Wyvern - Worm AU fanfic

[edale]

The Slaughterhouse Nine arc.
Wherein Jack Slash learns why one must never tickle a sleeping dragon.
And Crawler gets splashed with ketchup.

 

[macdjord]

We're down to seven members, thanks to Cherish murdering both Hatchet Face and Mannequin for a place in our ranks after we'd already lost Winter.

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Ack: This bit is kinda awkward. Too blatant a case of As You Know, Bob. Maybe Jack just says 'We're down to 7 thanks to Cherish' and then work the identities of the two dead ones into Cherish's response?

"The counsel for the plaintiff will kindly sit down." Without even looking at her, the judge kept his attention on the other lawyer. "Mr. Richardson, that audio evidence was analysed the moment I became aware of it. It is the considered opinion of my sound experts that it could only have been faked with the explicit cooperation of each of the people whose voices appear on it. Kindly do not attempt to denigrate my intelligence in this way. Now, did you have anything else you would like to add?"

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The court doesn't do this sort of evidence analysis. It's just not their job. The court only looks at the evidence submitted by the two parties. If Brandish wanted to have a reputable forensic firm verify the evidence, she could then submit their report, or have one of them take the stand to testify that the recording is genuine.

May I suggest, in the future, that you have someone with actual legal experience check over your courtroom- and lawyer-related scenes before you post them? I know there are a number of people on SB who are, in fact, professional lawyers; I'm sure you could find someone willing to give your stuff a once-over.


As for the fight... I honestly found it rather unsatisfying. Having her pull new powers out like that just felt like a deus ex machina.

 

[Ack]

Ack: This bit is kinda awkward. Too blatant a case of As You Know, Bob. Maybe Jack just says 'We're down to 7 thanks to Cherish' and then work the identities of the two dead ones into Cherish's response?


The court doesn't do this sort of evidence analysis. It's just not their job. The court only looks at the evidence submitted by the two parties. If Brandish wanted to have a reputable forensic firm verify the evidence, she could then submit their report, or have one of them take the stand to testify that the recording is genuine.

May I suggest, in the future, that you have someone with actual legal experience check over your courtroom- and lawyer-related scenes before you post them? I know there are a number of people on SB who are, in fact, professional lawyers; I'm sure you could find someone willing to give your stuff a once-over.


As for the fight... I honestly found it rather unsatisfying. Having her pull new powers out like that just felt like a deus ex machina.

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I'll look over the courtroom stuff.

As for the powers, she's a dragon ex machina. Get it right

But seriously, she upgrades when she hits a too-hard opponent. That's been a theme.

 

[Death by Chains]

Besides, how many people - including Ack, if I'm not mistaken - complain that the inevitable S9 arc is always one of the most tiresome of any Worm fic? If Jack and his crew of psychos get unceremoniously Wyvern'd in this case, so much the better. It lets the narrative (and readers) move on to villains and conflicts and story-telling opportunities we actually care about. Besides, the less screen-time wasted on those wannabes, the less we feed their narcissism and fun-sucking antics.

 

[GriffinMan44556]

Y'know, I always dread the S9 arcs of stories because they so often make them drag out, and it's part of why they're one of the least interesting parts of the Worm World, one I generally skip over.
Watching Taylor just absolutely barrel them over like the 12 ton quadriped she is was rather great.
Eagerly awaiting more.

 

[macdjord]

Besides, how many people - including Ack, if I'm not mistaken - complain that the inevitable S9 arc is always one of the most tiresome of any Worm fic? If Jack and his crew of psychos get unceremoniously Wyvern'd in this case, so much the better. It lets the narrative (and readers) move on to villains and conflicts and story-telling opportunities we actually care about. Besides, the less screen-time wasted on those wannabes, the less we feed their narcissism and fun-sucking antics.

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My complaint isn't about the length - though I'll admit that one possible solution would have to make the arc longer so as to give Taylor more time to develop the abilities she needs to win, to make the victory fell more earned. But the battle as given would have worked fine if all the relevant abilities had been properly established or foreshadowed. I'd have no objection to her developing ice powers to defeat Burnscar if she had previously demonstrated that she could develop whole new powers (not just 'get bigger and stronger') in response to need. I'd have no objection to her no-selling Cherish by letting the beast take over if we'd had previous interactions with Regent foreshadowing that she could do that.

Alternately, the battle would have worked just fine if she hadn't developed those new abilities out of nowhere, and instead won by a combination of Getting Bigger in Response to Threat and having the cavalry come to the rescue thanks to her having secretly managed to pass that message to the rest of New Wave.

 

[Morkail]

Crawler got tossed into the van, accidentally killing William Manton.

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Ok I did not notice that and that's rather funny does she have luck as a power or was she really that lucky here. Thanks for pointing that out.

 

[SlickRCBD]

He's willing to break the rules when it benefits him, yes, but he's not the type to casually disregard them. Like, if Miss Militia's alert had come from somewhere else, I could see him pretending he'd never received it so he could instead continue on and arrest Taylor instead of responding. Or if, after receiving the message and realising the fight was probably started by Shadow Stalker, he might willfully ignore that conclusion in order to have an excuse to arrest Taylor - though you'd have to explain why he thought press-ganging her was still viable at that point; he's not stupid, and 'I thought she started it' might excuse an arrest but it wouldn't justify a forced recruitment.

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Sure it would. Two words: Excessive Force. Especially if this is a State with a "Duty to Retreat". Such duties are doubled in a K-12 school if you are a student as you lose your "right" to self-defense when in a school. If threatened a student is supposed to run away and tell a teacher and under NO circumstances hit back. Let the Authorities (usually teachers or hall monitors) handle it.

Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste great with ketchup.

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When people find out about Crawler's fate, I wouldn't be surprised if somebody sends Wyvern the biggest bottle of ketchup on the market.

 

[edale]

When people find out about Crawler's fate, I wouldn't be surprised if somebody sends Wyvern the biggest bottle of ketchup on the market.

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Someone? C'mon, we all KNOW it's gonna be either Clockblocker or Assault... Probably both.

 

[kentter]

So, about court procedure...

First, I assume that the proceeding against Emma is a criminal case. In a criminal case, there is no plaintiff, but rather a prosecutor. The offense is not against the victims, but against the state.

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I'm pretty the current case is a civil suit and any criminal case is still in the works. I think this is just for damages and to force a judgment against them for their conduct which in turn is factored into the coming criminal case for jail time and proof of guilt.

Suspension of disbelief broken. No way a court decision takes less then a few weeks, regardless of how clear the outcome is.

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Normally you'd be right but given how many powerful fingers are in this pie and all of them not only want this done with pronto but are on one side it being given the fast track and placed at the top of the local courts work load over any and every other case is a given. When the whole system is pushing this out the door as fast as it can thing get done that normally take months or years with red tape and the usual slow grind.

