his head along whenever Carol spoke. Useful much there 'dad'.

"You forced her on me in the first place, Sarah, stop telling me to settle down!" Carol snapped at her sister.

Neil and Sarah both backed down, seemingly lost for words at the situation.

Amy just shook her head at how pathetically messed up this entire family was. Honestly she was better off without them.

"So, to recap, I'm a monster, daughter of a villain, Marquis right? I was forced on you, got it all?" Amy said brightly, the entire family staring at her agape at her weird reaction.

She scoffed, "What, how stupid do you think I am? You think I only now noticed Carol hated me? She's made that perfectly clear…"

"So what are you saying that you don't want Vicky around for, mother dear." Amy asked.

Carol took a step forward almost looking like she'll use her power, Aunt Sarah again grasping her shoulder to hold her back, looking disturbed.

"Get out, that's what I want, you're not mine, you never was, get out of my home, you're off the team, go and don't come back!" Carol said harshly, bitingly cold.

Amy just nodded, looking around at the family, seeing everyone kind of looking shell shocked.

"Good talk." She said brightly, and turned around and left, stopping briefly at the door, giving a cheery wave, "Neil, Mark, Sarah, Crystal, Eric, thank you all for your impassioned defense of me being a human being, it honestly moved me to tears." She tilted her head consideringly, "Or maybe I imagined that part. Oh well, must be the monster in me confusing me."

Good thing they couldn't see how hard she was grinning as she stepped out, it would have ruined the whole thing.

---

Amy left the house, not at all bothered with how things went down, she wasn't particularly interested in the status quo of Brockton Bay, and she definitely hadn't been interested in spending the next two years under Carol's thumb, being harassed for anything she did 24/7.

She wondered what would happen once Vicky came back from her 'cooling flight' to find that Amy had essentially moved out. Or been kicked out on the street - whichever interpretation she'd fall under.

There would be fireworks no doubt, she was almost sad that she wouldn't be there to see it. But it wasn't worth sticking around and getting bitched at by Carol for however long it took for Vicky to come back.

Plus this would collect some bonus points towards the turning her sister evil track.

She had better things to do anyway than be blathered at by a shriveled up shrew who'd given up on life already and was bitter at everyone for being happier than her.

She walked down the street, bringing her phone out again, her lips stretched into a self satisfied grin. Freedom, she was a girl on a mission, to enjoy life, to spit in the face of those that wanted to control her. New Wave, just like the PRT would have just been an anchor weighing her down.

As she walked, heading towards the boardwalk for now, she typed up a quick addition to her previous post. The thread already had several thousands of replies in - she was about to blow up the local internet even more.

Hello again, Brockton Bay,

As an update on what's going on, I arrived back home, or what I thought was my home, to get the same treatment as the PRT doled out,

Glory Girl was the only one of New Wave that stood up for me, everyone else passively allowed Brandish to brand me the new Nilbog, a stain on the name of New Wave, and then came the real truth bombs.

Not everyone in Brockton is aware that I was adopted, but it hasn't been kept a secret either, just not advertised. What I didn't know until now, was that Carol Dallon did not want me. She was forced into adopting me by the rest of the family at the time.

She made it clear today that she always knew I would be evil, that I wasn't a member of the family, and that I was not a member of New Wave. Basically leaving me with nothing.

So… Anyone have a couch for me for a night while I figure things out? Because I no longer have a home, a team, or apparently a family. (Excluding Glory Girl)

So…

That's been my day,

If this is how biokinetics are treated, no wonder I'm the only known 'good one' if this is the normal reaction.

Don't worry everyone, no matter how much Director Piggot and Carol Dallon want to make me a monster,

I'll remain me.

Just… Homeless version of me.

Amy hit post, wondering how long before she'd be approached by the various players out there. Would Coil come first, being local and all, or would the likes of the Elite approach her first?

She'd have to disappoint them, she'd turn down working directly for them, but she was open to deals. But first of all, she needed new digs, so she could start exploring her power, make herself a real power in this world. Her posts would give her some breathing room, the public would be coming in mostly on her side until the PRT could begin to switch the narrative - or at least she was fairly sure that's how it would lean for now.

She needed to keep a good reputation, until she didn't need it anymore, just to avoid the complications that could arise from top tier heroes if she was actually classified as a new Nilbog.

She watched as her PM's filled up, offers flying in, most of them the obvious cape weirdos offering their basement - hard no on that.

She didn't need to be tied up in someone's basement and subjected to a number of humiliating things… Unless they were hot.

She recognized one name however, although only from fanfictions that she'd read once upon a time, when she'd been able to at least move her hands, able to read on her own - before she'd deteriorated to the point she needed assistance for even that.

AllSeeingEye. Tattletale. Potentially. The invite to talk certainly held a certain amount of smug I-know-it-all attitude to it that matched her.

Now the question was, if that was indeed her, was it for herself and her plans that she offered, or was Coil making her offer? Or was Lisa just stretching a hand out for a young girl down on her luck, like she would for Taylor?

Either way, Amy thought it could be fun. She sent a PM back, asking for contact details. A phone number flashing into her inbox only seconds later.

She dialed it, speaking up the second the phone call was picked up, "So, Tattletale, what's up?"

There was a second of silence, before Tattletale laughed, sounding delightedly amused, "Now, now, this is interesting." She said, and Amy could almost picture the vulpine grin on her face from the tone of her voice. "You know me, somehow, I can't quite figure it out, but that's interesting, how do you know that?"

Amy eyed her surroundings, keeping her voice low as she continued walking, well aware night was not far away, "Asking me? Aren't you supposed to be able to figure anything out?" She teased smugly.

"Not very heartbroken about recent events, are you?" Tattletale said dryly, slipping right past Amy's dig, before making a querying noise from the back of her throat, "No… You actually wanted this, wanted independence…" She said rapidly as if struck by inspiration, "Holy shit, you planned this, maybe not every step, no, you took advantage of the situation to get what you wanted, but you wanted to be kicked out!"

"I guess you're not half bad." Amy said approvingly, "What else can you get out of what I've done lately?" She asked, curious what a thinker could pull out of her actions.

There was silence on the line, broken suddenly by excited breathing noises that would have drawn Amy's mind to something completely different if she was talking to anyone else. Amy just laughed, having an idea of what exactly Tattletale was figuring out, "I think you might want to wait for a private meeting for anything else." She said leadingly. Knowing Tattletale was unlikely to be unmonitored if she was with Coil, if she was, then it was likely not that long ago that she'd gotten that 'job offer'

"Texting you the address." Tattletale said abruptly, sounding a bit freaked out but trying to play it off as brusqueness, hanging up immediately.

Oops, maybe I shouldn't have hinted about knowing about her situation. Amy thought, before she shrugged, looking up the address she was sent, depositing her phone in her pocket afterwards. She could deal with Tattletale, and Coil didn't really worry her either. He might be a child abducting pervert, but he was one perfectly willing to make deals.

He wouldn't bother with kidnapping Amy if she was perfectly willing to make deals after all, why bother with it if he could already get what he wanted?

And it wasn't like she had a problem with him taking Dinah Alcott either, she wasn't Taylor. With the world ending anyway, why does some girl she doesn't even know, matter? Answer of course is she doesn't. So yeah, she'll work for Coil if it comes up, or kill him, or something else fun, who knows, depends on what's interesting at that moment.

Maybe he'll try and use her to cure Noelle and there could be a few hundred little Amy clones running around. She laughed delightedly, uncaring if anyone saw - because that would be an apocalyptic scenario. Or would they turn good? Maybe worth trying just for shits and giggles.

Tattletale didn't live far from the boardwalk, more towards the Empire territory, which was smart, considering she was a white blonde teenager - she'd get free security from the gang just by walking onto Empire streets.

In ABB territory she'd be too likely to get another kind of security if she was alone. The kind with a cell, a chain attached to a bed, and three square meals of dick a day.

Being able to safely walk the streets was a big relief in Brockton Bay. It no doubt was a load of her mind when she needed to go grocery shopping outside her villain persona - the benefit of being white and cute in a white residential and business area

She also wasn't too far from Coil's territory, which helped her safety for as long as she was useful for the man - in case she needed a quick getaway. Amy was kind of flying by the seat of her pants, not really that interested in long term planning, so Tattletale wasn't really a bad choice as far as who to get in bed with. (Heh)

"Panacea… Kaiser wants a word." Amy jerked her head up at the calm words uttered not far from her position.

Oops, she'd gotten lost in her mind and stopped paying attention to her surroundings, that was annoying. She idly looked down the street to the cape standing there. Victor, not too bad for her, all things considered. He wasn't Hookwolf or Stormtiger, or Night and Fog. Really, he was as ideal as could be for a cape she could tell to fuck off without having to create a plague on the fly for, that would likely be entirely indiscriminate due to time and material constraints.

It's not like America really needed Brockton Bay anyway, it didn't exist in her world after all and that world worked just fine without it.

He was by himself too, which meant either this was a completely coincidental meeting, or they were trying some sort of soft sell. She snorted quietly to herself, they were really shooting high if they thought she could be recruited when this all started with her turning one of their men black. She had a feeling this was simply a meeting of opportunity, she was near their territory after all, and her last post just happened, so unlikely Victor even knew about it.

"Victor." She said politely, continuing to walk, forcing him to make the choice to either step in line to follow her, or to attempt to stop her. Either way, he'd have to touch her if he wanted to stop her, and that would not end well for him.

Victor stepped in causally to walk next to her, just enough space between them to be out of range if she were to attempt to reach over. "New Wave won't be able to protect you from the PRT." He said mildly, "Kaiser just wants to talk, explain his side of things for a young woman that's been fed lies."

Amy felt a smile tugging at her lips, "I guess you're behind the times, is the internet too gay for you guys to use?" She said, being slightly unfair, because she'd just posted her split with New Wave, but seeing the confused body language of the villain next to her was admittedly funny.

"Am I to take it that you're turning down a meeting?" Victor asked, shedding his confusion and focusing on his task.

Amy chuckled darkly, flexing her fingers, side-eying the now slightly tense Nazi next to her. "You want me in the same room as Kaiser? Shooting for a coup, Victor?" Her lips twisted into a vicious smirk, "Because it sounds like you want the girl capable of creating plagues in an enclosed space with your leader."

"...You're a hero…" Victor said, stepping away a couple of extra steps, watching her more warily now.

How cute, Amy thought, laughing lightly, pulling some of her hair behind her ear, giving Victor a teasing look, "~Am I?"

Victor rallied remarkably quickly, "We would happily take you in, we could protect you if you're leaving heroing behind, even if you're a rogue, the Empire would support you, even behind the scenes if necessary."

Amy shook her head, even when almost right out saying it, he still thinks I meant rogue, not villain. How amusing. "Sure, I'll join." She said idly, waiting for Victor to take that in and puff up with achievement, before she continued, "One condition though." She held her hand out, "I can tell if you're lying by touch, so show me you're telling the truth and that I wouldn't be walking into a trap."

Victor eyed her hand warily, different needs obviously warring within him. "You're playing me." He said with sudden realization, voice suddenly rougher then the pleasantly calm voice he'd used up until now.

Amy snapped her fingers cheekily, "Oh well." She said with a quick laugh, "I guess not every Nazi is entirely retarded."

"You don't have the kind of backup to talk like that anymore, New Wave don't fight the Empire for a reason." Victor said forcefully, his body language much more aggressive, even as he kept his distance. "Ask Fleur…"

Amy couldn't exactly walk into Tattletale's apartment with Victor, the girl would never forgive her. She eyed the Nazi contemptuously, She couldn't give less of a crap about Fleur, except she had been family, which meant she wouldn't allow the whole thing to stand now that she was going to become someone. "Oh, I know, but unlike New Wave, I don't fight." She purred, taking a step forward towards Victor. "I'm much worse." She took another step, smile growing wider as she intentionally widened her eyes giving herself a somewhat crazy expression, "You'll never know if that next beer you have was tainted and would turn your guts inside out, if that shower in your apartment has a flesh eating virus inside the pipes waiting to be released. If the very air you breathe will turn against you."

Victor jumped back several steps, getting into a marital arts stance, before realizing how bad of an idea that would be, and halting, ending up in some half frozen stance. "You wouldn't, that's enough to get that kill order!" He snapped, but his voice was strained, the man suddenly realizing what he was dealing with.

Amy laughed, wiggling her fingers at him, "Prove it's me and not some Nazi victim pouring poison into your pipes, if any of you are alive to complain anyway." Her expression turned vicious, her half lidded glare meeting Victor's gaze, "Any of you take Fleur's name in your filthy mouths again near me and you won't even realize you're dead, you'll just all drop one day, without a single word of warning."

She grinned widely, "Bonesaw has a kill order too, a shame though, seems she's still alive anyway… People that messed with her… Not so much…"

Fleur's death had ruined New Wave, and that had nothing to do with Amy. But using her dead family member (even if step family) as some sort of threat against her. No. She wouldn't allow it. They were all still hers. No one touched her things. She took another step towards Victor, changing the bacteria she uses to smell nice, giving it a fluorescent sheen for a few moments, her hand glowing sickly green. "Get out, and tell Kaiser that I'll let him and his continue to live, only if they never darken my doorstep again. You touch anything of mine even for a second, and a biblical plague will come your way."

"We don't take well to threats, Panacea." Victor hissed out, eyes focused on her hands as he backed up slowly.

"Neither do I. Any of you come near me, I'll see it as a threat." She said, changing the bacteria on her skin back to its regular setting, letting the green glow fade.

She eyed Victor, sneering disparagingly, "Why are you still here?" She bit out, turning her back on him, affecting nonchalance, "Run back to your master, deliver my message."

Victor walked away, never once leaving his back to her the entire time, Amy saw it all out of the corner of her eye. Sighing as he walked onto another street.

Picking a fight with the Empire was probably more of that whole, not planning things out problem she had. But really, they'd thought she was ripe for recruiting? She'd meant what she said, if they came after her, she'd eradicate them.

Hopefully they'd be smart enough not to push, but she doubted it would last long. It's her own fault for walking in her Panacea uniform anyway, she should have changed at home before the whole argument.

At least the Empire would have a hard time finding her to bother her. Ditch the uniform, color her hair, and not even her own family would pick her out of a crowd, while Victoria Dallon is well known, Amy Dallon is practically invisible. Small changes would ensure she wouldn't be bothered even if the Empire wanted to start anything.

Her phone dinged, and she fished it out of her pocket, keeping a wary eye on her surroundings so as to not be blindsided by a Nazi again.

Oh it was Sophia, she must have finally been released from the various dressing downs from sneaking into the Rig.

"What the fuck, you're homeless now!!!?"

Amy scoffed, texting back, "Three exclamation marks seem excessive."

Finally she was arriving within sight of Tattletales apartment building, instead of heading onwards she ducked into an alley, just in time to receive another text. Sophia must not be alone, or she'd definitely have called to yell in person.

"That's what you text back? Not anything on how the fuck you ended up with your parents kicking you out!?" Sophia texted back, the frustration bleeding through in her words.

Amy chuckled to herself, fingers flying as she texted back quickly. "Yup, how's life in heroville? You get grounded for the year?"

She put her phone on a nearby dumpster, quickly divesting herself of her uniform. She wore clothes under her uniform obviously, and Tattletale would probably appreciate her not walking into the building in uniform.

She didn't need it anymore anyway. Panacea was dead.

She picked her phone back up just in time for her phone to ding again.

"The other Wards actually defended me to Piggot, it was weird, I only got a month of console duty. Wait, stop fucking changing the subject. Homeless!!!? Where the fuck are you, do you need a place to stay?"

"Nah, someone off PHO offered me their couch. Aww, you and the other wards are going to be bwestest fwiends!"

"Fuck off! And what the fuck, you can't just crash on some random fucks couch, do you want to be raped and murdered? Because that's how you get fucking raped and murdered you idiot! Just come stay at my place, my mom won't give a fuck."

Amy let out a disbelieving laugh, four days of hanging with Shadow Stalker, and now she has a psycho friend begging her to come live with her. Well, at least she had options if Tattletale wanted to be as bitchy as she remembered.

"I'll keep your offer in mind, gotta go meet the murderer who's couch I'm crashing on - unsure if she's a rapist though, I'll check, enjoy braiding your hair with Vista!"

She turned off her phone notifications, putting it away, feeling like she'd gotten the last word.

She poked her head out of the alley, looking both ways, no one out and about that she could see. She walked out onto the street and made her way to Tattletales tenement building.

Time to see how this would go.

At the very least it should be interesting.

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

Dungeon Core Coral.


A little snippet I wrote up when I was in a bit of dungeon fics binge,


Figured I might as well put it out here,


Warning I suppose for some hard language and light mutilation - although not shown.


Enjoy



＊＊＊


Picture a stretch of coast, ragged cliff sides being battered by clear almost cyan blue waters. Algae and Corals creeping up the crevices of the cliffs. Bathed in the foam of the constantly high waves.


The beauty of the sea impacting the land is not transferred further inwards, as the land itself is barren rock, not a patch of grass in sight. The land stretching into the sea as if a thick limb separating from the main land. In a few areas the land slopes down into small inlets. The lower ground covered in clumpy sand with spots of algae and various sea delivered detrius.


Now picture in one of those inlets, there is a crack in the rock facade. Now imagine that you could hear screaming. You can't of course. No one can hear it.


That doesn't mean it isn't there…


In fact the screaming and swearing had gone on for quite some time. You couldn't blame him really. Having gone to bed as a normal human being with a normal job and a normal life, he had awoken inside a tiny cave, his entire existence a cyan little orb of a jewel. Well, he was gorgeous no doubt about that. Definitely the best jewel around. It's just… He had been quite attached to his legs, and arms. Other parts would also be sorely missed. The ability to talk had been quite useful too. Screaming in pure frustration and anxiety just wasn't the same when you weren't making any sound.


Now why was he screaming? Well apart from the whole woke up without his body, now existing as a floating orb. Which was a whole thing to be anxious about. He had also been completely gypped in this new beautiful orb life. He was a dungeon core, or at least that was his assumption, he doesn't know what other kind of beings exists as an orb in a cave. Except no matter what he tried to think, yell or force forward, he didn't see a system, status or monster breeding option, any option really. He would settle for a mana bar or count or something, just anything.


All he had. Was a tiny cave, a crack in a wall from which water sloshed in and out. And of course his own astonishingly beautiful self. Which could just sit there, looking amazing. Uselessly. And scream. He didn't know if he's in his own world, another world. If there is a God in this/his world. They/it have not responded to his many many insults of their parentage or sexual habits visavi goats.


Perhaps the gods are goats and are therefore not as insulted as they should be about their mating habits. When one has all the time of the world, one ponders such things.


A sudden gush of a wave, stronger than before sends a whole mess of algae and sea life through his crack, smacking his orb in the face. Do orbs have faces? Who cares! He's the orb here and he's going to say his face was very rudely smacked. The ocean would rue the insult one day. Once he figured out how to do more than scream profanities at it.


If the ocean could her it, the ocean would be feeling those insults keenly, he'd had a lot of time to sharpen his wit.


Suddenly the algae and fish which had landed beneath him started turning into motes of light, and he could feel something. Some sort of pressure at the back of his head. Or orb as it was. Was this mana? Another few waves splashed against him and he felt the pressure build, not unpleasantly, it was just there. This was some kind of bullshit! He'd been there screaming his orb off for however many hours or days, the water had washed in constantly, including fish, debris and plants. And nothing happened. Why now?


He pondered the question, wondering if perhaps a god had heard his pleas/insults. Then disregarded it. As it was, if he had been heard, a positive outcome was less than likely. He wasn't sure if orbs could be smited… or was it smote? Either way he had enough orb related issues to deal with to wonder too much.


Like considering his general shape, was there a possibility that his greatest enemy would be a pickup game of soccer and being mistaken for a ball?


Concentrating hard, he could now feel a constant flow with every incoming wave. The ocean was penetrating his crack (hah, humor!) and was bringing him gush after gush of life, and therefore mana, with every pass. He paused, going over his last thought. That might not be the best way to put it, even in his own head. He really wished he had a face he could rub exasperatedly.


No. No bringing gushing and his face into question in the same stream of thought!


Could orbs even have a sex life? He moved away from that thought quickly, because he had a feeling the answer was, no… And he wanted to pretend he was quite the fetching orb, all in all.


Okay! So for some reason he could suddenly use what he couldn't ten minutes ago. Cool. He had no idea why, but he'd roll with it. Heh, roll. He's an orb... No! Focus! Mana, dungeony things. Work. He knew work. It was that thing you pretended to do because you needed money to eat food and play videogames. So…. How can he go about making it work?


He tried again to pop up a menu of some sort now that he sort of had mana, he thought it's mana anyway. Alas, help is not forthcoming. So he concentrated really hard, staring at the wall behind his orby self and imagining carving a corridor further into the rock. Nothing happened. He imagined it harder. With helpful swear words. The rock wall mocked him with its permanence. It took him an embarrassingly long time to try and touch that swirling pressure that's constantly filling now, that he feels sort of behind his imaginary head. He attempted to direct it to the wall. Thinking very hard of a corridor.


Like magic the rock started parting, no sound being made as tons of rock, just shifted to make space for a large smooth corridor. Yeah that's right rock wall! Take that! He thought at it smugly. Now that he was concentrating on it, he could feel the slight dip in the feeling of whatever it was swirling around his orb unseen. He decided to just call it Mana. No need to be complicated and make up something new, probably was Mana anyway, and he'd look such a silly rural dungeon going about naming it something else. Was there a convention for dungeon cores? Dungeon email?


Dungeon blind dates?


Anyway, back to figuring things out. The dip had been miniscule for the corridor, which had him look at the constant flow of water coming into his dungeon and draining out from it again - flowing through by a crack in the ground at the back of his tiny cave. How much mana was he getting from this? And really, this was kind of all kinds of cheating if he just got a refill every few seconds. He wondered if he had a limit?


Something like a system or notifications would be really swell he thought really hard at everything. Nothing happened of course - everything was very rude. Maybe constant mana delivery is his consolation prize for having absolutely zero help or assistance in figuring things out, and being placed in a completely barren land. One hell of a consolation in that case, maybe he could even do something about the barrenness with no need to worry about mana expenditure.


He'd have to see how quick he ran down to the bottom of his mana if he really started building. See if the mana delivery system he was 'born' with, worked with lots of expenditure. If it did. Well then that would make him a very happy orb! As a human being turned orb. Or core, he should call himself - He wasn't relishing killing humans for mana, which seemed to always be the best way to earn it in stories he remembered. If he had enough mana coming in already, maybe if he was a nice dungeon with lots of resources and pretty things, people wouldn't want to kill him?


Wishful thinking perhaps. Yet worth a try, he didn't want to spend his core life murdering people. He didn't really want to die either, if it came down to it. Hopefully things would work out. Common sense would prevail, it would be stupid to murder a dungeon giving you nice things right? He pondered safeguarding his life on the belief humankind would have or exercise common sense…. Right… A small amount of traps and monsters wouldn't go amiss, he thought - wishing be could sweatdrop, but an orb would look silly doing things such as that.


And if there was a convention, he didn't want to look bad in front of all the other cooler orbs.


He looked at his new corridor. Alright. Time to find out what he could do. First floor. And… He rummaged through his mind, feeling out for what he could do. Most of what washed into him were algae, corals and fish. Let's see how he could turn that into something special.


＊＊＊


It turned out that once he got into the swing of things, it really wasn't that hard to control the space inside his dungeon. Just a thought was enough to send out his mana to cover whatever he wanted changed. And then like magic it would happen.


He'd get these feelings when he did, a slight warmth when what he was doing would work, and a warning chill when something either wouldn't work, or required more mana then he had available. He had decided he wasn't willing quite yet to test and see which of them the chill was or attempt to drain himself that low on mana, even if he kept getting fed more by the ocean. Not until his core was better protected.


It seemed he was either being fed enough, or had a large capacity already filled up. Because he planned to go grand, so the first and likely only room on his first floor he made into a huge cavern. The rock and dirt melting away quickly as soon as he laid a thin film of his mana over it. Somehow he felt that if he ever needed lots of rock and dirt it was there for him to pull out now. Neato.


Now it was time to Bob the builder this shit. Except with magic, so…Not actually like Bob the builder at all.


God… He missed cartoons…


So now he had a miles long and deep cavern. So… Lights right. Lights would be good. Did he have anything that could make light? Trying to think of lightbulbs served up the equivalent of an error message into his brain, he felt an incompleteness, probably a sign he lacked the materials. That's fine. Lightbulbs weren't impressive anyway, he'd just wanted to test it.


He'd have to figure out something else, for now the dark wasn't a problem. He could see just fine. It was him after all. If some people entered right now he didn't particularly want them able to find their way. With a thought his orbiness gently floated to the back of the large cavern instead of right by the entrance.


Hmm.. Maybe he should start with the entrance before he poked around more. He eyed the small stairs coming down from the crack, it really didn't have the proper atmosphere to walk down just three steps. Not very dungeony.


He'd be so ashamed if people walked in right now, it would be like he wasn't wearing any pants.


God.. He missed pants… Or at least the parts that filled them.


With a thought the entrance level and cavern both sunk down, the stairs to the dungeon entrance growing into two dozen steps. He eyed the water still flowing down the steps. He cut several inches of space on either side of the stairs, rock crumbling into nothingness, then created a small space under the stairs and up the back of the walls. A nudge of mana telling the water how to behave had it divert to the sides, come back up through the back of the walls, which opened up near the highest point of each wall in a long thin edge.


This allowed the water to fall back down the wall into the sides of the stairs as two long miniature waterfalls. Creating a nice ambiance of falling water, and although the stairs still got wet from some splashage, there weren't waves of water coming down the stairs anymore. No adventures would die from slipping down the entrance stairs in his dungeon!


Which probably defeated the purpose of a dungeon, but he felt it would be terribly embarrassing to kill someone by something that could be defeated by a wet floor sign.


Still it needed more oomph, the walls slowly changed into brilliant white coral with golden corals slightly protruding from the walls into themes of massive waves impacting a wild explosion of fire, creating a cloud of steam in the middle, a figure only partly visible in the steam, showing a mad toothy grin.


The other wall got the same treatment this time with a kraken crushing a ship in it's grip, little sailors sinking into the abyss where again a non distinct form is shown only that grin completely visible. He added some luminous algae down the walls, and hanging off the ceiling, giving off a sickly green light that just barely lit up the entrance way. With the white walls it was enough light to safely descend the stairs.


You could do a lot with coral it seemed, just using different coloured ones you could paint any picture you wanted.


Lastly he edited the bottom and top of the stairs, sinking the ceiling slightly and adding dripping stone fangs, having fangs and sharp teeth protruding out of the bottom as well, giving the impression of walking into the beasts mouth, lowering the ceiling enough a normal sized person would have to squeeze through the entrance, mindful of the sharp fangs.


Maybe he went a little bit overboard, but he wanted shock and awe didn't he? To really impress people, and maybe scare them just a little, so they would hopefully be less likely to want to do bad bad things to him.


He turned to his little entrance cave, where he had been 'born' and transformed it to just a continuation of the corridor to his large cavern. Smoothing over the crack in the floor. A new tunnel under the stairs leading back out to the ocean to continue the cycle of water flowing in and then leaving again. He wasn't cruel enough to make his first floor a water level. He still had nightmares from Zelda thank you very much.


Water levels were just evil, only a truly evil soul could invent them, so of course it had been gamers and developers that did it.


He looked over his large cavern like first room. There really wasn't much he could do with such limited materials. He wasn't even sure how he'd go about creating monsters yet. Just imagine something and stuff it with mana? Would it be sapient? Could it respawn or would it die permanently if killed. He was reluctant to experiment yet. It would be pretty horrible to create someone intelligent just for them to die days later for nothing. Did they need food? Or was Mana enough? Would they die if he ran out of Mana?


No. Monsters would have to wait. He needed to think more about it. So what could he do? First off, it was all pretty barren and boring looking. He stuck to the coral theme and transformed every surface into coral. Choosing a mix of golden and white coral again to give it a more rich look.


He grew an entire outcropping of corals on the ground, with twisting paths going through them. He felt the coral with his mana, and they were just that, normal coral, he tried to suffuse then with Mana and make them harder to break, it worked to a point. He could feel them getting denser. Then he got that little chilly feeling signifying most likely that he was missing a material to harden it properly. If he had some steel or the like he could probably move it further along. It really proved that materials was going to be the logjam in this whole dungeon thing.


Did this world have Amazon? Did Bezos accept payment in slightly used algae?


He moved along from his outcropping of corals for now. Raising some off the floor into sloping hills and valleys, creating outjutting coral shelves on the walls with small crumbling coral paths leading up to them against the wall.


Maybe he'd carve some caves up there for monsters later, or some puzzle or resource. He carved a groove across the floor, halfway through the cavern, ending in a carved out basin at the left side of the cavern against the wall. Then he punched a hole through the right side high up the wall over the start of the groove and connected it via a dozen small tunnels to the ocean, making it small enough no human could swim through. It also had the benefit of adding more water rushing into his innards supplying him with more Mana. The water rushing through the dozen holes, finishing into one large hole in the wall and falling down in a majestic waterfall into the cut out groove.


He watched as the river filled up, and as his carved out basin filled to the brim and became a lake. He noticed with interest that with no escape tunnel for the water built yet under the lake, the water all flowed into that storage space he could feel somewhere inside him. Useful that. Maybe he'd skip the tunnel funneling water out of him just for this one place. He looked above the lake, to where he had a small shelf of coral jutting out.


He pondered. He had gravity. So could he make gravity his bitch with Mana then? He could with everything else that was inside him. He made a small island of coral grow out of the little shelf. Then cut off the connection and willed the island to stay in place. Covering it with his Mana. Feeling it strain against him. He stubbornly added alot more Mana. Enough that he actually felt the dip this time. The island stopped struggling.


He whooped in joy as it sat up there, a few feet of air separated from the shelf on the wall. Just hanging in the air above the lake. He quickly added another three islands, creating a ring of four islands hanging perfectly in sync with the circumference of the lake, but up in the air. He created a small little island in the middle of the lake. Perfectly in the middle. He'd figure out something fun with that once he had something fun to figure out with.


Really he didn't have much to do, not that he could think of in the moment. So he started just prettying up the place, cutting corals into elaborate trees or pillars against the walls, and other beautifying little edits.


The sea would bring him materials eventually. He'd just have to wait.


Now he didn't have any beer bottles but he could imagine it as he began singing 99 bottles of beer on the wall, lacking much else to do.


＊＊＊


Elsewhere,


The people of the tiny village of Millerton had all turned up in the small town square, it wasn't much of a square, just as it wasn't really a town, village really didn't do it justice either, but you couldn't call a place just some houses and assorted stuff. So the town of Millerton it was. There was just one muddy street through Millerton, so the middle of the street had simply been appropriated for the occasion. As the only village near the Titan's arm - life was hard.


The Titan's arm or as it was sometimes called when children weren't around, Malorn's dick, had been lush and full of farms once upon a time. Now the entire area, a full thirty percent of the kingdom, jutted out into the ocean as just barren rock. And as they were on the edge of that, Millerton constantly struggled to manage a good harvest.


In typical Malorn stubbornness. No one ever even mentioned moving somewhere else, or maybe just putting the village 15 miles more inland. This is where they lived for the past 15 generations, this is where they'd keep living. They'd snap at you that this was proper Millerton mud around these parts and it would be folly to give that up for some strange worse mud, further inland.


Who knew what weird shit was going on with that inland mud after all.


A dirty bedraggled man covered in scrapes and bruises, and yes, mud - was led forward by some men in boiled leathers with swords hanging by their sides. The mark of the kingdom on their chests. The man was dragged in front of the jeering crowd, (All 33 of them) and stood up in front of a young woman and a stern looking man in mud covered armor, once gleaming perhaps, but now having suffered through enough dings and scrapes to be considered well worn. His short cropped dark hair had started to show signs of grey. His dark eyes pierced through not only the squirming filthy man in front of him, but the men holding him and the crowd beyond.


"What is his crime, Sir Rowen?" The young woman asked tiredly, she was an unusual one. Olive skinned with golden hawk like eyes, and long dark hair falling in several long braids behind her. Undoubtedly beautiful, in a scary kind of way. Even then, to the shock of many in the village, she was wearing leathers and a sword. They'd heard she was… unusual. It was all fine for adventurers to prancy about in leathers and waving swords around - but surely not for someone like her.


In Millerton, ladies made due with a ladle or a frying pan, none of this pointy weaponry, it was unladylike. Of course many a woman in Malorn had muttered at some point under their breath, that the reason swords were 'unsuitable' for women… Was because if they had them, there soon wouldn't be many men around. The frying pan and ladle does keep them alive, see. Just slightly more concussed, which all Malorn ladies agree doesn't really make much of a difference from their normal state of being.


The rest of the kingdom when queried about the women of Millerton have one word of advice - no.


Usually followed by going to the nearest religious dwelling and praying for your immortal soul.


The knight in his muddy armor sat calmly on his steed, hands resting on the pommel of his saddle, "Rape, your Highness. He was caught in the act with the innkeeper's daughter… There can be no doubt, several witnesses heard her screams and ran to her aid." Sir Rowen answered with a distasteful twist to his lips. The most he allowed to express himself. The rest of him could have just as well been carved out of stone. In a small community like this, where everyone not only knew everyone, but could probably, while blind and deaf, identify the rest of the villagers by smell alone. Rape was an unusual sort of crime. How he'd ever thought he'd get away with it…


Well… Every village usually had a village idiot, the usually just drowned them nice and young and saved themselves the headache.


The young princess pursed her rosebud lips, her somewhat hawkish nose twitched as if she could smell the foulness of the man. In Malorn, rape was generally punished by death. Usually, the accused never made it as far as a lawman. No doubt if she and her small retinue had not been passing through the man would have been ripped apart. She approved of such justice. It certainly saved money on lawmen. Technically death as a penalty wasn't actually on the lawbook for rape, its just what happened so often that it was generally assumed that the law was as such.


Somehow no one ever seemed to end up punishing anyone for killing a rapist either. One of life's many mysteries. Truly the law worked in strange ways.


"Do you have something to say in your defense?" She finally ended the silence with the query. More for formalities than anything - If Sir Rowen believed in his guilt, he was guilty, as simple as that. The old knight had been the one to look after her most of her life, trained her in the sword and the horse and taught her about justice. She trusted him without reservation. He was known throughout Malorn as a just and incorruptible man. Besides, even if she were to simply wash her hands of this and move on, the village would get their pound of flesh, best to make it all legal like.


The man would still be dead, but everyone would feel all nice and law abiding and like they did a service to the country.


The muddy scrawny looking man spat at the ground and sneered up at her. "Not like 'twas no point, yer already made up yer mind ain't ya?"


"Allow me, your Highness." Sir Rowen said calmly and made to dismount. Executing criminals was no hardship for a man like him. Sometimes she envied the absolute surety he had in everything. Other times, she found it disquieting. To believe so strongly in something that killing did not faze you anymore…


"No." The princess said resolutely, allowing her steed to step forward a few steps, before she expertly slid out of the saddle, patting her mount on the nose gently as she walked by. "Malorn is not a country of the weak." She spoke louder, so the crowd could hear her. "In Malorn… Everyone does their share, we all work until we fall down, and when we die… We go back to work because even death won't stop us from looking after our kin and land" A loud murmur of approval swept through the crowd. If there was ever anything a Malorn could agree on, it was stubbornness.


The old legends told of their ancestors taking the country due to simply out stubborning the rocky surface - showing those stupid rocks what was what.


"Family, Country, Fuck the rest!" Someone in the small crowd shouted, and it could be heard over and over again for several minutes before the princess raised her hand. Silence descended quickly. She was used to the chant, it was somewhat of an unofficial slogan for Malorn nowadays. "This man will not die." She said solemnly. Continuing on before the crowd could descend into outrage. "Malorn needs every hand, every worker. This… Pathetic criminal can still work in your fields."


Said criminal started laughing hysterically. "Ah, 'course the girl dinnae have the balls." He kept chuckling as the crowd sent him angry looks. There seemed a great many felt like they could do without him in the fields. No doubt if she didn't make it clear enough he was punished, they'd 'disappear' him, no matter what decree she made.


That would make her look weak, not something a royal could ever afford - especially in Malorn, where the people mostly follow the crown out of pure spite towards anyone else over any other reasons.


She drew her sword, "Someone grab a torch. He will need it to stop the bleeding." She ordered, heart shaped face hardening as she breathed harshly out her nose. "This man will never rape again! He will be fitted with a magic rune to never leave this village. He will work until his death, he will cleanse his sins in providing for his fellow man until his miserable life ends, so I decree!"


"N-now wait jus' a minute!" The man's face blanched, visible even though the mud. One of the guards in boiled leathers appeared with a burning torch. Looking queasy, the man was young enough he didn't even shave yet. The princess steeled herself. He too would be Malorn to the core after today. You did what you had to, and that was all there was to that. Squeamishness was a luxury not afforded by its leaders - certainly no one else had it.


The princess looked back at her mentor and received a calm nod back. She knew he would take over if she asked. That is why she could not ask. She is of Malorn - you use your own two hands, nothing else. She turned back to the criminal which was now begging and crying as the crowd stood silent and torn between elation and horrification. It's one thing to wish for a man's death, quite another to witness his mutilation. Even then, Malorn to the end, no one ran away, no one avoided bearing witness.


"Remove his trousers. And be ready with the fire." She ordered with forced calm as she raised her sword.


The only good thing Princess Aryn remembered after about the small village of Millerton - Was that she hadn't puked until she was back in her room at the inn, out of sight of the populace. Princesses punishing evil doers was acceptable, one upchucking all over herself was not, and would have spread across the country like wildfire.


She had to remain strong. Malorn couldn't afford any less. Weakness for the royal family meant death for all of Malorn. They were the last defense. The only defense.


She had to be better.


＊＊＊


Malorn Dungeon,


He had no real way to tell time, finessing his floor, spires of coral rising into the air, small bridges of coral criss-crossing between them, none large enough for a man to cross, more decorative then anything - or possible laneways for monsters high up in the air.


He was fully aware of everything inside of him. So when he felt something new wash into him he peered out of himself. And saw it was nighttime, a fierce storm was raging, lightning flashing as big waves crashed into the cliff wall and into him.


He noticed the ship immediately, being smashed into a reef. As he watched, the mast tore off and fell into the water with a monstrous splash. Quickly he carved a large space twenty feet under his entrance, just a cavern not leading anywhere except, because it was inside his boundary, anything that floated in or was pushed in would be his. He couldn't count on the sea washing up enough resources just through his entrance. The odds were too low. He moved further and pushed his new resource sucking cave down to the sea floor. Maybe some curious crabs would wander in and be absorbed. Although he found it odd regular animals didn't need to be killed, just entering him was enough for them to be absorbed into tiny little motes of Mana.


Perhaps this was not supposed to be possible, but technically he wasn't making another entrance, no one would be able to enter, only minor things, resources, animals…


First thing he noticed he received was a floating crate of different mushrooms and fungus, the crate breaking apart and spilling into his gathering space. He wrinkled a non-existent nose. The wood from the crate was good, he had wood now. You'd have to be crazy to use mushrooms however. He firmly decided he wouldn't do anything with those - using mushrooms for anything in a dungeon surely led to insanity.


Maybe he could make it so some of his corals have mushroom qualities so they could be eaten… Would that count as mushrooms? No that way lay madness.


Secondly, some wood floated in his actual entrance, still on fire from a lightning strike or maybe a careless sailor and an oil lamp. He wasn't sure, but he had fire now. Muahaha, he thought. Then he felt very silly.


Good thing no one could see him acting weird anyway.


He kept watching the ship wreck feeling different materials being absorbed with each wave. Fervently hoping no humans were going to be washing up. He really didn't want to eat one. The ship must have been carrying food however - as over the next hour numerous fruits and seeds and grains floated over to him.


Not exactly the first material he would have thought of, but he could work something out. He did luck out on receiving steel and iron through some clips still attached to pieces of barrels and containers that floated in. So all in all the shipwreck seemed to work out well for him. Although he felt bad for the people, he hadn't seen a single person, so they'd probably all drowned.


At least he thought, they died without being eaten. Seeing the frenzy of fins out in the ocean he sheepishly added, by him, not eaten by him. They weren't dungeon food. That was something at least right?


He turned his attention inwards. He had new materials to play with.


Because he did. He didn't notice the small boat bobbing along the waves, before finally washing ashore the tiny beach.


＊＊＊


The first thing he did was soaking his walls with mana and using the steel he had received and he hardened them to a steel quality. He did the same for the coral outcropping in the beginning of his room, so it would be harder to cheat their way through.


It would be forcing people to follow the path not go off wherever they wanted all loosey goosey. He closed in the walls towards the path, leaving just enough room for one person, twinning branches of coral above the path to prevent anyone from just climbing out. He made the large branches hollow, with exits only able to open from the inside. Once he had monsters and he decided to use them, there wouldn't be much room to maneuver away from monsters falling onto their heads in the cramped pathway.


He debated on traps. Hemming and hawing, not really that keen on killing people. He played with some coral over in another part of the room. Suffusing it with Mana, trying to impart conditions on it. After a few tries and a really large amount of Mana, he'd figured out how to layer a trap with a condition. It cost over ten times the Mana, but he had Mana to spare.


In the twisting pathway at the beginning of his floor he had the coral trees and walls and outcroppings grow thorns with sharpened edges strong and sharp as steel.


Not only would this ensure people had to walk carefully through the pathways to not cut themselves. He set them to fire off the thorns randomly if his conditions had been met. Adventurers wouldn't know if they'd be fired at from the sides, ahead, behind, it would be totally random. The conditions he set was that if at any point when entering, the words, kill, shatter, conquer or enslave the dungeon were uttered. The trap and other additions he added would becone active.


He had wished to have an intent based defense, but perhaps because he had not had any people inside yet, it simply didn't work to set up.


Or would cost an insane amount of Mana.


The other additions to his little fun area that was barely one tenth of his floor, was first of all making it more labyrinth-esque. He had the coral randomly grow across the pathway as other corals receded, twisting the pathway around back and forth and forcing people to sometimes backtrack as a new way might have opened all the way back at the entrance.


He imagined a party finally coming to the end of the maze like outcropping, seeing the exit, and a coral wall growing in front of it as another pathway opened just off the entrance. And he might have giggled a little in his head just now at that thought.


Maybe he wouldn't kill people, but pissing them off would be something, wouldn't it?


The second addition was creating his first monsters, although really they were critters more then anything. The algae just didn't give enough light and besides didn't fit inside his maze anyway, so all through the coral maze he created large globes of glass, something he had received through pieces of a broken mirrors coming in from the shipwreck. He filled the inside with water from his Mana space, or he figured he might as well just call it his inventory. Something around here should be proper at least.


He as a Dungeon Core was making the experience proper, like a system should be. Hint, hint.


He dropped in disappointment, still nothing, all the work dumped on just him. Lazy gods.


Anyways. He filled the glass globes with Mana rich water, then created glowing jellyfish inside them. With a snicker he made them slightly mischievous, the critters not having sapience just an inclination to mess with people. The glowing jellyfish were able to turn their glow off anytime, plunging the pathways into darkness.


He set a condition that if any of the globes were destroyed or the jellyfish harmed - all the globes would go dark. The jellyfish able to empty their globes of water on any torch or light they saw as revenge. Forcing brutish adventurers to go through the labyrinth with shooting thorns in complete darkness - a real thorny situation.


He needed someone to riff off, this was getting sad.


Well sadder than being a ball floating around in darkness all alone…


He left it at that. Anymore improvements to the globes and it would just be cruel. Besides, It would only be mean to mean people. Nice, happy people could just walk through his pretty, lit up, coral reef on the ground structure. Well… He'd probably keep the maze part, he couldn't be too easy, people would take him for granted.


After his coral maze he had the small hills he had created, from the top it allowed a good view of the rest of the room, well once there was some light and other things to see anyway. Now what to do with the hills and the slope up to them. Something to make them special.


He had wood now, oak apparently. He quickly populated his slopes and hills with thick woods, no discernible path through, forcing people to have to slip around giant trunks of trees. He created extra branches lower down, to get in people's faces and lower the amount of space for people to squeeze through. Higher up he created a roadway of branches tied together for possible monster habitation, even carving out the inside of trees with exit holes high up in the air.


He sunk his Mana into the forest, the oak trees slowly becoming coral, coloured in every possible color. He kept the pliability of the oak wood, but now colored and textured like coral. Even more Mana was expended, making the new coralwood waterproof and fireproof, as much as he was able. He wasn't sure if there were magical fires that burned hotter or anything. He now had a resource people would clearly want though. Wood that came in every color, very attractive and oceanic as well as water and fireproof.


He turned the leaves golden coloured to go with the aesthetic of the first floor, making them larger and more plentiful to hide the upper monster pathways. making sure the trees with the most garish colors were in the middle of the forest, he didn't want to clash too much after all. He wanted awe, not oh god those two colors together, how could you?


Although he wasn't sure fashion critics did dungeon diving. Most dungeon people probably were considered debonair if their teeth colors matched.


He set the leaves to fall often and fill up the ground, making it slippery as well as falling and blocking the vision of people traveling through. The leaves of course grew back immediately. He chuckled evilly to himself as he turned the ground up the hills into gravel and small rocks, making sure there would be no sure footing anywhere. Minor annoyances, that was his jam.


Speaking of annoyances… He played around with the fruits he had received. Heating them up and juicing them and messing around until he had a tasty syrup that was almost like a mix between strawberries and watermelon, and yes somehow he could taste it when he thought really hard about what the syrup tasted like.


He picked random trees and made them able to secrete the syrup. For people to collect. Or if the same condition had been set as in the coral labyrinth, people would stick to the trees like glue if they touched them. And he made sure it was one hell of a glue.


He kept finessing his trees and beginning area unaware of the passage of time. Soon day arrived. And the storm had completely abated.


In the small rowboat a figure stirred. Said figure could be called many things. Corpulent, a gentleman of a large stature, big boned. His men had mostly called him that fucking fat whale. When they were a few miles away on shore leave. In the privacy of their minds. And while looking furtively around to make sure he wasn't there. And if they could pull it off, in a foreign language just to be sure.


Even then he probably knew about it. He was just that kind of asshole everyone naturally hated.


"Get up you lazy sods!" Said captain roared as he kicked the other two figures lying in the boat. Both who quickly rose with groans and muttered swearwords. Both were wondering if death by storm was preferable to surviving with their captain and regretting many of their life choices.


"I dunno why you lot are complaining for, if the rest of the crew's dead, means more of the money for the three of us, eh? By the sea maidens puckered arsehole you're lucky lads!" He laughed uproariously for a minute, stroking his long greasy red beard. His tiny sunken eyes peered down at his grumpy sailors as they sank back down complaining of pains and aches.


Honestly he couldn't quite remember their names. He'd only bothered really with his first mate's name. And he'd had to kill the scallywag when it became a choice of his chest of ill gotten gains or his first mate fitting on the boat. That and also the chance his first mate might have gotten 'ideas'. The two nobodies' survival had simply been because he needed people to carry the damn chest. "Well up with you! Stop lazing about, you hear me, eh?" He put a hand on his saber threateningly.


It was his favorite one, he'd killed his dear old daddy with it, eventually. He'd taken a couple days, it was family after all.


Job and Tallor the two lucky surviving sailors of the ship the Leering Wench, put their feet on the sandy soil, and stood to attention as best as you could when you felt like you've been on spin cycle awhile, with a man who's only relationship with hygiene was having heard it mentioned sometime in passing, decades ago.


"Yes sir, Captain Rix." They mumbled out warily. Although registered as a merchant ship, and sometimes actually bringing merchandise, like they had on this trip, they were more used to pirating. And they had seen their captain cut his way through too many men to even imagine disobeying. Numerical advantages didn't mean much when your opponent could be counted as at least two people, maybe three after a good meal.


He was also damn hard to assassinate, passing so much gas in his sleep that no one could safely enter his cabin to do the deed.


"The water is too treacherous to attempt to travel inland right now men, luckily I can spot a cave. Grab my stuff, and we can hunker down until the water calms." Captain Rix ordered, standing watch over the two as they lifted his heavy chest and the sacks of food he'd brought along instead of more crew members. He refused to walk on and instead walked behind his men, not out of any cowardice. You didn't make it as a pirate if you were a coward. No, he simply wanted to make sure they didn't dare steal a jewel or coin, or a shank of lamb. He caressed his saber, they'd better not touch the lamb, he thought as they neared the crack.


＊＊＊


The dungeon felt a sudden tingling up his non-existent spine and suddenly the Mana he'd been using to improve his floor with, slipped out of his metaphysical fingers. His vision immediately moving to his entrance where just a few steps in, three people stood gaping.


He had guests! Actual guests at his dungeon! He wasn't ready! He still didn't have pants!


The two thin men were scarred and gangly and dressed in cheap tan trousers and shirts, with ropes as belts and bandanas around their head, holding dirty brown hair back. At least he hoped their hair color was brown… At their feet was a large heavy wooden chest, and a bunch of sacks. He noticed with humans now in his dungeon what they put down wasn't being absorbed. It made sense, even as it made him pout. He wanted whatever was in that chest.


Was he a loot goblin now? Were there tests one could take? Multiple choice questionnaires? He felt like he needed to know if he was one, it would be very important for his future dungeonness.


At least he found out he could understand the language as the beachball on legs in a dirty stereotypical captain's coat and hat, rubbed his hands together in apparent glee, shouting at the other two, "We've hit the motherlode boys! An honest to the sea maidens giant tits, dungeon!"


The dungeon watched with bemusement as the fat one bullied the other two down the stairs. And was that supposed to be swear words? What did a sea maidens anatomy have to do with it?


Did she know people were using her to say bad things? Or was she and her, ahem - anatomy - that well known?


"Captain, this is too detailed for a new dungeon, I'm not sure we should risk it." The taller gangly one said, shaking like a leaf. The dungeon decided to call him Shaggy. The other man cowering behind Shaggy nodded his head rapidly, "Yeah Cap'n, I heard new dungeons are only a hole in the ground not…" he waved at the walls apprehensively, "This…" He finished lamely. Obviously his name was now Scooby.


Surely nothing could go wrong with the Scooby gang exploring his body. As long as they didn't split the party anyway.


He wondered if he was actually Mr. Jenkins under an orb disguise.


The beach ball with a beard turned around slowly, his face reddening. "Now see here, who gave you permission to offer opinions?" He said with a dangerous air about him. "I know me dungeons. This is the shit hole nowhere end of Malorn's ruined dick! Nothing grows here, not since that Sorcerer blew it to bits decades ago!" He spat on the ground.


Well that was rude, the dungeon named him Fatty. Although he did have some interesting information. So he was in a country named Malorn. And the top above him had once had all life eradicated from it. That was a bit scary. He hoped those kinds of people didn't delve into dungeons…


He had a feeling his coral wouldn't do much to sorcerer's that blew up countries…


Fatty had continued talking, "- No way this is an old dungeon or there would be life all around the place and the kingdom of Malorn would be creeping all over it like the sea maiden over a sailors ballsack!" He was sounding very certain about what he was saying, and it made him curious about what effects dungeons had on the land around him.


"Captain, the walls?" Shaggy waved his arm pleadingly at the scenes and waterfall.


"It's a new dungeon cuz I say it is, eh!?" Fatty said threateningly. Shaggy looked like he would protest one more time, but Scooby placed a dirty hand around his mouth.


Fatty rubbed his hands eagerly, a look of avarice on his face. "A dungeon core, even if it's a new one, sells for a king's ransom, after we kill this one and rip it out. I'll be rich boys!" He crowed. Rushing down the stairs.


The two sailors exchanged a look, peering at the exit before both slowly followed their captain down the stairs, carrying the chest and sacks. Eventually placing them on the corridor floor past the entrance, sullenly awaiting orders.


The dungeon really regretted not creating some monsters as he watched the fatty captain crow about ripping his corpse out of here for profit. And very glad he made some traps. He was just now stuck worrying about whether they would be enough.


He suddenly felt his mortality again. There weren't any more traps worth mentioning yet, if they got past his first obstacles - he'd die. He didn't like the feeling. He wanted awe, but he'd neglected safety - there wasn't any reason he couldn't be beautiful and deadly as well. He had enough Mana to set conditions to only really go after the bad ones willing to kill him. Why had he been so careless? If he survived this he'd do better, he swore to himself.


He watched worriedly as Fatty ordered Shaggy and Scooby to leave the chests and sacks behind. They'd grab them on their return - they entered his coral maze and immediately the glowing jellyfish turned the lights off. Plunging them into pitch darkness.


He let out a sigh of relief, at least his conditions worked, he'd been a bit worried.


"Heh, dungeons think they're smart. By the sea maidens great tits they've got it wrong! Boys go back and scrape that glowing shit off the walls of the stairwell, grab a great clump each and hold it up in your off-hands, gimme some light here, eh?" Fatty crowed, looking mighty pleased with himself.


The dungeon, and he really needed to name himself if he survived this! Watched in dismay as his glow in the dark algae was scraped off the walls of the stairwell and continued to glow, since they fed off his Mana. And he couldn't change that because he couldn't do a thing while they were on his only floor. Same as with a name and more deadly traps and monsters… Create a second level for his core ASAP!


Or maybe some damn monsters!


Fatty grinned, showing crooked yellowed teeth with several gaps as he grabbed an offered clump of algae, holding it up as he waved his saber with his other hand. "Swords out boys, let's see if this baby dungeon has any teeth, eh?"


Shaggy and Scooby slowly followed Fatty, apprehensively staring around at the very close walls - with trees of coral with sharp thorns and edges just out of reach. The dungeon had to hand it to Fatty, faced with a path only one man wide, he went first, even when wide enough he certainly received scratches from the sharp thorns.


He felt kind of bad, he hadn't designed his dungeon with people of the more… Big boned bodies in mind. He wanted to be an inclusive dungeon, but he supposed for now it was good, since this fatty actually wanted to kill him.


There was a gurgled yelp and many dozens of plings as thorns fired off by the side of Scooby, practically shredding the man's throat, as well as leaving gouges in his skin with thorns stuck in his sides. The plings coming from the thorns that missed, hit the strong as steel walls of the pathway with a plinking sound.


The dungeon lost awareness of the other two for a moment as the body broke down into motes of light. The feeling was… orgasmic. His mind losing concentration. The Mana he received, while not a great amount, was potent, much more potent than regular Mana. He brought his mind back to focus with great difficulty, understanding why dungeons craved killing. It not only made them more powerful and no doubt the potent Mana was more effective when building dungeon monsters if he were to wager… It also felt amazing and he could easily see getting addicted to that sort of thing.


Addiction was bad. He did not want.


What he found didn't really surprise him, Shaggy was also dead. But he hadn't been absorbed as his feet weren't touching the ground. Fatty was using him as a human shield - and he had to give it to Fatty, he had an excellent sense of danger. He was managing to swerve around and protect himself with his Shaggy shield everytime the thorns fired off. Of course being of a more… Round size. He did receive some thorns, but nowhere fatal. He had some speed to him, considering he had to move before the thorns were even fired to have a chance to intercept them with his shield. And he was making too much progress. He was almost to the exit.


"Heh, you fail, baby dungeon!" The fat man laughed as he could see the exit. The dungeon wished fervently for a new path to arrive, blocking off the exit. Nothing was happening. The fat man kept laughing, tossing the body of his subordinate on the ground where it began to be absorbed. Standing by the exit, the saber pointed at the ceiling. "No mere animal mind can match me, eh? By the sea maidens spread legs I have bested you!"


The dungeon desperately tried not to puke or at least thinking of puking, as he didn't think dungeons could puke, trying to ignore the very nice- no, no it was not very nice, repress, repress - feeling of absorbing Shaggy. He somewhat managed to keep concentration, and sagged - or at least imagined sagging, with relief, as the walls grew over the exit. To the shock of the fat pirate. The maze part of the maze finally decided to come into play, took long enough, the dungeon thought, feeling a great sense of relief.


"What's this, eh?" The shocked captain poked at the sudden impenetrable wall in the way of the exit. "You can't do that! Dungeons can't do corrections on a floor while you're in it!" He shouted angrily, poking the wall harder.


He looked around. The algae in his hand was the only source of light. The dungeon could tell the moment he realized how many thorns he could see. The widened eyes and the swear forming on his lips, before the dungeon violently repressed the feelings he received. Letting out a mental breath of relief as he could feel control of the dungeon return to him. The chest and sacks by the stairwell also being absorbed now that there was no humans inside him. He thought of the three people that had come so close, well more one of them. And was shocked to realize he could feel memories. Knew things about countries he hadn't known existed before. Did he… absorb memories as well? Not fully it seemed as it was all a bit blurry and confusing. But he now knew a lot more than he had a minute ago.


Well, either way he really didn't want to get in the habit of eating people. It just… No. He'd rather not.


＊＊＊


Malorn, Royal palace.


The fork clanged loudly as it fell down onto the plate. Eyes were politely and nervously averted around the long dinner table as Princess Aryn stared daggers at her father King Malorn - the 24th of his name.


"Say that again Father. I dare you!" The golden eyes of the jewel of the kingdom of Malorn - were filled with an intense anger. Those that knew her well could see the immense hurt boiling inside. At the other side of the table Sir Rowen closed his eyes with a deep troubled sigh, forehead wrinkled. The most expression anyone had seen from him in a decade.


That's when a foreign prince had managed to fall off the wall, land on a rake, which pierced his bottom - the lad somehow surviving it to simply run into a cart carrying a supply of rakes, all of them spilling out, the prince running into them over and over until someone took pity and helped him. That day Sir Rowan's lips had quirked momentarily.


Jadrian Malorn the King of Malorn ran a hand through prematurely white, coiffed hair. Tired golden eyes with dark bags under them staring down his willful daughter. He'd been handsome once. Before his father had the nerve to die and force him into this position - he still pissed on his grave every year for that. He'd shielded Aryn as much as he could. He couldn't any longer.


"You will be married, six months from now." He said tiredly. He didn't even flinch as the butter knife went sailing past his ear and lodged half way into his long backed chair. The knife vibrating for a few moments as everyone pretended they'd seen nothing. They'd sold off all the ornate furniture during his grandfather's time, so some scratches and dings now would hardly make much of a difference on the bedraggled look of the palace. In Malorn, people and the land were more important then useless frippery. It was bred into them.


"You promised me. You promised I'd never be sold off!" Aryn hissed at him with shining eyes, tears held back no doubt to avoid making even more of a scene. It is after all why he'd broken the news in front of witnesses - less chance of regicide, he definitely wouldn't wish this throne on someone he loved. He sagged in his chair, broken promises only one of the few distasteful things he'd had to contend with to keep them safe. Maybe not well off, but they were alive and unharmed. For a given value of unharmed.


"You know why I need to break that promise, Aryn." He said firmly. She was already twenty. Any other father would have married her off years ago, certainly one in the position he was in. He had done everything he could to stave off the necessity to do this. His late wife had begged him not to before her death of the plague. Begged him to save their daughter from marrying into the line of their enemies. He'd be breaking the promise to her memory too. He could see Aryn composing herself, the initial storm, locked down. He sighed and waved to their loyal retainers and family members, "Leave us." A secondary reason for their presence had been to ensure the rumors would spread fast, and everyone would know to not anger Aryn in the next few weeks to months.


Poor they might be, but they were awash in loyal and leal men and women. The room was cleared in minutes with mumbled respects and soon the large oaken double doors closed, with a ring of finality in them. Sir Rowen the last one out, wrinkle still in his forehead. Aryn finally let tears fall as she grasped her red dress in a white knuckled grip. Jadrian could feel his heart breaking as he walked over and pulled her into his arms. No doubt soon she would rage and hate him again, and he would deserve it. He held onto her like it was the last time. His own tears running down his short beard and onto her head.


For once he hated this damn country and the necessity to keep sacrificing so much to keep their people safe.


If only they had a dungeon like their enemies did, something to kick life into these desolate lands again.


＊＊＊

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

This was probably the first thing I began writing back when I first started to poke around a bit.


A Uzushio revival story, at this point more of a short story as I'll probably not continue it anytime soon.


Perhaps some of you will enjoy it at least, or perhaps even take it over if it takes anyone's fancy.


Fair warning - it's 26k long.


Enjoy!


＊＊＊


Reincarnation was not something he had ever believed in. Which made it all the more ironic that he of all people had been reincarnated. Not only did he get a second life, but he had been born in the world of Naruto. An amusing anime he had once watched for a while due to its new and interesting concepts.


How he wished he had been born to a world the anime had described. A mostly peaceful village, at least for a time… A benevolent dictatorship that seemed for the most part able to protect its citizens. He had only followed the anime until the time skip, losing interest soon thereafter, but despite an invasion from Orochimaru, Konoha hadn't seemed that bad.


Now, hours away from his home's destruction, he didn't feel as wistful of Konoha. Their allies were a no-show as the forces of Kiri, Iwa and Kumo were all descending on his home. Uzushiogakure.


Having been born just a couple of years after the end of the first war, as the son of the first Uzukage, called such although he wasn't so recognized in the elemental nations due to Uzushio's smaller stature. He had been a determined and devoted child, desperate to grow stronger.


He didn't know what fate Uzushio suffered, other than that the only Uzumaki mentioned in the anime was Naruto, jinchuuriki of the Kyuubi, living alone in Konoha. A Konoha that had the Uzumaki swirl on their flak vests. He'd known that his village no longer existed at that point. He had hoped he'd have more time. That at least they had lasted until the third Shinobi war. Maybe by then he'd have been able to put more in place.


More protection for his beautiful home. The white watchtowers that overlooked the ocean where he had spent so much time as a child, gleefully watching the orcas, the summons of one of their clans protecting their coast and playing in the water to amuse the children.


The eternal gardens, crafted by clansmen to be living art, sealed into its forms forever, an entire garden of artform in flora, a truly wondrous sight. The giant trees criss-crossing Uzushio, its branches another highway for their Shinobi, a gift from the Shodai Hokage upon marrying Mito Uzumaki to solidify their alliance.


The canals that flowed through their village, bringing the smell of the ocean, the sound of the waves all over Uzushio, water in their souls, the ocean the bringer of life for which Uzushio came from. All for naught now.


Konoha wasn't coming. All his plans except for the last resort were in too early stages to truly protect them. He was only 16, his father willing to humor his son had allowed some of his ideas to be put into motion. Allowed him to occupy several of their seal masters despite how needed they were for other work. He had thought he still had years... He couldn't imagine that Uzushiogakure would be destroyed when little Kushina had just been sent to Konoha, still a likely two decades away from having Naruto.


And now here he stood. On the first watch tower of Uzushio's coast. His sensing ability was strong enough he could feel the raging storm of chakra signatures coming towards them. Iwa and Kumo from the north and west, Kiri from the east and south. The chaotic signature of Jinchuuriki amongst them. One village they could repel. Two they could survive perhaps, while heavily diminished. Three was the end of the Uzumaki as they knew it.


"It's my fault." He croaked out, tears falling down tanned sunny skin, red hair plastered to his face from the water that fell from the sky as if already mourning Uzushio.


A large hand fell heavily on his shoulder. Squeezing it. "No, this couldn't have been predicted, son, as Uzukage, the blame for not protecting our people falls on me. " The weary voice of his father failed to absolve him of his own failure. He shook his head mutely, staring in horror at the horizon. The death that came for them. And for what? For what purpose?


Uzushiogakure had not been an offensive threat to any of the other villages. They simply defended themselves, their alliance to Konoha similarly was one of trade and defense. If no one attacked, Uzushio wasn't liable to cause any harm to any of them, other than perhaps in providing seals for Konoha. Even then none of the seals given to Konoha held a candle to real Uzushio seal work.


Uzushiogakure were protectors! Artisans! They didn't take on the kind of dirty missions the other villages did. They protected, built, crafted. What justice was there in being doomed to be destroyed because you didn't sink to the same evil the rest of the world did? What had happened to Hashirama's vision!


"If only Konoha would come!" He cried out, "Father why wouldn't they come! Why are they leaving us to die!?" The Konoha he had seen in his previous life had not seemed such a bad place. Loyal to their friends and preaching team work, how could they abandon their allies? Growing up on stories of Hashirama, of the peace loving Senju - feeling the soothing chakra in the mokuton crafted trees in Uzushio, he couldn't even imagine how Konoha would betray their loyalty like this. Had they not supported Konoha since their inception, had they not given them their princess Mito-sama, had they not sacrificed little Kushina-chan for their alliance? Why? Why were they not coming?


Uzumaki Arashi, his father and Kage, sighed heavily, stroking his graying red beard, a nervous habit of his that he had always teased his father about before. Now it just felt… Sad. That his last moments with his father would be more ingrained in his mind than all the habits and traditions they shared together.


"Even with your last resort leaving us less forces to defend with, by saving them instead, we still stand strong enough, especially with your diligent work on traps and Ninjutsu seals." His father mused out loud.


The waves crashing into their island sounded like wailing cries, as if even the seas cried for their coming passing.


"While we are lost to this force, we will no doubt make them pay a heavy toll, perhaps as much as ten of theirs for each of us. Perhaps Konoha see's a chance to gain an advantage in this second war at our expense, weakening their enemies enough they'd be forced to accept a peace treaty, or weakened enough Konoha can defeat them and dictate terms. With Senju Tobirama dead and Sarutobi Hokage, there is no more Senju loyalty, who knows what the new Hokage is thinking…" The Uzukage didn't even sound upset as he explained the logic behind their destruction.


As if a non-senju being Hokage for the last almost two decades would suddenly invalidate our alliance, the Senju had diminished under Sarutobi, but surely Uzushiogakure were still of worth to the leaf.


"I can't accept that, my whole life I have worked for Uzushio to survive, I won't accept that!"


Arashi smiled proudly, even as his eyes drowned in regret, drawing his son into a hug. "And thanks to you, Uzushio will live on, my son. Do not despair, you have saved us. We, the older generation, will go to war, proud and happy in facing death, knowing you all will be safe. That Uzushio will never die."


"You'll die…" he whispered into his father's chest. This second life, this amazing village and family he had received, this amazing man who had taught him more then a lifetime had taught him before. It wasn't fair! They didn't deserve this!


"Kaido… You are everything a father could want for a son. I love you, don't ever forget that, do not mourn me too harshly, You are the heart of the storm, you have the soul of the ocean." The Uzukage repeated what he had told him since he was a small child, before gently pushing him away, laying a hand on his heart, tears in his eyes even as he smiled proudly. " Take care of our people Uzumaki Kaido, Niidaime Uzukage-Sama." He turned away, his chakra violently churning with emotion. "ANBU take him to the vault."


Kaido couldn't even speak as he was rushed to the underground vault - whose creation had taken him the last 4 years and several seal masters to perfect. A last resort, a way to preserve Uzushio in the worst case scenario.


Their culture, their knowledge, their people. Once the vault was sealed, it would be its own pocket dimension for a decade, unseen and unapproachable by anyone else. Even other Uzumaki… Even with how hard they had worked though, the vault only had enough space for a third of the shinobi population of Uzushio. While managing to save half of the civilian population. Maybe all the Shinobi could have been saved, if Uzushio was such a cruel place as to sacrifice its entire civilian population.


As it was, the clans of Uzushio sealed their knowledge in the vault together with its children and a few adults for each clan to raise and teach said children and youths. The rest of the older generation would fight for every inch of Uzushio and make their enemies bleed. Even when the enemies eventually won, there wouldn't be any substantial loot for the bastards, Uzushio's secrets lost to them. Ready to rise from the ashes and rebirth their village.


As Kaido was dropped off to the vault, he stumbled inside full of tears, shame and guilt. He had future knowledge, Kami, why couldn't he have prevented this? If only he had started a few years earlier!


The vault began its sealing off sequence. The last of the Uzumaki seal masters were all safe in the vault, their expertise needed to keep their location secure for the decade, needed to teach them all, needed to secure the new Uzushio once they all came back. They had ten years to train, to work together, to prepare for their return - to never let Uzushio die. As he could feel the warping of chakra preparing to seal them off, his chakra sense could feel the first echoes of battle as the three major villages hit the shores of Uzushio.


"You will all pay…" he swore, before the last of Uzushio disappeared from the elemental nations.


＊＊＊


Unknown to the survivors, several days later, thousands of Shinobi lay dead, each of Iwa, Kumo and Kiri, having lost a jinchuuriki as well as Kumo losing the second Raikage to the wrath of the Uzukage.


The temporary alliance left the ruins of Uzushiogakure, dissatisfied at finding nothing but blood, basic trinkets style seals and whatever weapons and seal work they could loot of the bodies of the dead. Hardly worth the thousands dead and the loss of a kage and 3 jinchuuriki.


While the second shinobi war would rage still for several years, this loss of forces would let Konoha take advantage of the weakened villages to force an eventual peace. The loss of forces suffered by the allied villages making Kiri withdraw and Iwa and Kumo together be at a level playing field with Konoha, even Suna joining in to attack both Konoha and Iwa didn't change the war effort, the God of Shinobi and the soon named Sannin turning the tide in Konoha's favor.


As Uzumaki Kushina cried herself to sleep in her new village with her new status as a prison and human sacrifice. Konoha celebrated their victory, applying the Uzumaki swirl to their uniforms to honor their fallen "allies". No more words were spoken of Uzushiogakure, Konoha practically wiping out history in their academy, the Hokage burying their duplicity whether through shame or practicality.


Maybe if Tobirama had lived, Uzushio wouldn't have fallen. No one would ever know, Sarurobi Hiruzen would soon be labeled the god of Shinobi as Uzushiogakure's sacrifice allowed Konoha to win as a lone village against several enemies. Solidifying their reputation as the strongest village and Sarurobi's reputation as the strongest Kage. Whether by design or not, the Senju slowly eroded, disappearing completely from Konoha except for the lone Senju Princess Tsunade. To the world, Senju and Uzumaki were both practically extinct.


For the first few years many would attempt to pillage the bones of Uzushio, until the traps, the unpredictable whirlpools and storms and the lack of loot ended the practice for even the most reckless of hunters. Uzushiogakure quickly fell to the annals of history, no one paying any more attention to the island or its ruins.


Which is why no one noticed when after ten years exactly after the invasion, a portal swirled into being by the remains of what once was the Uzukage tower in the center of Uzushiogakure.


"Ten years… Let's begin." Uzumaki Kaido said, the sadness in his heart was only beaten by the absolute rage he felt, as he looked out over the ruins of his home, the bones of the fallen laying there like trash.


Behind him Shinobi rushed out, seal masters and their escorts all quickly heading to all corners of the island and Uzushio itself. To plant seals to hold up the illusion that Uzushio was gone, and to draw the whirlpools and storms around their home country into attacking anyone that approached the island.


Let them think a vengeful god or spirit is protecting the ruins - they'd find something much worse when Kaido was ready. Uzushiogakure would not rest, would not grow complacent, would not depend on allies. They would never again be destroyed, never again broken. This time, their enemies would feel it. The Uzumaki were back.


"The Storm is coming for you" Kaido promised with gritted teeth as his people continued to pass him by, entering the hellscape that was their home, that contained their families and clans remains. "And there will be no mercy." He no longer cared about that silly anime he had once watched. Uzushiogakure was his home. He would not allow anyone to ever threaten it again, and if Konoha got in his way…. He'd destroy them.


＊＊＊


The first few days were hard on them all. The Shinobi sent out to search the island to find if any civilian settlements existed or perhaps surviving farming communities, had it easy comparatively. They simply had to search for if there was pre-existing infrastructure or people for providing food from the land to Uzushiogakure still around.


The people that remained had to deal with going through the remains of their people... No demolition or rebuilding could be done while their people's bones were spread around the village. Nor would anyone be willing to work on such a thing before they had paid proper respect to their ancestors and buried their remains. Work that took a lot of man hours for their sensors, as no one was willing to bury enemy scum amongst the bones of their people.


Only their best sensors could still feel which bones were native to Uzushiogakure, of which he himself was one of the best. His protection detail was not pleased at him walking around the ruins and identifying remains, bodies could be trapped after all. Luckily being Uzukage meant no one could stop him.


It was emotional and painstaking work. Made even worse by the inability to find his father's signature on any of the remains. The fire of his rage was fed even more as he postulated that his father's body had been taken as some sort of war trophy... It took several days to gather up the remains of their fallen, done with utmost care - they would be burnt to ashes together in the presence of their people, their sons and daughters and a monument built to honor their sacrifice.


As for the enemy remains, they were deposited in storage scrolls, Kaido wouldn't let something useful be destroyed. Maybe one day he could return the bodies, raining them over their shit-stain villages…


The ceremony for their fallen lasted all night, the pyre kept burning as prayers were said, tears fell, and revenge was sworn. The ashes were collected and sealed inside an ocean coloured crystal basin right in the main square.


Several clan members with crystal release from the Tokoro clan, created it, ensuring it was hard enough to be almost impossible to destroy. Uzumaki seal masters further strengthened the structure. Flares of chakra could be felt by all the people standing outside the main square as the Tokoro beautifully crafted a Uzu kunoichi and Shinobi, standing back to back over the basin, ocean waves lapping at their feet, protectors of Uzushiogakure. All around the statue slabs of crystal came into being, rising up. The light shimmering from the ocean blue crystal structures making the main square seem as if underwater.


Kaido stepped up to the first slab, head bowed in solemn prayer. "We will always honor them. The sacrifice they made. Their last stand to protect our home and our children. Forever they will stand here, watching over Uzushiogakure." He used chakra to project his voice to reach everyone. "Uzumaki Arashi… We remember you, rest in the safety of your people." As he spoke, his father's name was carved into the slab of shining crystal by the Tokoro clan member.


Kaido stepped back and waved his protection detail forward. Normally their identity would be hidden, but ten years together in a seal space made hidden identities pointless.


A purple haired kunoichi reverently touched the crystal slab, tears running down her face. "J-Junichu Tochiro… Junichu Inoko. I will always remember." As the names were carved the people of Uzushio watched in solemn silence, as one by one, the survivors immortalized their fallen family and comrades.


Only those out protecting their coasts and searching the island were missing, they'd all get to perform the same ritual upon returning. Kaido would make sure the space had greenery and benches and fountains to give the space some life, the monument being raised in front of the Uzukage tower and in the main square - making sure that one day, once Uzushiogakure had foreigners traveling to it's soil for trade again, that no one could ever miss the monument or its meaning. That no one could ever forget what three monstrous villages had done on this soil.


It took well into the morning before every name was carved, Kaido didn't move for a single moment, watching and listening as his people cried and mourned their relatives and comrades like that night ten years ago. Feeling their hearts settle just a little bit, to have their ashes laid to rest, their names forever remembered.


He was bullied into a small nap by his guards at that point, he had so much that needed doing, sleep was not something he could afford to spend a lot of time on. His guards disagreed vehemently and he negotiated down to 4 hours of sleep before returning to work. They had a lot of resources to gather if they were to live and rebuild.


＊＊＊


Thanks to storage scrolls they did have a large amount of equipment and supplies available. They wouldn't live well until farms and fishing could be set up properly, but they wouldn't starve either. The biggest problem lay in materials… They'd recover some in the demolition of most of the village, being able to repurpose some of the materials - however it wouldn't be enough to rebuild an entire village on its own.


Ten years was a lot of time, and they had been very motivated to design a village that would be pure murder on any invaders - while still having the Uzushio aesthetic and cultural significance attached. Demolition of all standing structures would be necessary for the rebuild, especially as his Shinobi created tunnels deep under the village for emergency evacuation, as well as storage vaults, and quick response avenues for ANBU. It would be slow going as earth nature was one of those which his Shinobi had the fewest of. Water and Wind being the more common one, with lightning next, followed by fire and earth.