 

[Ack]

I'm pretty the current case is a civil suit and any criminal case is still in the works. I think this is just for damages and to force a judgment against them for their conduct which in turn is factored into the coming criminal case for jail time and proof of guilt.

Normally you'd be right but given how many powerful fingers are in this pie and all of them not only want this done with pronto but are on one side it being given the fast track and placed at the top of the local courts work load over any and every other case is a given. When the whole system is pushing this out the door as fast as it can thing get done that normally take months or years with red tape and the usual slow grind.

Click to shrink...

I've done a little bit of a rewrite to smooth things out a little and make it slightly less blatant.

 

[Ack]

Wyvern

Part Twenty-One: Dealing With the Wyvern in the Room

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



PRT Building ENE
Director Emily Piggot
The Next Morning

"... court in the morning."

Emily hit Pause on the remote, so as to allow everyone present—Protectorate and Wards alike—to fully appreciate the gravity of the scene before them.

The screen in the conference room displayed two separate views of the summit of Captain's Hill. The angles were slightly different, and one was a little clearer than the other, but what each of them showed was unmistakeable. A draconic figure, red and gold markings identical to those in every photo ever taken of her, loomed over the parking area on top of the hill in a way that should have been frankly impossible at that range.

Providing even more evidence as to the scale involved, a tiny bright-coloured human form hovered next to the gargantuan muzzle. Everyone present knew who it was: Lady Photon. She appeared so tiny next to the immense creature that she would be able to stand on its lower eyelid and peer directly into its pupil.

Emily pressed the Play button again. Both images started rolling. Lady Photon clearly said something to Wyvern, because the immense reptilian eyeball rolled toward her. There was a chuckle in reply, clearly audible over the speakers, even from halfway across the city. "Maybe."

This time, Emily hit Stop, and the screens blanked.

"As we all know," she said, her voice carrying clearly to everyone in the room, "that happened last night."

"Oh, we know," Assault agreed readily enough. "So does everyone in Brockton Bay. There's a whole thread on PHO devoted to appeasing our new draconic overlord. Overlady. Whatever."

"Clock here applied for the position of her high priest," Kid Win added, hooking his thumb at his buddy.

"Hey!" protested the white-clad Ward. "I wasn't the only one!"

"Nicely done, kid." Assault turned to Armsmaster, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. "So, tell us again about your plan to take Wyvern under your wing and teach her how to find her true strengths."

"Found 'em," muttered Clockblocker, not quite softly enough to not be heard. Kid Win and Vista snickered quietly, along with Assault.

Armsmaster's jaw hardened, but he didn't respond to either Assault's smartass comment or Clockblocker's response. "We've been fortunate three times over," he stated. "First, Wyvern has expressed no interest in actually conquering the city by force. Second, she reduced in size back to regular human form shortly after the footage which we've just viewed. Third, all the hostages taken by the Nine were able to escape due to her assistance. Only one was harmed, and his injury has since been dealt with by Panacea."

"So, uh … does anyone have any idea of how big she actually got at the end there?" asked Velocity. "Because she looked pretty damn big to me."

Emily glanced at Armsmaster, and he took up the ball. "After consultation with Dragon, the consensus seems to be between six hundred fifty to seven hundred fifty feet, from tip of nose to tip of tail. The wings were never fully spread while in that form, but if the proportions were the same as when she is in her basic Wyvern form, her wingspan would be in excess of a thousand feet."

Kid Win made a choking noise. "Wait … so you're saying she was three times as long as a seven-four-seven?"

"And her wingspan was five times that of an airliner, yes," Armsmaster confirmed. "However, that brings up another issue. An empty seven-four-seven weighs a little in excess of two hundred fifty tons. I strongly suspect her body would be denser than that of an aluminum aircraft, so she would've massed perhaps forty to fifty times as much as the average Boeing jetliner, instead of merely twenty-seven times. For reference, blue whales are about a hundred feet long, and weigh about two hundred tons."

"So, at full size she would weigh somewhere between ten and twelve thousand tons," Emily retorted, after doing a little mental math. "Let's hope she doesn't choose to perch on any buildings we happen to want, once she gets that large again."

"I'm more hoping that nothing happens to get her to that size again," Miss Militia said. "Because if she does, and goes on a rampage, I'm not sure anything short of a nuke would suffice to subdue her. In fact, considering what we've seen of her durability against fire and explosions, that's not exactly a guarantee either."

"Yay," Assault interjected, deadpan. "So, the only way to save the city would be to destroy the city."

Battery didn't even bother elbowing him for that one. "I hope we're not planning on a pre-emptive strike? Especially on someone who literally destroyed the Slaughterhouse Nine in about ten minutes?"

Emily folded her hands together on the table. "It's something we must at least consider the possibility of. Wyvern has specifically chosen not to join the Wards, and has shown that she can escalate far beyond our capacity to easily respond. I'm sure everyone here has paid attention to the fact that each time she gets pushed to a higher level, she can reach that level again much more easily."

"Wait, wait," Gallant interjected. "It might not be my place to say this, but let's just keep in mind that the only people who have pushed Wyvern to excessive level of violence so far have been Inago, Shadow Stalker, and the Slaughterhouse Nine, all of whom tried to hurt people she obviously cared for. Why are we even talking about taking her down for something she might be capable of doing?"

"Kid's got a point," Assault noted idly. "Sure, Wyvern's got the potential to level the city. But the thing is, most of us in this room have that to a greater or lesser degree, given enough prep time and a damn good reason. You don't see the PRT hanging over our shoulders, ready to pull the trigger just in case we suddenly decide to snap one fine day. Who are you going to aim this 'capable of causing great damage' BS at next? The Triumvirate? Because I want a ringside seat when you do."

Emily twitched. Assault was almost certainly exaggerating, but she was never comfortable when even heroic capes spoke in this way. In her mind, it was all too easy for braggadocio to become hard reality, especially when powers were involved.

Battery seemed to be thinking that way as well. "Not funny," she muttered to her husband.

"Wasn't joking. And I wasn't finished. Like I said, sure, she could do it. But has she given us any reason to believe she wants to? I haven't seen it. She's happy in New Wave, and they're pleased to have her. They care. And she cares about them."

"That doesn't reduce her capacity to cause immense destruction, should she choose to do so," Emily argued. Couldn't he see the point she was trying to get across?

"Exactly." Assault sat up from his habitual slump. "Choice. She's choosing to be very careful about the destruction she causes. Oni Lee and the Nine are the only people she's actually killed, and do you blame her for a single one of them? Because I certainly don't."

Emily sat forward, determined to regain the initiative. "When she first showed up, I wasn't overly worried because she was at best a B-rank cape. After Inago, it became a concern, because she'd jumped straight to A-rank status. Now, she's gone all the way to S-rank, capable of causing Endbringer-scale damage. Her potential for escalation is frankly worrying—"

Assault slapped the table, hard. From the way the sound boomed and echoed through the room, it was evident that he'd used his powers to amplify the impact. Slowly, he stood up and turned his head to take in everyone in the room.

"Wards. Out. What I've got to say isn't for you guys to hear."

Such was the authority in his tone—normally he went for 'cool uncle' but now his voice was hard and sharp—that even Clockblocker didn't register more than a token protest as he got up and left. The last one out was Triumph, who closed the door behind him.

Emily stared up at Assault. Once in a while, she'd seen his Madcap persona on display. It was only on rare occasions, and never boded well for whoever he was aiming it at. This was the first time he'd directed it her way, and she found she didn't like it.

"You can be worried," he growled. "But you do not get to let that translate into an excuse for an unofficial kill order on Taylor Hebert when she's not being Wyvern, or even when she is. She's a sweet kid, and she's done nothing to deserve that."

Emily felt anger surge through her, along with a tinge of guilt. "I was going to order no such thing—"

"Oh, bullshit." He hadn't sat down, and his tone was as cutting as before. "You were just going to express concern, and suggest a potential need for precautions. Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more. When Militia said a nuke might or might not take her down, you never turned a hair. Not a kill order, my well-toned left butt cheek. Since when are nukes the non-lethal option?"

"So, what would your solution be if Wyvern decided to go on a rampage at full power?" snapped Emily, stung into replying. "Wave pompoms?"

"Well, that would depend entirely on why," he said. "Endbringer attack? You can goddamn bet I'd be waving pompoms. Some other brain-dead fuckwit villain tries to force her to work for them by kidnapping her loved ones? I'd help her end them. But if it turned out that someone with more brass than brains decided that her very existence was too much of an existential threat for their tiny little minds, and tried to remove her from the running just because, and they'd miscalculated and hurt the people she loved, and thus triggered the rampage that way ..." He flicked his visor up and leaned forward on his knuckles, his eyes fixed on Emily's. "Refer to previous answer."

He meant every word; she could tell that much, at least. She forced herself to breathe steadily. This was not the first time she'd felt threatened by a cape, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

When she spoke, her voice sounded alien to her ears. "So noted. Now sit down, before I have Armsmaster put you on report for insubordination." She wasn't about to do it—for all his freewheeling nature, he was a damn good hero—but her authority needed to be maintained.

Slowly, he sat down, the grim set of his mouth gradually relaxing. With one finger, he flicked his visor down again. "Sure, you can do that. And I can repeat this conversation verbatim to whoever wants to know why I'm on report this time."

Which neither of them wanted. It was a mutually assured fuck-you, and they both knew it.

"We'll continue to monitor the Wyvern situation at a distance," she observed neutrally. "If New Wave gets worried, that's when we'll get worried. Armsmaster, did you have anything else to add, regarding the Slaughterhouse Nine incident?"

Armsmaster glanced from Assault to Emily, then cleared his throat. "There is something that has me concerned. At lower size levels, she deals exclusively in fire, though the power is expressed in a few different ways. However, per the witness statements, when fighting Burnscar she manifested a differently patterned wyvern form that had the same mastery over ice and cold as her standard form does over fire."

"That's something I've been thinking about," Dauntless said. "Could it be that her Changer form is integrated with an adaptive Trump power of some type? She's locked into the wyvern pattern, but when she encounters an out of context problem, her powerset literally figures out a way to counter it, and forces her through an upgrade that lets her beat it?"

Emily considered that. It would certainly fit the events as she understood them. "And so when she was fighting Crawler, her power had to literally evolve direct disintegration of matter to the subatomic level in order to beat him."

"Which would mean her breath would likely have the same effect," Armsmaster agreed. "I studied the crater she left behind when she disintegrated Jack Slash and Bonesaw. The ground was smooth. All I could find, even with the most delicate of instrumentation, was that there'd been some kind of destructive event that left no trace materials behind; no excess heat, no acid, nothing. There's a good chance she only has access to the disintegration effect when she's at that size; anything smaller, and her body wouldn't be able to sustain it."

That was both good news and bad news. Good, in that the human-sized version of Wyvern would not be able to casually disintegrate muggers. Bad, in that she would easily be able to regain the immense form, now that she had attained it once. She briefly envisaged Wyvern disintegrating half a building by accident and knocking over the other half with a body-check, then shut down the mental image with a well-concealed shudder. Just one more thing that I've got to worry about.

"Was that everything?" she asked. "I seem to recall a mention of a stray bystander killed during the fight, but I didn't get any details then."

Miss Militia nodded. "Yes. He was apparently camping in a van a little way down the hill. Wyvern's statement, passed on by Lady Photon, says she didn't see him until she accidentally threw Crawler on top of him. She blames herself."

Armsmaster lifted his head slightly, in the pose that said he was reading off his helmet HUD. Emily disliked when he did that; he could at least wait until he wasn't in a conversation with other people in the room. His words, however, arrested her attention. "They've since confirmed the identity of the civilian DOA. Doctor William Manton's been missing for years, believed dead. What are the odds that he would show up now, camping literally one hundred yards away from the Slaughterhouse Nine?"

Emily blinked, her irritation following the clash with Assault vanishing in an instant. "Manton? As in, the Doctor William Manton? You're right; that's not something I would personally call a coincidence, especially where capes of that calibre are concerned. Do they have any ideas?"

"Nothing concrete," Armsmaster replied. "The updated report, and everything they've got appended to it, has been sent to everyone's inboxes."

"Good." Assault leaned back again. "This doesn't change much. At worst, he was a regrettable casualty of the conflict, but I really don't think so. Much more likely, he was somehow connected to the Nine and got what he deserved. Either way, there's no way I'm going to be Monday-morning-quarterbacking the girl who took on the Nine and quite literally wiped them off the face of the Earth, when the best Protectorate and PRT efforts came up zip." And you'd better not try it either, he didn't say.

Emily nodded to acknowledge his points, both spoken and unspoken. At the very least, Wyvern had earned the reward for ending the Nine once and for all, even if the Siberian had escaped the clean sweep. "Understood. Did anyone have anything else?"

Nobody did. Assault stood up with Battery alongside him, and nodded to Armsmaster. "I'll brief the Wards on what they missed."

Which meant, Emily knew, he'd tone it down to just the right level. He'd always been good with the youngsters. Better than her or Armsmaster, at any rate.