Kaido sat in a tent just off the main square, receiving constant reports on the demolition as well as the process of setting up a tent village for the population for now. Getting reports on the work the seal masters were performing on the coast, as well as reports on the survey of the island.


They wouldn't be able to get things done without gaining some method of getting building materials from the mainland. Unfortunately, although they had a small segment of Senju who had been married to Uzushio citizens, enough to have a Senju clan in Uzushio now, none of them had the mokuton skill. Which would have been damn helpful right about now… He thought irritability.


They were helpful in digging out the planned tunnel and cave system deep underground - as they for the most part did have an earth affinity. And their loyalty had been appreciated, Konoha's betrayal having made the Senju swear loyalty to Uzushiogakure as they had been equally horrified by the betrayal. With the death of both Hashirama and Tobirama, their loyalty to Konoha had been shaky to begin with as they intermingled with Uzushio. When the betrayal and invasion came, the Senju as well as the Yamanaka, who had 9 people of the clan in Uzushio, had been allowed into the safety of the vault, dependent on an oath of loyalty. One they had no problem swearing, absolutely dismayed that Konoha would leave them and their ally to die.


Of course Kaido didn't just trust their word for it. Each of them had accepted a seal on their bodies that prevented betrayal - A seal that eventually had been applied to every member of Uzushio including the civilians. No one wanted any chance of failure, any weak point exploited, anyone tortured to expose them. Kaido had reluctantly agreed in the end, having felt the foreigners seal was for safety, but that inking the entire of his village to a loyalty seal was a step too far. In the end, he was talked into it, his inner circle arguing that all steps to protect themselves were needed. That betrayal could not happen, that it would possibly destroy them before they were ready.


The seal was the only reason he was thinking of deploying Shinobi to the mainland. If captured and tortured, they could not reveal anything about Uzushio. It's unlikely any of the other villages would be able to undo the seal work, and in the worst case scenario, if captured, the Shinobi would be able to use the seal to self-destruct.


He stopped hesitating, and glanced to the corner of his tent where one of his ever present guards was invisible, using her water affinity to completely refract light and gain almost perfect invisibility. It only showed a slight shimmer at high speed movement, otherwise it was almost impossible to detect. "Get me Yamanaka Hattori and Senju Tokara." He ordered calmly.


Only due to his chakra sensing could he sense the woman acknowledging the order and disappearing out of the tent. He smiled lightly, oh he couldn't wait until the other villages got a taste of that jutsu, fearing constant assassination from the Uzushio Shinobi would serve them all right. Not that they were really in the assassination business. Not for contracts anyway, village safety was another thing.


Within minutes the requested Shinobi arrived and kneeled before him with a quiet and respectful, "Uzukage-Sama" being uttered.


Yamanaka Hattori was a man in his early forties, the oldest of the Yamanaka in Uzushio. Tall and lanky, his blonde hair cropped short, he had turquoise eyes with deep bags under them. The man had managed to father 6 children during their ten years of hiding, so it really was the man's own fault that he now looked constantly sleepless.


Senju Tokara was his complete opposite, short and slim with dark hair, mischievous eyes and a boisterous personality. Only 17 she was a competent Jounin, if somewhat childish in contrast to Hattori's quiet professional attitude. She had a very strong fire affinity which would work well with Hattori's well developed wind affinity.


"We need information. We're ten years out of date. We don't know if the nations are still at war, who's fighting who, and what the threats facing us could be. To add to that, we can't rebuild properly without being able to buy materials. We have the resources to buy, but we can't afford to draw attention to ourselves." Kaido explained the background of what their mission would be, taking in Hattori's quiet acceptance and Tokara's bouncing eagerness.


"Hattori you're familiar with the land of Fire, and Tokara has the looks and feel of a native. I need you both to go into the land of Fire, remaining undetected - and scope out the situation. If possible, travel to the capital and negotiate trade with the merchants there. I will leave it up to you Hattori, in making up a cover that will stand scrutiny."


Hattori pursed his lips, "If we remain within the civilian sphere, we should be able to remain undetected. However if there is a war going on there will likely be Konoha Shinobi in a greater number even in the civilian cities. What are our orders if we attract their attention?"


Tokara mock punched the air sending off a jab and then another, bouncing on her feet. "Easy old man, we give them the one, two, just pow!"


Kaido chuckled, "It is good to see you're eager Tokara. In essence you are right." Kaido turned to Hattori, expression closing off as he knew the order he was about to give was likely painful for the former Konoha Shinobi. "Konoha can not know we have returned. If at any point Konoha Shinobi tries to detain you - they must die."


While the loyalty seal prevented things like releasing information about Uzushio or betraying or sabotaging the village. It didn't force anyone to obey every word out of their Kage's mouth. Tokara was only 7 when Uzushio died, she hardly had any memories of Konoha at all. Hattori on the other hand spent most of his life there before marrying a Uzushio civilian he met while on a diplomatic posting to Uzushio.


Hattori bowed his head solemnly, "If it becomes necessary I shall do so Uzukage-Sama. You do not have to worry, my family is Uzushiogakure through and through, I will not hesitate."


Kaido nodded with a fleeting smile, "I know you'll both do Uzushiogakure proud. Mito will give you the rest of the mission details at the administration tent." Uzumaki Mito, perhaps living under unfair pressure to live up to her namesake, was one of the more skilled Shinobi in the village, and most trusted.


She was running the administration as well as being the Uzumaki clan head in Kaido's stead due to his Kage position. All this at the age of 24. Sadly she was part of the older third of the Uzumaki alive, if one discounted the seal masters who's fanatic devotion to their art made them unsuitable to such a thing as being a clan head. Over half the Uzumaki left had been small children when the invasion happened.


Kaido and Mito were both excellent combat fuinjutsu users, but they paled in comparison to the knowledge and skills of the true masters of the art. They were the reason Uzushiogakure had been able to hide their survivors for ten years, they were the reason they'd still be able to hide now, giving them time to rebuild. Their seals whipped up the storms and oceans around Uzushio, their seals created the illusion of a remaining ruined village.


These were the masters that had, at the end of the warring clans era, in the birth of the Shinobi villages, created the legendary weapons of Kiri's seven swordsmen. Something that had made Kiri's betrayal hurt all the more.


How many of their people had fallen to the legendary weapons their seal masters had innovated? One day there would be a reckoning Kaido swore, but now, there was no time for thoughts on revenge. He had reports of arable farm land to read, updates on the building of fishing boats, the demolition of the village, the digging of tunnels and a thousand other things. If he didn't have shadow clones he'd probably be buried with no way out and no time to make decisions on everything. Their tiny administration was not enough to take over any of the drudge paperwork, having enough to do with just keeping everyone fed and healthy and writing up missions. Mostly C and D rank at this point.


It would be months before even a basic infrastructure was built, no one willing to rush the build or the seal work. Everyone making sure that any future invasion would be entirely thwarted.


"Wait… did the paperwork triple?" Kaido looked suspiciously at his pile of paperwork that had seemed to have procreated without anyone entering the tent. He groaned, "Why anyone would willingly choose to be a Kage escapes me." He muttered, reaching for the next report.


＊＊＊


2 weeks later


Kaido thrummed his fingers on the table, waiting for the last of his inner circle to arrive. The tent was barely large enough to fit them all. Not at all appropriate for a clan head meeting, nor a war council. They had to make due with what they had, however - at least some of his subordinates had found a decent rug and a table large enough for the meeting. He'd feel ridiculous as a Kage if he couldn't even seat everyone.


"Late as always." Senju Hikama muttered shaking his head, the Senju clan head, one of the oldest in the village at 44 scratched his scarred face, dark eyes sharp, with a face only a mother could love - with his nose showing the signs of having been broken and healed incorrectly several times. His clan was one of the smallest in the village with only 58 people in it. 38 of those born in the last decade.


"You're just impatient cuz you're so old, Hikama." Yamanaka Inohana mocked teasingly. The 25 year old was the prodigy of the new Yamanaka clan, Uzushio style. Taking over the clan head position from a relieved Hattori, who had too many children to take care of to want to also deal with politics and paperwork.


The beautiful Yamanaka kept her blond hair in a sensible braid, poisoned senbon placed throughout, she also wore a set of coloured beads in Uzushio tradition when not on a mission, the other popular accessory being actual sea shells in their hair. Her cute face hid extremely intelligent turquoise eyes and a devious mind.


Even with Hattori's efforts the Yamanaka were the smallest clan in Uzushiogakure with 28 members, 19 of those being under ten years old. Even though the clan was small, Inohana was probably one of the top 5 Shinobi in the village when it came to deadliness.


"Brat," Hikama, said long sufferingly. "Show some respect in front of the Uzukage."


Inohana winked at Kaido with a teasing grin, "Uzukage-Sama likes me more than you, Hikama, that's why I can have fun, and you sit there with a frown all the time. Dontcha know your face can get stuck like that?" She finished, feigning concern.


"Uzukage-Sama just finished puberty, I'm sure it's not your shining personality he was so attached to Inohana." Uzumaki Mito said dryly, although her lips twitched slightly as her eyes shifted to Kaido. She made a cupping motion in front of her chest with a raised eyebrow, making Inohana give out a tinkling laugh.


Inohana was without a doubt not only the most beautiful kunoichi in the village but the curviest as well. And she knew it and loved using her womanly wiles against everyone in her sight. Kaido had spent several years a blushing stuttering mess to Inohana's and Mito's delight.


Kaido covered his face with his hands. "This is why Kage do not grow up around their advisors. For Kami's sake, Mito, I'm 26."


"Of course Uzukage-Sama." Mito said innocently. Mito had the customary red hair of the Uzumak, messily made into a haphazard bun, hair sticking out everywhere, she also wore beads interwoven in her hair as most Uzushio women did. She had a lithe 'differently sized' build that made her look younger then her age. Kaido did not use the word short or small, never those words. Not even in his mind.


The Uzumaki were the second largest clan with 206 members. They would have been the largest, except they'd also have had the largest number of members that stayed behind to fight. They'd once had triple the number of members, Uzushiogakure being primarily an Uzumaki village.


"And this is why people should be on time for meetings, to avoid these talks." Tokoro Mamoru, the clan head of the crystal release clan, spoke up, leaning his chin in his hands. The young man, only 22, still managed to be one of the oldest of his clan left alive. The Tokoro had never been particularly plentiful, only 26 of them had gone into the vault, the baby making in preparation for the future the reason for the larger size of the clan now. He had silver hair that he for some inexplicable reason kept in a ridiculous man bun hairdo, a hawk-like nose and equally sharp brown eyes. He led a clan with 82 members.


They'd all had been forced to limit some of the amount of babies made due to size constraints in the pocket dimension, or they'd all likely have even more children.


"You know you love me, Mamoru-kun." Inohana giggled, "I bring some class to the table."


"I think you have a different definition of class then the rest of us." Hikama muttered, earning an agreeing nod from Mamoru and a pout from Inohana.


Kaido sighed irritatedly and glanced towards his Jounin commander who had kept silent during the light teasing going on. "Well, Shinji, any idea when your clan head will grace us with his presence?"


Kawigaza Shinji was a mountain of a man, with short blueish dark hair and almost seven feet tall and all muscle. A taijutsu and kenjutsu beast that terrified lesser Shinobi with ease with his stature, scarred face and cold green eyes. It was hard to imagine that this demon of a fighter held a keen strategic mind and excellence in logistics and subterfuge. The Kawigaza clan was special in the way that there wasn't really anything special about them.


"I'm not his keeper, Kaido-Sama." He rumbled, lips pinched, his clan head was always causing the Jounin commander stress. The whole Kawigaza was really, it took a special kind of dysfunction when the Uzumaki clan wasn't the largest troublemakers in the village.


Back when Uzushiogakure first was built - which really, screw you Konoha - Uzushio were first! Just because they didn't draw in a dozen clans didn't make the village lesser!


The Uzumaki had lived in Uzushio for generations already, turned from just a clan compound to an actual village with civilians and clans a generation before Hashirama. Never recognized as such due to their focus on crafting and being artisans, instead of assassin's and butchers.


Much of the vaunted landmarks in the capitals across the elemental nations were once built by Uzushio shinobi. Of course because of this they weren't considered a proper village until after Konoha was built. Absolutely ridiculous, but such was the power of Hashirama's charisma. The world just agreed he did it first because who would argue with him?


Around the time Hashirama and Madara began making googly eyes at each other, Uzushio had already begun training civilians wanting to be Shinobi, refugees and clan less ronin or Shinobi wanting a proper home. Still the clan mindset had been strong. And thus the creation of the Kawigaza clan.


Lumping all the ronin, civilians and clan-less Shinobi into one clan together for safety and shared concerns - although eventually the practice stopped and there were now hundreds of clanless Shinobi in Uzushio, born to civilians but joining the academy and becoming Shinobi.


Still the Kawigaza clan - although with no bloodline to set them apart - had kenjutsu traditions from the ronin, they had tricks and jutsu developed by their own members and taught only to their own members. Expertise in trapping, tracking, taijutsu and kenjutsu. Even some handy Genjutsu capable members.


Every new jutsu or technique one of their clans members created, was added to the whole and allowed to be learned by all members. The Kawigaza were the largest clan now by far, with over 300 members, they tended to plateau at Chuunin or tokebetsu Jounin however. Their few Jounin though, tended to be monstrous, Like Shinji, and the still absent clan head.


Shinji currently was the only person in the village who could possibly take Kaido out if the circumstances were favorable to him and he had a bit of luck. There were several A-ranks amongst the survivors, including all the clan heads. Kaido, Mito and Shinji were the only S-ranks currently. And even then it was all in supposed skill, almost everyone in Uzushio now lacked combat experience. There was only so much you could perfect your skill in friendly spars instead of deadly combat.


Finally the tent flap was pushed aside and the last one called for their meeting arrived, Kawigaza Kitama. Short and bald with a small graying mustache, a round nose and beedy blue eyes, he looked comical next to the giant Shinji. Yet Kitama had led his clan for the last 4 decades, and while perhaps the weakest of all assembled due to reduced abilities because of his age, nearing his sixties - he had what they all lacked. Experience. Of helping to run a village, a clan, fighting in a war. All of it.


"Thank you for joining us so promptly, Kitama." Kaido said sternly, the older man just squinting at him with a frown. "We have assembled to discuss the situation in the elemental nations as reported to me by Yamanaka Hattori's first report."


"Aww, I missed the dove summons arriving, they're so cute, totally not appropriate summons for uncle Hattori. He should pass them on to me already." Inohana complained, laying her head down on her arms, sinking down onto the table with a dreamy sigh.


"So who's at war with who?" Kitama scoffed, groaning as he slid into a chair. "Never get old, it's not worth it." He muttered, as he usually did. And as usual, they all ignored it, Kitama was an obsessive complainer.


"Konoha against everyone apparently." Kaido said, feeling somewhat bemused. Because really, what were they doing? Had their leadership all gone mad?


"Of course they are." Kitama grumbled. Mito and Inohana shared a wide eyed look, both surprised, while Kaido could see that Hikama and Shinji's minds were working fast. Mamoru was mumbling to himself, mostly expletives.


"Even Konoha can't survive that. You're leaving something out." Shinji said, crossing his arms. "Konoha does not have the ability to survive all the major villages attacking them."


Kaido nodded slightly, "It is a strange kind of war. Iwa and Kumo both fight Konoha, but aren't exactly happy allies. Suna is fighting Iwa, but is also skirmishing along the border with Konoha, although full war there hasn't arrived as they are both fighting Iwa and Suna doubtlessly prefers Konoha waste manpower on killing Iwa nin."


"You didn't mention Kiri." Mito pointed out, looking disturbed at the current state of affairs.


"Kiri's apparently being…Weird." Kaido paused for a moment, having made no headway of what's going on with their closest adversary. "They have attacked both Konoha and Iwa, as well as had run-ins with several minor villages. Yet there are also reports of different Kiri teams fighting each other, no one on any side seems to know what Kiri is going to do next."


"That's good for us, but also makes it imperative we do not get found out. Or Kiri will focus entirely on us as they aren't completely embroiled in the mainland." Hikama said sourly. Any mention of Kiri usually brought out bad feelings with all of them, for good reason.


Fellow daughters and sons of the sea, and they had betrayed them…


"Although war is bad for the nations, it is actually good for us. This general confusion and war between all major villages will help hide our movements." Mamoru pointed out.


Inohana wrinkled her nose, "Or really bad for us, because everyone will be paranoid as hell, and we'll have a hard time moving around without attracting attention and losing Shinobi, no matter where we operate, they will think us the enemy infiltrating their land."


Mito rubbed her forehead, "What is Sarutobi doing!? How has he fucked up this badly!" She exclaimed with pure frustration. Konoha might have betrayed them, but they had been a sister village, they still held some feelings for the village. Or the ideal of it they had believed in.


Kaido's face grew dark, as he tried to find the words for the rest of the disgusting report. "Sarutobi has done a lot worse than embroiling Konoha in a continent-wide war." He growled furiously.


The ambient chakra in the tent grew cold as all his comrades, his friends, prepared themselves for what could possibly be worse than an all out existential war.


"The Senju are practically extinct." Kaido said bluntly, soothing his churning chakra by force, as he felt the spike in Hikama's chakra and the disbelief and sorrow. Kaido bowed his head slightly to the Senju clan head, "I am sorry to be the bearer of this kind of news, but according to the report, only Senju Tsunade remains, and she has abandoned Konoha. For reasons unknown."


Or maybe she had simply caught on to the Senju eradication and left before her sensei did her in. Kaido didn't believe for a second that the Senju could fall so low without Sarutobi being involved.


"How…? Hashirama and Tobirama would come back from the grave and wring that monkey's neck if they knew! How could Sarutobi manage to get every Senju killed! At the very least when they dwindled he should have stuffed them into the clan compound and put round the clock ANBU on protection detail!" Kitama hissed out between clenched teeth, chakra almost visible in the air as the old man raged. The old man being the only one among them to have actually met both Hashirama and Tobirama other than Hikama.


"Tsunade-chan, I don't blame her for running away. To feel that you're the last, to have outlived everyone… How broken she must feel." Hikama said with horror, Inohana reaching over to squeeze the man's hand, turquoise eyes sympathetic, her empathic abilities no doubt feeling the deep pain in the now only Senju clan head.


"There is more…" Kaido spoke up reluctantly. Not missing how Shinji closed his eyes in reluctance and how Mito's chakra stilled in disbelief. The way Hikama, Mamoru and Kitama braced themselves and Inohana started sending out a soothing wave of chakra, leaking understanding, comfort and camaraderie.


"Konoha… Has betrayed Hashirama's vision completely." Kaido began, himself struggling with the bad news all around that Hattori and Tokara had found. "Hatake Sakumo, was found dead by his 5 year old son, having committed suicide, due to being frozen out, ridiculed and shamed by the entire village. The Hatake name now less then dirt in Konoha"


"Sakumo…" Kitama turns his head away, his voice filled with emotion, "What could he possibly have done to deserve that?"


"He didn't, you and I both knew the man, Kitama, he could not have been more of an exemplary Konoha Shinobi. The man should have been Hokage." Hikama gritted out between clenched teeth, having gone from grieving to furious.


Kaido gripped the table so hard his fingers cracked the wood, "He was shamed because he chose his teammates' lives over the mission!" He watched the absolute shock and rage in his subordinates eyes. "He did what any Konoha Shinobi following Hashirama's will would have done! The village that was born in hope for peace, and preached teamwork as the ultimate pathway - and Sarurobi allowed him to be pushed to suicide for saving his team's life!"


"That man needs to die." Kitama said flatly, hands in fists as Inohana worked overtime to keep everyone somewhat calm, the rage boiling under the surface.


"We can't." Shinji said simply, shaking his head. "Uzushio comes first." The way he clenched his monstrous fists showed that the man wished he could say otherwise.


Kaido nodded slowly, looking each of his subordinates in the eyes. Acknowledging their pain at feeling loss once again, this time the complete loss of the vision that had made them sister villages. "Uzushio comes first." He said seriously, "One day, there will be a reckoning, when we can stand on our own." He promised, removing his fingers from where they were indented into the wood.


"What about Tsunade?" Mito said after a few minutes of silence, as everyone came to terms with the new reality.


"What about her?" Kaido asked, feeling drained, to have his view of Konoha so further shattered, the feelings of his friends making it so much more real than just reading a report. The village he had once felt so attached to in another life showing it's true self, the reality so incredibly disappointing.


Hikama sat up straight, hope radiating from him, "Tsunade-chan thinks all the Senju and Uzumaki are dead! We could bring her here!"


Shinji immediately shook his head, "Our only hope for survival is to remain hidden for another minimum of five years, preferably ten. There is too much of a risk that she'll alert Konoha."


"She's one of us, she's Senju and Uzumaki!" Hikama protested fiercely, face drawn and fists shaking. Hearing about the death of the Senju had shaken the man hard.


Kitama sunk down in his chair, as if to hide from his friend, "We can't trust Konoha, not this new Monkey deviled Konoha, and that means we can't risk it." He said grimly. "It was bad enough they betrayed us, at least we could have still counted on them being, well, them. Teamwork and peace and all that, now it seems they want war with every comer, kill their own people for being loyal to their team, and drive even their strongest and loyal Shinobi out of the village. How can we trust them?"


Inohana gave Hikama a sympathetic look, "I would love to have Tsunade here, she's a role model for any kunoichi and she's family. Maybe in a few years." When it's safe, went unsaid.


Mamoru sighed, head resting on a fist, eyes closed. "I can't speak as to Tsunade, so I'll defer to whatever Uzukage-Sama decides."


Every eye turned to Mito who bit her lip, she shook her head, eyes a bit glossy, "We're not like Konoha, we're family. Tsunade is family - We should bring her here." She said softly, earning a thankful nod from Hikama.


Kaido thought it over. He knew what an absolute boon to the village the Sannin could be. Yet she'd also be a risk, not only in the possibility she'd turn them down and inform Konoha. Which by itself was very risky in the middle of the third war.


The fact Uzushio might at some point find themselves not on Konoha's side if they continue to devolve under Sarutobi was an issue. Tsunade might have left the village, but he doubted she'd be all that happy if Uzushio and Konoha ended up opponents. Yes, her medical knowledge was an amazing advantage, yet Uzushio intended to remain hidden for years more, perhaps once they were safer, once her skills could be useful, the risk would be worth it.


He sighed and gave Hikama an apologetic look, "I am sorry, but she is too much of a risk at this time. We can revisit after the village has been rebuilt and the defenses finalized."


Hikama gave a stiff nod. Kaido knew the older man would understand the logic of it, once his emotions had calmed down.


"To move things away from Konoha, somewhat… Hattori has managed to create several contracts in the capital for lumber, stone and building materials." Kaido could see the change in the room as everyone professionally put away their feelings from the emotional discussion and focused on business.


"He has remained undetected?" Shinji wanted to know. His eyes focused and sharp.


"He did several smaller contracts over a period of a week using different personas, contact information and methods of payment for each, to avoid drawing any attention from Konoha Shinobi." Kaido replied, "He believes he has so far avoided detection, but the pickup will be the answer to that most likely." Perhaps due to the war the Shinobi in the capital would be more focused on defending against attack or infiltration than anything else... Forces did tend to stretch thin in war.


"If Konoha has any brains, purchases of large amounts of building materials by any unknowns within the land of Fire would be tracked." Mamoru pointed out, frowning, no doubt thinking Konoha was more difficult to predict now that their every move was such an antithesis to the Konoha most of them had known or heard stories about.


If they had no problem getting rid of their own Shinobi, what was their policy on civilians? Would they torture and interrogate them? Sick Yamanaka's on them?


"If they don't have eyes on the pickup, they will in the future after it gets reported several large orders of building materials got picked up by storage scrolls." Mito pointed out dryly.


Shinji scratched his chin, "That won't be as much of an issue as you think, the mission requested a large enough amount to build half the village on its own, we can avoid the land of Fire for any other purchases in the near future." It would make things more difficult, but it would have never been very likely they could get all they needed from one location. The risk of discovery would be too great.


"Besides, my uncle is probably ordered to mind wipe everyone after purchase?" Inohana asked cheerily, seeing Shinji and Kaido both nodding, she continued, "So no tracks leading to us, if Konoha investigates it will seem like an inside job."


"If they're being mind wiped, why are we bothering to pay them in the first place, we could use those resources." Hikama asked tonelessly, having regained some equilibrium.


"We won't be like the others." Kaido said firmly. "We are protector's first and foremost. Yes, for safety reasons we will need to remove their memories of dealings with us. We will not leave them to lose their business by not paying them." Uzushiogakure had been different from the rest, although they now had to face reality and be more martial and defense conscious, they would not stoop to the level of villages like Kiri. And perhaps now… Konoha even.


"We can't afford to take the ideal of a protector too far, this is how we got destroyed in the first place." Kitama warned, playing devil's advocate as was his habit in council meetings.


Mito gave him an irritated look, "Kaido-Sama knows how to balance the needs of the village, aren't we already training every child to fight, building a village so focused on the defense a Bijuu would run away rather then approach our walls?" Perhaps an exaggeration as not much could stop a Bijuu, but if all went to plan they would be the hardest village in the elemental nations to attack or infiltrate.


"You don't need to defend me, Mito. Everyone here knows that we are all working for the same goal." Kaido chided his clan member.


Mito bowed her head deferentially but still held a stubborn look on her face and stared down Kitama until the older man rolled his eyes and looked away.


"The question is, should we move forward with these purchases as is? Or provide backup to Hattori in case of discovery." Kaido laid it out there. Although he was in every way a dictator whose word was law. He preferred to make decisions - when possible - through advice by his closest circle, to prevent getting stuck on only following one solution and never hearing any others.


"If they are discovered, any backup would just risk losing more Shinobi. If they aren't discovered then there isn't a need for backup." Shinji said laconically.


"My uncle appreciates your undying support." Inohana said with a roll of her eyes, "I know my uncle, I say they're fine as they are." She finished with a shrug and a bob of her head.


"No objections?" Kaido asked, seeing none he nodded to Shinji, "Send his summon back with approval to finish the mission, reiterate that worst case I'd rather have them back alive then the supplies." It would be a heavy blow, but they could not afford losses right now either.


"It will be done Uzukage-Sama." Shinji acknowledged.


"Let's pivot to our own circumstances, Shinji, what does our current forces stand at?" Kaido ordered, already knowing the numbers but needing to go over with his council how to improve their dire situation.


Shinji closed his eyes and sighed, leaning forward slightly, his chair creaking as he shifted his massive weight. "The good news is that the baby boom have ensured our future is looking brighter than a worse case scenario, if we can survive a decade and a half to two decades." He stated calmly.


"Yeah, everyone's been fucking like crazy, I can't tell you how many times I've walked in on some action." Inohana said cheekily, "Not alot of room in that seal space, eh Mito?" She smirked at the Uzumaki with mirth dancing in her eyes.


Mito blushed and sent an absolute death glare against the Yamanaka.


Kaido pinched his nose, feeling a headache oncoming, "I do not want to know, continue Shinji."


"Currently with clan Shinobi we stand at around 700 clan Shinobi, with over half of those being under 12 years of age and only counting as potential Shinobi. As for non clan Shinobi the number is slightly higher at around 800, again with the assumption that 40-50 percent of that number, those counting as children, will graduate to become Shinobi. Count in the estimate that perhaps 300-500 civilian children will pass the academy over the next decade and we land at a total around 2000 Shinobi within a decade and a half. That is if we avoid being discovered and don't lose people in large numbers to war."


"That's… Not enough." Kitama said tiredly. It would be more than Uzushio had during their destruction, but wouldn't match a major village.


"It's not half bad." Mamoru said, trying to be positive, "Better than what we are, and more kids will pop out during that time and some will certainly graduate early, so it will probably be a higher number."


"The major villages have peacetime forces of around 4000-5000 Shinobi. Counting all their career genin and paper ninja into the count." Shinji stated. "War always lower the numbers somewhat, but the major villages have always been able to fill numbers back up quickly due to their larger populations and number of clans."


"We can't be safe at 2000, and a decade and a half is the most optimistic outlook on how long we can remain hidden, based on the other villages being busy with war for probably another few years at least and then licking their wounds for another half decade to a decade." Kaido said seriously. "We need ideas on how to safely boost that number by at least 2000 Shinobi." Ideally the quality of their seals and protective measures meant that even while shorter on manpower then most of the five, they'd still be on a level playing field.


Inohana let out a breath, "Never an easy task." She whined a little bit, but her expression was thoughtful.


"Boosting our forces runs into the problem of how to have them gain experience while we're in hiding." Hikama pointed out, "It's all well to have 3000 or 4000 Shinobi, but if we're not running missions, how will we pay for them, equip them, blood them?"


"That's another thing we need to work out, yes. I know we all had tentative discussions on these things in the seal space, but now we need to actually come to a plan that can be implemented." Kaido said calmly, meeting the eyes of his closest advisors.


"Absorb another minor village." Kitama stated bluntly. "There is no other possible way to gain the amount of Shinobi you're thinking about."


"That is not an easy task, nor one well suited for staying hidden. A minor village disappearing will be noticed." Shinji said but noticeably, he did not disagree.


Inohana tilted her head making a humming sound, "You know, with the loyalty seal, it wouldn't be too hard to integrate another Shinobi force. Especially if the leadership could be convinced to come somewhat willingly."


"What village would give up their home that easily?" Mito scoffed, the one looking the most skeptical about the idea.


Inohana stuck her tongue out at Mito as Mamoru tapped his fingers on the table, speaking up, "It is not impossible that in this war one or several minor villages could find themselves on the brink of destruction and find the hidden nature of Uzushio a benefit, not to mention the sealing knowledge we possess that the major villages are willing to kill for."


"It's just as likely the fact that 3 major villages were willing to kill us for it is what will scare any minor village away from the risk of joining us." Hikama stated, but he looked thoughtful, "That said, if we could find out the status of some… Takigakure might have suffered mightily being allied to a Konoha that keeps drawing in enemies and not being able to protect an ally. For one we could point out that we were once an ally and Konoha did not protect us from invasion."


"Think smaller." Shinji said quietly, "Unless much has changed, Taki was not that far behind the major villages and also had a jinchuuriki. In all likelihood unless war has severely decimated them, they would outnumber us, and refuse to become subordinate to Uzukage-Sama."


"If we all believe that an attempt to draw in a minor village might be a worthwhile task to attempt, we'd first have to send out a lot more Shinobi on spying missions to find out the lay of the land in the actual Shinobi villages." Inohana said seriously. "This is not something possible without very good information and quickly. A minor village disappearing during war will have the major villages pointing fingers at each other, after the war it's more likely someone would actually investigate and follow the trail."


The meeting continued for hours and much was agreed on in the end. The minor villages would be spied on to ascertain if any would be able to be bribed or coerced into joining forces.


Incentives were laid out in future tax reforms for when the village was on its feet, to continue the baby boom among their Shinobi during a time where most of them wouldn't face deadly missions and had time at home. As for giving their Shinobi experience, it was reluctantly agreed to pose as a mercenary company, something mostly staffed by non clan Shinobi and Kawigaza clan members.


Bloodline abilities were too noticeable. They'd offer their services to minor villages plagued by the war, gaining experience without hopefully having too many losses - as well as using it to scope out the other minor villages. And lastly Yamanaka Inohana offered her services in infiltrating Konoha, to find out the status of Kushina, their Shinobi forces and the effects of the war on Konoha.


Dangerous times lay ahead. Uzushiogakure would stand strong.


＊＊＊


Two weeks later.


Hattori and Tokara had been successful in their mission and had returned without any Shinobi aware of their coming and going from the land of Fire.


This meant the construction could kick into high gear in the areas already demolished. The western corner of the village, having been demolished first, was the site that would be rebuilt first. The tunnel and cave system already finished underneath the district - allowing for the civilians and Shinobi to work together to build housing, and finally get some of their people out of their tents. The Shinobi were more adaptable, but for the civilians it was hard to not have their homes and businesses, now that they were back in Uzushio and could almost taste it.


As before, Kaido was on scene in kage bunshin form, the real him too busy with paperwork and security and mission concerns to be present and assist.


He was currently walking in the new canal system criss-crossing the western district, using his ability to form seals just by touch with his chakra to stabilize the canal and make it practically impossible to touch with Doton, either to move through, or to sabotage - hardening the rock immensely as well as blocking chakra usage through the stone.


The canals had once upon a time been their last line of defense, a water affinity being the strongest amongst much of Uzushio. So ready-made waterways throughout the village would ensure their Shinobi always had water for jutsu on hand. It had backfired when they had been invaded by Kiri Shinobi however. The only village where a water affinity was more common than Uzushio.


Ten years of working on the issue amongst others had led to an innovative seal. One Kaido applied every few meters in the canal - it was tied into the seal every citizen of Uzushiogakure had on their body, civilian and Shinobi alike.


The water flowing through these canals could only be manipulated by someone who's chakra was attached to the Uzushio seal. An invader would never again turn the ocean against them inside Uzushio. The seals were powered by natural chakra, taking it in and then releasing it again having been empowered by the short duration it held the mystical chakra. Tests had shown that taking in natural chakra without releasing it back would affect nature adversely - as well as risk the seals malfunctioning due to a saturation of nature chakra. It really was a genius seal, proving once again that the Uzumaki could do anything with a seal once they put their mind to it.


Once the canal was sealed he flared his chakra, and Shinobi at the coast destroyed the last foot of rock holding the ocean back from the tunnel that would funnel the water to the canal. Civilians and Shinobi alike cheered as the rushing ocean water filled the canal, Kaido lightly jumping up to end up standing on the water as it slowly settled into a slow lapping movement as the canal filled completely. He closed his eyes, taking in the familiar smell of salt water, the movement of the water against the walls of the canal. He could almost picture Uzushio whole, as it was back then.


He almost wished there were enemy infiltrators ready to try and use the ocean tunnel to sneak into Uzushio. The seals that would be placed at the mouth of the tunnel would incinerate anything living or even not living. (Thank you Tobirama for creating that creepy as fuck Edo tensei so even death wasn't final, you fucker!) Anything that was over the size of plankton would be destroyed entering the tunnel.


With a sigh the kage bunshin left the newly built waterway and headed to the coast. While the civilians mostly worked on the housing, he and his Shinobi had a more important task ahead, starting the build on the outer wall, and rebuilding the watch towers.


He felt great pride seeing homes being built, already the walls were being carved in the culture of their people, great reliefs of pods of whales, barrier reefs and frolicking dolphins, savage looking sharks and dancing crabs. Once painted it would feel like home again, wildly colorful, not a boring spot in sight, flags and colored strips of fabric flying from windows again, curtains of beads instead of doors leading into restaurants and bars, inviting and welcome.


He slowed down on his way to the location of the first section of the wall as he felt a speeding kunoichi come his way, chakra intent on interception.


"Report." He barked as she came into speaking distance, fearing bad news. Seeing the dusty and sweaty kunoichi showing signs of recent tears.


"Uzukage-Sama, it's the eternal gardens… Toriko-Sama requests your immediate presence."


At least it isn't an actual emergency situation then. He thought, feeling somewhat melancholy at the thought of the eternal gardens. A place where tourists from all over the elemental nations had flocked to, where Uzushio's artisans had created something extraordinary.


And it was all ruined in the invasion. The mokuton trees that had risen high above the village were all gone now, the craftsmanship of mokuton created art in the gardens - either stolen or desecrated. And there was no more Hashirama to return that splendor to them, it was lost forever.


"Lead me to Toriko." He spoke finally. A quick hand seal creating another clone to continue on towards the wall. They'd both have less chakra than ideal now, but worst case, the original could create more clones if he had to disperse.


The eternal garden lay to the south east, closer to the center of the village. It was a matter of a few minutes of shunshin to arrive at its entrance. Kaido waved off the kunoichi as he arrived, noting Uzumaki Toriko waiting at the entrance. The white haired seal master and artisan having been sent to take stock of the damages. Kaido was curious what would entail being called in instead of reading about it in a report.


"Tell me it's good news." He said without preamble as he walked up to the stocky Uzumaki.


Toriko's bushy eyebrows were drawn together as the man looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "Uzukage-Sama, for once I am glad to say it is good news!" The man was almost vibrating on the spot.


"What is it then?" Kaido asked, hope blossoming in his chest. Could something have survived of their heritage after all?


"It's better that I show you, Uzukage-Sama." Toriko said and immediately started walking into the gardens.


Kaido followed, somewhat annoyed at his subordinates' lack of explanations recently, but willing to let it be due to their excitement and hope in returning to their home. His mood darkened as he walked through burned and butchered sculptures, destroyed fountains and rubble.


His breath hitched as he walked by the destroyed glass waterfall, a beautiful piece of crafting and seal work that had created a multicolored festival of lights as water passed through the hovering glass panes - and creating beautiful haunting melodies through the glass wind chimes and beads that were woven throughout, striking different tones depending on the rush of water and the changes of weather.


A masterpiece created in the beginning of the gardens, in the then Uzumaki compound over 400 years ago. They had the knowledge to rebuild it, but would it ever be the same? The magic would be lost. He tore his head away from the broken glass pieces and the burned seals and followed after Toriko, towards the center of the gardens.


"We were looking for anything that survived, not having much luck to be honest." Toriko mumbled, shoulders hunched somewhat as the man stared solemnly back at the destroyed glass waterfall. He took a breath, then walked forward at a greater clip. "When we reached the center we thought it was all lost, it looked like the earth had exploded, been turned over and destroying everything."


"I gather that you found something." Kaido said tightly, walking in such destruction, inflamed his anger.


Toriko gestured to the large earth mound they were coming up to. Several Shinobi milling about looking teary eyed. "What we thought was upturned and exploded earth. Was a protective dome." He said, a slight hitch to his voice. "The center is still intact!"


Kaido almost stumbled, "What!?"