She'd stick with the unspoken agreement she'd formed with Assault, her own feelings on the subject notwithstanding. Teenage girl or no teenage girl, Wyvern was dangerous. But Assault couldn't or wouldn't see that, which meant that no precautionary actions would be taken for the time being, not until they had official permission from above.

She just hoped they wouldn't end up regretting it.

Also, that nobody else would do anything stupid.

<><>​

Kaiser

"What. The. Fuck?" Max Anders pointed at the widescreen image that showed the clearest PHO image available of Wyvern perched on top of Captain's Hill. "Did anyone know she could grow that big?"

Hookwolf shook his head. "Uh, no. After Inago, she could get as big as a moving van, but that was about it. What you've got there's a whole new level of fuck-that."

Stormtiger elbowed him in the ribs. "C'mon, man. You're always talking up how tough you are. You could take her."

"Fuck you." Hookwolf elbowed him in return, twice as hard. "She ate Crawler alive. Crawler. Then she toasted Jack Slash with that weird purple fire. They said there's nothing left of him. Hard pass."

Max banged on the table with a metal-clad fist. "I'm not asking who can't take her. That list basically includes everyone in Brockton Bay. I'm asking for any ideas about dealing with her, if she decides to come after us."

"We're going to have to be very careful about it," Krieg advised. "She's reportedly durable, even at normal size. At that scale, her ability to absorb damage is probably greater that Fenja's and Menja's combined. And her destructive capability is greater than everyone present combined. If we struck at her while she was in that form, she would almost certainly survive, and her retaliation would probably prove fatal to whoever the idiot was, plus everyone behind them."

"I'm not scared of fire," boasted Alabaster. "Gimme a big enough MANPAD, and I'll put a hole right through her."

"First, she is impressively agile in the air, and could probably dodge it altogether," Krieg replied. "Second, her durability versus explosions is a matter of record. Third, I am dubious as to whether your vaunted reset ability would survive being reduced to subatomic particles, which is what I suspect that 'weird purple fire' actually does."

Max knew the Empire could probably source the man-portable air-defence missiles Alabaster was talking about, but those things were very expensive and would likely draw Federal attention. If the Empire had a Tinker of their own, that would've made things a lot easier—the ABB and Roadhog's Crew both had Tinkers, which he considered to be the height of unfairness—but they didn't, so there was no sense bitching about it.

"I could make Purity invulnerable," Othala offered. "She could probably do a lot of damage before it wore off."

It was a tempting suggestion, and Max wished he didn't have to shoot it down. "Good idea but like Krieg said, Wyvern's insanely agile in the air. Also, durable even at low levels. If she didn't kill Wyvern immediately, she'd be facing something that could damn near rip the Medhall building out of the ground and fly off with it. At that level, chances are that Wyvern could tank the hits until Purity ran out of invulnerability. And finally, my beloved wife is still out there playing hero, trying to hunt down Geonchugga and round up the last of the ABB before Inago gets out of lockup. If he ever does. So she's not likely to even want to take on Wyvern until that's done with, if ever."

Crusader had stayed quiet all this time—it hadn't even needed to be said that his ghosts were unlikely to be overly effective on someone like Wyvern—but now he roused himself. "So nobody else is gonna say it, huh?"

Max looked at him. He knew the brash youngster reasonably well, and had an idea of what Crusader was referring to, but there was such as thing as plausible deniability. "Nobody is going to say what, exactly?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Crusader rolled his eyes. "We pull a Fleur on her. Find out her real name and where she lives, then put someone on her. When she least expects it, they gank her. Make it look like a mugging gone wrong or something. They don't even have to know it's Wyvern. Just someone we wanted dead."

Max stayed quiet, watching the others as they reacted to Crusader's words. He could see the appeal in the idea, and indeed he'd given the go-ahead for Fleur's killer to be inducted into the Empire Eighty-Eight after the young lout served his prison term. But it had ever been his way to read the room and go with the majority opinion, acting as though it had been his intention all along.

Not everyone would like it, he was sure. It just remained to be seen whether or not the dissenters managed to win enough people over to their point of view.

"You're shitting me, right?" Hookwolf's tone was full of disgust. "Just like that? Stab her and slab her? What the fuck's wrong with you?"

Crusader recoiled at Hookwolf's tone. "What? What are you talking about? You've killed people before. Last month, I watched you skin a cop alive."

Hookwolf bunched his fists, metal blades sliding into place to cover his forearms. "Yeah, but every asshole I ever offed, they saw me coming. I don't stab anyone in the back from the get-go. It's a fucking coward's act. Never have, never will."

"Well, maybe some of us don't have powers always protecting us!" The 'coward' comment had scored on Crusader, Max could tell. "Sometimes it's just the smart move!"

"I'm with Hook." That was Stormtiger. "I expected better of you, Crusader. Maybe the squishies can gank someone from surprise and feel good about themselves after, but we're better than them. More powerful. We don't need that edge. I go out to kill some motherfucker, I'm gonna look 'em in the eye first."

"Like Crusader said, some of us don't have that option," Rune objected. "I've seen her in action. If I went up against her at her normal size, she'd outfly me, then scorch me down to a cinder. I'd never win if I didn't get the drop on her first."

"From where I'm sitting, that's a you problem," Cricket interjected, idly spinning one of her kama around her hand. "Have you tried not being a whiny bitch?"

"Now, now, that's not fair." But Victor's voice held a tinge of amusement. "I know I wouldn't go up against her without one of Othala's enhancements. But maybe we're getting ahead of ourselves. She might not even care about us. Someone with that kind of power-up? That's major Protectorate material. Hell, that's Triumvirate material."

Slowly, Max nodded. "True. And the reverse is also a factor."

Krieg frowned and looked over at him. "The reverse?"

"Last night's little show would absolutely have put her on the Triumvirate's radar," Max explained. "Someone who could ramp up hard enough to turn Crawler into a tasty meat snack, and Jack Slash into individual atoms drifting on the breeze? They have to be paying attention to Brockton Bay right now. If nothing else, they'd have little Endbringer-shaped dollar signs in their eyes. So, I'm guessing they're drawing straws right at this moment to see who comes to town to ask her pretty please would she join in the next fight. And if we happened to remove her from consideration before they got here … I'm not willing to bet on their kind and forgiving natures. Are you?"

An extremely thoughtful silence fell across the gathered villains. Hookwolf broke it first. "A grand on Hero."

"What?" asked Crusader, totally blindsided by the non-sequitur.

"I'm betting a thousand bucks that it's Hero who comes to town," Hookwolf said patiently. "Who wants some of this action?"

"Two grand on Alexandria, for me," Cricket replied. "They'll send a girl, duh."

Max sat back and smiled secretly to himself as the battle lines were drawn. It seemed money would change hands no matter which member of the Triumvirate showed up, though it was telling that nobody had any faith in Eidolon to be the one. Not that he blamed them; since Legend quit the Protectorate, the man had hardly appeared in public at all.

Whatever happened from this point on, he would wait and see.

It was a sound course of action, one that had worked for him so far.

<><>​

Taylor

When court convened the next morning, I was wearing one of Vicky's dresses, the Nine having successfully managed to destroy all of my clothing that I hadn't wrecked so far. Dad had been wearing his glasses when he was kidnapped, and I could get by with fake frames thanks to Amy's fix job on my eyes, so we weren't having to squint to see anything. We'd been put up in PRT accommodation overnight, ostensibly for observation, and I for one had had a good night's sleep.

Which I had desperately needed. Getting that big had somehow left me with phantom muscle strains all over, to the point that I was horribly cramped the next morning. It took me about twenty minutes under a steaming hot shower (in Taylor Hebert form, not Wyvern form) to loosen up to the point that it didn't hurt when I moved anymore. Even then, I was still creaky as an old door as I got in the car (with a PRT driver; our actual car was in the shop, getting the window replaced and the side panels repainted) to go to court.

Getting out at the courthouse, I felt a little better. Then I spotted Emma and her dad with their lawyer. She saw me, I raised an eyebrow, and she literally hid behind him.

"Danny, Taylor, it's good to see you." Carol Dallon was looking very pleased with herself. "How are you doing after last night?"

Dad held up his hand and wriggled his fingers; Amy had fixed it completely after what Burnscar had done to it. "Better than I was, thanks to Amy. Ready to get this done."

I nodded in agreement. "What he said. Tell Sarah thanks for her pep-talk. It really helped." With other people present, of course, we had to watch what we said.

Carol beamed at me. "You can tell her yourself when you see her. How are you feeling, after what you ate last night?"

Was I suffering from having eaten Crawler, she meant.

"No problems at all," I assured her. "Sometimes, my stomach is just a bottomless pit. I had bacon and eggs this morning. Not too bad, actually."

"Good, good. Well, we should be getting inside. Time and court appearances wait for no man or woman."

"Well, you're having a good morning," I observed with a grin.

Carol nodded. "It helps when our newest and flashiest member destroys a notorious team of villains. New Wave is very definitely the flavour of the month."

We headed on in. Every time I saw Emma, she did her best to keep her father between us. That was mildly amusing, especially when he saw what she was doing and made her put a stop to it.

As soon as we got inside, their lawyer headed over to speak to one of the court officials. Carol went to have a word with another one. While she ws doing that, Alan Barnes sat Emma down in her seat, then came over toward us.

Ms. Castle, the county prosecutor, intercepted him before he reached us. "Mr. Barnes, it's not a good idea for you to speak to the witnesses for the prosecution without prior permission."

"I don't care." He was neatly dressed but this close, he did not look well rested. The bags under his eyes could've held enough luggage for a round-the-world trip. "I need to talk to Danny and Taylor."

"That depends on them." Ms. Castle looked back at us. "Mr. Hebert, Ms. Hebert?"

Dad glanced at me; I shrugged. "Sure. Let's hear it."

"Thank you." He came up to us, glanced at Ms. Castle, and grimaced. There was evidently a great deal he wanted to say, most of which was constrained by our lawyer's presence. Dad and I just waited; it wasn't our job to make his life easier. "I … I, uh, did a lot of thinking last night. After the thing … with the Nine … and Wyvern."

So far, he was colouring inside the lines, so Dad threw him a bone. Tilting his head, he gave Mr. Barnes a look of interest. "I was there too, you know. What exactly were you thinking about?"

More grimacing. "Jack Slash tried to get Wyvern to burn me and Emma alive, just because he could. She refused, and took on those monsters instead. She saved our lives." When we've done nothing to deserve it, his tone said loud and clear.

"She did." Dad's tone was noncommittal. "Saved mine, too, and Kurt's, and Lacey's. What's your point?"

"Life's too short for things like this to waste time on." Alan Barnes looked from Dad to me. "I've sent Richardson to pass on a message to the judge, that Emma and I have spoken about it, and we're changing her plea to guilty. The Clementses already know about this, and they're doing the same with Madison. Whatever Sophia wants to do is her own business. I wash my hands of her."

Ms. Castle blinked. "Well, that's definitely going to streamline matters today," she observed. "Mr. Hebert, Ms. Hebert, do you have a problem with this?"

Dad and I shared another glance; again, I shrugged. "Not especially," I said. "I was already over this whole thing anyway. But thanks for putting in the hard work for us."

She favoured me with a professional smile. "This case is one of the easier ones I've had to work for in quite some time. There's a certain amount of satisfaction to be found in fighting the opposition down to the wire, but it's also nice when they just throw in the towel."

Dad fronted up to Mr. Barnes. "Alan," he said quietly, "I say this as one father to another. Get Emma some professional help. She needs it."

"Yeah." It was clear Mr. Barnes didn't like the idea, but he was coming around to it. "Me too, probably."

We watched as he headed back to Emma and sat down beside her, then Ms. Castle looked at Dad and me. "Time to take your seats," she advised. "Even though he's entering a guilty plea, we've still got to do this by the book. Though that was likely the most exciting part of the case, right there."

Dad nodded. "I can't argue with that."

I had to agree. Life was so much easier when people did the smart thing.

<><>​

Coil

Well, I definitely didn't expect that.

Thomas Calvert looked over his steepled fingers at the enlarged image of Wyvern looming over Captain's Hill. His plan to set up the PRT to look bad and/or push Wyvern closer to criminal activity (and thus separate her from New Wave, leaving her open to recruitment by himself) by railroading her back into the school she despised … had somehow fizzled. Wyvern and the PRT had come out of it smelling like roses, and the real villain of the piece had been exposed and captured. Winslow had indeed burned, but it wasn't Wyvern's doing.

And now … this.

He hadn't anticipated the Nine coming to town, but people rarely did. Every time someone got a tip they were on their way and the local capes got ready for them, they never showed. It had been part of their mystique. Well, not anymore. Their mystique was well and truly dead, just like them.

Wyvern's mystique, on the other hand, had acquired whole new volumes. What she could do, and how she could do it, was now very much in the forefront of his mind. He knew who she was, where she lived, and her entire scholastic record back to first grade. That part was no mystery to him.

The six-hundred-forty-million-dollar question currently consuming his every thought process was this:

How do I get her to work for me?

It was very simple. She was far and away the most powerful cape in Brockton Bay, and indeed everywhere north of New York. Which gave him three choices for dealing with her. As a member of New Wave, he couldn't ignore her; sooner or later, they'd turn their attention to him. Which meant he had to make preparations to either leave town, suborn her to his cause, or remove her from the board altogether.