Toriko hastened his steps further, leading Kaido to a tunnel that had been painstakingly opened up, Kaido could feel it now that he was getting closer. That chakra signature. He took a deep breath. This was… Honestly incredible news. "Someone must have gone through some effort to make it seem like the site of battle instead of a means of protection." He said softly. One of their people had managed in the last - to protect one of their most important symbols.


"One of our people could do no less." Toriko said reverently, eyes on the centerpiece.


Kaido followed Toriko into the center of the dome. Taking a long deep breath. Feeling the chakra in the Hashirama trees surrounding the center piece. Their only surviving trees now. The soothing chakra in the trees were a balm on his soul. A reminder of home as it was, the trees were added some 40 years ago, but the centerpiece was centuries old.


A circular pool of crystal clear liquid, natural energy somehow collected into a liquid form, figured out from studying the seals - centuries old that was covering sides and bottoms of the pool - the birthplace of the art of sealing.


Crystal sheets from the Tokoro clan of old hovered around the pool, reflective as mirrors, ethereal light shining from them. In front of the pool stood a pedestal with a touch stone, the stone worn with time, yet never crumbling. This miracle that had been the centerpiece of the eternal gardens. An Uzumaki creation so amazing that even now hundreds of years later their seal masters couldn't create something comparable.


Toriko hung back respectfully as Kaido walked forward and with a shaking hand touched the touchstone. Immediately there was a hum in the air, a feeling like electricity passing through him. The pool lit up, the mirrors sinking down until their bottoms touched the liquid natural energy. The crystal showing swirling mist for a few moments until they changed. And Kaido could see his father. It was the two of them laughing and teasing as his father had been teaching him to fish, and he had been impatient, a youthful energetic brat. He snorted as he saw his younger self get his hair tousled and then unceremoniously shoved into the lake as his father laughed uproariously. Hearing his father's laugh again, his voice. His hand trembled on the touchstone. No greater gift had Uzushio received then for this to survive being despoiled by their enemies. He stepped away, the memories disappearing as the pool reset.


He turned to Toriko. "Set up a guard rotation, let people know they can make an appointment for time in here. We can't deal with the rush of every citizen at once." He shook his head in amazement as he stared back at the pool, chest heavy with emotion. "Everyone will get a turn. Everyone that wants one."


This was a good day.


＊＊＊



The clone working on the walls wondered what could possibly be going on at the eternal gardens, even from here at the exterior of Uzushio he could feel the other clones chakra fluctuating.


Either way he had his own work to do. They were only doing 100 meters of wall at a time due to the complicated process they were using. They could slap up an earth wall like Konoha and slap some seals on it, sure. Kaido didn't want to go in that direction. It's what Uzushio had before. It was not enough.


Also, Uzushio would once again - when they stepped out into the light, be known as artisans and craftsmen. It required something special. Something that together with the beauty of the rest of Uzushio and the craftsmanship of their sealers, their blacksmiths and artists - would bring civilians and merchants and Nobles in droves to the village. Perhaps even the various Daimyo would visit. The money from tourism and Nobles making up for the shortfall in Uzushio not taking genocide or assassination missions.


It did mean that it would probably take years to finish the entire wall to achieve the effect he wanted. They started with an earth wall, and did indeed add seals for durability and the usual. Then the Tokoro clan members came into play covering the wall in crystal. Again seals for durability and chakra absorption and such were placed. Also several highly complex seals that would interact with the outer portion of the wall instead of the crystal. Kaido watched as his Shinobi carefully utilized water release against those high level and very expensive and experimental seals.


There was a muted cheer as the water began to swirl along the outside of the wall, until it was several feet deep, the crystal underneath shimmering in the churning waves of moving water that kept moving like the ocean along their wall. If their seals worked as theorized the water would be immune to further jutsu manipulation, was chakra absorbing and would shred anything that entered it.


Several Tokoro clan members slowly inserted crystals covered in seal work into the churning waters. The seal work was to empower the chakra absorption properties of the water. No one would climb up these walls, and theoretically it would take several dozen S-rank jutsu at one portion of the wall to chance destroying it. Which would also need to mean their barrier department was all dead. The other point of a moving water defense was the fact it was liquid - and if one section was weakening it could literally be moved around by the barrier team and water from another section, fully empowered, took its place.


He nodded to the Shinobi next to him and soon several fireballs flew against the water. There wasn't even any steam as the jutsu was immediately absorbed by the glowing water, the light fading as the chakra was dispersed from the site of the attack.


They'd have to test it more of course, much more. But it looked good. Their plans the past decade were all coming together so nicely. Even if they had years to go before it would all be built up properly.


Being a Kage definitely had its disadvantages, how he wished he could do a real mission like Inohana. Have the blood pumping due to the excitement and risk of discovery. Perhaps getting to fight an enemy Shinobi? But Kage does not get to have the excitement of a Jounin… It really was unfair.


Whelp, more walls to build, more seals to place, work, work, work and no fun.


Being the clone of a Kage sucked!


＊＊＊


Inohana was utterly terribly inconsolably bored out of her fucking mind. Getting into the land of Fire undetected, piece of cake. Traveling towards Konoha as a wide eyed pathetic looking civilian refugee, easy. There were plenty of them to hide amongst. Inohana wasn't overly picky about things but… Really, next time she'd pick another infiltration means, the smell, oh kami the smell!


The Inuzuka clan could probably be destroyed just by sending them against the sad little train of refugees moving deeper into the land of Fire from some border dispute that had totalled their village. There were rivers on the way, why couldn't people wash their bodies and clothes once in a while? She might be permanently nose blind now.


She'd faked disease and been left behind once she was behind the likely outer limit of regular Konoha patrols, the outer limits patrols would be more frequent and heavily staffed with veterans then the ones closer to Konoha, which would have a mix of clan rookies and genin, easy pickings. Taking to the trees and putting on a Konoha headband, she did look like a Yamanaka after all, being one, so she'd use what she had. It would give her precious seconds if one of the inner patrols would have caught her. Which at least would get her blood pumping some.


Just… They hadn't. She had been sitting in a tree for days now, flitting back and forth between different resting spots about 12 miles away from Konoha. Waiting to find someone from a patrol that she could impersonate to get into the village. Once in, she could look like herself and draw no suspicion, everyone just going, oh, a Yamanaka.


But she doubted any of her clan's old registration numbers would be enough to get her through the likely stringent security at the entrance to Konoha. She'd need a patsy to mind walk, and impersonate, preferably one returning from a mission. And no one had been coming through for days! More importantly, because of this she hadn't had a bath for over two weeks now, with the refugee train and now this.


Dipping into a river quickly sooo didn't count as a proper wash. Kami her hair will take weeks of pampering to get back to its luster. Not to mention the lack of companionship, Inohana was a people person, she'd also probably not gone this long without getting laid for years, so that was definitely annoying. The positives of being in an enclosed space for years with not much to do other then train or fuck.


She pouted as she supped on squirrel, chakra tightly held and almost completely unnoticeable even as her chakra sense gently stretched out to find anyone. Like literally she'd take anyone at this point. She'd even impersonate a Hyuuga if she could get out of here. She'd have to find a big stick for her butt first, but it's a forest, she'd manage.


She tilted her head and imagined the mission report. Dear Uzukage-Sama, I successfully infiltrated Konoha thanks to butt stuff. She huffed at herself in amusement taking another bite of her not very tasty meal. She'd totally write it like that too if only she could be sure Mito got to read it first. The Uzumaki clan head was adorable when she blushed. And she was so used to Inohana now she rarely did, half the time joining in on her teasing of Kaido-Sama.


She perked up as she felt chakra two miles out and approaching. Team of three… She closed her eyes as it usually helped her sensing to focus entirely on her chakra. Likely Chuunin, possibly one genin, two Chuunin - due to a much weaker chakra signature in the third. Two fire affinities, likely the Chuunin as the lower signature does not ping a developed affinity at all. So likely genin then for sure.


She slid down her tree and moved to intercept the team casually, finishing her squirrel so as to not leave anything behind. Her mind focused and sharp, eager to begin and beyond ecstatic she could finally get out of these woods. It wouldn't matter if none of these Shinobi were ideal. She'd make it work.


The three were coming down one of the roads leading to the main road to Konoha. Whatever mission they had been on had definitely not been peaceful. She clocked both Chuunin males with injuries, a broken arm on the blonde one, several bandaged wounds and a significant limp on the dark haired one. And would you look at that? The little genin was a Yamanaka. 14 maybe, not as injured as the others, probably support, long distance Genjutsu, definitely not a medic with those injured comrades. And very underdeveloped muscles and chakra coils. Was she along as a bed warmer or what? Had her clan completely dropped the ball in Konoha?


She dropped down from the tree onto the road ahead of them, a stern look on her face. A subtle henge had changed some aspects of her face and body, making her more slim, jaw more defined, nose more prominent. "Identify yourselves!" She barked authoritatively. Little Chuunin and genin so used to jumping when yelled at.


"Ah, Yamanaka-san? Has something happened? We usually don't need to show identification until the main gate?" The blond Chuunin asked sheepishly, and with some worry. Probably assuming Konoha itself had suffered an attack if security was tightened.


The little Yamanaka was looking at Inohana suspiciously, probably wondering why she can't recognize me, Inohana thought wryly. Or if she's actually the bed warmer, wondering if she's out of a job…


Inohana put on a suspicious look and took two quick steps forward, "Failing to identify yourselves will lead to your detainment." She said flatly. She did the superior look really well. It was all in keeping her eyes cold, her tone steady and strong.


The blonde Chuunin looked unsurely towards his Chuunin comrade and she struck immediately. Senbon taking him in the neck immediately paralyzing him, his limp body falling to the ground as the Yamanaka squeaked in shock.


The dark haired Chuunin tried to draw a kunai, Inohana already too close, a long leg snapping up under his chin, throwing his head upwards with a crack to his jaw, before he could attempt anything else or even think of a kawamiri she'd already twirled around and slit his throat. One hand reached out with the blunt end of her kunai right after and braining the Yamanaka with it. Her limp body falling uselessly to the ground.


A quick application of Doton and the body was buried ten feet underground. Any Inuzuka or Aburame would find it if they came along the road, that's fine, she'd be long inside Konoha by then.


She grabbed the girl and the paralyzed Chuunin and took to the trees, heading for the little safe area she had made, seals preventing any chakra from being sensed. Within twenty minutes she arrived, having taken it fairly slowly, sensing for any other patrols or returning Shinobi the entire time.


She tied the girl up completely in ninja wire just to be on the safe side, and then took a comfortable seat, to mindwalk her little Chuunin captive.


Oh what a bad bad boy, the girls only 14 and you're 27, you pervert. She thought tsking in his mind as she dug up everything on current Konoha procedures, passwords or chakra pings needed to enter, finding it pathetically lax, only needing their identification number and a chakra ping in the correct sequence for this month. Once she had that and the mission information she left his filthy, filthy mind and slit his throat clinically. Although the Yamanaka wasn't a bed warmer and actually was Genjutsu support apparently, it hadn't stopped the man from perving on her and making advances. No great loss there. She felt she was doing Konoha a favor, really.


She turned to the Yamanaka, cooly regarding her features. There were ways to hide the chakra emissions of a henge. Most of them were very unpleasant. For one she definitely wasn't going to be wearing the girl's skin. Just yuck. Her uncle's stories about Orochimaru just furthered her belief that Konoha was all kinds of ways of fucked up. She dove into the girl's mind, casually batting away her genin level Yamanaka mind defenses. It was cute, but she got better then that when she was like 8, so the girl was just kind of pathetic.


The girl's mind confirmed what the Chuunin had about sign in procedures. She also took the time to have a gander for where the Yamanaka compound was, what she knew of its members, guard rotations and where their elders lived, and their archives were located. Sadly the girl had no idea about the archives. Oh well, she'd make do. The Yamanaka in Uzushio were missing a lot of the information the clan had gathered over centuries. She might as well go shopping if she was going to be hanging around.


She left the girl's mind and without a care slit her throat as well. They might have once been family. But Inohana had seen what Konoha had wrought in Uzushio as a child through their betrayal - and the war coming to their home due to Konoha's warmongering. She'd read the reports that were coming in on the horrible things Konoha were doing to its own people.


She had no sympathy for an enemy and these Yamanaka that cowered behind Sarutobi and let atrocities go by without lifting a finger were no family of hers. Sending girls like this out during a war and children as young as 6 and 7 proved beyond any doubt that Konoha deserved her disgust.


She used the girl's blood and formed seals carefully. A blood henge would only work for a few hours when the sacrifice had been fresh. Still an unpleasant jutsu, but needs must. Minutes later the whole camp was buried with the bodies, the seal tags removed, and Inohana moved towards the gates of Konoha to report mission success but two unfortunate casualties. In the end her crying cute little genin face had the Chuunin guards let her in with no issues. The ANBU she could feel watching over the entrance had completely lost interest the second she had performed the chakra ping to the correct sequence. The sloppiness of this village would certainly make it easy for her. She sneered inwardly, doubtlessly they counted on the barrier corps to notice if there was an infiltrator. The barrier constructed by Uzushio…


Too bad for them the blood henge mimicked even chakra signatures. And without Uzushio expertise she doubted they'd be able to ever fully understand or upgrade the barrier. She'd have to remember to report to Uzukage-Sama how easy it would be for Uzushio shinobi to take advantage of that fact in the future.


Once she never showed up at the Hokage tower or the Yamanaka compound - no doubt someone would figure out that they had been fooled somehow. It wouldn't be too hard for Konoha to find the bodies. If they moved fast enough their Yamanaka might even be able to pull her henged appearance from the corpse's minds. For experts like the Yamanaka Jounin, it would be obvious she was henged, and they'd assume enemy nin using a henge to take on a Konoha clan's appearance. No one would suspect a real Yamanaka, no one would think an infiltrator would continue to henge as a Yamanaka either. And of course she no longer wore a henge at all. So if they looked for one she'd come across as 100 percent native Yamanaka. Sometimes it was just too easy.


Once she was sure she wasn't followed, she simply dropped the blood henge and moved forward as just any random Yamanaka one might see on the street. Infiltration success.


＊＊＊


Senju Tokara really really wished sometimes that she wasn't so impulsive or nice or a sucker for an adorable face. It's what made her so super awesome and kickass. But it also landed her into so much hot water with Hikama-jiji and Kaido-Sama. She had a feeling she was going to end up yelled at. Alot. Like reeaally a lot.


To begin with she was kind of technically supposed to be in the land of Fire, on her way to Takigakure, but there had been a bunch of buzzing Aburame annoyances everywhere she went, so she took to the ocean to avoid all that.


And she might have possibly ended up in the land of Water. Which was like, oops. Also she had totally maybe had to kill a couple kiri nin who noticed her enter their borders. So… That was bad. Not unfixable but she'd definitely get the tired, just why, eyes from Hikama-jiji.


Then on her way out of the land of Water she'd gotten slightly turned around due to all the chakra laden mist and all the fighting going on. And she'd accidentally headed further in instead. Even the civilians were fighting each other and the Daimyo's forces. It was super weird. Maybe the information would make her bosses less mad at her though. Kiri was just messed up.


And well there had been sooo many poor starving kids, she'd really had no choice at all. Which of course led to her current tiny little problem. Hiding in a village not too far from the hidden mist village, occupying a warehouse with almost 40 children in various states of seriously not okay.


So her mission to spy on Takigakure Shinobi patrols and caravans to try and figure out how they're doing in the war was kind of totally a failure right now.


That… And she was in a bit of a tiny bind. She didn't feel like leaving the kids to die. But she was definitely noticed and she could feel the signatures slowly starting to encircle the warehouse. Decisions, decisions. She tapped her head with a frustrated scowl. Think Tokara! She scolded herself.


"Miss… You should just leave us behind." Came the all too serious and dead tone of a small child behind her. His clothes were threadbare and his face gaunt. Purple hair falling limply down, covered in sweat and grime.


Ignoring the grimy hair, Tokara squatted down and grinned at the kid as she tousled the hair, ignoring his face scrunching up. "Sooooo~ cute~" She sing-songed. She pushed his cheeks together, "No kid should be this grumpy!"


"You'll die. And we'll die anyway." He said, an annoyed furrow in his brow. Trying to push her hands away. Tokara squished his cheeks an extra two times just cuz she could. Alright, that does it, Imma gonna make this kid smile even if it kills me! Uhhh, hopefully Uzukage-sama doesn't kill me…. Tokara thought as she stepped away from the kid and winked at him. "Nee-san is going to do something pretty cool, so pay attention!"


She sped through the seals, having used a canine to spread blood onto her fingers, no doubt the enemies would come quicker now that she would be spending a whole quarter of her chakra stores. "Kuchiyose no jutsu!" Seal script spread across the warehouse floor and in a poof of smoke a huge Orca almost fully white with just patches of black around the eyes appeared. And flopped down onto the ground sending a reproving look Tokara's way.


"Tokara-chan… What have we told you about summoning us outside of water." The orca spoke with the air of someone who had to often repeat themselves.


The kids all huddled behind her as she laughed nervously scratching her head. "Can't be helped, Tono-sama! Got all these kids that need me!"


The orca summon sighed, but thankfully didn't spend time arguing with Tokara, as she could feel the Shinobi moving in. "Quickly now cutelings, go inside the Orca."


The kids, starved and half dying, did not move. Watching the orca in trepidation.


Tokara huffed, "Come on, she's a summon, she has like a ton of space in her belly."


"I think that's what they're worried about." The grimy purple kid said in a deadpan.


Tokara sent a spread of shuriken, defly parrying a spread sent towards the kids from the other end of the warehouse. "It's the Orca or these guys!" She shouted, sending fire chakra blaring through her fists as she punched a hole through the Kiri Shinobi that tried to move in close when she defended the kids.


The kids finally started moving, as mist started seeping into the warehouse, a loud chuckling voice projecting throughout the space. "That's some fire affinity you have… Leaf ninja."


Tokara frowned, well if they thought she was a Konoha ninja that was better than what she was. Hopefully she didn't like, make Kiri go after Konoha or anything. Oh she was so going to be in the shit for this. D-ranks for like a year. She groaned quietly, keeping half an eye on the kids, half of them having made it inside her summon.


She should have trash talked or something, what a time to suddenly not be a blabbermouth as the Kiri Shinobi suddenly attacked, and she was busy throwing weapons, sliding under swords and disabling joints and knee caps, trying to not get caught in one place too long.


A quick fireball bursting out of her mouth dispersing her immediate opponents. She huffed, feeling several nicks where she got cut. But knew she had put at least three Shinobi out of this fight. And with the fire chakra she used, they'd probably die if they didn't get treated quickly or had an amazing water affinity.


The Shinobi who had talked walked into sight chuckling, "So you have some bite, little leaf."


"Wow, a fat ninja." Tokara said wide-eyed. Putting a hand to her mouth in shock. The Shinobi was heavyset with long reddish orange hair, green fangs tattooed on his face and an ugly bulldog like face. He was wearing a regular gray Kiri Shinobi uniform and had a large wrapped sword on his back.


Said fat ninja twitched, eyes enraged. "Do you know who I am, you little shit!? I am Fuguki Suikazan of the seven swordsmen!"


Tokara gave an awkward applause after a few seconds of silence. "Good for you?' she said not sure if she was supposed to know who he was. Like, she knew about the swords and everything. But were the guys using them famous? She'd never heard of any of them as Kage or anything. So they couldn't be that strong.


"Kill this bitch!" Fuguki growled as several more Shinobi moved forward. Forcing Tokara to spend more chakra than she'd liked on forcing her legs to move faster, being a fist fighter really didn't put her in a good position against a bunch of kenjutsu users. Hence why she was supposed to be in the land of Fire, which didn't really do swords much.


Tch! Situation's not looking good, She thought as she twisted in the air to avoid two sword strikes, one striking low, one going high, her body twisting almost unnaturally in the air in between them, striking out with a finger blaring fire chakra and exploding out the Kiri ninja's knee cap at the same time as she kicked the other ninja in the face - rolling off the cement floor and barely avoiding some sort of water drill jutsu perforating her head, strands of hair shorn off as she bounced back up.


A bloody knee cap rolled past her as the bleeding out Kiri ninja wailed and was ignored by all the combatants. There's only two ninja left now, besides Fuguki, who would be a problem whenever he got involved, she could literally feel his chakra and he wasn't even doing anything with it, it was that potent.


Warily eyeing the confident Fuguki and determining he seemed to be in no rush to help his men, she flashed through hand seals as the three remaining ninja rushed her. A veritable fire storm erupted in front of her, a dense wall of fire, slowing down two of her opponents as they jumped back to not get burnt.


Tokara immediately fell on the ninja that had been trying to go around to take her in the back as the other two rushed her front, engaging in a vicious taijutsu fight, needing to end this quickly before the other two realized she had used a Genjutsu and not blown her entire reserves on a big ass fire jutsu. She'd need her chakra for Fuguki if she was to stand a chance.


She smiled with bloody teeth as she took a strike to the mouth but managed to crush her opponent's throat in return. And just in time. She could feel her Genjutsu unraveling and the telltale sounds of sandals on cement heading her way. She was glad this kill team only had Fuguki appear to be a Jounin, the rest must be Chuunin, because no Jounin ever would make that much sound on approach. Maybe that's just her Uzushio sensibilities talking.


She dodged a strike to her throat by a hair's breadth, punching the flat of the sword forcing the man's arm upwards, having to abandon her killing strike against his now open ribcage as his remaining comrade shunsined behind her, slashing towards her back the second he came out of the high speed movement. She revised her earlier thoughts to maybe borderline Jounin, that quick reversal out of a Shunshin wasn't small potatoes. And she was going to pay for it now.


Suddenly the grumpy kid was at her back, and she took the opportunity, as much as it galled her to potentially lose the kid, and killed her opponent with a chakra enhanced punch to his chest, putting enough chakra in there to push his sword back, breaking his arm and continuing on, crushing his sternum.


She then twirled around desperately, furious at the kid for possibly dying for her and trying to be fast enough to prevent it. Blinking in surprise as the blade sliced into the kid only to have him turn into water, wincing as it still cut into her, opening a wide gash in her back and side as she twisted, but not penetrating deep enough to get her kidneys. The Kiri Shinobi snarled in anger as Tokara got over her surprise and pain and without hand seals fired a fire jutsu into his face. Yuck, melty.


The kid reformed with a stubborn look on his face. Obviously a Hozuki which, oh boy. She was going to be in a heap of shit. "Get to the summon now!" She shouted at him, creating an earth wall just in time to protect both of them as Fuguki practically rushed through it, his bandaged sword smashing it like it was nothing.


She picked the kid up by his collar and threw him away as she dodged the sword, letting out a shocked breath as she felt it suck up her chakra, stumbling a bit as she rolled away, tossing three kunai to limit his avenue of attack.


The sting in her side made her wince in pain, the constant blood loss not making this easier for her. She bit her lip, she needed to either finish this fast or somehow get time to treat her wound. Somehow I don't think I'll get either. She thought, mind flitting between plans and finding none that enthused her.


"You stand no chance against Samehada you brat." Fuguki said, sneering as he walked slowly forward. Tokara warily watched him, crouched low and thinking fast. He was slow and overconfident, but yikes that sword sucked! Jutsu would be pointless unless she got him by complete surprise. Genjutsu would unravel by Samehada, and wasn't that a surprise and a half to run into, Taijutsu was literally impossible as Samehada would shred her or suck her dry. She didn't do Kenjutsu.


"I notice that you say I can't defeat your sword, instead of saying I can't beat you, fatty." She said, immediately cursing herself and her big fat mouth. Her chakra reserves were pretty big, but a major summons, several jutsu, the extra cost of a seal-less jutsu and having her chakra sucked up - hadn't left her in optimal condition.


"I'm a veteran, you won't force me into a mistake with insults." Fuguki growled, eyebrows twitching and his face red. He then eyed her summon who couldn't use any jutsu with the children in her belly. And Tokara knew she had to move, and really, a veteran? He wasn't much older than her! She'd have one chance to save her summon - which would also save the kids. And all in all, that wasn't such a bad death. There just wasn't a way for her to win this fight, she braced herself.


As he laughed cruelly and rushed towards her summon with Samehada raised and ready to devour, she put as much chakra as she could afford into a shunshin, even knowing this was a trap meant for her, she couldn't let him drain her summons chakra and risk the kids, even if it was her life.


She felt her chakra draining fast on arrival out of the shunshin and she gasped out in pain, her coils protesting as she held Samehada back with two kunai crossed. Being pushed to her knees by the much stronger Shinobi. Tears coming into her eyes as the excruciating pain of her own chakra coils being sucked dry.


"You're dead you foolish kunoichi, we all know your weakness for comrades, leaf scum!" Fuguki leered, pressing down further. Taking enjoyment out of her suffering. Through blurry eyes, Tokara saw movement and prayed to the sage, let it work please!


"And I have your sword occupied." Tokara snarled viciously, blood dribbling down her lips as she spat up at Fuguki, trying to keep all his attention. Relief hitting her at seeing Fuguki's brow tighten in confusion, before Tono bit his head off, blood spraying into the air as Samehada fell to the ground and Tokara collapsed bonelessly into the puddle.


"Eww…" she complained, mostly to keep herself from sobbing in relief. Grateful that it worked, because no matter how she looked at it, she was going to lose that fight. It wasn't even close, she was going to die. So she wasn't dead, so that meant everything was just peachy. Only nightmares yay, she thought tiredly.


"Are you okay? Tokara-chan?" Tono asked, not able to move very well on land, really she was lucky Fuguki ended up close enough to her head for a quick bite. And Tokara knew she'd owe her summon sooooo much TLC for this.


"Absolutely, I'll just uh… lie here… For like ten hours." Tokara groaned, feeling absolutely depleted. If this is what chakra exhaustion felt like, then she was really glad she was a Senju and normally didn't have any issues in that department. She had never felt her coils protest like that, it felt like being turned inside out to be honest and she really didn't want to ever experience it again.


"You're an idiot." The deadpan Hozuki kid complained. Before poking her head gently with his foot. "I'm not picking you up." He decided. Which really, he was like 5, and she was a beautiful fully grown kunoichi, how did he expect to do that in the first place. Kids were just so cute. She wanted a hundred of them. Unfortunately Uzukage-Sama had forbidden her from reproducing until he retired. Also, "Why the FUCK aren't you in my summons yet you little brat!" She yelled at him, possibly not looking very authoritative slumped in a big puddle of blood.


"Because you were losing." He said matter of factly, "I wanted to see if you'd lose your head." She groaned, Kiri people were just the worst!


"Can you use chakra?" She asked with another tired groan. She rolled her eyes as the kid just stared at her, he could turn into water so he probably could since like birth or something. "Fine, fine. Go into my pack, ugh, it's all covered in blood, gross. Do you know what a storage scroll looks like?"


"Like a scroll, probably." The kid snarked, and she really wanted to say something but that's the most alive he'd sounded so far and it was absolutely adorable. He rooted around in her pack completely nonchalant about the blood and pulled out her storage scroll. Kiri people were kinda gross, she decided.


She eyed Samehada, at least if nothing else she'd return a weapon created by the Uzumaki sealmasters and blacksmiths. "Put it on that freaky sword and pulse your chakra once."


The kid eyed the sword warily, which okay, she definitely understood. But did what he was asked, and she slumped down in relief when it worked. She definitely did not want to try and drag that thing with her. Good luck to whatever poor bastard had to use that. And if they ever came near her with that sword she'd totally run the other way. After nutshotting them.


"Anything else?" He asked sarcastically.


Tokara studied her own state and hummed, before giving the kid a bright grin. "Please drag me into my summon." Clasping her hands together and making her eyes go wider.


"Ugh." The kid scoffed, having to use both hands to drag her by her arms into her summons. When they were both safely ensconced, her summon poofed into smoke. Another summon would be sent to Uzushio to have another summoner call for Tono and deposit them all on Uzushio soil. Oh, and she possibly, maybe, needed to fix herself a bit before she bled to death too.


Tokara reeaally wouldn't mind staying with her summons a few days first. Her report this time was going to be… Complicated…


And a Hozuki… like the second Mizukage who probably killed bunches of Uzumaki, at least it had been the third who took part in the invasion since the second had been dead for a while by then. Like pretty much all the seconds died around the same time, which was weird. Yeah, she might be doing d-ranks for a lot longer than a year. Maybe the fact it was the third who was a complete butthole would give her a break for the Hozuki thing.


Now if she could only come up with a really good reason for the whole accidentally in the wrong country thing….


You know… this was all really those Aburame's fault. Fuck Konoha, really.


＊＊＊



Kaido, or more correctly his clone, surveyed the land in front of him. He had gone out with one of the teams that were readying the island of Uzushio itself for habitation and a return to farming and living. The scouts had predictably reported that there were no living souls on the island upon their return. Whether Kiri, Iwa and Kumo killed them all, or brought home civilians in hope one would have enough Uzumaki blood, he didn't know.


It did mean that the small villages and farms that dotted Uzushio needed repair, and preparation for more of Kaido's diversification strategy. He had pondered the invasion, once the anger and grief had gone from a boil to a simmer. He'd decided that Uzushiogakure had been too isolated. Allied with Konoha, yes. But barely an afterthought to the various Daimyo for anything but the occasional vanity project they paid so handsomely for.


Uzushio had no real ties to the daimyo other than as occasional contractors. No ties to the mercantile sectors of the world that moved billions of Ryo each year. The noble courts and the civilian business sectors, even just the everyday civilian in their neighbors didn't care for or know their name.


He was already working on making Uzushiogakure not only the most well defended, but also the most beautiful and attractive village, to bring in the fickle Nobles. To make Uzushiogakure their favorite vacation spot.


He'd worked hard with their seal masters to develop more mercantile seals. Ones he could sell, ones civilians could use. Something he could use to forcefully bend trade routes to see Uzushiogakure as a natural stop. He had continued to push his people to not let go of their artisan ways in their grief and anger. Knowing crystal figurines and even such things as crystal goblets and plates would sell, that artwork by crystal release would sell.


That the rugs, weaves and colorful, artful banners they made would sell. And now that they had some Yuki picked up from Mist, the eventual potential for ice sculptures sealed to last forever, bringing in more revenue to the village and more merchants and nobles. All these were just one small cog in a wheel. To bind merchants, Nobles, the daimyo, and yes, even regular civilians to his cause.


The civilians would hear about the fantastic beauty, art, music and food of Uzushiogakure. That their Shinobi were protectors, not assassin's. Their entire culture would seep into the lives of other nations, and as more stories spread, as Uzushiogakure's literature spread, more people would wish, hope, think.


This was not a democratic world. Yet… How much further ahead of the rest had Konoha risen on the laurels of being the "nice" Shinobi village? If the daimyo favored Uzushiogakure for its beauty and culture, if the merchants wove Uzushio into a vital part of their trade networks. If civilians everywhere idealized Uzushio. Then half the battle was won.


Even Kage have to work with public opinion and Nobles to some extent. Allying again to crush Uzushio would not be an easy task this time. The defenses would be daunting enough. He intended to make sure Uzushiogakure's products, food, music and art, spread so far and wide, even the Shinobi would not want to destroy them. He had the advantage of a different world of memories to add to it all.


He'd already taken the time to adapt several pieces of literature under a pen name, once Uzushiogakure came out in the open, Uzushio literature would be a thing. New foods, new music and instruments. He'd even crafted a sporting event for Shinobi specifically which he knew would draw in the adrenalin junkies and the nobles who so loved to bet on anything Shinobi. Well he had stolen it wholesale to be fair. Blitzball would be interesting as a Shinobi sport. Maybe eventually a way to peace it the other villages got drawn in to try and compete.


All of this was why he was inspecting land. Potatoes and grapes both existed in this world, and were both heavily underutilized. If he could draw in the Shinobi it would be with spirits. Alcohol was probably the second largest expenditure in a Shinobi's entire life, behind equipment. Uzushiogakure brand alcohol, whiskey and the like, would just be another of the little cogs making it that much harder to even think of destroying them. Kaido had ten years to just think up more ways of protecting his people. There was nothing he wouldn't do, no avenue he wouldn't find to ensure they would never again suffer the threat of complete eradication. Potatoes and grapes were just tiny small parts of those plans.


Besides, he'd gone almost three decades without fries or a baked potato. What was the point of having unlimited power over a people if you didn't indulge in a bit of a satisfactory personal project.


He smiled in satisfaction as he saw his people repairing farms, preparing the soil. It was a small step. They didn't know it yet, but these small steps would do more to protect Uzushio in the coming years than their walls would. The best way to avoid a fight wasn't to be so scary no one would fight, inspiring that kind of fear made it more likely someone would lash out. No, removing their will to fight you is how you ended a fight.


They wouldn't be toothless, they'd gladly take their revenge where they could get it as long as it didn't inspire another continent wide war. They were still Shinobi. Yet, their village wouldn't be made just to do that. They wouldn't exist just to make money to slit throats.


Uzushiogakure was going to become the beacon of what a peaceful prosperous shinobi village could be, enjoying art, sports and music when not doing missions. And hopefully just as Konoha dragged the world out of the warring states era, Uzushiogakure would drag them all out of this wasteful mentality of willing to destroy anything and everything just to call yourself the strongest village.


Kaido would gladly kill the likes of Onoki if he could. He wouldn't sacrifice his village on that altar of revenge though. If he never got revenge, if that would be the cost of protecting Uzushiogakure, he would take it and swallow his hatred. For the future generations.


＊＊＊


"Inoichi-kun, to what do I owe the pleasure?"


Yamanaka Inoichi grimaced as he stood awkwardly at the door of his elder cousin, he hated having to do these kinds of things. His father had insisted that he'd needed to get used to it if he was ever going to take over as clan head. And he agreed with the necessity, he just hated it.


"Ikana-baasan, could I come in for a minute?" He said delicately, noticing her raised eyebrow and tired sigh. The problem with being Yamanaka was that you were too skilled in reading people's faces and chakra, Ikana-baasan no doubt already knew exactly what he was here for.


Inoichi followed her into the kitchen, debating how exactly to begin this conversation. Raising an eyebrow seeing two cups of tea prepared already, surely she hadn't known he would be coming?


Ikana-baasan noticed his confusion and smiled slightly, albeit sadly. "Ah, one of my granddaughters that have been on diplomatic missions for years now has finally returned to the village, it's her cup, not yours." She raised her usually bent back slightly and huffed, "No matter what anyone says Inoichi-kun, we aren't psychic." Her lips twitched as she shuffled to sit down.


Now that he was focusing on it, he could feel another signature in the house, clearly Yamanaka in flavor. He hadn't known about Ikana-baasan having more granddaughters but if she had been on foreign missions for years it's likely her file had been buried.


"Ino is dead I take it?" She said in a shaky voice as Inoichi sat down across from her. Her weathered face was resigned, eyes already accepting. Ikana-baasan had already lost her kids to the second shinobi war, and now 6 grandkids to the third already. There was talk about limiting Yamanaka presence on the battlefield as their mortality rate was increasing substantially.


Inoichi sighed and nodded his head wearily. "Someone used her face to infiltrate the village after her mission, a scouting team found her and her teammates bodies about 12 miles outside Konoha shortly thereafter."


Ikana-baasan stiffened, hands shaking slightly. "Torture?' she asked, struggling to keep it together.


Inoichi shook his head quickly and reached forward and grabbed one of her hands, squeezing it gently. "No. It was quick." Seeing her skeptical look he kept eye contact, reiterating, "I wouldn't lie about this, it was quick, she didn't have time to suffer."


"Baasan? What's wrong, I could feel your chakra from upstairs?" A female voice cried out as another Yamanaka rushed into the kitchen, long blonde hair still wet from the shower. Inoichi blushed and looked away, Ikana-baasan's granddaughter was absolutely beautiful and only wearing a thin robe that with her body still being wet from the shower did not adequately cover her body.


He concentrated on the table keeping his eyes low as the granddaughter consoled her grandmother, some tears falling. He felt supremely uncomfortable, not only because of the situation, but because he had a very observant mind which frankly had observed way too much about the kunoichi and now he couldn't stop picturing it.


"Ah, Inoichi-san? Would you like a cup of tea?" The younger Yamanaka asked sweetly.


Inoichi briefly looked up, noticed the swell of her breasts pressing against the thin fabric and the outline of nipples and red faced brought his gaze down to the table again, mumbling a quick assent.


Kami, he felt like such a tool, ogling ikana-baasan's granddaughter while here to inform her of the death of another. Maybe he wasn't ready to be a clan head yet. He heard the clinking of a cup, but refused to look up, not wanting to be caught staring again.


"Here you go, Inoichi-san." The Yamanaka girl said, and he could definitely hear an amused tilt to her voice. He felt resigned, of course she had noticed. Yamanaka after all. He quickly took a sip of the tea, trying to hide his embarrassment. He frowned. The tea tasted… he dropped the cup, his fingers suddenly losing feeling. He looked up in shock seeing Ikana-baasan sitting perfectly still and unseeing, and the Yamanaka kunoichi smirking at him. "What?" He managed to say through half paralyzed lips before darkness took him.


Yamanaka Inohana giggled as the heir to the Yamanaka clan fell over. She ran a hand down her wet hair, honestly, men were too easy. Show some boob and they didn't even notice what you're doing to the tea.


It had been easy to find an elder who lived on their own and rarely had visitors. She'd had several to pick from, and then she had stumbled across one who's granddaughter she had just killed. She figured someone high in the clan hierarchy would eventually show up to inform her of the kid's death. So she inserted herself in her life. It was a day of careful work to seamlessly become family to the old woman. Inserting memories and feelings of familial love. Aching heart for the poor granddaughter never home due to diplomatic missions to far away lands.


Honestly it was almost too easy. The treasure trove of information on clan history and jutsu she had found in the old woman's head was just the cherry on top. And now she had the clan heir. Who knew what juicy secrets he would have. She crouched down, uncaring of how her robe opened completely, she opened Inoichi-kun's eyes and performed the hand seals to invade his mind, no doubt his defenses would be an actual challenge for once.