Fleeing Brockton Bay was the least palatable of the options. It would mean abandoning his entire operation, endangering his standing within the local PRT, and most likely leaving behind the cape teams he had under his sway. He could start again elsewhere, but it would be tedious at best.

On the other hand, bringing her into his stable of capes would catapult him into a position head and shoulders above every other mover and shaker in Brockton Bay and the surrounding region. By contrast, it was the best of all possible options, but he had no idea how to pull it off. When the Slaughterhouse Nine bounty payout came in, she'd be more financially well-off than he was, so offering her money would not be an option. She'd managed to avoid committing any egregious crimes, so blackmail was off the table as well.

Killing her was the simplest means of removing her from consideration as a threat. Which was why half a dozen of his men were sitting in a parked van not far from the out-of-the-way motel the PRT maintained for just this sort of purpose. His men were wearing PRT uniforms and had current IDs, which would serve to get them close enough to the Heberts for whatever needed to be done. Removing the bodies and setting fire to the premises would sufficiently muddy the waters thereafter.

Still, he always liked to have a second option. Taking up his phone, he dialled a specific number. Tattletale answered promptly, of course. She knew better than to keep him waiting. "Yeah, boss?"

"Wyvern. Best approach for getting her away from New Wave and into my pocket."

There was a brief pause, during which time she no doubt accessed her power. It was useful, but he couldn't help thinking he'd do better with an actual precognitive. But he had to make do with what he had; it wasn't like one was going to just fall into his lap.

"Sorry, boss. Not gonna happen. She'll have more money than God in a few days, and even if you kidnapped her old man, she would keep trying to get him back until you either let him go or killed him. And killing him would drive her into a rage like you wouldn't believe. She would find you, and she would eat you alive."

The surety in her voice shook him to his core. "She wouldn't necessarily find me." He hadn't told her the exact capabilities of his power, but he knew she could make educated guesses, even without data.

"Yeah. She would. Her power adapts to the threat. If you were the threat, and she wanted to find you badly enough, she would evolve an ability to beat yours. Maybe it would shut you down, or maybe it would let her see what you're doing. Either way, she'd beat you."

The message was loud and clear. Well, shit. "Understood."

He went to say more but stopped, because the cold muzzle of a pistol had made contact with his temple, just in front of his left ear. Very slowly, he turned his head, to see a woman in a fedora. She gestured at the phone, and he ended the call.

He knew who she was, and more or less what she could do. Anything she chooses to. What she wanted with him, why she was here, he was rapidly starting to figure out. "Is this about Wyvern?"

"Yes." The pistol, now about one inch from his left eye, didn't waver. "You will leave her alone. You will not attempt to harm or coerce either her or her father. You will call your men off. Is this perfectly understood?"

There was only one answer he could give that he knew would not get him shot. "Yes. It's understood."

"Good. Doorway."

She turned away, but only an idiot would've thought her vulnerable at that moment. Thomas Calvert did not consider himself an idiot. A portal opened up before her, and she stepped through. It closed again, leaving him alone in his office.

But what about me?

When do I get what I want?

The answer was simple. He wouldn't.

Well, fuck.

<><>​

Dallon Household
Taylor

Vicky picked up the three dice and rolled them. "Aww, man," she complained, looking at the result. "The barbarian's almost back again. I'm gonna have to activate my knights again."

"Serves you right for blocking my roads," Amy told her, checking the other two dice and drawing her cards. "Ooh, lots of wheat."

I grinned as I drew my resources as well. This was a really fun game, and when it came my turn I figured I'd be able to trade for the commodities I needed.

"I'll trade you for some of that wood you just drew," Dad offered Vicky. "What would you like? Ore or wheat?"

"Wheat, definitely wheat." Vicky side-eyed her sister, who was conspicuously not offering to trade any of her wheat. "How much can you spare?"

There was a knock on the door, and Dad looked around. "Were you expecting someone?"

"Not really," Vicky said. "Unless Crystal and Eric have decided to come over."

Amy shook her head. "They wouldn't bother knocking."

Carol was at the door by now. I turned to look as she opened it. There was a surprised tone in her voice as she greeted the visitor, but she didn't power up and she didn't sound worried. Then the visitor stepped inside, and I saw him properly for the first time.

Hero had been a founding member of the original Protectorate, back when it was just the four of them. The Tinker of the group, he was still considered one of the foremost proponents of that powerset in the world. He'd reluctantly taken up leadership of the entire Protectorate when Legend had split from the team for reasons still unknown, but he'd acquitted himself well in the role.

While not as naturally charismatic as the iconic flying Blaster, he was still friendly and outgoing, and everyone liked him. His gold and blue power armour, sporting the PRT logo on the shoulder-plate, would've been recognisable anywhere.

I stood up without even realising what I was doing. Concluding his handshake with Carol, Hero moved farther into the house, to where we stood around the dining room table. "Hello, there," he greeted us. "I was told I'd find Taylor Hebert here?"

"That's me," I said, more or less unnecessarily. It wasn't like he was going to mistake either Amy or Vicky for me, after all. Then the reality of the situation caught up with me.

Hero was here to see me.

Hero was here to see me.

Hero was here to see me.

"Um," I concluded.

"Good, good." He held out his gauntleted hand. "It's an honour and a pleasure to meet you, young lady. You've done the nation a great service."

Somehow, he managed to make it sound not at all cheesy; I shook his hand with a decided sense of unrealism. "Um, thanks?"

He chuckled warmly. "I get it. This is a huge surprise, and you're still trying to figure out what's going on. That's basically my fault, sorry. I tried to keep this trip on the down-low, so only half of America knew where I was going. But I really did want to meet you, and find out how you did what you did."

I blinked. He wants to get tips off me? "I'm sorry, but I haven't really looked into how I do it. I just … do it, you know? It's ninety percent pure instinct, ten percent panicked flailing."

I hadn't meant to put that last bit in, but he smiled easily when I did. "Well, all I can say is that your instincts are very much on point. I'd make a recruitment play to get you to join the Protectorate—we would very much like to have you on board—but as I understand things, you're happy here in New Wave, correct?"

I nodded. "That's correct." Then my treacherous inner thoughts had to spoil things by blurting out what was on my mind all over again. "I have to ask though, what is it with Tinkers showing up and wanting to recruit me? You're the second one to do it."

This time, he laughed out loud. "That's a good one. I'm going to see if I can get Alexandria to crack a smile when I tell her. The other Tinker would be Armsmaster, correct? Has he been a problem for you?"

"Not since Winslow," I admitted. "Some Thinker or other told him I'd be involved in a fire there, and he took that to mean that I was going to set the fire, so he literally busted in through the wall all Kool-Aid Man style. But once he realised it was Shadow Stalker, he calmed right down."