Several hours later Inoichi left the house of his elder cousin with a pep in his step. He had spent longer than he had planned to, but after breaking the news to Ikana-baasan he had sat down to talk with her granddaughter Inohana-chan. And time had just flown by. He touched his cheek and blushed. The beautiful kunoichi had even pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before he left and asked him to not be a stranger. He resolved to find a reason to come visit again tomorrow. He rubbed his forehead slightly, a sudden headache making itself known. Probably too much tea, he hadn't been able to say no whenever the cute Inohana-chan had offered him a refill.


Watching her get up and turn to make it had certainly shown him that she definitely kept a well trained and firm body. His father would definitely tease him, and his teammates would be a pain if he told them. As he walked out of the Yamanaka compound to head off and see his team he decided it was best he kept Inohana-chan a secret for now. It must have been a good decision because he felt his headache lessen and his steps felt lighter as he continued on.


Back in the house he had left, said Inohana-chan couldn't stop giggling, the amount of information she was able to pull out on Konoha, the Torture and interrogation division and even on the Akimichi and Nara clans due to his closeness to his teammates had been an incredible find.


That's not even mentioning his almost complete knowledge of the Yamanaka compound, its defenses and seals and his knowledge of where they kept their archive. At this rate she might even give him what he desired and fuck him, because honestly she felt he deserved something for giving her literally everything Uzukage-Sama would want and more.


And he wasn't too bad looking either. She did have an itch to scratch, and it would be easier to get him to access the archives if he was subconsciously happy with her. And he would definitely be very happy after a roll in the sheets. She giggled again, as Ikana-baasan sat stiffly in her chair, staring ahead unseeing, her mind locked down whenever Inohana had no need of her. Now she just needed to get eyes on Kushina-chan and this mission was practically over.


Konoha was just too easy.


＊＊＊



Sarutobi Hiruzen was tired. He was tired of war, of death, of losing comrades and friends and family. Yet, he still was needed in his position. Maybe soon he could retire, after the war. There was a promising Jounin… And there was always Orochimaru, although his withdrawal from the rest of the forces lately and his obsession with research was beginning to give him doubts.


He looked out the window smoking idly, this informal meeting with his teammates and Danzo coming to an end. One of his ANBU was giving a report he was barely paying attention to while appearing to be listening intently. There was a temporary lull in the war as everyone tested the boundaries and figured out what the next step would be.


"Repeat that." He said suddenly, surely he hadn't heard that correctly.


ANBU Crane didn't show any sign of discomfort as his monotonous voice repeated his words. "The Jounin commander received a note from Kiri an hour ago demanding the return of the sword Samehada, of the legendary seven swords of Kirigakure."


"And why are they demanding this from us?" Hiruzen asked, eyes sliding towards Danzo questioningly. Root did operate in the land of water. Danzo shook his head minutely. So not him then. Possibly. It was hard to tell with his old rival nowadays. Yet… Stealing one of the swords of Kirigakure, while they were beset with enemies, didn't seem like Danzo's style.


"The note claimed a Konoha kunoichi stole the sword and disappeared within an Orca summon." Crane reported, disappearing in a swirl of leaves as Hiruzen made a motion with his hand. Eyes meeting Danzo's lone one. Both Homura and Koharu seemed unsettled. They all knew when they had seen Orca summons last.


"No Konoha Shinobi has that contract." Danzo said with a scowl.


"Is it possible they have found a new summoner? It could possibly be another Kiri Shinobi, they are having troubles at home." Homura mused out loud stroking his beard.


Danzo looked skeptical but kept quiet as Koharu scoffed and answered. "We can count out it being an Uzumaki, they would have definitely mentioned that. Going after one of the swords and using a summoning contract likely looted from Uzushiogakure. This has a rebel faction of Kiri written all over it."


"You think they're bluffing us?" Hiruzen asked, "Why admit losing one of the swords. The strongest one at that if they weren't confident we held it?"


"They're simply trying to take advantage of our situation. Refuse them." Homura said simply. Koharu nodded along with him. Danzo said nothing but disagreement practically wafted off him to Hiruzen's senses.


Uzushiogakure was Hiruzen's greatest shame. How his sensei would turn in his grave if he knew his students' failure. When they had learned of Uzushiogakure's pending attack his students had begged him to be allowed to go. Hiruzen knew that with the forces involved the death toll would be catastrophic. So he saved his students from the massacre and sent Danzo with his root forces and a battalion of regular forces under his command to aid their ally.


When Danzo returned to report that they had been too late and could only kill some straggling looters he could literally feel Tsunade lose her will, with the death of her brother and fiance it was too much and she left within a few years.


Orochimaru turned manic, retreating from his comrades, only coming out for missions. And Jiraiya…. Became a complete man whore, spending less and less time in Konoha.


All of them had great ties with the Uzumaki. Not to mention the Senju that had been stuck there for the invasion. Danzo had saved what relics or knowledge he could from Uzushio and his forces had returned, tight-lipped about what they had seen. It hadn't helped any of his students' mental health to see the Senju practically eradicated in the first two years after the death of the Uzumaki.


Hiruzen still didn't know how every mission with a Senju on it had ended so catastrophically. Eventually he had been forced to protect the last dozen with ANBU and refused to send them on any more missions. Only to find the ANBU team and the Senju slain, in the heart of Konoha without anyone having noticed a thing.


It's one of the only times he and Danzo had been of the same mind. Furiously turning over every stone and leaf they could to try and find the culprits. Which in their zeal had only gathered Konoha more enemies and had led to the start of the third war so soon after the second had ended, and they had never found out for sure who had killed the Senju. Although some ties to the Uchiha had been found. Hiruzen didn't believe it, it was too convenient, but his rival had been watching them with suspicion ever since.


Hiruzen dismissed his teammates soon after. Just him and Danzo in the office. A hand seal from him and his ANBU protection detail left the room and silencing and anti-byakugan seals lit up and sealed his office. "You don't believe it was an internal Kiri spat." He asked simply. Neither did he, his experience as Hokage said that it just didn't fit.


"Whatever the Uzumaki did to destroy it, none of their proprietary sealing knowledge or summoning scrolls were looted. We would have seen the Orca summons sooner if Kiri had them." Danzo said assuredly, and with some bitterness leaking through. Hiruzen sadly figured his rival was more upset about losing out on the plunder then the death of their ally in this case. How had they grown so different from being such idealistic kids?


"You think it could be a surviving Uzumaki?" Hiruzen asked, probing his rival. Danzo received a lot of information from his network, and sometimes Hiruzen felt that he barely saw a third of it. And dragging information out of Danzo was always time consuming and irritating.


Danzo seemed to think about it before shaking his head slowly. "No… An Uzumaki would be too noticeable, besides, whatever survived the invasion was hunted down religiously." He tapped his cane on the floor firmly. Sure of his answer. "One of their non-clan members most likely. Hidden all this time, and holding onto the summoning scroll."


Hiruzen nodded slowly, it seemed more likely. "One with a fire affinity perhaps, since Kiri seemed to believe it was us." He paused, "Perhaps not even that. It's logical to assume that if no contract was found in Uzushiogakure, it could be with its allied village." Not that they had been much of an ally in the end… He did not look forward to facing Arashi-kun and Mito-sama in the afterlife.


"Perhaps." Danzo answered. "We must respond." He pointed out calmly. Eye focused on Hiruzen's with intensity.


Hiruzen sighed, they had too many enemies to gather more, but they literally didn't have the sword to appease Kiri with. War made monsters out of them all. "You have free hands in the land of water." He said finally with a heavy voice. Root would ensure Kiri was too much of a mess to intervene on the mainland for a while.


Danzo being Danzo didn't even seem pleased. He just nodded slowly. No doubt plans upon plans already running through his mind. Hiruzen might dislike some of his methods. But without Danzo he would have never been able to run these wars. Root was a necessary evil.


"Turn their squabbles into a civil war." Hiruzen ordered with a heavy heart. Knowing he was ordering the deaths of thousands of innocent civilians. Yet as Hokage he had to weigh his own people's lives higher. And they could not afford Kiri allying with Iwa and Kumo.


He couldn't wait to give this hat up.


＊＊＊


Junichu Yui was unused to being away from her Kage for this amount of time. The purple haired kunoichi with the severe face of a consummate professional and muscular stocky scarred body of someone who worked hard to be the best they could be, was usually part of the Uzukage ANBU protection detail.


Her high affinity for water jutsu had been too useful for the latest bunch of assignments however and she had been sent out. She must have annoyed someone, because she had been sent all the way to the land of snow. Her mission had been to find and then spy on their hidden village. A minor village that had never been of any consequence on the international stage.


Yui had been sent due to her high water affinity enabling her to hold the water refraction jutsu for hours at a time. Becoming practically invisible, only high speed movements revealing a tell tale shimmer. With seals to hide her chakra presence and religiously washing with scent blocking soaps - the likelihood she'd be found out was extremely low. She did note that the freezing temperatures did appear to force her to put more chakra into the Jutsu, something to make note of to those at home in case others who could use it were ever sent to a similar climate.


The village hidden in the glaciers had been pathetically easy to find. Due to the climate, much of the food was imported and there just wasn't any good way to hide all those supply trips. Perhaps if they had acquired sealing knowledge to use storage scrolls for all of their supplies they could have avoided detection.


Yui was getting the idea that Uzumaki sealing was very different from what the rest of the world was capable of. As it was she had simply followed a caravan of food supplies to a hidden entrance in the mountains. Her jutsu had become necessary at that point. Not because of the escorts of the caravan who were only genin after all.


It was because of the fact that the hidden village was underground and the entrance was a tunnel - which made it unlikely she could infiltrate without having to silence any guards if she hadn't had her jutsu. As it was she had to silently creep through the tunnels having to pause and hide periodically from patrols and Shinobi exiting for missions.


When she finally made it inside she was somewhat disappointed in what she found. Although there were perhaps 500 Shinobi in total and three times as many civilians in the village, their level was… Unsatisfactory. Going by chakra levels was not always reliable, but unless they had several masters at hiding their chakra, the village had less than a dozen Jounin. The majority of their forces felt like genin or low Chuunin at best.


Further spying revealed nothing spectacular about their Shinobi. Some jutsu use she had never seen before, utilizing snow and ice and a few bloodline users that probably could be something if properly trained. It wasn't anything that would keep any other minor village from crushing them. Their isolated spot was probably the only reason they still existed.


They should be fairly easy to intimidate into folding into Uzushio. Albeit not very useful for years of retraining. What they did have however Yui had found, was a very interesting research department, staffed mostly with civilians, with a few Shinobi on staff to provide chakra and test inventions. They were working on a chakra armor that would absorb Jutsu, from what she could gather it barely worked on D-ranks right now, but the fact they'd made it work at all without specialized sealing knowledge was impressive. They had also invented something no Uzumaki seemed to have ever thought of. A sealing press. A machine that could press the sealing ink of an exploding tag into sealing paper, and get it right every time and at a speed that beats any sealing expert.


Yes it was just exploding tags, she doubted it would work for too many complicated seals. Yet, it was impressive. And the Shinobi did not realize at all what they had. From what she'd gathered, after Uzushio fell, sealing tags of any kind rocketed in price, including the simple exploding tag.


Uzushiogakure could sell exploding tags to every village in the nation with this kind of press, undercutting their own village sealmakers, outproducing them and being able to sell it for cheaper too. Killing sealing as a profitable skill in the other villages. Forcing them to utilize Uzushiogakure for their sealing needs. Making Uzushio indispensable. This was huge. She'd need to report and they needed to assimilate this village now. Before they realized what they had.


She stole away in the night, one of the prototype seal machines stolen with her, a manufactured accident ensuring no one was aware one had been stolen and that they thought it destroyed.


If they could improve on the design to make simple barrier tags, smoke tags, medical seals… There would be no second invasion. The elemental nations would need them too much to dare. She felt elation as she rushed back home, Yui would be able to make Uzukage-Sama smile. There had been so many years with just a grim resigned feeling from her Kage, now there was hope, she prayed this would brighten that hope into a bonfire.


They needed their Kage more than anything. He had kept them together through the horror and heartache of losing everything and everyone. He would be the greatest Kage in the nations. She swore it. Picking up extra speed as she moved homewards.


＊＊＊


It had been two months since they decided on a course of action and here they were again. Things were looking up, there was more hope and positivity all around with the western district being almost fully rebuilt.


None of their Shinobi had yet to die in their spying missions or supply runs. There had been hiccups of course, but all in all it was a much more relaxed atmosphere as they gathered again, to go over the latest developments. Everyone had a cup of sake in front of them, and they sat in an actual building this time. Only Yamanaka Inohana was still missing due to her infiltration of Konoha. They had her reports however. Kami, he loved being an Uzumaki and being able to get reports from those of his people skilled enough in seals to utilize them to send reports directly on active missions.


"I suppose since we are all relaxed and have had some drinks it is time to bring up the mission report of Senju Tokara…" Kaido said, starting the meeting and having to hold back a smirk at the aggravated sighs of both the Senju clan head Hikama and the Jounin commander Shinji.


"She achieved the return of Samehada, and recruited two Hozuki and four Yuki amongst the orphans she sheltered." Mito the clan head of the Uzumaki said mildly, peering at them all over her cup of sake. Of course her support had nothing to do with the fact that she absolutely adored the young Senju girl.


"She killed one of the seven swordsmen on Kiri soil, displayed her abilities to the Kiri survivors she left behind, showed off the Orca summons, risking our discovery and was a literal hair's breadth away from dying instead." Shinji countered with a displeased frown.


"You forgot the fact she was in the land of water when her mission was supposed to be in Takigakure." Kitama pointed out with a snicker, the older man finding the whole thing hilarious. He'd always had a soft spot for Tokara. Which Kaido had to admit he had as well, when she didn't irritate him to the point of homicide.


"Mistakes were made, you can't complain about the results." Mito argued with a pointedly raised eyebrow. "Samehada returned" She stressed. "Two Hozuki and four Yuki taken from Kiri and added to our future arsenal."


Mamoru, the clan leader of the Tokoro clan frowned at her, "You shouldn't talk about kids like that." He chided uncomfortably, understandably, as his clan currently constituted two thirds of kids one third of teenagers and adults.


Hikama scoffed, "You're lucky so many see them as future weapons, instead of seeing children of invaders." Hikama had been the one least impressed with Tokara's report. The girl hadn't been let out of the Senju tent encampment since she returned.


Mito shrugged, "They've taken the seal." As far as she was concerned they were one of their own now. And although she felt for both Tokara and the children, she was a clan head and kunoichi first. And she couldn't argue against how useful the Hozuki and Yuki would be in the future. Uzushiogakure was by the ocean, the hydration and ice bloodlines were perfect for their own defenses.


"Only the fact Kiri had suddenly decided to explode and start killing themselves is stopping me from requesting the girl censured for her carelessness in risking compromising our return." Shinji said testily, the muscular Jounin commander had already banned the girl from any missions to the land of water for the next decade. He'd also begrudgingly added a completed S-rank mission to her file. Infiltrating a hostile nation, killing one of their most important Shinobi, returning a national relic, as well as bringing 6 bloodline capable children with her back. He honestly wanted to class the damn mission SS if they had such a rank.


"That is what we are here to discuss…" Kaido broke in, the mission was done, what had happened had happened. Now what they were to do next needed to be dealt with. "With the land of water falling into disarray do we try to take advantage?"


"Absolutely not!" Hikama said, slamming a palm down on the table for emphasis, "Uzukage-Sama, we were already almost discovered. It is simply not worth the risk!"


Kaido calmly nodded to the Senju clan head showing he'd take his opinion under advisement. His eyes slid to the rest of the gathering.


Kitama scoffed, leaning back in his chair, resting his creaky bones; he'd no doubt joke, if it wasn't a serious council meeting. "I'd say it's foolhardy business if I wasn't already sure you've made up your mind already."


Mamoru shook his head, "This has bad idea written all over it." Yet he leaned back in his seat and didn't argue against it.


Shinji kept quiet, but his displeased frown showed his opinion and he had no doubt already tried to argue the question in private.


Mito smiled, saccharin sweet. "I'll follow whatever Uzukage-Sama wants of course." She tapped her sake cup with a well manicured finger. "If Inohana was here I'm sure she'd say the same, just with more innuendo."


Kaido nodded, "Normally I would agree with the majority opinion on this subject. However things have changed drastically in the last two months." He held up a finger, "One, there is never going to be a better time, Kiri is killing each other, clans attacking clans, civilians attacking clans, clans attacking civilians. The confusion is perfect to obfuscate our presence." He held up a second finger, "Two, we need more future Shinobi, skilled shinobi. And the land of water is currently mass producing orphans, including those with bloodline abilities." He raised a third finger, "Three, with Yui's discovery in the land of Snow we now have a tool that would make us indispensable to enemy and ally alike if our presence was discovered early. This war they are fighting across the elemental nations would make us better suppliers then enemies, for a time." He raised a fourth finger, "Fourth, with Kiri in disarray and Konoha fighting on several fronts, two major villages are already taken off the field as likely enemies if we are exposed early, we can likely count out Suna as well due to geographic location and their tiff with both Iwa and Konoha keeping them busy. This leaves only Iwa and Kumo as likely enemies. Both are fighting a war, both will remember the losses they took against us if we are exposed. The signs are all lining up for us right now, if we wait, this war could finish and we'd have lost our opportunity."


"Well said, Uzukage-Sama, and of course there is the chance that any action in Kiri will be taken as enemy action from the other major villages or as rebels. And not as the dead Uzumaki village." Mito said, providing support.


"Well, you can't argue with that," Kitama stated bluntly, although Hikama's and Shinji's expressions said they would if the decision hadn't already obviously been made. "Now more to the point, what exactly are we going to be doing in water?"


"Recruiting." Kaido said simply. He waved a hand towards Tokara's mission report on the table. "We need Shinobi in the future, we have the teachers to train them, we need those orphans, if they have a bloodline all the better. If not, we'd still make something out of them. And loyalty won't be a problem, even if we didn't have the seal, kids being saved from being starved, raped, abused and killed is going to be loyal to us to begin with. As an added bonus, we are strong in water affinity, so we won't have much issue teaching children from the land of water, their affinity is even more common there than it is for us."


"You've failed to mention how the population will feel about an influx of natives from one of our destroyers. Especially clans such as Hozuki." Hikama countered, still not sold on the idea.


Kaido acknowledged the Senju clan head with a tight nod, he wasn't wrong on that being a possible complication. "It will need to be monitored, the fact these will be starving kids being brought over and not adult Shinobi will mitigate that somewhat."


Mamoru ran a hand over his hair, sighing explosively, "Well, if it all works it's all well and good. It wouldn't hurt to eventually have another clan or two. We need to be careful on a timeline here, the population needs to know before we're bringing hundreds of brats over. There needs to be preparations, our medical division will be strained."


"Our supplies will be strained as well, we just moved our Shinobi off rations, they will not be well pleased to go back to them because of a bunch of mizu orphans." Hikama said icily.


Kaido would have to come up with something to throw the Senju as appeasement. Learning their clan had died in Konoha, refusing them the chance to go after Tsunade, now prioritizing foreigners. He could ill afford to alienate the Senju. Hikama was a steady man but a prickly one. He would not take constant failure to be heard well.


Shinji nodded, "Plans have been drawn up by the Strategic intelligence division for a one month, two month and three month plan. They have stressed that if put in motion, the three month plan before implementation is the most likely to achieve the effect we want with the general population and avoid a strain on supplies and medical personnel."


"Uzukage-Sama, is there any need to implement a timeline sooner then recommended?" Mito asked, as everyone around the table, grudgingly in Hikama's case, seemed to lean towards the longer wait time.


Kaido thrummed his fingers on the table as plans flitted through his mind. "No," He decided. "Kiri won't have peace for at least a year or two at the earliest. The timeline of 3 months is fine." And to be honest, he didn't think Kiri would settle down after that either. But he couldn't count on it for a strategy either.


"What about the swords? Or an opportunity to raid Kiri itself for its secrets?" Kitama asked with a shrewd look on his face. The Kawigaza clan would be the most impacted beneficially by adding more jutsu to the village, having no bloodline abilities. And on average being very skilled Kenjutsu users, were the most likely recipients of the seven swords.


Shinji made an aborted movement to protest, but Kaido stopped him with a raised hand, "That will not happen." He said firmly, allowing his Jounin commander to relax slightly. "Kiri has lost the strongest of the seven swords. Anytime we would see a possibility of acquiring another, it would doubtlessly be a mirage, a trap, to try and catch those that stole Samehada. That is what I would do in such a situation." He explained to Kitama who looked slightly mullish.


"Any infiltration or attack on Kiri itself might band them together and stop this civil war. The risk is not worth it, we're already risking too much." Shinji finished for his Kage with a firm voice.


Kitama acknowledged the point and they all enjoyed some sake and refreshments for a few minutes before moving on to the next topic, everyone already drawing up plans in their head for what to inform their clans of about the influx of orphans and the further plans for the land of water. While Kaido thought of what he could offer the Senju to soothe Hikama a bit.


"Now… The land of snow and their minor village." Kaido said slowly, shaking his head wondering how they had never thought of an automated seal press. Sure, someone had to still be there to insert chakra into the process, but it was still many times quicker than drawing up a seal tag.


"We need to take them in, the sooner the better. By force if necessary." Mito said sharply, surprising the others at the table. "Oh, don't give me those looks, the things they're doing with chakra armor and this seal press is absolutely revolutionary, and it's mostly civilians working on it. We absolutely can not allow any of the other villages to take this opportunity from us!"


"Teaching civilians chakra theory and letting them put their ideas into motion, no village would have ever thought of something like it, not even us." Mamoru said with a chuckle, "I guess they didn't have the manpower to have their Shinobi waste time being researchers."


Shinji lent forward, "I have already sent feelers out to civilians within Uzushio with expertise in sciences. Our research and development division has already enthusiastically supported this after seeing the work the seal press is capable of."


"Is that necessary if we are to incorporate the hidden glaciers research department?" Hikama asked, having always been a warrior first, politician second, he had never put much stock in sciences, civilian or Shinobi.


Mito pursed her lips, "it might lead to an overly large research division for a while, but our own citizens might have ideas that hidden glaciers have never thought of because of our own unique experiences with seals."


"Everyone is getting ahead of themselves, hmm?" Kitama said jeeringly. "I for one would have fought to the death happily rather then see defeat, or even imagined joining another village. What says we achieve anything but hidden glacier's destruction and some cowed prisoners forced to work for us?"


"A valid point." Kaido said, "This is why I intend to enter negotiations with their head ninja myself, on location."


He smiled wryly as every single one of his inner circle predictably exploded and all made strong objections. Coming up with a multitude of reasons why he should obviously not ever go into hidden glacier personally. Eventually he put his foot down and quieted all objections, he was the Kage. And he would be going. This was too important now to risk failing.


The seal press itself was too useful a tool to fall into enemy hands. He'd put the entire village to the sword himself if he had to take that step, as much as it felt like a betrayal of who they were. They could not allow such a useful machine to become common practice.


Already their own researchers had been able to build another press able to make a basic medical seal. All their Shinobi would be able to carry multiple medical seals with them on missions. And for a cost of practically nothing. This was revolutionary. This was worth he, himself, risking himself, to ensure success. Besides, he couldn't let Inohana have all the fun!


＊＊＊


Inohana hummed cheerfully to herself as she copied the scrolls in the Yamanaka vault, in the deepest part of their archive, holding their clan secrets from now to centuries back.


There was something deliciously naughty about walking around naked in the innermost sanctum of a clan compound. Her fingers covered in ink as she kept making copying seals to seal away another copy of a Yamanaka scroll.


Most of the Yamanaka were gone as there had been a push from Iwa into the land of fire, Inoichi had been left behind due to a "training injury" which was simply Inohana injuring him to the point of him staying out of the front, to be her key to the inner sanctum of the Yamanaka.


The poor guy was sitting against a wall, pants down, a silly smile on his face. Trapped in a Genjutsu where he believed they were still going at it. Inohana was a dutiful kunoichi, she'd only gone back for another round twice.


Okay so maybe it was three times, she thought with a mischievous smile on her face. If they didn't execute him for treason he'd make some girl very lucky one day. All his memories of her had already been changed to make Inohana take on the dusky skin of a kumo native.


Which really wouldn't look good for the poor guy falling in love with her. Letting her into the clan compound and the archives because she could suck dick would really really not look good for him. Oh well, not her problem anymore. She twirled around in excitement, hugging the last scroll to her naked chest. Then sealing it away. She'd completely nailed this mission. She'd verified Kushina-chan was still alive, definitely was the new Kyuubi jinchuuriki and was currently a Chuunin. And unfortunately seemed very loyal to Konoha, with a good relationship with a Konoha Jounin and close relationship to Sarutobi.


She got dressed quickly, before crouching down and giving Inoichi-kun a pat on the cheek. "I hope they don't kill you, I had fun, sorry for you know, fucking you over." She left the archives, wrapping the water jutsu around herself that turned her invisible, just as a precaution, she wouldn't try and exit as an impersonator this time. She slowly walked to the very edges of the Yamanaka compound before sinking into the earth with an application of Doton chakra. Moving slowly to the edges of the village.


The seals she had for avoiding the barrier corps were enough to avoid anything but a dedicated Hyuuga staring straight down the ground. An unlikely occurrence as the village had most of its competent Shinobi out fighting now, ANBU and Uchiha military police stretched thin in looking after the village.


She frowned as her head poked out into a dimly lit corridor. She was well enough underground that there shouldn't be any tunnels. There had been nothing on the classified maps Inoichi-kun had been able to get her, nor on any of the Yamanaka maps of the underground that were in the archives.


She crawled through completely and fell to the ground, landing on light feet, sending out a sensing probe with the tightest leash on her chakra. Wriggling her nose at the weird sensation she got back. There didn't seem to be any Shinobi around. There was definitely something in the room at the end of the corridor however. She bit her lip, she carried a treasure trove of information on Konoha and on the Yamanaka's, could she risk poking her nose into something else right now and possibly get caught? In the end her natural curiosity won out and she crept forward carefully.


The sight of the room almost had her vomiting right there. There were rows and rows of tanks, dead toddlers and babies in every tank. Dissection tables spaced here and there with rotting carcasses of children. Inohana moved through the space with horror, Konoha was doing this? Why? What in the name of the sage could be worth this? She looked around for any files or papers to explain this lab, but found nothing. Then she felt it again, that which had drawn her to the lab. A faint signature of something.


She moved slowly, a hand resting on her kunai pouch. Eyes flitting back and forth, expecting something horrible to leap out at her. What she found was worse in a way. She stumbled, eyes wide, her heart beating fast in her chest. She felt sick. Horrified. Angry! There in a tube in a dark corner, a still living small child, a tree growing out of his shoulder. Konoha was experimenting on children! On Senju children to bring out the Mokuton! Hikama would… Oh dear. Hikama would want to start a war over this…


She huffed, to be honest, she kind of wanted the same right now. Is this what Konoha had done with the Senju, turning them into experiments for the Mokuton, discarding those that didn't work? Disgusting.


She would have to change her escape strategy. It would be much harder now, a small child needing possible medical care coming with her had not been part of the plan. But she could not leave him here in some kind of stasis, waiting for Konoha to notice one of their experiments succeeded. She couldn't leave him behind. He was Senju. He belonged in Uzushio.


She had work to do. And she'd need a lot of seals to cleanse this entire lab in fucking fire so Konoha never could get anything out of this horrendous lab again.


＊＊＊


The planning for the trip to the land of snow had started immediately and with every step scrutinized heavily and every scouting report received about the elemental nations gone over with a fine tooth comb.


No one wanted to risk the journey drawing attention from any of the 5 major villages. So the party had to be small and fast moving. Yet at the same time they could not risk losing their Kage due to being overwhelmed by numbers if they encountered a war party.


Kaido mostly sat and did paperwork bemused at the frantic stress his subordinates were building up over the situation. Unless he ran into someone like Orochimaru or one of the Kage - he doubted he would risk losing his life on this journey. And he had a fair few surprises that he felt would take him over the top over Orochimaru for sure and one or two of the Kage, perhaps. Either way the likelihood of running into Orochimaru when he wouldn't be anywhere near the land of fire, or one of the Kage randomly being out and about, was absolutely minimal, and really all this worrying was unnecessary.


He wondered if he should tell them he'd already picked his bodyguards for the mission or let them continue going over files while stressing about affinity compatibility and chakra reserves, who was their best medic with field experience and such.


He highly doubted hidden glacier would be a problem. Their homebound nature while yet remaining almost completely secluded from their own nation hinted at a village more interested in research and their own development than in international renown and missions.


As far as his spy had been able to discern, hidden glacier did not even participate in any of the Chuunin exams. He had enough to offer to catch their interest, security and safety to lure them in. Threats of the war coming to their door soon, worst case the warning that if they couldn't have glacier they'd leak their location, an empty threat as he'd destroy them himself before allowing their knowledge out.


There would of course be the usual ninja paranoia, but glacier was mostly genin and Chuunin with a large civilian population for such a hidden location. The population had a lot more say then in the normal dictatorships of the Shinobi system. Basically he'd bribe the shit out of them if he had to. This wasn't a village with 40-50 years of traditions like the major villages, as far as they could tell hidden glacier had been created some 20 years ago. Quite an advancement they had made in research in such a short amount of time compared to what other villages had managed.


And soon they would be his…



＊＊＊


Well that was long, hopefully one or two of you managed to get through that slog and didn't hate it.


Cheers

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

So another snippet that I'd whipped out when I was following Naruto fanfiction a bit, the ever so common - let's take over Uchiha Sasuke SI fic.


Of course I twisted just a little my way, since I do dislike doing anything normal. Although the whole Konoha was mean to the Uchiha plot point has been done to death - sorry for the common trope!


This SI gets a little deluded, completely falling into the idea of Uchiha culture and history and honoring them, so a little bit of a fanon nerd and weeb.


It starts with some description of the Uchiha Massacre, so some light graphic descriptions be aware.


Hope someone finds it enjoyable as a little snippet.


＊＊＊


Uchiha Sasuke, or what used to be classified as Uchiha Sasuke and is now… Whatever I count as - stood lost, staring blankly ahead at the house in front of me. The compound is silent as a grave, fitting indeed, as everyone is indeed very dead.


The blood stains might have been cleaned up, the bodies removed. I could still see it all if I bothered to look around, like ghostly after images. Itachi's parting gift ensured I forever remembered every stroke of his blade, every clan member's death, the place of their murder, every stain…


My young cousin who was barely able to walk, stabbed through without mercy as I saw life bleed out of his eyes… The old couple that would sneak me food, beheaded without care while begging for their grandchildren's lives - dying with the horrible knowledge their kids would join them.


The beauty and horror around me in the sprays of blood that were painting the walls and ceilings of my clan's living space - it was like a simple painting almost - after the 200th or so repetition, the stroke of a master artist, the spray hitting just so, painting an image for me.


What am I even thinking, no wonder Sasuke was so incredibly fucked up. Fuck Itachi! I think angrily, although it's a distant anger, emotions are hard right now…


I had barely been able to function after awakening from the nightmare, the feelings and terror so fresh, even though I hadn't technically gone through it myself, thankfully.


I don't know how I got here, but I am extremely thankful I got here after Sasuke was mindraped. I was still confused and terrified and reeling from the emotional overload waking up…


I had refused to answer the probing questions of nurses and doctors and eventually, as my intransigence became worse - questions from what I recognized as members of torture and interrogation.


My tiny fists clenched and my breathing picked up as I remembered being forced to suffer through another violation, this time as me, a Yamanaka peering through my head, trying to find out what I knew. Itachi and his crimes were vastly more important than my mental wellbeing, despite the fact he'd been officially sanctioned.


The Hokage still had no issue making me suffer, it seemed.


Somehow, to my no doubt perceptible relief - none of my previous life was discovered, or so was my assumption as there was no trip to T&I for me on my first day, that is always good, right? Not being tortured on day one, if one discounts the mind invasion…


The Hokage had come by soon after and tried to smooth things over, acting genial and saddened, or perhaps he even was - but I still knew he'd pluck my eyes out himself if he thought at any point it would serve Konoha better.


It's hard to forget just how many people he killed in his lifetime, how many villages he wiped out - or gave orders to have them wiped out down to the last child… It doesn't exactly bring comfort to think of.


They might claim to be the nice village but it's mostly a position they can take because they've annihilated enough other villages to show the strength to call themselves anything they wanted.


Konoha comes first in everything. I am nothing in comparison - same with everyone else in Konoha.


Unless I was his darling Orochimaru, apparently what's best for Konoha doesn't cover his favorite student…


Orochimaru didn't exactly hide his peculiarities very hard, he didn't have to, Sarutobi didn't even notice he was in Root, or if he did, he somehow didn't care, or blame Danzo when Orochimaru went nuts - but of course Danzo got a free pass always too.


At that point I couldn't have cared any less what he was saying. I was busy dealing with the most annoying thing about these memories, these feelings…


I wasn't really Sasuke after all. Somehow Uchiha Sasuke had died inside the Tsukiyomi and I had taken residence in his head, not even remembering how I died or got here - but with a life and memories from another reality. Which was jarring with the memories and feelings from what used to be the Uchiha Sasuke.


A character from an anime… How is this even my life right now? And of all the people I'm slotted into… It had to be the head of snake bait Sasuke, mind rape my mind again nii-san, pretty please, Sasuke.


Someone who's basically going to be buttfucked by S rank ninja for years. Lovely, just… Lovely. So yes, Sarutobi Hiruzen's fake or real sympathy wasn't really high on my list of priorities right now. Luckily, complete disregard for polite conversation was seen as a natural consequence of being mind raped, so I was left to be soon after.


Or it could be it was seen as quintessential Uchiha behavior, either way it worked, and it was all I cared about.


As soon as all the tests and poking and prodding of nurses and med nins were completed, I requested to be allowed to leave the hospital and go home. I needed to think, to freak out, and preferably not be near any more Yamanaka.


An ANBU dropped me off soon after, and that's where I stood now. Not at my own home, Sasuke's home. The incompetent ANBU had dropped me off at Sasuke's/my cousin Shisui's home… I suppose I'd have to really just start thinking of myself as Sasuke, I didn't need a split personality developing by trying to be a separate person, for all I know with chakra that would actually happen. Just look at Sakura and whatever the hell Inner was.


Did I want another me inside my head? One based on the original Sasuke…? Yeah... Hell no to that!


Eventually tired of just standing there I let a tired breath out and moved forward. At least I had no memories of my family being cut apart in this house. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise.


My hand tensed as I opened the door, Shisui had died right before the massacre… I leaned my head against the door frame, would picking this home have consequences?


Surely Danzo and the Sandaime wouldn't be looking into every little detail of what I chose to do? Would picking Shisui's house show a difference from deciding to brave the main house? I personally did not have any problems with the main house - Sasuke would have gone through hell if that's where he chose to stay though.


Even with his memories and feelings resonating strongly in me, I felt I could handle it… Eventually. The memories would stop right? Of blood flashing across my face, of the thousands of sounds made upon a thousand deaths... As the last Uchiha I probably should be in the clan head's home if I was staying in the compound…


It was probably expected anyway.


I turned and trekked away, memory leading my feet on the familiar path. I might be a bit paranoid, but I knew what a bastard Danzo was, I knew Orochimaru would probably be getting reports on me soon enough, and the Sandaime wasn't much better.


His treatment of Naruto really seemed a lot like a plot to train him to be loyal to the Hokage and the leaf no matter what, through isolation and idolization of the Sandaime.


There's just no way not a single family in all of the leaf, nor a single Shinobi in all of Konoha, couldn't have taken him in. That mass refusal could only happen if people were ordered not to.


It wouldn't even have to be a clan Shinobi - if the whole Jinchuuriki under the power of a clan thing - was the excuse why none of the clans could help him. Keeping the jinchuuriki loyal to the Sandaime and Konoha above all else worked out perfectly in canon with an almost completely isolated Naruto. I refuse to believe someone called the god of Shinobi and the professor - just happened to achieve that accidentally.


Besides he already counted as an asshole for fucking up the whole Uchiha clan thing so badly. And yes, for me, personally, being left alone was a blessing in disguise as shitty as it all was - it didn't make it any better handled.


I needed to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do now and deal with the fact I am now Uchiha Sasuke. Privacy was really welcome at the moment as wrong as it was. Letting a traumatized, mindraped seven year old - go live in the home his brother murdered his parents in - without any therapy, assistance or caretaker, was just unconscionable.


I guess in the fucked up thinking of the Shinobi world, I was considered a big boy now that I've gone through my first massacre, so just living on my own is cool. Fucking old ass monsters with no empathy or care. Again, I prefer it due to my situation, but boy is it ever fucked up.


I entered my home and my body almost on autopilot went into a quick prayer. Ameratsu guide their souls in heavenly fire. Susanoo give me strength to carry on and make my clan proud, Tsukiyomi bless my eyes so that I can avenge us… I prayed as I entered the main hallway.


The three gods all Uchiha believed in, that they had always followed since their inception. The gods that had blessed them in fire, gave them the Sharingan. I would have to ask where the bodies were stored… There were rituals involved in the death of an Uchiha, ones I had been taught since I was old enough to walk. To give their bodies and souls back to our gods.


I shook my head, snapping myself out of that little episode, feeling like some loose cobwebs were being shaken out of my brain. I definitely needed time to settle into my new body and life - if that kind of thing could happen in places that resonated strongly with my memories.


And I don't remember anything about gods in the setting from my old point of view, although I suppose it wasn't very important possibly for the canon mess, and Sasuke wasn't exactly deeply conversational with anyone ever. Unless it was a rant about power. Yet here and now I remember Sasuke being taught by Mikoto and taken to the shrines by Itachi.


Well the bodies were probably missing some eyes… But I should get those rituals done, if nothing else in honor of the real Sasuke who's body I somehow stole, even if he was an asshole. In my new/old memories, the rituals of the clan and the worship - were all pretty important and intrinsic to the whole clan culture. The least I could do was to continue them.


My lips curled, I'd have to ask for a meeting with the Hokage after all. This was going to go well…


＊＊＊


I had expected to be stonewalled for a while in seeing the military dictator of the village, after all they did just have an emergency, even if only a rare few knew it wasn't Itachi going insane - but a kind of official order.


The Sandaime let Danzo get away with anything, so as far as I was concerned, it was official and with Kage approval, since he did jack to actually get rid of Danzo for 'treason' - then it wasn't treason was it?


I probably should have waited to feel more in sync with my emotions and memories before I went to see someone I heavily disliked, and someone responsible for things that were anathema to the memories and feelings of Sasuke.


What can I say? Being transferred into another body with the memories of a massacre, did not make for a settled mind in the end.


…


"What do you mean it was already taken care of!?" I bite out between clenched teeth, staring at the old man sitting behind his desk, staring at me over steepled fingers. I was gripping the chair I was sitting in so hard I could feel wood cracking. To say my tone wasn't polite - was an understatement.


"I am truly sorry Sasuke-kun, but no one was sure if you were ever going to wake up again, your clan was all cremated, there was a village wide mourning period with the funeral." Sarutobi Hiruzen explained sadly.


I didn't trust a word out of his mouth or the projected sadness. No doubt Danzo told him he'd take care of it and old buttbuddy Sandaime happily let the problem out of his hands - like all the other fucking problems he ever saw.


"It's written in the agreement between the Senju and the Uchiha that only Uchiha are allowed to perform the burial rites for the clan." I shouted, eyes wild as I stood up suddenly, knocking my chair down, my emotions going wild, my dislike of the Hokage not helping me rein myself in as I was flooded.


I should have waited, I wasn't ready, the influx of emotions and memories were too much!


I screamed at the Hokage. "It's done for every Uchiha! They are laid on a pyre at the shrine for Ametaratsu. The Uchiha send them off in fire, as is our right from birth, given to us by the gods as we return to them in death! You had no right!" As I finish, my breathing is heavy and blood is trickling from my hands from how hard my fists were held, nails cutting into me.


I could feel myself start to calm down slightly as I desperately tried to hijack myself emotionally and stop before I did something even dumber than shouting at the Hokage. I wasn't Naruto, I wouldn't get a chuckle and a ramen feast. I needed to stop this!


And figure out if this flood of emotions and memories state - was temporary, or a continuous situation…


The Hokage calmly listened until the end before narrowing his eyes slightly, a feeling of imminent death pulling me completely out of my emotional state. I knew killing intent, Itachi had taught Sasuke very well in his torture in Tsukiyomi and I remembered it all.


I still scowled at the Hokage, unwilling to bend completely even with control back, but definitely regretting not waiting a few days, my shaking limbs and sudden silence the only sign of my weakness.


The only thing worse than pissing off a military dictator, was being a wuss when faced with the consequences, so I stood as tall as a seven year old boy could, suddenly very thankful it was the Sandaime and not Danzo in the chair. As much as I thought he was a shit Hokage, he wouldn't execute a kid for yelling.


"You've gone through a great deal, I understand your emotions are high right now, it cannot change things. What is done, is done. I signed the order myself." The finality of that statement hit hard, showing no care, no regret.


I almost shook in rage, but this time I was prepared and managed to hold on to my emotions, the fear helped, as I knew what he was capable of. I stood in silence as the venerable old Hokage slowly cleaned out his pipe, before adding some leaves to it and clicking his fingers to create a spark of flame.


He puffed away in the silence as I just stood there, shaking. The utter irrelevance of my existence compared to Naruto - or hell, any of the clans, of my clan's power laid bare in front of him. This old man could do whatever he wanted. I had no power in this world whatsoever…. Yet.


"Can I have the ashes at least." I finally managed to press out, somewhat politely, between thinned lips, a scowl still in place. I knew the eyes were stolen, but I could at least have honored the bodies… Now… Maybe the ashes would be enough, it would have to be enough. Sasuke believed in this culture… This lifestyle his clan had existed in for hundreds of years, long before there even were villages. I owed him at least this respect.


The Hokage shook his head slowly, "I am afraid everything has been disposed of already. Their ashes are buried under a new memorial stone commemorating the Uchiha." He didn't even look apologetic now, just watching me under bushy eyebrows, calculating. Reading my reactions, plotting out my whole future no doubt.


I bit my lip so hard blood ended up running down my chin in a thin trickle. I wanted to shout. I wanted to rail against the old bastard who had desecrated my clan's rights to their proper rites. Ruined my chance of in some way honoring Sasuke and his family. Somehow I hadn't just replaced Sasuke I knew now, there was still a part of him there, we were one.


I wondered in the dark recesses of my mind if the quick cremation and dumping of the clan's ashes was just a slight against the clan - or a part of the cover for robbing their bodies…


Me keeping the ashes wouldn't have revealed the eye theft, they could even have fake ashes and I wouldn't have known. Making a monument for a clan that had planned a coup stunk like mockery more than anything, and just what, dumping their ashes in a pile under a stone plinth in some far off training ground?


That's all the Uchiha deserved? Either way I couldn't say so, I'd already pushed too far by losing it in the first place, even if it was likely in character - especially if this bullshit happened in canon. I simply bowed my head stiffly at the frowning Hokage and walked out.


My clan, adopted or not, however you wanted to call this situation, had helped create Konoha. And all they got was their legacy and rights stomped on… With a memorial stone with their ashes dumped like garbage beneath it, a final insult.


I had been lamenting about how it was a wonder Sasuke wasn't more fucked up with how shittily things were dealt with. Now I was wondering how the fuck he made it to graduation without wanting to burn the village down.


＊＊＊


A few days later,


The good news was that after a few more days I finally felt seamlessly in control of my own body, both sets of memories and my emotions and chakra. Allowing me to fully be Sasuke without any more unplanned temper tantrums.


It also allowed me to finally, as the overtaking personality, dull the memories of the massacre. As horrific as it was to remember, it took some of the horror and emotional impact out of it to no longer feel the emotional connection to the people dying. I'd still honor them by being the best Uchiha I could be… Mostly to survive the shitshow that would come for me, but also because they honestly deserved better than what they got.


Other things only spiraled worse over the next few weeks. When I tried to hire teams for the maintenance of the Uchiha district I was informed the clan assets were frozen - I was given a regular orphans stipend instead.


The first time the check was given to me I stared at the shinobi who delivered the news in disbelief. The Uchiha clan was a wealthy clan after all. Centuries of being the highest paid, most sought after fighters meant they had much in both liquid and material wealth. The amount of riches in art, artifacts, cloth and jewelry we had was staggering.


That hadn't disappeared just because we joined in Konoha's creation. The audacity to after everything else, also withhold my clan's assets from me, just pissed me off further. Not even do the minimum to appoint a steward to manage it, just completely freezing it, leaving me with nothing but an empty district I couldn't take care of.


I totally understand not giving a seven year old a blank cheque, but to not have anyone oversee any of it at all, just let the district be, to rot and fail. That's just more pettiness - more of the same idea to put down the Uchiha because they could, the kind of thing that had led them to plot a coup in the first place, this disregard of their wish that they mattered or belonged.


I was told that although I technically was the clan head as the only survivor, I wouldn't be able to touch the assets until chuunin at minimum, or as a 16 year old, whichever came first.


When I pushed for an answer I got the expected, by order of the Hokage parroted back at me. I wondered if they hoped I'd get myself killed when I became a ninja, automatically reverting the fortune and the district to Konoha with the clan's extinction.


Eventually I had grudgingly admitted to myself there was such a thing as too much paranoia. After all, they could easily sneak in at night and dispose of me and just claim Itachi returned to finish the job if that's what they were after.


It was probably Konoha bureaucracy behind it all, now used to fucking the Uchiha after a couple years of it - and simply continuing it without an order to stop, now that the clan was practically gone. Or it was Danzo fucking with me to make me desperate. If I was really Sasuke from canon, this would have all definitely turned me into the angsty angry little fuck he was.


Whatever part of him that resided in me now, that I had subsumed, I felt sorry for.


The orphan stipend was enough for me to eat and clothe myself, although not generously in either case. I had a whole district to worry about however. I ended up being forced to beg my academy sensei to teach me how to make sealing scrolls.


With the tragedy of the massacre and my top student credentials luckily working for me in convincing the man, even if I was still off from the academy for the rest of the month.


My Sharingan, awakened in the massacre, was used for the first time, not to copy jutsu but to copy seals, to perfect calligraphy to the point I could safely create storage scrolls. The first few weeks of my solace spent going around the compound, sealing art pieces, family heirlooms and weapons, banners and weaves detailing Uchiha fights of old, anything worth keeping really. Since I couldn't afford the money to keep the district in shape, nor the time to do it myself. I saved everything important in the scrolls.


I hid the scrolls away in each of the shrines to Ameratsu, Susanoo and Tsukiyomi. In spaces that were only visible to those with the Sharingan. Denying access to outsiders with sealwork way above my understanding - In the end, only the shrines, my house and the nearest training ground, would be maintained.


All of it was done by myself, Konoha entirely uncaring and distant. I wondered whether they had discussions on taking the whole district from me too, if people like Danzo had argued for it, who had argued for me? I wondered. The clans perhaps? As a just in case, if they ever ended up in the same situation, no doubt. Doubtfully such a decision was done for my benefit.


I made sure to pay my respects to the gods every night before bed, I'd need all the help I could get, and why not? The Uchiha have believed in them for hundreds of years, and until now it had worked pretty well for them. And I was alone... I carried the entire Uchiha legacy on my shoulders. And I knew how fucked the world was going to be shortly. I'd need to be stronger then Sasuke had managed in canon. And considering how fucked that all had ended up being - that meant insanely strong.


＊＊＊


I quickly ran into some problems in trying to get stronger - the Academy for one was pretty much useless. It was moving at the pace of what the civilian born could handle - no more early graduations available after the massacre.


Just in time to deny me the chance of course. I just took yet another hit with bitter acceptance and continued to work myself to death every evening - after having wasted my time all day on history and taijutsu practice. Fighting against twig civilians, who wouldn't have given a four year old Uchiha a workout. Working on lessons I was already so far ahead in, compared to most of my classmates, that it made the lessons themselves pointless.


Thanks to the Sharingan, I could enter the Uchiha clan archives, which had their repository of scrolls on everything from history and journals of Shinobi from the warring clan era - to scrolls on Ninjutsu, Genjutsu and Taijutsu and other Shinobi arts.


For one brilliant moment I had thought I had everything I needed handed to me. It quickly became clear why Sasuke had never been able to use most of this in canon.


I could use barely anything from it. The information stored was of skills so above my level that I could barely even understand it, most assuming a level of capability in its reader that made understanding the scrolls impossible without first obtaining the skills necessary to understand it.


I didn't have the advanced chakra theory, affinity theory and chakra system knowledge to even begin to try some of the jutsu, definitely didn't have the chakra capacity. I concluded that lower level jutsu and knowledge was meant to be taught in person, only higher skills were saved in the archive.


Why save Genin level skills for posterity after all, everyone gets taught that anyway by their family. All of this would be helpful once I was a Jounin, but was hardly helpful now. I found a couple scrolls on chakra control exercises and meditation, as well as scrolls for the Uchiha Taijutsu style - the interceptors fist.


That however, was it for immediately useful knowledge. I'd have to dig deeper into the chakra theory scrolls when I could understand enough to get anywhere with it. I of course knew about tree walking and water walking and in these first few weeks I conquered both.


And of course I kept training at it everyday to continue to hone my chakra control as well as to grow my capacity, by constantly using my chakra. It still felt stifling, I knew I could do more then continued chakra control and physical exertion - yet I was being hindered and pushed down.


I had the Sharingan of course, which opened up another avenue of getting stronger, but I doubted the Hokage would take kindly to me going around copying jutsu and Taijutsu styles.


Considering the insults that had been thrown at the clans feet already - I did not hold hope for a good response if caught out. The limitations were binding me, forcing the district to eventually rot - forcing me to stagnate.


It was like they were testing me to see how much I could take before I would lash out completely. It would really piss me off if this was all some convoluted loyalty test, to see if I'd settle down into a good little orphan Uchiha. Or if I was going to lose it and strike back. I guess canon me just become an antisocial asshole instead of fighting back or figuring a way around all these insults.


The Sharingan was too valuable of a tool to discard, I needed to use it. Spying on genin teams training would be too risky however. I knew there was no chance of me evading a Jounin yet. Not to mention any potential ANBU spies keeping an eye on me outside of the compound.


In the district I was safe, I had activated the boundary seals that told the Uchiha when someone else entered their district. So I'd know if someone spied on me at home. It was based on chakra of course, which wasn't always a perfect system. That said, surely a Jounin or ANBU level shinobi wouldn't have gotten that far on Genin level or below - chakra. So I'd still be warned if someone strong entered the compound. They'd hardly send civilians to spy, they'd stand out in this dead district too easily.


It had taken me an embarrassingly long time to come up with a somewhat acceptable solution. The Academy had finally been good for something… They had all received a short lecture on the Genin corps - the backbone of the village system. The soldiers that performed all the drudge work, courier duty and many desk bound duties of the village.


It had been an offhand comment from my sensei, about the Genin corps not being able to train as easily as the rest of the forces - due to having the last pick of training grounds. A subtle hint to his student to push them to be better than a future Genin corps member. A meaningless push, since it was practically pre ordained which clan kids would get a Jounin - with the rest of the chaff never getting that far and wouldn't be seen again. So most likely ending up as dropouts or transfers to the Genin corps.


It gave me an idea. So the next day after the academy was finished and I had dodged a Naruto paint bomb without even trying - ignored several requests to walk me home by creepy girls… And yes, no matter how I look at it, 7-8 year olds should not be as creepy about "love" as these kunoichi - to be - girls are.


I made my way to the Chuunin administration office, not to be confused with the Hokage tower administration office. That's where the mission desk and all the important stuff was. This is where the low level bureaucracy started long before you could even get to the Hokage tower with a request. Manner by the career desk Chuunin who got a promotion based on their paperwork skills more then anything else. If anywhere dealt with the Genin corps on a leadership basis - it probably started somewhere here, or the paperwork for it did at least.


Entering the building reminded me of the first time I ever entered the DMV. It was bland and boring, purposefully generic looking with a multitude of desks, lines and people who looked like they'd do anything not to be here.


Mostly civilians were lined up, as this is where you went to request those ridiculous D-rank missions. These paper pushers would write up the mission, outline the parameters and take payment, and then send the scrolls off to the Hokage tower for the mission desk to look over, approve and then use to torture Genin. Or I suppose to give Genin corps members something to do for some money.


I made sure to line up in a queue for administrative purposes, and then waited a soul crushing hour and a half before I finally made my way to the front, a pale kunoichi with washed out blond hair and dark bags under her eyes giving me a skeptical look. I couldn't exactly blame her. Not many seven year olds had business with administrative issues.


"Can I help you?" She said somewhat condescendingly with a raspy voice of someone that either smoked a lot, or fucked up a fire jutsu in the buildup process.


"I need a meeting with whoever oversees the Genin corps." I said firmly, but politely, making sure to maintain eye contact.


She looked at me skeptically, tapping a nail on her clipboard. She pursed her lips, "Need is a big word Uchiha-san. The Genin corps does not deal with academy students."


"I have a proposal for them, and I will need to speak with whoever is in charge." I reply back, trying to remain polite even in facing her obvious condescending attitude.


She rolls her eyes and sighs, "Whatever, it's not my problem in the end." She mutters, she leans her head on her hand as she puts her elbow down on the desk, looking tired and stressed, "Look kid, you'll need to see Haruka for anything to do with the Genin corps alright, it's not my department." She waves a hand lazily in the other direction down the desks, towards a spindly Chuunin with glasses with another long line ahead of him.


I grit my teeth and bow my head slightly, "Thank you for your assistance." I mumble out. Leaving before she can answer me or before I can ask her why she can't be a little more helpful.


This turns out to be the nicest interaction I have over the next four hours as I get shuffled from desk to desk, sent to a Genin corps member who in no way runs the division - who then sends me to a Chuunin who sends me back to the first Chuunin I spoke with. Who then tried to send me to frigging Nara Shikaku who as the Jounin commander does technically count as the boss of all the Shinobi… But I seriously doubt he runs the Genin corps personally. And I also severely doubt any chances of me getting in to see him, Uchiha name or not, especially with a request that so obviously has nothing to do with him!


I'm ready to start sending out some fireballs when a cute red haired kunoichi in her late teens and wearing a Chuunin vest, stops me and tells me that the councilor in charge of the Genin corps will see me now.


I follow the kunoichi into the Hokage tower, making me twitch slightly as apparently I had underestimated the importance of the Genin corps commander. Maybe I would have gotten further sooner if I had just bugged the mission desk about it. I'm led to a door on the second floor and the kunoichi stops me with one hand and gives me a serious look.


"Now I don't know what you want or why he is humoring you, but you'll treat Homura-Sama with respect, understood?" She says sharply, giving me a smile at my quick nod. She opens the door as I realize I've gone into deeper waters then I had imagined. When I had heard the word councilor I hadn't imagined it would be one of the 'three'. Those always vilified in fanfiction council members and the Hokage's closest advisors. Why was Mitokado Homura in charge of the Genin corps? And was this good or bad for me?


…


The meeting lasted all of three minutes, I was given permission to negotiate with Genin corps teams for use of the training grounds in my compound, so I got what I wanted..


It just felt weirdly easy in the end, and it didn't sit right with me…


＊＊＊


Two days after the meeting I had offered the Genin corps four of the more distant training grounds in the Uchiha compound, the ones at the edge. Allowing them to enter the compound only for travel back and forth from the training grounds - and only the Genin corps. This gave me people to spy on with my Sharingan that I could hide from, no Chuunin or Jounin to catch me.


Besides, even if they did… They'd see it as unofficial payment for the free use of training grounds anyway.


Granted they weren't exactly the cream of the crop. But every Genjutsu or Ninjutsu I could grab ahold of was precious. And while lacking in massive ninjutsu reserves, the Genin corps had by necessity of less personalized teaching - gone the extra length in weaponry and Taijutsu. I learned every trick of how to throw weaponry perfectly, how to maneuver wire with chakra, my Sharingan taking everything in perfectly. The brutality of the trauma of the massacre plus my dimensional transplant having awoken the full, three tomoe Sharingan.


It was not something I could use for long, but long enough was good enough for now.


The Genin corps might not be Itachi's level. Yet for the most part, those that actually utilized the training grounds were more like bargain bin Chuunin than Genin. Just lacking the opportunity for promotion given to those clan born or Jounin taught. I learnt a lot just listening as the Genin chattered - some in their twenties, full of tricks and cheats they shared with their younger corps members. They handled most of the actual work in Konoha proper and the outlying communities. They learned many ways and small jutsus that simplified things, whether for travel, hiding, working or training.


Maintenance… That was the Genin corps. Sewer system, courier runs, archives, guard duty, and desk jobs in all the departments of Konoha. Even including hospital work minus the nurses and doctors, all Genin corps. At times I was too exhausted to use my Sharingan, my young body unable to keep it operational for very long, then I'd just listen. I'd take in the tips and tricks of veterans that had to scrape for every jutsu, for every mission or advantage. I learnt more from a few days in the training grounds than I had for the entire academy year.


I didn't have the chakra to really do much with any jutsu learnt anyway, so for now, I was happy with the ability to gain any knowledge that made me better than I was the day before.


And each night, no matter how exhausted I was, I'd light some candles for my family's souls, my gods, and for the promise that one day… Itachi… and the Hokage… Would pay. This I swore as my nails dug into his palms so hard that my blood dripped, another offering for Ameratsu, Tsukiyomi and Susanoo.


It might not have been my family in reality, not my gods.


But they were now.


＊＊＊


With my immediate need for training and improving myself, temporarily sated with the Genin corps solution - and whatever paltry information the academy slowly dished out piecemeal…


It was time to turn my attention elsewhere. The Hokage, out of pure spite for talking back to him or as some absurd loyalty test, had ensured I couldn't afford to maintain the compound.


The artifacts and other Uchiha heirlooms might be safe, but the buildings and the beautiful gardens that made this compound, Uchiha. It would be destroyed by neglect if I had to wait a possible 9-10 years to gain access to the clan finances.


I usually took to thinking on the problem as I practiced my Taijutsu, allowing myself to think as my body flowed through katas. I couldn't fight the Hokage on his decree... No one had stood up or defended the Uchiha, or even noticed their death until it was over. Which I found very suspicious, like impossible to explain suspicious - even the Hyuuga never saw a thing? Everyone wasn't in on the conspiracy surely...


No one had come in to defend me from losing control of the rites or the clan assets, for all I knew, the other clans were in on it and hoping for a nice big payout if I had any 'accidents' in training, or when I became a Genin.


So asking for help was out. The idea of going hands out, begging, to another clan… It repulsed me, it would show just how far the Uchiha name had fallen. I refused to allow that, someone needed to watch out for my family or the only thing still existing of theirs, the reputation.


I might be an imposter, but this was all I literally had…


I absolutely refused to demean my adopted ancestors more than they had already suffered. So I can't fight the Hokage, I can't get help from the clans… I grimaced as my muscles protested the limits I was pushing my body through. How I wished I could just relax and have some Mochi. But I couldn't… Because… Kami's sake Itachi, did you have to kill even the granny with the best sweets in Konoha!? Great, and now I was completely distracted.


Sweets on my mind taking over everything else. I guess I am still young…


I blew my bangs out of my face and distastefully realized I'd have to cut my hair soon. I started on my cool down routine, the orphan stipend wasn't plentiful - Yet, now that I had it on my mind, I really wanted something sweet.


"Just this one day." I muttered to myself as I went to have a quick wash - dressing myself afterwards, making sure the Uchiwa fan was proudly displayed. Konoha wasn't allowed to forget about my clan, even if I had to shove it down their throats everyday.


As always, walking around the compound just darkened my mood. The eerie silence... The spots where I clearly remembered relatives and civilians, Kami Itachi, why the civilians? How were they part of the coup? Killed by my lovely idiot of a brother... The blood had been cleared off but I could still see it in my mind, even as it didn't feel as real now.


I still hurried my steps, feeling as if the weight of his dead clan was pressing down on me. Their souls stuck until revenge could send them on. I soon arrived at one of the only non-Uchiha bakeries I'd ever visited. (Sasuke had anyway) It was just a small shop front at the bottom of an apartment building. Shisui had bought me some sweets from here once.


I sighed as I heard a commotion inside, hesitating at the door. I wanted something sweet, something to offset the taste of blood that always seemed to linger in the back of my throat in the compound. Yet… People, I thought uncharitably. I sighed and entered anyway, a little bell jingling as I did.


I tried to ignore the arguing as I picked out some cheap sweets I felt I could get away with this month - sending a few frowning glances at the commotion. An older white haired man with a weathered face, and with a gradually reddening face at that, was swearing and shaking his fist at a plump middle aged man.


He was just smugly standing there, as two girls tried in vain to calm their father? Employer? Realizing everything could be training I looked more closely, taking in the body language and actions. The one girl looked to be early twenties, plain by Uchiha standards, brown hair tied into a bun haphazardly, well worn apron, sensible clothes, rough fabric, patches. Meant to be worked in. Muscle definition in arms suggested baker, the light touch of one of her hands to the arm of the old man suggested familial relation rather than employee. I scrunched my nose up, or it indicated a really inappropriate relationship, I couldn't discount it as of yet.


The other girl seemed at most a few years younger than the first. Similar eye color and hair, although better taken care of, less worn - there were some similarities in facial structure that led me to believe she was a younger sister to the first woman. Just a touch of makeup, well taken care of nails, soft hands, style of dress more stylish and put together, more approachable. Likely runs the storefront.


As I practiced analyzing the civilians I walked closer to the counter to deposit my small hoard of sweets, and I twitched in annoyance as absolutely no one paid any attention to me.


This body's dead father could enter any room and immediately draw the attention of its occupants. I however couldn't even catch the attention of civilians when attempting to buy something in their own store. Was it a tallness thing? Or was I just not Uchiha enough? I moved to clear my throat when the old shop owner exploded on the other man.


"You can't do this Kentaro! Your father and I had a contract, we were practically family!" He spat out, looking absolutely incensed.


The other man, Kentaro obviously. Did not drop his condescending look as he simply raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "My father put too much stock into a dying culture." He looked around the shop, sneering at the bright colors and whirlpools across the walls. "Your problem, Hisuke, just like my father's, was this farcical adherence to Uzushio, which no longer exists!"


"Uzushio will never die as long as we keep it in our hearts, your parents understood this. Kentaro you were raised in the Uzushio quarters for Kami's sake!"


I had a brief flashback to memories of listening to some of the Uchiha elders' bitter complaints about the Hokage - when a swarm of refugees had descended on Konoha from Uzushio in the past ages ago, and as one elder had put it.. The poor, half mad masses of an inferior village got dumped into the district just outside the Uchiha clan compound.


I shook my head briefly, annoyed with myself. I'd wandered into the Uzushio district and hadn't noticed, despite the bright colors, murals and banners depicting the sea and the whirlpools everywhere. The homes and apartments and shops were all painted in reds and blues and other vivid colors. I needed to always be vigilant. I promised myself I would not zone out so pathetically again.


Kentaro scoffed, "Yes, the Uzushio quarters." He mocked. "The one…In Konoha, in case you haven't noticed."


"Father, no!" The older of the girls pulled back on Hisuke's arm, before the man could respond physically and no doubt worsen his situation.


Kentaro just shook his head, "Get with the times, we're Konoha now. No more swirls, water dancing or day of the dead. Those of us with sense have abandoned those old traditions. Assimilated into Konoha… And we can't be dragged down by you and your kind any longer. Your contract is terminated. And that's final!"


Hisuke, now held onto by one arm each by both girls, was shaking, he was that angry. I watched on dispassionately, annoyed that this was taking so long. I could feel the spark of an idea taking root. Would it work? My mind immediately started thinking of all the ways it could fail. And all the ways it was the solution to my problem.


This all worked its way through my brain quickly and before anyone else could continue the argument I piped in, "So you're getting evicted? That's great!"


Four pairs of eyes stared at me, mostly in surprise, they really hadn't noticed my presence at all.


"Do not make fun of my father!" The younger girl snapped out, cheeks flushed with anger.


I blinked and tilted my head slightly in confusion. "Ah, that might have been taken the wrong way. I just mean your eviction could potentially be beneficial for me."


Damn that didn't come out any better, talking to people is hard!


"Boy, out of respect for your recent loss I'm not tanning your hide, but you better have a point to this!" Hisuke growled.


I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling a bit flustered. Everything I was saying was coming out wrong. "I have an empty compound, including several bakeries or shops. One that will be a ruin in a decade, unless I find willing tenants to take care of the buildings in return for using them for cheap - until the Uchiha clan is repopulated." There, that was better I thought..


"Uchiha-Sama, my family has lately become one of the largest owners and developers of real estate in Konoha, we'd be honored to deal with this issue for you." Kentaro said quickly, a greasy smile pasted on his face.


"Kentaro…" Hisuke rumbled, a disgusted look on his face.


I scoffed loudly with derision, "I have been here for the last ten minutes. Not an inch of Uchiha land will go to a betrayer who'd turn his back on his family for money, I was talking to them, not you." I turned away from the disloyal man, turning to the small family of three. "Well?"


Hisuke grunted, "We don't have the money to start over new, young Uchiha." He admitted sourly. "Someone's been bleeding all the old country folk dry…" He sent Kentaro a piercing glare.


I couldn't care less about money, my stipend would ensure I was fed and clothed. I'd get the clan's assets when I became a Chuunin anyway. "What if your yearly rent is 1 Ryo? All I'd need from you is to keep the building you're living in, and the shop you're using, in good condition, and to keep it as is, preserving Uchiha land."


"Ah… Sorry Uchiha-kun…" The younger girl said hesitantly. "I don't mean to sound cruel. How are we to make a living?" I could hear the unsaid, when there's no one living there, that the girl hadn't dared to say.


I gave Kentaro a considering look, making the man perk up. "It sounded to me that this disloyalty spread to more than your shop, I would be willing to take in anyone else you know that have had similar issues. This would populate the shops and buildings again, same requirements. I want… I need the compound to stay in good condition." Kentaro's face grew darker and looked more sick than condescending, the longer I spoke.


"Child, you realize this would open up your clan compound? Yes, I believe any of us would find it agreeable to keep the aesthetic and repair of your land in good condition, but it would no longer act as a clan compound, for at least two decades. People would wander in and out, to shop or to visit. Can you handle that?" Hisuke said, in a much kinder voice, the redness having faded from his wrinkled and weathered face.


I inwardly shuddered at the idea of any civilian or Shinobi just wandering in, to shop, or to spy. I'd keep my house and Shisui's and the best training grounds, that would have to be enough. I couldn't fail the clan by letting their compound fall to ruin, or risk Konoha waiting for exactly that and then have the Hokage declare it all to be torn down for new development based on its dilapidated condition. "Yes, " I answered firmly, staring up into Hisuke's steely blue eyes. "For my clan, I can handle anything."


"I accept then, and I know dozens of people that would take the opportunity as well, no doubt more soon enough." Hisuke said, then with a measured look at me, he bowed his head slightly, "Uchiha-Sama." His daughter's following his lead.


Kentaro, who'd watched this entire interaction while looking increasingly more sweaty, spoke up again. "Hisuke, you can't go spreading this to everyone in the district! I can't compete with 1 Ryo in rent!" He argued with a wheedling tone to his voice.


Hisuke looked at him with a sad look in his eyes, "Your father would not have lost anyone no matter what rent someone else was offering. You've made your bed, now begone from my shop, it's still mine until the end of the month and you are not welcome here any longer."


Kentaro looked like he wanted to say more, but swallowed the words, likely understanding there was nothing he could do here. And rushed out of the store.


Hisuke looked after him and sighed deeply. "Sakura, go spread the news before that eel manages to lock them into a new contract by offering them a ten percent discount on their rent."


The younger daughter nodded her head firmly, "Right, I'll have word out in no time!" She declared, giving her father a kiss to the cheek, a hug to her older sister and a mumbled Uchiha-Sama to me, before she rushed out the door.


I put a hand on the sweets I had laid out on the counter, "I did actually come here to buy these, if it's still possible." I asked politely. Not sure now how to act with, where they vassals? Was I just a landlord?


Hisuke gave me a half smile and a kind look, "I think all things considered they're on the house."


＊＊＊


I had underestimated how desirable not only an offer of low rent was, but to live inside the compound was - even if it was clear from the beginning they'd all have to move out at some point decades ahead.


Although the Uchiha clan by the time they died had numbered just a few hundred, they had been more plentiful in the past, especially before the construction of Konoha, the clan compound reflected that size. And there was room for almost 2500 souls within the compound.


Once word got out, I was flooded with requests. Having only set out to take in those prior refugees that understood family and loyalty, I was chagrined to find out that I'd still have half the compound left to fill after I, with the help of Hisuke and a lawyer friend of his, set up the contracts and interviewed the Uzushio remnants.


It was a simple contract as I didn't need much from the residents. Keep the Uchiha property pristine and in the condition it is in, and do not do any major renovation without my permission. And they were all aware that once Uchiha were being born again, their contracts would be voided to make room on a case by case basis, with no avenue to protest or remain housed on Uchiha land without my approval.


Considering how long it would actually take to repopulate… Most people probably figured they'd be dead by the time they'd need to relocate…


Unfortunately, now every civilian with an eye on marrying their daughter to me, or every bum looking for a cheap place to live - was sending in applications. I hadn't been able to do more than his mornings warmup Katas for a week!


Currently I was sitting in the garden behind Shisui's house, dark bags under my eyes, sipping on tea as I went through applications with Hisuke and his daughters Sakura and Honoka.


"I recognize this one." I said, soaking in the warmth of the tea, the aroma refreshing me from this hell I had consigned myself to. "Uzumaki Naruto. It's that idiot from my academy class."


Hisuke stiffened slightly and I, who had been endlessly watching body language and micro expressions over the last week caught it immediately. "Don't tell me the idiot pranked your shop or something." I sighed, putting the application in the maybe pile casually.


I knew they likely knew about the Kyuubi, but I couldn't let them know that I knew.


Hisuke slowly reached over and moved it to the reject pile. I glowered at him through the steam from my tea. "I might not like the idiot, but I'm pretty sure he's an orphan, it wouldn't be the worst idea to have him spend his free time keeping things clean around here."


I don't particularly want him here, but it's interesting to see despite your heritage how you're denying him…


Hisuke looked severely conflicted as he chewed on his lip. I took it all in with interest. Raising an eyebrow in a silent question.


Hisuke hesitated, before slowly speaking. "If you place Uzumaki… In the same area as the Uzushio survivor's… You might see some heavy push back from the Konoha government." He said finally.


I hned thoughtfully. "Uzumaki was a Uzushio clan wasn't it?" I asked mock-curiously.


Hisuke winced, "Yeah… Yeah that's why!" He started slow and then rushed through the words like he'd been thrown a lifeline.


I let it go for now but took a mental note to pay more attention to Naruto to see if I could do something there, probably not as much as invite him over to live… The Hokage would definitely get involved in that.


"You have a lot of applications from the Genin corps." Honoka said sorting a pile, presumably entirely made of Genin corps applications.


I made an annoyed face, "They're already using the training grounds." I complained.


"Genin is probably more preferable then most civilian applications you have received, Sasuke-Sama." Sakura piped in. Her pile consisted almost solely of rejections.


"They'll also put more holes in the wall." I said, so done with this entire thing. Why had I thought opening up the compound was a good idea again?


"You know you don't have to fill to capacity. If you allow some of the Genin in, you could have their contract stipulate that they are responsible for maintaining the leftover empty buildings." Hisuke suggested. "With a hundred or two hundred Genin to fill out with what we have already you'd only have a couple hundred spots left empty. You could then fill them at your leisure while we and the Genin share the burden of keeping everything maintained."


I grimaced, not wanting to deal with it. "Fine, just, you do the interview and pick the Genin, or do a lottery for all I care. If they mess up they're out. I haven't trained properly for a week! And I have the Academy again in another week. I can't keep spending time on this." I finished somewhat mulishly.


Hisuke sent me an understanding look. I didn't like it very much, it was the kind of yes, you're seven years old and I expected this tantrum eventually - kind of look. I glowered at him.


"Before you go, a letter from the Hokage arrived this morning." Sakura cheerfully piped in with, blushing slightly as both myself and Hisuke glare at her. "I forgot!" She protested, she quickly slid it over to me who sniffed in annoyance and opened it, expecting protests and threats over opening up the compound.


I read it once. Twice. Thrice. And I still can't make any sense of it. I squinted at it as if to decipher any hidden meaning.


"Bad news?" Hisuke asked with forced casualness. I can see that he's somewhat tense. I can appreciate that someone other than me can see that the third Hokage is an absolute monster.


I frown at the letter, "No… I don't understand. It's congratulating me on helping those who have less, and for letting go of ghosts and opening the compound for the people of Konoha." It doesn't make any sense to me. The Hokage was the one who gave me no other choice if I wanted to keep the compound from deteriorating, what is the meaning of this… Praise? Where's the hidden insult? The trap? "I don't understand this." I finally admit.


"Isn't that nice?" Honoka asked, looking between the two of them confusedly.


"If the Hokage says you're doing good, then you're all set, Sasuke-Sama!" Sakura cheered.


Hisuke and I both gritted our teeth at the same time, Honoka rolled her eyes at us, "Honestly father, how have you infected Sasuke-Sama with your irrational dislike of the third already!?"


"It's not irrational." Hisuke grumbled, at the same time as I bit out, "There's a trick somewhere in this letter, I just have to figure it out. Maybe if I use the Sharingan…"


Hisuke joined me in another read through of the letter as Honoka and Sakura locked eyes and managed to roll them at the same time, with amused little smiles on their lips. Boys!


＊＊＊


That's a wrap!


Cheers

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

Just a snippet that came to mind. An SI where not a single part of the snippet is from the self inserts view. Worked on during lunch breaks and the like.


People in Brockton Bay are both having a much better - and much much worse time.


This is Worm, so warnings for possible death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.


Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.


＊＊＊


"Ames, please, I didn't mean to hurt him this bad, I promise it's the last one." Vicky begged, holding her hands together in a praying pose, her lower lip slightly trembling.


Amy sighed wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Yeah, that's what you said about the other four, the last one would have died if I hadn't gotten there in time, Vicky." Yet even as she said it, she moved towards the thug bleeding out on the pavement, a partially crushed rib cage the sight of Glory Girls over eagerness. "Shit, Vicky, this one would have died too! You have to stop this!" She groaned, kneeling down, not bothering to ask the unconscious man for permission to heal.


Vicky floated dejectedly a few inches off the ground, rubbing one arm self consciously, "Yeah… I just don't know my own strength sometimes." She chuckled self deprecatingly.


"Panacea, Glory Girl. Mind explaining this situation?" A sharp voice rang out.


Both girls' heads snapped up to the entrance of the alley, where several fully kitted out PRT troopers stood, rifles pointed down, but available, as they assessed the scene, their full head coverings giving the girls no idea what they thought of what they saw.


Victoria flashed a brilliant smile, her aura coming to the forefront full bore, love me, "Heya guys, just found someone heavily injured and got Ames to come save 'em, business as usual!"


"Don't let us stop you, Panacea, the victim looks in dire straits." The lead PRT trooper said, all of them relaxing markedly after the blast from Glory Girl, she was a trusted hero after all.


Amy quickly laid a hand on the thug, using some of the biomass from his heavy gut to repair his injuries, purposefully not healing the man fully, not wanting him to regain consciousness right now and finger Vicky as the one that injured him. "All good, he won't even need the hospital." She lied, giving Vicky a dark look, promising reprisals for putting her through this.