"Ah, yes, Shadow Stalker." I got the impression he'd just raised an eyebrow behind his gold tinted visor. "She's the one you nailed with an exploding fireball at a range of three hundred seven yards, correct? That's some good shooting, right there."

I shrugged. "Like I said, ninety percent instinct."

"No matter how you achieve your results, they're good results." He tilted his head slightly. "I'm very interested in the mechanics of your powers. How you can fire such high intensity flames with little heat loss, or ensure that the fireballs explode at exactly the right range. Also, the cold blast you got Burnscar with, and the disintegration effect you used on Jack Slash and Bonesaw. Would you be willing to demonstrate these for me?"

"Um." I tried to think fast. "I don't think doing it inside the PRT building is a good idea. I get kinda large, and I think they want to keep their outside walls where they are."

Again, he laughed out loud; this time, he shook his head as well. "No, that's a definite pass. I strongly suspect that whatever they're using for a backplate would not survive your powers. My idea was that we'd go up into the open air and I'd throw out holographic targets for you to hit with your various power effects, while I analyse them from off to the side. But only if you're interested."

Carol folded her arms. "And meanwhile, you get Taylor more and more at ease with you, so that when you ask about fighting Endbringers, she's more likely to say yes … correct?"

"Well, it's not intended to be as underhanded as all that," he said, then turned back to me. "I was going to bring it up at some point, yes, but I wanted to analyse the potential impact of your powers first, so I knew whether or not it was a good idea to make the offer at all."

"Right, right." He made a few good points, though Carol did too. "If I turned out to be stupidly powerful but said no to fighting Endbringers, what then?"

He shrugged. "I can't force you, and I'm not going to try. After all, the last person who tried to make you do something against your will is currently drifting around Brockton Bay as subatomic particles. Not a great idea, all told. But if you did show up as being powerful enough to make a significant difference, and were willing to step up, we'd be willing to put you through an accelerated training program to improve your chances of surviving against an Endbringer."

I was pretty sure I could figure out what he meant by that. "Translation: You'd kick the crap out of me."

He chuckled warmly and held out his hand. "I knew you were a bright kid. So, what do you say?"

It took me a moment to make my mind up. First, I glanced at Dad, who looked worried but proud that I was being given this opportunity. Then at Vicky, who was nodding repeatedly. Amy didn't show a preference one way or the other. Carol merely raised an eyebrow, as if to say, make sure you know what you're getting into.

I reached out and shook Hero's hand. "Let's do this."



[A/N: The board game they're playing is Settlers of Catan, with the Cities and Knights expansion. So much fun.]

End of Part Twenty-One

 

[HereticZAKU]

Don't worry, Coil and E88, you'll both get a turn with the fiery death machine cooking you alive! At the same time, if I have anything to say about it.

 

[Prince Charon]

Don't worry, Coil and E88, you'll both get a turn with the fiery death machine cooking you alive! At the same time, if I have anything to say about it.

Click to shrink...

I think Coil might be choosing the 'run the fuck away; far, far away' option. The Nazis are probably going to be stupid about it, though, and going against Kaiser's orders, as well.

 

[SlickRCBD]

Wyvern
PRT Building ENE
Director Emily Piggot
The Next Morning

"... court in the morning."

Emily hit Pause on the remote, so as to allow everyone present—Protectorate and Wards alike—to fully appreciate the gravity of the scene before them.

The screen in the conference room displayed two separate views of the summit of Captain's Hill. The angles were slightly different, and one was a little clearer than the other, but what each of them showed was unmistakeable. A draconic figure, red and gold markings identical to those in every photo ever taken of her, loomed over the parking area on top of the hill in a way that should have been frankly impossible at that range.

Providing even more evidence as to the scale involved, a tiny bright-coloured human form hovered next to the gargantuan muzzle. Everyone present knew who it was: Lady Photon. She appeared so tiny next to the immense creature that she would be able to stand on its lower eyelid and peer directly into its pupil.

Emily pressed the Play button again. Both images started rolling. Lady Photon clearly said something to Wyvern, because the immense reptilian eyeball rolled toward her. There was a chuckle in reply, clearly audible over the speakers, even from halfway across the city. "Maybe."

This time, Emily hit Stop, and the screens blanked.

"As we all know," she said, her voice carrying clearly to everyone in the room, "that happened last night."

"Oh, we know," Assault agreed readily enough. "So does everyone in Brockton Bay. There's a whole thread on PHO devoted to appeasing our new draconic overlord. Overlady. Whatever."

Click to shrink...

This scene reminds me of this:
https://www.shurtugal.com/2016/11/1...-see-this-outside-your-window-what-do-you-do/

Am I the only one reminded of that meme?

 

[Megaolix]

-snip-

Click to shrink...

Did you HAVE to post this here four days before it has been a full month since last post?

Please respect the spirit of Rule 7.

 

[SlickRCBD]

Did you HAVE to post this here four days before it has been a full month since last post?

Please respect the spirit of Rule 7.

Click to shrink...

I was trying to track it down since the chapter was posted, but only found it last night. I was using the wrong search terms. I should have looked at the dates better.

 

[Ack]

Wyvern

Part Twenty-Two: Getting the Measure

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


PRT Building ENE
Brockton Bay

Over the course of its existence, the PRT had borne witness to—and been involved in—many pitched battles and titanic struggles, against foes from Nilbog all the way up to Behemoth. Much blood had been spilled in its service over the years, and many bodies laid to rest—when such bodies could be located, which was not always the case. It was a service uniquely formed to oversee perhaps the most dangerous armed and unarmed clashes that would ever be experienced by the human race.

In the current moment, the conflict raging within the walls of the PRT Department East-North-East was just as intense as any Endbringer battle, albeit far less lethal. Favours were being offered and traded at a breakneck pace, though the shift supervisors had put a flat fifty-dollar cap on any monetary recompense. Word of what was about to happen had blazed through the grapevine at speeds any modern news organisation would weep tears of blood to see, and everyone wanted to be there for it.

Online, the back-and-forth was reaching tinfoil-hat levels of speculation, and not showing any signs of slowing down. The PHO boards were running hot, and the mods were kept busy dousing incipient flamewars and handing out temp bans like party favours; they knew it would get worse before it got better, and it was going to be a wild ride in the meantime. Everyone but everyone had an opinion, and they were all doing their best to air their own personal theories before things went down.

However, not everyone involved was exactly thrilled with the situation.

<><>​

Director Emily Piggot

Setting her elbows firmly on her desk, Emily closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "Renick," she asked rhetorically, "how did it come to this? Why aren't we doing this out to sea, or in some deserted location? Why does it have to happen over my goddamn city?"