Vicky notably winced, but turned back to the PRT troopers, floating closer, a winning grin on her face, "All good, you guys sure had a good response time, but we took care of it." She laid some praise down, even as she continued to lay her aura a bit thick. Amy was right, she definitely needed to control herself, this had been a close one!


"Glory Girl, stand down." A quiet but stern voice called from above them.


Vicky and Amy both flinched and looked up to the edge of the rooftop over the alley, finding Miss Militia crouched up there, her eyes hard, and was that disappointment?


"Hey MM!" Victoria said, giving a hesitant wave, "Sorry, but stand down? What do you mean?"


PRT troopers now appeared at the other end of the alley, their rifles were no longer pointed downwards, both girls swiveled their heads to the first couple soldiers, to find them also hefting their weapons in their general direction.


"What the hell? Brandish is going to sue you into the stone age if you keep pointing those at us!" Amy snapped, nervous sweat rolling down the nape of her neck, her hand reaching for the thug again, to erase the evidence.


A rubber bullet rang out, hitting the pavement in-between them, making Amy withdraw her hand, even as Victoria flew to her side, hands up, "Whoa, Whoa!" She called out, face enraged and scared in equal measures. "What the hell!?"


"Panacea, do not attempt to touch the victim without authorization again." Miss Militia said, heavily, her hand now holding a gun, and it was pointed at them. Her gaze turned to Glory Girl, "Stand down, and put your hands on your head." She ordered, with finality.


They'd seen such a business-like and stern mien on the Protectorate hero before, but only when she was dealing with criminals, not them.


"Jesus, what the hell is this?" Vicky snapped, her aura flaring out, the jostle of rifles audible - as the PRT troopers stepped back a step.


"Vicky… Just do as she says, don't make this worse..." Gallant's voice came from above them, the ward coming to stand next to where Miss Militia was crouched, Dauntless also visible in the air above them. He sounded reluctant and weary, but he still stood against them.


"What… What the hell is this!?" Vicky shouted up at Gallant, Amy nervously watching the PRT troopers that had them surrounded.


They might have been able to fly off and get back home and do some damage control, somehow… But not with Dauntless up there as well.


Miss Militia straightened up, and her gun never wavered once, "We received a tip, about a hero potentially committing manslaughter…"


Amy felt her heart sink into her stomach, at the same time as Vicky actually had her feet hit the ground as she forgot to float in her shock. "W-what?" She croaked out.


Miss Militia shook her head, "Girls… We've had this alley under surveillance since Glory Girl flew off to get help in covering this incident up. We know you almost murdered this man, we know from your own words you've done this before and covered it up, and we know you lied to the PRT when they arrived on the scene. According to Gallant, you, Glory Girl, then attempted to use a Parahuman power on PRT troopers to influence them - which is assault with a Parahuman power. That's not even mentioning what Panacea has possibly done to the victim that made her try to heal him a second time."


Miss Militia gave Amy a judging look, "Your healing has been well documented, there shouldn't be a need for a second pass, unless you deliberately did something or left something undone, as a way to cover up your crimes, perhaps?"


Amy gulped as Vicky slowly saw the situation that was in front of them, and slowly put her hands on her head, tears in her eyes as she stared up at Gallant. They'd been entrapped. And Vicky's boyfriend had been in on it.


Amy couldn't feel happy for that relationship breaking apart though, as she put her own hands on her head, PRT troopers moving in to arrest them.


Carol… Is going to blame me for all of this… She thought woefully.


＊＊＊


The Rig, Brockton Bay.


Sitting in an actual interrogation room was a new experience, one Amy really could have done without.


She thought the handcuffs cuffing her to the metal table was a bit much, it wasn't like she was really dangerous. She could be, but she wasn't like that, would never do that! This was just… To protect Vicky…. She hadn't done anything bad!


She couldn't even convince herself, her self loathing pointing out that everything Carol had ever said about her had come true. How she'd not only become a criminal, but had brought Vicky down with her. If she'd just stopped her the first time, refused to heal the man whose arm she'd broken - she would have never kept escalating.


When the door finally opened, after two hours of waiting - which had been after another five spent in a cell, she was initially relieved, then she sank in on herself even more as she realized it wasn't Miss Militia or even Armsmaster…


Director Piggot herself had come to interrogate her.


She kept her head down as the Director slowly sat down in front of her, laying a file folder on the table.


"Surely you have some spine in you, girl? Raise your head." Piggot said clippedly, arranging some papers that she'd taken out of the folder.


Amy raised her head, sullenly glaring at the woman, "I'm not saying anything without my mom here." She said stiffly, knowing that Carol would be even angrier if she spoke to the PRT without a lawyer present.


Piggot raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "That is your right, you don't need to speak then, just listen."


One by one she laid out photos, each one was of a man she recognized, one of the thugs she'd had to heal. She bit her lip to stop herself from speaking up and further incriminating herself. Carol would fix all this, lawyering was what she did.


"That's three counts of simple assault with a Parahuman power, two more of assault that could have been a murder or manslaughter charge if not for your efforts to cover it up." Piggot said conversationally, tapping the pictures, one by one, slowly.


"You already know the charges Miss Militia brought up for your arrests, what you may have failed to realize is that you face a charge of assault for each of these victims, not only an accessory charge." Piggot continued mercilessly, her gaze judging and full of distaste.


Amy had always known, hearing about it from the wards and from Vicky - that Piggot disliked Parahumans, but it almost looked like she was afraid of her, even handcuffed to the table as she was. She couldn't fathom why. Reluctantly she spoke up, the silence after Piggots last statement getting to her, "I didn't hurt anyone." She mumbled, hands clenching in their caged positions.


Piggot chuckled harshly, "And did you ask all of these gentlemen whether they desired your healing? Or did you force it on them and then threatened harm to them if they told anyone?" Her smile was vicious as her voice dripped heavy with sarcasm, "Forcing your power on someone in anything but lawful dispensation of your duty, is in every way still assault, no two ways about it."


Amy froze, not realizing they knew so much, but of course if she had the men's files, they'd actually found them all, and talked to them. This was beginning to look really bad. "Where's my mom?" She asked slightly hysterically.


Piggot smiled, Amy had seen sharks on the discovery channel that had friendlier smiles, "Brandish left thirty minutes ago after reaching a plea deal for Glory Girl."


Amy's entire world came crashing down, her thoughts moving as through molasses, a ringing sound all she could hear. "Oh." She said simply, realizing she'd been all but abandoned, cut loose, blamed for everything. What else had she expected?


She didn't know how long she sat there, stewing in her own fears, some tears falling as she realized just how little she could count on her family. Vicky, how she loved her! But… She'd done this to Amy, and she'd be getting bailed out… it wasn't fair!


"Besides…" Director Piggot broke the silence, sliding a paper over towards Amy, "It turns out your adoption was illegal and more akin to kidnapping, so Brandish is facing her own situation with the law." The vicious pleasure in the director's tone would have taken Amy aback, if she didn't have a head full of not so complimentary thoughts of Carol herself right now.


She couldn't help but look down at the papers, "Amelia Claire Lavere…" She mumbled, dazed.


Director Piggot rose, "I'll let you think on things, you'll be escorted to your cell momentarily, there will be a few things left out for you to read, I would study them religiously, they're your only way out."


Amy barely heard her, her eyes focused on the innocuous paper, Amelia Claire Lavere…


＊＊＊


An hour later, The Rig, Director's Office, Brockton Bay.


Sarah Pelham didn't know what to think, she didn't know what to do…


When Carol had come to get her, leaving the Rig to come talk to her - she hadn't had any idea of what exactly was happening, having only received a text letting her know that the girls were in custody.


And that it didn't look good…


Now she knew far more than what she liked. Oh Victoria…. How could you… And to drag Amy into it as well… She lamented, sitting in front of Director Piggot, Carol at her left. Her sister had already made a deal with the PRT in regards to Victoria before arriving home to explain things to her, and to drag Sarah back to the Rig with her, the entire team hanging in the balance.


Carol finally broke the silence, the Director not even looking at them as she typed away at her computer, "You wanted to discuss a way forward, Director Piggot?" She asked coldly, her distaste for the militaristic Director no news to either of the other women.


Director Piggot nodded sharply, hitting a key with some extra force, papers beginning to print out, "Yes, some reorganization is in order due to recent events." She said, turning their way, a look of reproach on her face, "Your absolute failure in keeping Glory Girl and Panacea within the bounds of the law puts you in a difficult position." Her lips quirking slightly, with a flash of smugness, as she continued, "Not to mention the optics for your team for illegally adopting a child you kidnapped from the villain whose home you invaded."


Piggot shook her head, no pity or mercy to be found in the depths of her gaze. "No wonder you didn't take it to the Empire after Fleur died, you would have been hypocrites, having broken the unwritten rules yourself already, especially if any of the gangs knew."


Sarah closed her eyes, so that's how it is… She thought with defeat, shaking her head even as Carol snarled back at the Director.


"We've ridden out public discontent before, we can do it again!"


Sarah continued to shake her head, almost wanting to weep, but controlling herself, she was the team leader of New Wave, she wouldn't break down here of all places. "Carol, stop! You know as well as I do that without Glory Girl and Panacea there wouldn't even be a team anymore. None of us are active enough, not really."


She hated to admit it, but seeing how nothing they did achieved anything, they'd all kind of… Just scaled back, patrolled their neighborhood and not much else. Without Panacea and Glory Girl to bring in donations and PR money - they weren't even financially viable.


Carol stiffened, her hands clenching as she looked away from Sarah. Her sister was just as aware of their situation, she was just not one to accept defeat as easily. But defeat this most definitely was. The only question was the cost.


"What do you have in mind? You wouldn't call me in here if you didn't have a deal laid out already." Sarah said heavily, eyes firmly on Director Piggot. The bitch didn't even have the decency to act triumphant or anything, just sitting calmly at her desk.


Just another day at work.


"Glory Girl and Panacea will be Wards, the first is already signed and done with, the second we're letting stew a little, since her legal situation is a bit murky." Director Piggot explained matter of factly. "No matter what, she is no longer under your custody, and will not return to your home, we are not in the habit of giving back kidnapping victims." The dry tone of her voice irritated Sarah, and obviously Carol as well as the woman barely held back from snapping out something unwise.


Sarah gave her sister a warning look, the last thing they needed was anymore trouble. She turned back to Piggot, "I suppose we can't really say or do much about that, but Carol has given Amy a good life, and I would hardly classify it as kidnapping."


Having the PRT take over guardianship for Any for the next two years likely meant she'd be lost to them. Sarah wasn't unaware of the strained relationship between Carol and Amy, and the PRT would be able to offer her a camaraderie she knew Amy didn't have within New Wave.


Director Piggot raised an unimpressed eyebrow, scowling lightly at her, "You're welcome to use that defense in court if you wish to fight us." She offered, already knowing Sarah would do no such things. For one, they'd likely loose, the law wouldn't take into account how good a life someone had after being illegally taken into custody.


Plus the PR would be a nightmare and would kill the New Wave movement either way.


"And us?" Sarah asked, bracing herself. She could see Carol closing her eyes and muttering expletives under her breath. Same feeling here, sis. She thought, an uncomfortable feeling tying her gut into knots.


Director Piggot gestured to the printer, and the stack of paperwork it had printed out, "The underage members will be Wards or retire from being heroes. The adult members will join the Protectorate, or likewise, retire." Her eyes met Sarah's before moving to Carol's, absolute certainty in them, "You make one move to try and remain independent heroes, we all move forward with charges and lawsuits."


Needless to say, the public perception of Glory Girl and Panacea almost murdering people and covering it up, including lying and using powers on PRT troopers - coupled with Carol and Mark illegally adopting Amy - would absolutely ruin them, which didn't leave them with much choice.


Fighting the PRT was difficult enough in a system built up to defer to them heavily, it was impossible when you were actually guilty for all that they charged you with.


Not without going villain - which was not a step they'd take.


Retire or join… Sarah nodded stiffly, about what I expected, although honestly, I hadn't expected to be given the out…


Not that anyone but Carol could take it. She had a day job that paid well enough, the rest of them lived off New Wave for the most part, they needed the Protectorate salary if they wouldn't be continuing the movement.


"We'll need to discuss it and speak with a lawyer." Sarah said heavily, gesturing for Carol to join her as she got up to leave. "This all stays quiet?" She asked.


Director Piggot smiled, and it wasn't a pleasant one, "For now." She agreed, "I wouldn't dally too long." She gave Carol and her mullish look one last long look, pursing her lips, "Carol… We took DNA tests, we know."


Carol froze, Sarah looking at her quizzically, not understanding, of course they knew Amy wasn't Mark and Carols, they'd already been talking about it. "What is she talking about, Carol?" She asked, worried.


Carol shut her down with one fearful and angry look, her lips pinched. Notably, any fight seemed to have drained out of her at the Director's statement.


They left the Rig, needing to have a family meeting, to decide if they were going to fight, retire, or continue the hero business, this time from within the system.


With Carol on a spiral of panic and anger, and Sarah having a kernel of suspicion brewing in her gut as she stared at her sister's back…


They left without making any stops, heading straight for a team meeting.


Neither woman remembered Amy, stuck alone in a cell, desperate for information, for validation, for anyone to be on her side.


Luckily the Rig had several friendly Wards to talk to, and a woman named Yamada.


＊＊＊


One week later, Director's office, The Rig, Brockton Bay.


Thomas Calvert sat down calmly in front of Emily Piggot, utterly relaxed to any casual observer.


Inwardly he felt an odd mix of almost pride, as well as aggravation. Recent events would make it much more difficult to dislodge Emily as the PRT director for the ENE region. At the same time, he did feel a little thrill to have her show some competence in her unknown fight against him. Co-opting New Wave so brilliantly, why, Coil couldn't have done it better himself!


Not to mention she'd managed to defang the youth guard in the last week, finding issues with several wards that the youth guard had either willingly ignored, or actively covered up.


He could appreciate the cleverness in defanging the Youth guard right as she'd had an impressionable and desperately alone Panacea dropped in her lap.


Truly, it had been masterfully played. And it would all be his when he took over her job, so really, he did feel some measure of pride over the work she'd done for him.


"Congratulations Emily." He said, breaking the silence, choosing a more personal touch as this hadn't been billed as an official meeting. "Getting the entire New Wave team into line will dramatically shift the axis of power in the city."


They'd been around, sure, but not active enough to really matter. Now though, working under orders from the PRT, they'd be put to actual use. Even Brandish followed the team into the fold. It certainly would change how Coil would do things going forward, the PRT actually a possible threat now.


Especially as Emily had finally actually gotten herself healed up, even going so far apparently as to have Panacea get her back to form, looking more like her old self then ever, which he admitted was slightly intimidating.


Especially as it showed a shift in attitude and priorities that meant he couldn't accurately predict her anymore.


It likely also had the Empire sweating bullets, seeing the writing on the wall - Emily being back in form and with enough cape back up to take it to the Empire…. Kaiser was hardly blind.


He'd be gearing up for war.


"Save me the ass kissing, Thomas." Emily scoffed, giving him a look of such obvious distaste that it took him aback.


She didn't like him, he knew that, found it amusing to use throw away timelines to reveal himself to her just to see her absolute rage - but she was never obvious about it otherwise. He didn't like it. Something more had changed.


Luckily he did have another timeline going, working as Coil in his underground lair. So he could afford to push, and see what this was really about. "Come now Emily, why the hostility? You should be happy, right now." He said, with an infuriating smirk that he knew would piss her off further.


Emily's lips twitched slightly, as the muffled sound of a radio sounded out from her desk. Giving him a toothy grin that looked so out of place he actually shifted slightly away from the woman, she opened a desk drawer, taking a radio out, and a gun, which she promptly pointed at him!


He raised his hands slightly, "Emily… Think this through, you might have been mastered, you're acting very odd right now." He said, very thrown by what was happening.


"Director Piggot, come in, over?" Armsmasters voice came over the radio.


"Don't worry, Coil… I'll get to you soon." Emily said, freezing him in place far more successfully then the gun had.


How does she know? The other timeline won't help me much if she is aware there as well? Did something happen with New Wave? No, how would they know? Coil's mind was moving fast as he tried to understand how he'd been revealed.


"Piggot to Armsmaster, you have a go on the operation, over." Emily said, seeming to savor the moment, an uncharacteristic amount of glee in her visage.


Thomas missed Armsmasters reply, frozen in place as alarms began blaring in his base, his fingers flying across his keyboard as he went through cameras until he found the breached wall, and the absolute flood of water rushing though, far more than his pumps would ever be able to handle.


He rushed for his emergency door, opening it, having already set the self-destruct to destroy any evidence, only to fall back as water immediately rushed though the open door, immediately submerging him as it continued to flow in.


Thomas looked at Emily Piggot, then at the clock, exactly at 13:05. Five minutes after he made it to the meeting scheduled for 13:00. She knew more than his name, she knew his power. "You can't do this, Emily, I don't have a kill order." He said, dropping all pretenses.


This was now about survival.


He wasn't going to make it out of his base, not with how fast it was filling, his office would fill before anywhere else due to his emergency exit being part of the access point for the flood. He had not expected the heroes to use such a lethal manner to deal with him. He hadn't expected them to deal with him at all!


Emily laughed shortly, cold and harsh, "Coil doesn't have a known power, he's an enigma." She said, gun unerringly pointed at his face even as Coil began to drown in the other timeline.


"It was beyond easy to get Panacea to create a biologically altered creature in secret as part of her deal with me, the girl desperate to have somewhere to belong, and down right eager to experiment when she had the PRT director herself ordering her and giving her lawful permission. Telling her it was only done to take down a horrible villain had her get the work done days ahead of your planned execution." Piggot explained, confusing Thomas, his brows furrowing slightly even as he had a hard time swallowing, feeling like a noose was tightening around his throat.


"Since Coil's power is completely unknown," Piggot mocked lightly, eyes lit up with sadistic glee, the most alive expression he'd seen her with for years, "It was not that hard to get a kill order signed off on this dangerous recently discovered bio tinker capable of making reproducible biological creatures - I knew some friendly judges and PRT directors to go through to bypass involving the triumvirate - speed was of the essence for such a dire threat of course, before Brockton could go like Ellisburg. The PRT director was sadly unavailable due to being in master/stranger screening - due to an accusation she wasn't the real PRT director, coming straight from a trusted source."


Thomas didn't quite understand all of what she was talking about, to his chagrin, although he suspected she was aware of Cauldron and referencing them, which if anything made him terrified.


What the fuck was going on? He stared into Emily's eyes, absolutely sick to his stomach, "You made me out as a second coming of Nilbog!?" He clarified, panicking, seeing the irony, before his mind began almost gibbering in fear as he saw no way out! His vision darkening in the other timeline.


"Yes I did." She said pleasantly, savoring the words, drawing them out like they were a fine wine.


At that moment Coil died in the other timeline, a truly unpleasant experience, and Thomas immediately made another timeline, in one he immediately began pleading for his life, "Emily, we have history together! The only surviv-"


In the other he tried to bargain, "I have a lot of information, both on all the gangs and on people in the PRT and a secret soci-"


In both timelines he couldn't finish, as a bullet blew his head out, Emily Piggot watching with grim satisfaction, holding a smoking gun, being his last sight.


＊＊＊


Across Brockton Bay,


Rachel looked suspiciously at the hero who'd appeared at the dog shelter, her hackles raised.


Her dogs growled, standing at her side, ready to attack at a single sign from her.


Assault lightly tossed a radio over, before ambling away, giving her a cheery wave.


Leaving behind a plate of raw steaks, Rachel wasn't stupid, she just didn't understand people normally, this… She could sort of understand.


He was bribing her to listen to something.


Rachel frowned, looking down at the radio. Slowly she bent down and picked it up, flicking the button to speak, "What?" She barked out roughly.


"Bitch, this is Director Piggot of the PRT, I'll keep this quick as I know you don't care for pleasantries, I'm offering you a pardon, signing you on as an affiliate to the Protectorate as a special asset."


Rachel scoffed, "I don't give a shit, I'm no hero." She was about to throw the radio away, having no time for that shit, when it blared again.


"As part of the deal you'd have the largest dog shelter in Brockton Bay fully paid for, all stray dogs in Brockton under your roof, and PRT and Protectorate assistance to shut down any dog fighting rings wherever they may be. In return, when we deal with the gangs or any threats to the city, you and your dogs are on our side."


Rachel stopped, staring at the radio, "... Don't bullshit me…" She warned, a low growl building in her throat.


"Let's talk specifics." The voice answered back.


And despite her suspicions and distaste.


Rachel listened.


…


Brian rushed into the apartment building his sister lived in with their dad, having received an emergency text from Aisha that he needed to be there immediately.


He knew their dad would be at work, so it meant an emergency with Aisha being alone.


His mind whirled through worst case scenario after worst case scenario as he pounded his way up the stairs, the elevator as usual down - not that he'd have the patience to wait for it even if it was in service.


Making it to the apartment door, he shoulder-checked it, racing into the apartment, "Aisha! Where are you!?" He shouted, before skidding to a halt, his jaw dropping.


Aisha was sitting at the kitchen table, a wide grin on her face as she chatted away rapidly at Vista! And standing next to her, leaning against the fridge, was motherfucking Velocity!


Get that junk away from my sister! He wanted to scream at the indecent hero.


"Aisha… What's going on?" He asked cautiously, trying to play it off like the concerned brother he was, and not like the supervillain who'd been ready to come home and beat the shit out of anyone that was bothering his sister.


He really wanted to scream, because this was such a break of the unwritten rules it was insane!


"Hey big bro, you didn't tell me you were a hero!" Aisha said, a teasing look on her face.


Brian blanched, what the fuck? He stared wild eyed at Velocity, "The unwritten rules…" He said, then winced, good going, you practically outed yourself anyway there!


Velocity chuckled, gesturing to some papers on the table, "Brian, there's your custody papers for this little scamp, we already have a key for your new apartment and everything." He cocked his head, "All available after you've signed the Wards contract of course, Like we discussed…"


Brian just stared at the man, because what the fuck twilight zone was he in, discuss my ass!?


"Bro! You didn't tell me you got custody!" Aisha shrieked, jumping off the kitchen chair and tackling him around the waist.


Brian patted her head as he stood in a daze, meeting the amused heroes looks, "Wards?" He managed to ask weakly.


What the hell is happening?


…


Lisa banged her head on the steering wheel several times. So god damn close!


She was literally one turn away from getting on the highway down to Boston, getting the hell out of this city, where her power kept screaming at her that something was very wrong.


Then Kid fucking Win had began hovering over her car on his fucking hoverboard.


Knows who you are, unwritten rules no longer in play by the PRT, will use confoam grenades at any sight of resistance. Was briefed on your capabilities, knows not to let you talk, will attack if you speak, her power helpfully provided, only fueling her wish to get the fuck out of Brockton Bay!


To make things even better, the sound of Armsmasters motorcycle could be heard down the road, and she soon had the pleasure of seeing the hero pull up next to her rental. Any hope of making it out of the city practically nil, as she stared forlornly at the highway exit.


She glanced at Armsmaster as he approached, her power immediately kicking in.


Knows who you are, displeased to have orders to not arrest you unless an attempt is made to flee, wants you to resist. Approves of the breaking of the unwritten rules. Decision not made by heroes, made by the Director?


Great, just fantastic. She lost the yoke of Coil only to have the PRT go absolutely nutfucking nuts on her, disregarding all the rules.


Fuck the old boss, welcome to the new boss…


Armsmaster gruffly stuck a radio through the driver side window, not even bothering to say please. Walking off after, with Kid Win flying off after him as well, leaving her alone.


Not that they couldn't just hop back over and stop her from leaving if she tried…


Lisa had wanted to make a smart remark, but she was honestly too terrified at how unreal everything was right now, her power not nearly as helpful when everything was too crazy to draw proper conclusions.


"Tattletale, the world will end in two to fifteen years, do you want to help and get richly rewarded during - or go crawl into a hole and wait for destruction?" A stern voice challenged her over the radio.


Lisa returned to banging her head against the wheel. Now that just wasn't fair!


Who uses planetary destruction as an opening gambit in negotiations!!!


…


Alec looked weirdly at the radio he'd been given, not sure if he'd heard that correctly, "Excuse me?" He said, feeling… Something, for the first time in a long time.


With him being inside the Undersiders lair, it had been fairly annoying to have Triumph stop by suddenly. So much for this base, he'd thought. But this was honestly even weirder.


"I have a sniper team overlooking Heartbreakers estate right now, they have the shot. Sign the papers and they'll take it." The clipped stern sounding voice said.


Alec looked down at the papers that would make him a special asset of the PRT ENE, "What exactly is a special asset?" He previcarated, knowing it didn't matter, because he'd end up saying yes anyway.


"You'll be turning enemies of Brockton Bay against their own, working for the side of good, doing bad things." The voice paused for a moment, before continuing on, "You'll never do PR or join the Wards or Protectorate, not openly, as far as the public is aware, you don't exist."


Alec thought that sounded like a pretty sweet deal, all things considered, he certainly didn't want to be one of the prancing ponies walking down the boardwalk to smile on cue. "Is the pay any good?" He asked, suspicious he'd be asked to do this all for charity.


"Twice the rate you were being paid currently." Was the curt reply. "With heavy bonuses for you for any villains we order you to convert."


Alec hummed in thought, "I thought it was illegal to kill a cape premeditated like this without a kill order?" He asked, wanting to be sure.


The voice was quiet for a few moments, before dryly replying, "I don't know what you're talking about, the ordinary mercenary team in Montreal hardly has anything to do with the Brockton Bay PRT."


Alec signed on the dotted line, casually ambling outside to hand the paperwork over to Triumph.


Someone willing to cause a shit ton of chaos in Canada by taking dear old dad out, not caring about the consequences as long as the job got done, that's someone he could work for.


"It's all here, Ma'am." The hero said respectfully into the radio.


"Regent, go with Triumph, also, check your phone." The radio signal ended abruptly after that.


Alec got a message with a picture two minutes later, and for the first time, smiled a truly genuine smile.


…


"Dinah Alcott?"


Dinah turned, peering suspiciously at the hero who stood on the sidewalk, normally she would have been elated, but with all the horrible predictions she'd had, she knew the heroes couldn't save her.


So a hero showing interest in her was not good.


"Not interested." She said, not bothering to act like a normal fan stricken girl, her head hurting way too much, and if they were here anyway, they already knew.


"Just hear me out, Dinah, Miss Militia is already speaking to your parents, I just volunteered to come explain things on your walk home from school, to smooth the process." Gallant said kindly.


Dinah sighed, shoulders slumping, she wouldn't cry in front of a hero, she wouldn't! Instead she spoke in a defeated voice, "If I go to the PRT I have a 76.342 chance of a bad end."


Gallant walked up next to her, "I understand how difficult and scary it must have been to see bad things happening and not being able to get out." He said compassionately.


"Then leave me alone if you understand!" She snapped, tears springing to her eyes despite every attempt to keep them back.


Gallant crouched down, looking ridiculous in his knightly armor crouched like that - speaking with her in a gentle tone like if he was dealing with a wild animal, which offended Dinah something fierce, but then she registered what he was saying…


"Have you checked those numbers in the last 48 hours?"


Dinah automatically checked, even knowing she'd just make the pain so much worse.


Her hands flew to her mouth, as she gasped, tears running freely down her face as she jumped at Gallant, "4.623 chance!" She cried in jubilation.


She didn't know what had changed, but she was safe!


＊＊＊


Sophia couldn't believe what was happening.


Piggy had gone from an overbearing fatty who couldn't help but stick her nose into everything and ruin any fun - including any efforts to actually stick it to the gangs - to a soldier, organizing an effort to go to fucking war!


She didn't really give a shit what happened or how, nor how New Wave ended up drafted, or any of that garbage - all she cared about was that her leash was off now, how the Director actually allowed her to carry lethal ordinance again, actually wanted her to do her job, something no other hero in Brockton Bay could do.


She waited in eagerness outside the restaurant Piggot had directed her at.


Apparently they had a new thinker or something that had said there was a 86 percent chance or something - that Lung would show up at this restaurant this evening.


Normally Sophia wouldn't go within a block of Lung, she was a predator, the predator in this shit sack city, but some prey was just too big even for her, she wasn't the only predator in town.


But Piggot had thrown the unwritten rules out of the window, just to stick it to the gangs, something Sophia could respect, it took guts to do something like that. Piggot would probably get fired or jailed or something, but fuck, if the gangs were all gone, it would be worth it.


She'd sat Sophia down, explained how her power could no sell Lung. How his regeneration wouldn't do shit if she phased her bolts into his brain and heart.


Halbeard had worked on a tranquilizer for the dragon as well, which Piggot authorized to be added to her lethal bolts, to further ensure the dragon did not come back.


She, Shadow Stalker, was going to take out the dude who beat up the entire Protectorate when he arrived in Brockton Bay.


She was going to be a legend!


She waited on the rooftop with anxious and eager energy, two crossbows already loaded with her bolts so she could fire one after another, she couldn't afford to miss, because she held no illusions about what would happen if Lung got a chance to rampage after her.


A car drove up to the restaurant and Sophia perked up, aiming a crossbow immediately, following the cars progress, her form hidden by the billboard on the roof.


Her heart beat a thousand beats a minute it felt like when she spotted Lung stepping out, surrounded by a few ABB losers. She settled herself, took a deep breath, a second one, before turning into her breaker state, firing one bolt. Lung staggering back, the bolt having phased right through him, hitting him right in the heart, Sophia going corporeal again as the bolt hit the heart, lodging it there.


Immediately Lung began growing, even as he tore at his chest, the regeneration not able to remove the object lodged into his heart.


Sophia fired again, a second bolt going straight through his forehead just as Lungs wild eyes found her, his roar cut off as she went corporeal again with a vicious smirk behind her mask.


The undefeatable dragon of Brockton Bay fell, the tranquilizers and the lethal bolts working just as intended, suppressing his regeneration.


For good measure, Sophia fell on the panicking ABB tools with wild abandon, putting them all down as well, breathing heavily, her lips spread into a wild grin as she looked around at the quiet street, bodies splayed around her after she was done.


She threw her head back and laughed, cackling as she raised one arm to the sky, I am unstoppable! She crowed.


…


Hours later,


Sophia Hess stalked into the conference room, feeling looser and more at ease than she had ever felt before. Finally taking it to the gangs had been better than any orgasm, or any adrenaline high from a fight.


Getting to actually fight properly, with all the chains broken - it felt exhilarating.


The only snag had been this stupid after action report bullshit, all week she'd had to spend hours and hours in this room after training, talking about everything she did, about her strategy, her thoughts and feelings.


Always this same room too, which was annoying as it was literally as far from anything worthwhile in the building one could go.


Bah!


Such bullshit, but she put up with it because Piggot had at least finally seen sense on letting a real predator loose on the problems in Brockton Bay.


The monitor on the wall flickered on as soon as Sophia sat down, Piggot's stern visage visible as she glared down at Sophia.


Sophia frowned, a little taken aback, because for the past week or so the Director had been downright friendly with her, so this sudden reversal to glaring bitch when she'd finally done the deed, taken down Lung - was odd.


"Shadow Stalker, your service in removing the threat of Lung was exemplary." Piggot said slowly, still with the look on her face like she'd sucked off Crawler or something.


Sophia wanted to fire back something scathing, because now she was the biggest bitch in town, and the Director better start showing some real respect, except she found that she couldn't move!


She could only sit there, frozen, as she stared up at the Director's face as she continued speaking.


"Unfortunately, you are an honest to god psychopath and loose cannon that I can't abide, triggering a classmate alone is enough to condemn you, let alone your extracurricular activities."


Fuck, Hebert triggered? That's the only one that could have… The fucking queef TATTLED!? Sophia was going to kill that little bitch when she got out of this!


Piggot sighed tiredly, momentarily looking less of a hard ass, and more human, before her face withdrew into a stony countenance again, "If you were anyone else… I likely would not have authorized this, but your power is too useful as the quiet assassin in the dark, a special asset solving the problems the PRT can't officially admit to. Your paperwork has already been submitted, labeling you as going AWOL and committing to villainy 48 hours ago, every record of you entering this building between then and now have been erased."


Internally Sophia raged, even as a trickle of fear began to travel down her spine, what was this? And fucking bitch! They were going to pin Lung on her going villain!!


Piggot looked above Sophia, to something behind her, and Sophia could hear a wall sliding apart, slow footsteps coming towards her."


"You have a good hold on her, Regent?"


Regent stepped in front of Sophia, patting her on the head cheekily, "Absolutely, boss!" He took out a marker and detached Sophia's mask, beginning to draw on her. "You and I are part of the irregulars now, sweet cheeks, congratulations!"


Internally Sophia kept screaming.


Screaming and screaming.


No one could hear.


No one cared.


＊＊＊


Taylor Hebert was not looking forward to school, she never did to begin with, but especially now, after the locker…


When the school had proven beyond any doubt that the trio would get away with anything in regards to her, without a single punishment.


She'd taken the last bus possible, to arrive at Winslow as late as she could, while still having just enough time to get to class.


Her heart sank as she arrived to find half the student body standing around outside, she didn't know what was going on, but she had a feeling it would be bad for her.


The power she had was too new for her to dare utilizing it, so she just ducked her head down and tried to remain unnoticed, slipping through the crowd.


When an arm latched onto hers, she froze, expecting a hit or a shove, expecting Sophia to be behind her.


"Brian, I found her!" The voice behind her called out over the crowd. The fact it was a voice she didn't know, was enough of a shock that Taylor turned around, staring at the girl holding her arm.


She'd never seen her around Winslow before, slender, with bottle green eyes, a mischievous kind of look to her features and blonde hair, she looked like the kind of girl that would definitely support Emma.


As she thought it, the girl winced, looking like she'd tasted something bad, "Don't worry, Taylor, all that stops now, I'll be joining your class… I'm Lisa by the way!"


Before Taylor could voice her thoughts on whatever cruel prank this was a part of, because the girl was obviously older than her - someone else she definitely knew didn't go to Winslow, joined them. She knew, because while Taylor might be an unpopular, ugly loser, she would have definitely noticed him before.


"There you are, don't run off like that, Lisa." The absolute beefcake of a boy said as he came to stand before them, his face gaining a small tired smile as he noticed Taylor, "Hello, Taylor, nice to meet you, I'm Brian and I'll be joining your school as a teacher's assistant…"


Taylor was now going beyond shocked into the beginning stages of panic, because there was no way this guy knew her for any good reasons.


Lisa tsked, loudly clicking her tongue, "This is going to be hard work starting off like this, I warned her…" She sighed dramatically, the boy next to her shrugging silently, seemingly exhausted.


"Let go of my arm, please." Taylor asked, wanting to get away from whatever this was.


Lisa immediately did so, a compassionate look on her face, "We'll talk later, I'll explain everything, it's only fair."


Taylor didn't listen to the rest, rushing through the crowd to avoid anything else from this obvious set up.


She stumbled through the crowd, freezing in place again as her jaw gaped at what she was seeing.


Principal Blackwell and several of the teachers were being led out in handcuffs, by police.


So much for this school day if half of the teachers weren't going to be available to teach. Why on earth had they waited until just before class started to arrest them anyway?


Why were they doing it? Why now?


Am I dreaming…?


＊＊＊


Authors note:


Just a fun thought I had and whipped up while I had nothing better to do, another one which I just can't see making into a full story, as it would just be too OP, and on the other hand would realistically be shut down by Cauldron anyway.


Those annoying boogeymen.


HammerTime is already on Patron and should be up for everyone on Saturday, A Shadow's Requiem should be up on Patron today, so you'll get it soon enough,


Cheers


JollyHippopotamus

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

The snippet of Darth Humerus, the only Sith to completely disavow angst and hatred for more useful things.


This is definitely crackish, stupid and something I wrote up after a friend made a star wars joke about how much better the galaxy would be if all the force users just fucked around - instead of being so serious about their seriousness.


It's silly and dumb, so definitely don't take it seriously, but perhaps some of you will either get inspiration or some amusement from the lowborn humor within.


It begins during the SWTOR game, but moves into the time period a few years after the Empire was established, a period that doesn't show up that much in fanfiction, not the early years anyway.


Standard disclaimer - Star Wars belongs to Disney, who although they aren't doing anything good with it - still owns it, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.


＊＊＊


Dromund Kaas, 3655 BBY


Darth Humerus considered himself a different breed than the other Sith of this age, for one - he had a sense of humor, hence Humerus. Because Humorous was a little too on the nose.


Also Darth Humerus the Humorous just flowed just right, it had pizzazz!


He'd probably given his fellow Sith too much credit though…


Because unfortunately no other Sith ever got it, or laughed at the silly joke, not even when he reached out with the force and snapped their humerus.


There was plenty of screaming, and how did you do that!? And ranting and monologuing, but no appreciation for a good joke.


Honestly, the lack of appreciation for many arts in his fellow Sith was just appalling. They also picked up new things so gosh darn slow. Take how hard it was for them to understand how easily he overpowered most of the silly buggers for example - yet they still tried to kill him for various Sith inspired reasons.


Reasons which usually were as simple as - because he happened to be around, or because he opened his mouth, there were a lot of the second one honestly. Most of his fellow Sith seemed to be mentally deficient in some manner, which explained the lack of a funny bone too.


That didn't make sense, but it didn't have to, because Sith never made sense.


He was a very different breed from the others.


He had studied Sith Alchemy and Sith Magic instead of practicing how to penetrate others with religious fervor. Honestly, lightsaber training had just seemed a tad bit too homoerotic for him.


It's not like the Emperor ever needed to go wave a saber around, and as Humerus was his only real apprentice (despite great effort from Emperor Vitiate to change that) it's not like he needed to go all sexy time with the other little Siths.


Others sure, but Sith were just a tad possessive for his taste. Really bad at the whole no thing.


Not that there was anything wrong with what a being got up to with another being, he partook himself gladly all the time - he just preferred more traditional passions.


Preferably ones not involving burning plasma.


Or he had, before all those things kind of didn't become a concern anymore.


So the rest of them played their silly little games, murdering each other willy nilly, playing with their big… Tools. Just to turn around and be absolutely shocked, when they got murdered in turn, usually by an apprentice.


Like he said. Mental deficiencies.


And while they played and died, Darth Humerus played and lived. Because Alchemy and Magic was beyond bullshit.


The force was crazy to begin with, but once you became steeped into the various mysteries of Sith Alchemy and Magic, things like reaching through another Sith Lord and his power with a thought, and snapping their bones - became something rote, not anything he needed to concentrate hard on anymore.


It was because of the great snappening fifteen years ago, that he'd been banished from polite society, only now allowed to return to Dromund Kaas.


In his defense, his newly found appreciaton for slapstick humor had been interesting to play with, and he'd figured eventually he'd run into a Sith that would get the joke.


Hundreds of broken Sith later, no one had, and the Emperor's Wrath had politely asked him to go on vacation for a few years.


Preferably in another galaxy if he'd please.


He'd been a nice fellow. Even if he hadn't gotten the joke either. Then again, old grumpy Vitiate had hired him on, and that guy could never take a joke.


Vitiate was still sore that the apprentice he took on, intending to send him on suicidal quests for Vitiate's own amusement, until he died horribly - instead became immortal and eventually changed his name from the edgy one he'd once received - to Humerus.


It had been a bit excessive for his old master to try and kill him for over 100 years after, but considering he was still fucking Revan somewhere for the past like 300 years, he figured he was just vastly more annoying then Revan and made Vitiate back off in disgust.


Revan and Malak had been somewhat fun, too bad they'd done their utmost to avoid him until they left for Republic space for some reason.


And now here he was again, after fifteen years of no random Siths pissing in his cereal, back to his workshop, his bastion of insanity, where he'd bent the limits of reality - mostly because of boredom.


Honestly after a few hundred years, only sex and trolling people was ever any fun anymore.


Darth Humerus looked around his old workshop, scratching a face tendril, squinting at what lay therein.


In retrospect, when one worked in matters of crazy space magic and biological horrors twisted behind what any sentient being could handle - one should probably not leave one's workshop unattended for fifteen years.


The Empire's Wrath had been very insistent however.


And he had been meaning to do a wide spanning tour of the best prostitutes in the galaxy anyways.


Hah, it had been fifteen years well spent.


His retinue of minders screeched something behind him that he ignored. If they were important, he'd have remembered their names. Maybe. He looked around his old workshop with undisguised curiosity, taking in the strange happenings.


The Terentatek corpse he'd used for his most successful experiments seemed to be glowing, and also floating. Both of which should probably not be happening. It was several hundreds years old though, so maybe they did that at such an age?


That was slightly concerning, he thought, his robes flapping in the wind, eying the beast who he had so cunningly defeated as a young apprentice. Who needed lightsabers to do such things anyway?


Of course he was pretty sure Vitiate had just wanted to be rid of him when he gave him the task to kill it.


Honestly, if he'd been a more attentive master, he wouldn't have been so surprised when Darth Humerus sank into Alchemy and Magic and came out as he was.


It was really all his fault. Crappy teacher.


He'd never bothered to teach him lightsaber stuff, for which he was actually thankful, he didn't not want to imagine himself and Vitiate doing any penetrating of any kind.


He was an ancient pervert, but even he had standards.


He did better with tutaminis than sword waving anyway… He fingered the rings of bone adorning his facial tendrils, Terentatek bone, with Sith runes glowing in a sinister red light on its surface. Not that he needed it often, it had been one of his more genius ideas to expand a Terentatek's natural immunity to the force and damage, and spread it across his body.


The Sith and the odd Jedi who attacked him - thought it very impressive, or so he assumed anyway, when they tried to penetrate him with abject failure and began blathering nonsense.


Honestly, yelling it's impossible and you can't do that! To a person who was literally doing it, proving it very possible, was going to achieve what, exactly?


People didn't have any imagination, it was always, you can't do that, it's a whole moon! To, nooo, you can't mate a Rancor with a Gizka that's not physically possible…


Hah, he'd shown them.


Oh… He had shown them!


Oh, there he went rambling in his thoughts again, he tapped the bone jewelery/ritual powered adornments. That was definitely not there when I was here last… He thought with some interest, looking at the main attraction of the workshop currently.


He eyed the swirling portal taking up the entirety of the far wall, the phenomena responsible for the windy conditions, as it sucked up his workshop to whence it disappeared into the void, or whatever the portal led to.


He'd been dreading having to clean up after fifteen years, so it was a definite plus, honestly.


A shame he had no idea which of his many crimes against nature was responsible however. He always liked to know how exactly he destroyed/fixed something. It was always so frustrating to have to guess.


And Vitiate always screamed so much at him if he blew up a planet by accident. Which was rich coming from him. Really, at least he, Darth Humerus, did it by accident.


A short shriek heralded the short appearance of one of the 'guards' assigned to politely remind him not to break the bones of the Dark Council, which was ridiculous, because how were they ever to get the whole Humerus thing if he didn't keep breaking their Humerus?


The shrieking being was quickly swallowed up by the portal.


There was no spaghettification, that's disappointing, he'd quite like to have seen that.


Darth Humerus scoffed at the babbling and screaming from the other Sith, holding on for dear life as he stood still, rubbing his face. Being a Pureblood Sith did come with the advantage of having an absolutely divine face for the task of rubbing your features in thought, with so many tendrils and ridges for added texture - it was simply genius engineering in their ancestors to achieve such perfection.


If his Rancor and Gizka experiment had been an unmitigated success, depending on your definition of the word unmitigated and success..


His attempt to make pureblood Sith better by breeding them with Wookies, had been a huge failure. Probably for the best anyway, keeping fur clean would be a bother.


Another guard, some Sith woman Lachrima or Lachra or something, cursed his existence as she lost her grip on the workbench she'd sunk her fingers into, spinning into the void.


He sighed, Sith these days… With how heavily modified his internals were and the arcane powers he'd grasped and bent to his will, utilizing the force to simply stand in place was no more difficult than breathing was. When one could clone new flesh, losing a limb or two to science was hardly even an inconvenience anymore, so he'd had plenty of practice in improving himself.


He patted the glowing corpse of the Terentatek as he started moving forward, the force his ally as he simply decided that he could walk just fine, and the environment decided to agree, knowing what's good for it - even as the last Sith flew past him, desperately scrambling to grasp him.


For the rudeness of attempting such a thing, he telekinetically grasped him by his underthings, giving him the world's worst wedgie for a few seconds, before he mercifully let him go, to be swallowed by the portal.


The Terentatek had been the first one to show him how limbs were just temporary, until you could craft a better replacement. It had eaten three of his after all.


His ambush hadn't gone quite as expected, being a force savant of sorts didn't help much against a beast that saw the force as simple flavoring - to the best kind of meals.


Of course after the first limb had gone, he'd grown wise, and cut his other leg to pieces to stuff it with thermal detonators and fed it to the beast. That had worked like a charm, albeit left him with one arm and a torso to drag himself to his hired minions.


Painful, sure, but it had been an interesting experience. Life was so dull with all these silly scuffles between Jedi and Sith. It's like they both couldn't understand that the galaxy was enormous and they could both quite well live happily on different sides of it, never interacting.


Or take a galaxy hooker tour.


The Jedi could use some loosening up. As for the Sith… Well one was generally less murdery after some pussy or dick.


Interesting experiences huh…


Darth Humerus watched the portal with interest.


It was quite possible it would actually kill him.


Quite possible indeed.


He smiled, the shine of excitement in his eyes, death is yet another new experience! He thought, stepping forward into the portal.


An explosion tore apart a fifth of Dromund Kaas, killing many influential Sith Lords seconds later.


The general consensus from everyone from Emperor Vitiate down to the lowest of apprentices was - that it was a small sacrifice to finally be rid of Darth Humerus.


His name, appearance and everything about him, was completely scrubbed from all records, the Sith Empire pretending he never happened.


It took them years to remove all the penises he'd added to every statue in Dromund Kaas somehow, during his short trip from the spaceport to his workshop.


Including in the Dark Temple.


A fitting eulogy.


＊＊＊


Mustafar, 10 BBY.


Darth Humerus stepped through the portal, frowning, that's odd…


He didn't spot any of the objects or other people that had preceded him, perhaps the portal led to different places. No… It remained stable entirely, it would have fluctuated in the force if it was flickering between locations like that, not that I'm an expert on random force phenomena, he thought.


Time perhaps… But unlikely.


He eyed himself with some amusement, it also does not appear to accept clothing. He was as naked as he was born, no equipment or clothing surviving the process - although thankfully his bone adornments, being part of his soul at this point - had survived the journey.


He felt the force, eyes narrowing, he was definitely on a Sith World, the aura of misery and pain in this place was stronger than when he'd accidentally walked in on a group of Sith teenagers trying to socialize and flirt.


Also the aesthetic seemed to be very Sith, very dark and foreboding. Personally he preferred some nice rugs, perhaps a light or two - so he wouldn't have to strain his eyes, or use the force to see. Darkness was all well and good until you ended up having to squint everywhere in your old age.


A squinting Sith would just be ridiculous.


This seemed… Too much like the angsty castle of a limp dicked teenager Sith who had mommy problems, he'd been around that type before all too often. This Sith was definitely one of those try-hards that always annoyed Darth Humerus.


It was always death this and death that with them, angst angst angst. Personally, Darth Humerus preferred to pick between twenty beautiful courtesans for a night of absolute debauchery or - twenty beautiful female rogues that for the right price might act like the filthiest kind of courtesan, for a night of absolute debauchery.


With free flowing rivers of alcohol, of course. Much better choices than death and death.


But maybe that was just him?


Considering he'd lived in a Sith Empire for hundreds of years… He knew it was only him.


He picked a random direction at the gentle tug of the force, so perhaps it was not so random? Did the force choose or did he use the force to choose? Bah, philosophy was not something for today. Confident that despite not being a savage lightsaber fetishist, he'd kept in enough shape to woo any beings of the female inclination that he might encounter while au naturel, he moved on.


Strutting down the hallway with aplomb. Ready to woo any fortunate female, or pretty boy - who happened to walk by.


Really, when one was basically saturated in the force far beyond a normal Jedi or Sith, love making with him was so far beyond cheating now - that it should be illegal in all the bedrooms in the galaxy.


Not that he often got to the bedroom in question.


He felt an absolute storm in the force approaching, and politely stopped at a crossroads of the emo castle, waiting, as was only polite for a guest. It seemed the Sith Lord of this particular abode was on its way.


He'd have to give him props, not many could sense him at all, his adjustments to his body and soul made him very difficult to detect in the force. The incoming Sith had a lot of power. But nothing else. Really, he felt power, all blunt, all straightforward, this Sith was basically a mallet.


So no threat to him, not that it would matter, Darth Humerus had been put on a list by Emperor Vitiate long ago that had been spread far and wide across the Sith Empire. It only had one word on it, besides his name.


Don't.


It didn't actually seem to do much, but at least the man tried. Darth Humerus didn't have the heart to tell him he was honestly kind of shit at the whole Emperor thing.


The storm finally walked into sight, heavy mechanical breathing echoing down the dark hallways.


Dark and foreboding, he stood, posing with his cape at the end of the hallway. He didn't say a word, just kept breathing loudly, the lights on his cyborg chest blinking.


Darth Humerus politely waited for him to say something, but the cyborg only stood in his pose, head tilted in his direction, watching him.


Spot on about the emo teenager description, he thought with a sigh.


"I am well aware I am likely the finest specimen you have ever seen, my fellow Darth, but there's only a certain amount of time one can stare at another man's penis before it gets awkward, and I believe we have passed that threshold." Darth Humerus said cheerfully, giving the man his due.


Despite the angsting he could feel all through the walls, he had the power of a Darth, and Humerus could respect that much.


For five minutes. He'd respect it for five minutes. Quite generous of him.


"You will regret coming here..." The dark visage intoned heavily, the mechanical breathing noises lending an eerie effect.


The dark cyborg stepped forward, raising a hand, fingers clenching, his power lashing out to constrict Darth Humerus' throat.


How rude.


With nary a thought, his own will flexed, power slashing between them, unraveling the lord of the castle's attempt, the force howling down the corridor, wind blowing his adversaries cape back, forcing the man to take a step back as the backlash hit him.


"Who… Are you?" The deep mechanical voice demanded, fist clenching angrily in the air in front of him. "Did my Master send you!?'


Darth Humerus frowned, not appreciating being drowned in angst, the being in front of him practically screaming it out with every movement - nor the bout of non-consensual sex play. "Choking when consensual can be a fun thing, but I don't appreciate your actions so far, staring at my body in such a perverse manner, then attempting to choke me? At least start with some manner of foreplay first! Before I give you my name, I must ask you your intentions!"


The being in front of him seemed absolutely thrown by that statement, seemingly not used to being questioned.


A Sith that was never questioned, Darth Humerus knew, was a dangerous thing. They tended to take themselves way too seriously because of it.


Considering this one was all black on black with full body covering, he probably sent out memos reminding his troops that 'fun' was outlawed, while brooding about his enemies in his man cave.


"I am the Master here, this is my domain, you WILL answer me! Who ARE YOU!?" The mechanical hiss to the voice took on another note as his anger exploded out of him, a force push denting the walls as it roared forward like a hungry beast towards him, following the command of its Master.


The hatred and anger in the force took almost physical shape, as it forced itself down the corridor against him faster, hungering for his destruction.


Darth Humerus looked on, a crooked smile on his face, "Cute." He said, stroking one of the bone adornments on his right facial tendril, twirling the tendril between his fingers.


Without any grand announcements, shouted commands, or flourishing of weaponry, the wave simply died, in a whimper, ceasing to be, as it approached Darth Humerus.


There was a lot of power behind it, but the force knew better then to toss Darth Humerus around. He always made it pay for such humiliations, like that one life day where every being that could feel the force - spent the day having everything they tasted or smelled - taste and smell like a Hutt.


The force had capitulated soon after. The feeling of horror from billions across the galaxy - permeating it for long after the day had passed.


Of course he'd suffered as well, but it was still worth it - even if he'd forever know what a Hutts ass tasted like. The force shivered in remembered agony, and promised to be good.


"Blowing your entire wad in one shot. Force, you really are a teenager, aren't you?" He asked jovially, now certain this Sith was woefully underprepared for anyone like him.


Yet another Sith that can't take a joke… He thought sadly.


"I am Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith. You will not make a joke out of me, cretin!" The cyborg Sith hissed out, parts of the wall being ripped asunder in a cacophony of noise, sparks flying as metal sheets, machinery and such was telekinetically catapulted towards him.


At least he had a modicum of intelligence, trying physical force after the metaphysical had failed him.


Darth Humerus politely asked the force to consider the debris heading his way to be grains of sand instead of such heavy and potentially bruising matter.


As a personal favor.


For some reason the force's agreement was extra happy about the sand.


As he stepped aside from the deluge of sand that passed him suddenly, wafting through the air, he introduced himself, "I am Darth Humerus, scientist, jokester, lover." He said with ease, winking at Darth Vader, wiggling his toes in the sand that now covered the floor, warm and toasty, nice!


Only a roar met him, Vader's voicebox struggling to match his intensity, sparks flying off the cyborgs chest panel. He was disappointed to see that Vader, seeing the lack of effect in his efforts - did the exact same thing again, launching debris at him, tearing apart his castle to destroy him.


More sand, surrounded them shortly thereafter, which made Vader roar so loudly his voicebox gave up the ghost, sparking wildly before dying with a sad little mechanical squeak. He could still hear the man inside his helmet, but it was no longer audible to anyone without enhanced senses.


Darth Humerus was beginning to get bored. Considering the last time he was bored, he'd walked through a portal he'd assumed would kill him - it did not bode well for the gentleman trying to court him in all the wrong ways.


With a snap and a hiss, a red lightsaber was drawn and activated, Darth Vader stalking forward menacingly, obviously intending to get up close and personal. Darth Humerus scoffed, can't handle the foreplay, so goes straight for penetration, how typical…


Now Darth Humerus might be somewhat immune to plasma blades due to some self experimentation, but no man enjoyed staring down a lightsaber while having dangly bits readily available for it to cut at. Invulnerable or not.


Besides, anyone so weak they needed to go to a lightsaber duel of all things - deserved what was coming at them.


Honestly, one could do so much with the force - And the majority of force users decided the best way to utilize it was into swordfighting.


And they called him mad!?


With but a thought, he ripped off the arms and legs of the cyborg in front of him, feeling the shock and humiliation of the man in the force, as he fell to the floor, limbless.


It seemed it was a fond memory of the man, as he screamed internally at being rendered half of a man, again.


Honestly, if he lost his wedding tackle, he'd just give up. Or well… Clone a new one.


It's not like cloning was even hard.


He looked at the Sith, tsking in disappointment, such a poor Sith indeed.


Darth Humerus walked up to Darth Torso, humming the imperial march as he did, feeling the absolutely monstrous mental emanation of hate, as he came to stand over him, forcing Darth Torso to literally look up his bits to speak with him.


"Impossible!" Darth Torso raged, his machine voice having abandoned his sad ranting - the lack of mechanical bass giving him a more matching emo teen kind of voice.


"Not impossible, just improbable." Darth Humerus said, poking the torso with a foot, "You know your way around, right?" He said, hefting the torso up with the force, attaching it to his back like a pack, Darth Torso's helmeted head poking over his shoulder.


"Scream for left, silence for right?" He asked jovially.


Only mad screaming and threats could be heard from the helmet, barely audible even at this range.


"Left it is, Darth Torso, I'm sure we'll have a grand adventure together." He said, his grin growing dark as he began walking, "You'll learn to take a joke…. Oh, yes… You will!"


Laughter echoed down the hallways, what remained of them, as the two Sith made their way further into the castle.


＊＊＊


Some time later,


Darth Torso was in a timeout.


Darth Humerus had no other choice, the little brat kept tearing apart every trooper and being they ran into before Humerus could inquire about their whereabouts - or for some clothes.


Now he could have stopped the telekinesis that tore those men apart, but honestly, stopping a Sith from using their powers never worked - you had to humiliate them enough that they learned to only use it at the appropriate times.


Like when it was funny.


Darth Humerus didn't much care that Darth Torso kept trying to kill him, that was par for the course, and also completely useless, it also tickled nicely.


If Vitiate - the number one edge lord in the galaxy - stopped trying to kill him out of sheer frustration, this little brat wouldn't last a month.


Killing the people that could get him clothes, food, blowjobs - that was hitting a bit under the belt from the tiny dark lord. Hence, a timeout.


Now he wasn't an expert's at force illusions, even though he was a dab hand at Sith Magic. But compared to a brute like this, his abilities was that of a supernova facing a gnat.


So Darth Torso was currently hanging on to his back while his mind was elsewhere, he'd figured he'd make an illusion where all his enemies humiliated him, it shouldn't take too long, he could feel this little baby Sith had barely been a Sith for more than a few years.


He likely had less than a handful real enemies, right?


He whistled happily as he strode down a new set of corridors, letting the force guide him, it almost never steered him wrong.


At least not anymore, after a few situations that required spankings, back when the force had been a bit more rebellious.


Oh, goodie, a barracks! He thought, rubbing his hands together.


A good place for clothes or alcohol, or even more depravity, depending on the troopers, Darth Humerus found most people serving Sith tended to have the most amusing fetishes.


Although all those people asking him to step on them while they were in orgasmic throes - did make him feel oddly like Emperor Vitiate at times.


"Hands up where we…." The order was shouted out, but trailed off awkwardly, a whole contingent of some new kind of imperial trooper in white of all things, standing at the ready, blasters raised.


Apparently they'd been struck speechless by his nudity, so he preened, a proud smirk on his face as he twirled a facial tendril. "Your admiration is appreciated, it's nice to finally find some reasonable specimens." He congratulated them.


The whirr of armed blasters had him raise a shocked eyebrow as everyone zeroed in on him, the one in charge barking out, sounding unsure, but forcing it out through sheer adherence to protocols. "R-release Lord V-Vader at once!"


Darth Humerus politely lifted the insensinate Darth over his shoulder with the force, offering it to the troopers, "He's not done his time out yet, but if you want to hold him for now you may, now where can I find some clothes?"


Almost in unison, every single trooper took a step back, leaving the commanding officer alone, facing the floating Darth Torso, his face covered in sweat, panicked eyes looking around him at the faceless troopers. "I-I… Bind him!" He blustered, pointing at Darth Humerus.


Darth Humerus frowned, giving the troopers a serious look, hand cocked on his hip. "Look, if we're going to play with bondage, that's fine, but I'll have to be on top. Sadly I'm missing my monogrammed binders, stupid portal, but it's probably for the best as I don't have enough for all of you - but I really need some food first, and some clothes - before I break your minds in pleasure and you forget where it all is, okay?"


Really normal people were so fragile.


He didn't know what exactly he said that scared them so badly, but almost as one, they all opened fire on him. They weren't half bad too, unfortunately blaster fire was useless on him. He irritably began slapping blaster bolts back, killing the ungrateful bastards, while the commanding officer shrieked and ran around, Darth Torso held above his head, attempting to get away.


Why had the force led him here if there was only going to be rude people around? Who even opened fire at the prospect of an orgy? Was Darth Torso so emo he'd removed everything fun from his subordinates?


Did he outlaw sex because he didn't have a penis anymore?


He eyed the commanding officer running around. Well… It wasn't any imperial uniform he recognized, and he generally disliked uniformity, but he needed something to wear.


As he slapped back the last bolt, killing the last trooper who hadn't been smart enough to run, he turned to the commanding officer, still holding Darth Torso above his head, his knees shaking badly as he stared at Darth Humerus proud and naked visage.


"Take off your clothes." Darth Humerus ordered cheerfully, grinning widely, happy to have finally found some boots at least. The troopers had honestly terrible boots, so he hadn't bothered to loot any so far.


Tch, these people are weak, he thought, as the commanding officer fainted in fear, Darth Torso clunking against the ground. So afraid of giving me his clothes, he literally passed out…


He couldn't understand it, the man was about his size, which is why he wanted his clothes.


Was there some nudity taboo he was missing?


＊＊＊


Darth Vader's mindscape,


Vader roared in fury again, fruitlessly trying to get out of his bonds to murder the damned JEDI!


He was no fool, he knew it wasn't real, knew this was some force damned illusion, one he couldn't destroy no matter how hard he threw his power at it…


But why did every force damn JEDI appear, doing the exact same thing to humiliate and anger him!?


Fucking Padme Amidala in front of him, to her extremely visible and audible enjoyment.


He damn well knew it was an illusion, but it still didn't stop his boundless rage and hate at the visage of Mace Windu fucking his wife while holding eye contact with him the entire time.


…


If Yoda showed up in this illusion he was going to shatter planets when he got out, to hell with the Empire and Palpatine,


No one deserves to see something like that, NO ONE!


He'd kill everything!


"Stop staring at me WINDU!" He roared, already regretting that he didn't get to kill more Jedi, due to order 66 taking care of most of them.


Windu especially, died too quickly!


＊＊＊


Darth Humerus continued exploring the facility, somewhat confused as to why Darth Torso was still out of it.


Really? How many enemies did the tin can have? How do you even gather enemies brooding in his own dark castle like this?


Perhaps he'd been hasty in instituting a time out, he'd intended to use the Sith as his guide after all - and now he was completely useless.


With a heady sigh, he stopped holding back, letting his awareness spread throughout the castle, and the planet.


There was a certain amount of panic all over this bastion of emoness, soldiers and commanders alike running around screaming into holo comms, begging for reinforcements.


He probably should have stopped that before this. Oops.


The whole time travel thing seemed more likely now though, as the highest ranked member of the staff had reached an Emperor over the holo, genuflecting in great fear while reporting on Darth Humerus - and from the very ugly visage of said Emperor, it wasn't Vitiate.


Either way, tattling was just not nice.


He reached out and just knocked them all out, everyone in the facility collapsing like their strings were cut. His awareness of the planet coming to the fore as the minds in the facility blanked out.


Hoh?


That was a very recognizable mind.


Newly dressed in his drab uniform, with good boots at least on his feet, he ambled off to leave the facility, heading towards someone interesting.


＊＊＊


He was indeed lucky that he was who he was, because as he exited out onto the planet's surface, he ran into one of the most inhospitable planets he'd ever seen.


Flows of lava as far as the eye could see, temperatures that would easily kill a man if left exposed too long, red dust everywhere.


As he strolled away, the black and red ash that covered the surface simply made a path for him, as he whistled, hands in his pockets as he watched everything around him with curiosity, the planet certainly felt like it was a Sith planet, but not one he'd ever spent time on before.


He'd think he'd remember this…


Although considering how Sith were with planets, for all he knew this was Alderaan just a few thousand years later.


He hoped not.


Alderaani royalty was one of the few things he was still missing on his royal booty bingo card.


One plus to time travel, if that is what had happened… He was probably no longer banned from coming within 10 planets of Alderaan.


They couldn't really enforce such a ban, but being drowned in Jedi trying to monologue at him was just so annoying he'd stayed away anyway.


Honestly, it's not like Alderaan had needed all those continents anyway. What's one less really?


It took him hours to get to the location he sought, which didn't bother him, being immortal now had quite made time immaterial really, if something took hours or days, so what?


He had time.


At least Darth Torso had finally woken up, just as grumpy as before, but at least showing some basic survival instincts in not immediately raving and ranting again.


Darth Humerus had been forced to do some quick work with the force to revitalize the man, and repair his machinery, so he didn't expire in the environment with how much he'd torn off the man.


"What are you?" Darth Torso squeaked, before pausing, anger flashing in the force, "My voice? What have you done to my voice!?"


At least he's beginning to understand I'm more of a what than a who… Darth Humerus thought, lips twitching, because of course when he fixed the voice box he'd changed the voice.


"It's not my fault you had - sparkly 4 year old princess - with an adorable lisp, as a setting." He chastised the man. "I fixed you, but I don't know how to program your voice box." He lied shamelessly.


Darth Torso silently seethed.


Darth Humerus could feel that he had much to say, but was having a raging internal debate over the fact that saying it meant speaking in that voice.


It seemed silence won out, as Darth Humerus neared his target, Darth Torso keeping silent on the approach.


Darth Humerus closed his eyes, tapping a foot on the burning hot surface, he could feel it, underneath the soil. He rolled up his sleeves, not really necessary, but it was thematic, for he was about to do hard work™.


Throwing a hand forward dramatically, he tilted his head back, intoning deeply, "Rise again! Rise from the depths at the call of power!"


He slowly let his hand rise, sand, soil and ash parting as metal rose up through the soil, a sunken star ship, the size of a cruiser, slowly rising up to cacophonous noise as an avalanche of soil fell to the sides.


"That's impossible…." Darth Torso squeaked, his astonishment and jealousy flaring out in the force.


Darth Humerus grinned widely as he rotated the ship in the sky, slowly lowering his hand, bringing it down to rest on top of the soil, "Well, I realize you have certain issues with getting it 'up' but not all Sith have that problem." He said cheerfully, beginning to trek forward, feeling the 'mind' he recognized inside.


"By the by, who's old wrinkly face that all your minions were crying to?" He asked casually, as he rent armor playing asunder with a gesture, strolling onwards into the ship without breaking stride.


"... The Emperor." Darth Torso squeaked reluctantly, before vicious pleasure, mixed with hate flared up, "He will destroy you!"


Darth Humerus snorted, "He's welcome to try, it would be thematic, Sith Emperor's do keep trying to kill me." He didn't bother with finding the right way forward, continuing to simply tear plating aside, heading straight for his target.


Darth Torso seemed very perturbed at that, going silent as he pondered what he'd heard. Darth Humerus could feel the stench of jealousy flaring up again. This Sith really was a big bundle of neuroses wasn't he? He'd have fit in perfectly, back in Dromund Kaas.


He tore his way into the bridge, calling out cheerfully, while sending a spark of lightning into the electronics in a way that didn't blow them up, "HK-47, you old bucket of bolts, wake up!"


Some of the systems booted up, at the very lowest setting, as there was a mechanical grinding noise over the speakers, before a voice replied back.


"Resigned Statement: Reports of your death were faulty, as expected."


Darth Humerus knocked against a console with his knuckles, "You know better HK, and you know… I don't want to be rude… But have you put on weight?" He gestured to the cruiser around them, a shit eating grin on his face, facial tendrils twitching in amusement.


"Hopeful statement: Have you arrived to assist in a return to optimal lethality?"


Tch, of course he doesn't even care about the joke… Not enough murder in it I guess…


Darth Humerus hummed in thought, "I dunno, you kept trying to kill me…" It wasn't successful of course, but he'd done better than most Sith.


"Dry statement: That criteria includes every sentient being that met you, master."


"Rude, but true… And don't think calling me master will sweet talk me into…" He paused briefly, chuckling, "Heh, what the hell, why not?" Darth Humerus couldn't even pretend that he wouldn't love to have the murderous droid at his side for a bit.


He was, after all, hilarious.


"Excited declaration: We will bathe the starways in blood, master!"


"Well, maybe, we'll see how it goes." Darth Humerus said mildly, "First you'll need a body…"


Darth Torso took this chance to screech out, "This can not be that HK-47, the one that followed Darth Revan!?" Even sounding like a cute little girl, he sounded absolutely enraged.


"Smug assertion: I am HK-47, fluent in over nine billion means of destroying meatbags such as yourself."


"Oh nice! You've added a couple hundred million since last time." Darth Humerus said appreciatively.


"It's impossible…"


"Don't mind him, he's very stuck on that word, he's this world's Sith Lord, a little too stuck in his ways really." Darth Humerus explained, pulling Darth Torso over his shoulder and depositing him on one of the consoles.


"Query: Do you often utilize Sith Lords as backpacks?"


Before he could answer, HK-47 continued,


"Covetous query: Can I have a Sith Lord as a backpack, master?"


Darth Humerus laughed, even as he felt the absolute storm of negative emotions from his captive. "Not even in a body yet, and you're already wanting even more favors from me, HK?"


He caressed Darth Torso's helmet, "No… I believe this is mine, get your own."


Funnily enough he could literally feel Darth Torso growing stronger in the dark side of the force from the constant humiliation, fear, anger and jealousy he was steeped in.


Too bad it wouldn't do anything to him. If only he'd had run into literally any other Sith perhaps, but such was the force - a fickle bitch that kept erasing hundreds of trillions of lifeforms, just to start over again when they all inevitably just did the same thing all over again.


"Well, let's get you into a body again, eh?" He said, before they could get sidetracked again, clapping his hands together, looking around the bridge.


Now… Where would a droid body be…?


＊＊＊


Some time later, moving away from the downed ship,


"Enraged protest: Master, there is a droid factory nearby with bodies to my exact specifications!"


"Yes, so you've said." Darth Humerus agreed amiably.


"Disgusted query: Then why am I relegated to this?"


The body in question was an ancient astromech droid that had a voice box cobbled together from a half bisected protocol droid.


"Because it's funny." Darth Humerus said, giving him an odd look, "It's almost like you've forgotten about me, old friend." Friend, enemy, basically the same thing.


HK-47, the astromech with not a single weapon, trudged along sullenly behind him. Darth Torso strapped to its back with a magnetic clamp, at least fulfilling the droid's wish in some manner.


It also made their travels take forever as the ancient droid wasn't handling the extra weight well, but he had all the time in the world.


Darth Humerus peered up at the destroyer that had descended into the atmosphere critically.


Well, perhaps not all the time in the world.


It would be somewhat of an annoyance to be turbolasered again.


"I could throw this droid into that lava flow…" Darth Torso threatened, as they passed a particularly large river of said substance. "If you wish to keep it so badly, I will destroy it!"


He'd been unsuccessful with Darth Humerus as he couldn't really do much against him, other than perhaps tickle him. But HK-47 did not have such protections in this body - although he would eventually have some measure of protection. Darth Humerus had been forced to promise a beskar body for him, to get him to even stomach the idea to transfer into the astromech.


Hence why he wasn't bothering hitting up that droid factory HK was talking about, because it was just an added trip for another body that would be discarded soon enough anyway.


"HK-47, this is a classical case of the mental deficiency present in the entire subspecies of Sith." Darth Humerus began lecturing, stopping to look down at Darth Torso with a dry look, "You see, they can not fathom any interaction that does not include a threat in some way, even when it's absolutely ridiculously foolish of them to do so."


"Sarcastic agreement: Throwing the droid you're magnetically attached to into lava, fits with the level of planning I've encountered in Sith."


Darth Torso refused to say anything, even as they stood there in silence, only the sound of the moving magma around them.


"Well, since he's apparently decided not to commit suicide, I suppose we continue on." Darth Humerus said cheerfully, turning to continue on his way.


Since they'd so nicely parked a destroyer in close vicinity, they might as well go up and visit them.


They seemed very reluctant to blow up Darth Torso, since he'd faced no manner of bombing so far, so they wouldn't shoot down a shuttle carrying him. They might even be nice enough to tractor beam them so he didn't have to fly too far.


He had been a Sith Lord for hundreds of years, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd actually flown something by himself.


But it couldn't be that hard.


＊＊＊


Mustafar burned.


Well… More than usual.


In his defense, he hadn't flown for a really really long time.


According to the ships logs he'd accessed, thousands of years actually, so really, he'd done quite well since they were all in one piece.


The destroyer… Not so much.


"Well… They're sending reinforcements anyway, so we're fine." Darth Humerus said sheepishly.


"This is impossible…"


Approving statement: "Your ability to break meatbags has improved, master."


He'd have to be a little more careful with whatever ship they sent next…


They had some time to wait, so he might as well get to tinkering with Darth Torso, making him somewhat useful, since he seemed to be even more useless than he had expected, breaking from such minor things.


It's not like tossing star destroyers around was even that special.


＊＊＊


One standard month later,


Dantooine, seedy cantina.


Ashoka Tano played with the mug of some indiscernible liquid that was supposed to be caf. She certainly wasn't about to drink it to find out.


Her face was completely covered by her cowled robe, as she sat in a corner booth, just waiting.


An imperial star destroyer had appeared above the city, so her plans to scout out some promising people in town would have to wait.


She also couldn't help but feel a slight tension, wondering if this was it. If they had discovered her.


If this was the time she'd face Darth Vader, the slayer of Jedi.


She doubted it, because surely she'd feel him, feel the darkness and evil in the force if he was here, on the planet.


"My… You're one lovely specimen aren't you?" A voice purred from right beside her in the booth!"


Ashoka didn't do anything so foolish as draw her lightsabers or vault over the table, even if she really wanted to, but she did scoot away to give herself space, turning to lambast whatever fool had surprised her. Really, was she so concerned over Darth Vader that she hadn't felt someone sitting down right next to her.


Whatever biting remark she was going to make, was choked down as she saw the others in the booth with her.


An honest to the force, Pureblood Sith, not something often seen in the galaxy anymore - she only knew about the species due to her Jedi upbringing.


They also had the weirdest astromech droid she'd ever seen standing by the booth, two articulated arms attached to its chassis that was holding on to a rifle the size of a Wookies arm, the droid absolutely covered in magnetically attached thermal detonators.


… Were they suicidal? One shot…


Neither of those two extremely odd things were what had her choking on her tongue however.


Darth fracking Vader was sitting on the table, just a torso and a head!


This close, now free from whatever had hidden her guests from her force senses, he was unmistakable, his dark force presence almost drowning her.


Darth Vader was suddenly slapped over his helmeted head by the Pureblood Sith, who frowned angrily at him, "Knock it off Darth Torso, you're not ruining another date for me!"


The oppressing feeling vanished, and Ashoka had a lot of mixed feelings. Darth Torso! What!? Darth Vader is here! Also…


"This is not a date, and also what?" She said frankly, in deadpan, pointing at Darth Vader.


"It could be one, trust me sweetheart, I have tricks up my sleeve that's been outlawed in all respectable systems." The Pureblood Sith winked at her, and Ashoka had to remember her Jedi teachings to prevent any overt reaction to this bizarre situation.


"Darth Vader!?" She said, seriously, pointing again at the fracking Dark Lord of the Sith.


"Pleased statement: You've broken another meatbag, Master."


"HK, hush, I'm working on some real dicey diplomacy here, either help or shut up!" The red skinned man hissed at the violent looking droid, Ashoka watching almost detachedly, still not recovered from what she was seeing.


"Statement: Charging weapons for maximum diplomacy."


"No weapons! I already have a fully loaded one, heh."


Gross, Ashoka managed to think, before her mind returned to the more important issue.


"Darth Vader can't be here! How?" Ashoka repeated, stabbing her finger forward, leaning over the table.


The red skinned man stroked a facial tendril as he laid an arm over the torso of Darth Vader. "Sure he can, he's very useful, see I just press this button here…" He pressed a button on the lit up torso, and a slot opened up, something falling into the man's hand.


He held it out to Ashoka, and her eyes widened, seeing the wrapper with XXL in bold writing.


"You're using Darth Vader as a condom dispenser?" She shouted, rearing back in shock and disgust.


"Of course, If I'm going to be lugging him around he needs to be useful." The red skinned man said, sounding wounded at her reaction.


"... Also he's kind of a giant dick, so I thought it would be thematic."


＊＊＊


Authors note:


Don't ask me what I was smoking when I wrote this up, just a cracky thought I had.


Definitely do not in anyway take this seriously or point out the impossibilities of things. This is definitely something crazy just written up for a lark.


Cheers


JollyHippopotamus

 

[ArsMagna1337]

Darth Torso

Click to shrink...

My sides have officially left the stratosphere.

 

[JollyHippopotamus]

My sides have officially left the stratosphere.

Click to shrink...

I'm glad you liked it, I almost thought I made it too silly, but people don't seem to mind so far.

 

[ebolasos]

I'm glad you liked it, I almost thought I made it too silly, but people don't seem to mind so far.

Click to shrink...

Always good to have a star wars story that doesn't take itself seriously, had me chuckling through out the read.

 

[deadal]

this one is strong in the sticky side of the Force.