It wasn't that she hated Wyvern, or even disliked the girl any more than she did the dozens of other capes infesting her city. As a relatively fresh trigger with a potentially devastating power, Taylor Hebert had comported herself with admirable restraint … for the most part. She had chosen not to go into the Wards (and had strenuously rejected all attempts at recruitment) but had instead opted to join New Wave, which had undoubtedly helped her through the post-trigger trauma.

The main problem she had with Hebert was the sheer power available to the girl at any minute of the day, and the potential for pure unmitigated devastation that she posed, contingent on just one temper tantrum. As she'd told the Wards and Protectorate members, she'd been fine with Wyvern as a B-class or even an A-class cape, but this jump to S-class had been as unpleasant to find out about as it had been unexpected. And then to be told by Chief Director Costa-Brown that Hero was on the way to talk to Wyvern and test her powers out, giving her zero input into the matter … that was the final shitty icing on the whole crappy cake.

Her deputy cleared his throat sympathetically. "As I understand it, Hero talked the Chief Director into agreeing to testing her in such a public forum as a PR display. The only people in Brockton Bay right now who don't know about Wyvern are probably in a coma or living under a rock, but not many have actually seen her in action. This is a good chance for her to strut her stuff, and at the same time show the people who's protecting them."

Emily gritted her teeth. Give them nightmares, more like. The size she ended up at on top of Captain's Hill … Not even the Endbringers were that large. "Got it," she grumbled. "Is there any chance of him taking her with him when he leaves?"

Renick eyed her observantly, then shook his head. "I don't believe so, no. From what I understand of her father, it would take more leverage than we could bring to bear to make him leave the city, and he isn't about to sign off on her going anywhere without him. Not to mention, she's an official member of New Wave, and good luck separating her from that team without Carol Dallon descending upon us in a hailstorm of lawsuits. We're just lucky we didn't screw up the Shadow Stalker thing too badly."

"Don't remind me," muttered Emily. "That could've gone so much worse, between whoever gaslit Armsmaster into thinking Wyvern was about to go Behemoth two point oh on the school, and that little psychopath setting the damn school on fire."

"Of course, because we didn't drag Stalker in the very moment Wyvern pointed her out, that didn't exactly cover us with glory." Renick sounded resigned. "I don't think she would've joined the Wards anyway—she made no secret of her distaste for the power testing they definitely would've wanted to carry out—but maybe it would've left us on better terms with her overall."

Emily shook her head. "Blame the Youth Guard. The moment I started logging the paperwork necessary to pull Stalker off the main roster, preparatory for an in-depth investigation into her activities, they started hounding me with queries as to where these allegations had come from, and if they'd been sufficiently checked out. All in the name of 'fairness and transparency', of course. Heaven forbid a Ward actually be held responsible for their own actions."

"Little angels, the lot of them," he agreed, in a tone so bland she knew he had to be pulling her leg. "Sometimes, I wonder if anyone in the Youth Guard has ever tried raising a teenager."

"Or if they've even been in the same room as one," Emily agreed with a smirk.

Renick nodded. "Indeed." His sense of humour was very reserved, to the point that some people in the building didn't think he had one. She knew better.

An alarm on her computer dinged, and she looked around at the window. "Ah; it seems the dog-and-pony show is about to begin."

"Oh, good." Renick stood and turned toward the door, then paused. "There should be space for us on the roof, if you want to come up with me?"

Emily shook her head. "I'll be fine. Someone needs to hold down the fort." She knew damn well that every recording device known to mankind, and a few that hadn't existed until Armsmaster and Dragon had invented them, would be trained on the upcoming testing session. Observing it with the mark one human eyeball was about the least efficient way of measuring Wyvern's capabilities.

And yet, she also knew that every person in the building who'd been able to wangle someone else into covering their duties would be on the rooftop, including all the off-duty Wards on base. She had no idea what they thought they were going to see that wouldn't be recorded and replayed in ultra-HD colour with action replays, later. It was just another spectacle; that was all.

A humorous quote by a teacher occurred to her, and she smiled sourly as she paraphrased it. My job would be so much easier without all these capes.

<><>​

Taylor

I flapped my wings hard as I climbed for altitude. My time with New Wave had not made me any more thrilled about smartass flyers who just went without bothering with anything so trivial as mere physics, but it had definitely improved my endurance. Even better, I was fitter in human form too. It would've been the height of irritation to find out that all the exercise I was getting in one form didn't translate to the other.

Talking about smartass flyers, Vicky was cruising alongside me as I flew upward. Hero, already airborne using a very cool-looking jetpack, was waiting for us at about the five-hundred-foot mark. We'd decided to start low down while I was still small, then gradually climb as I got bigger. Hero had agreed that when I was at Crawler-munching size, a mile of altitude should ensure an adequate buffer zone while allowing the public to still see what was going on.

Not that I was totally sold on the whole 'showing off my powers for the public' thing. Sure, I'd agreed to let Hero record and analyse how my various attacks worked, but I hadn't actually made the mental connection with how we'd be doing this over Brockton Bay, in full view of everyone. It hadn't helped that Vicky had taken his side, pointing out that unless we informed the public beforehand, any accidents that happened because people were distracted would legally become my fault.

Sure, I'd be able to pay off insurance claims and lawsuits for the next century, thanks to the Nine having an obscene amount of kill order bounty money on their heads, but that wasn't the point. Also, I didn't want people getting hurt because of me. That wasn't who I was.

I still couldn't believe that PHO 'draconic overlady' thread, though. Dad had blinked a lot, as though entirely unsure of what to say, while both Vicky and Amy had been helpless with laughter. It wasn't as though I wanted the fame, or notoriety, or whatever. Why couldn't I just have powers, be a hero, help people, and go home at the end of the day? Was that too much to ask?

"You're muttering again," Vicky noted with a grin as we reached Hero. "Just let it go. Idiots will idiot. And besides, they can't be your high priests. That's my job."

I gave her the dirtiest look I could muster, then rolled my eyes. She smirked, fully aware that I couldn't do anything more drastic. For one thing, Hero was right there. And for another, about ten thousand people were probably watching us with binoculars. Pretending to bite her, or blowing smoke all over her, would not be a good look.

On second thought, I wasn't even sure if I could blow smoke at this size. It was something I'd have to test another time.

"Good morning to the both of you," Hero said, dusting his hands off. "You look even more impressive close up than in the pictures I've seen, Wyvern. Ready to show us what you can do?"

I nodded, adding an agreeable chirp. Hero's whole manner made me feel that I was the most important person he wanted to talk to right then. Most of it was him being diplomatic, I knew, but it still made me feel better about the whole thing. Like my choices mattered.

"That'll be 'yes, let's kick ass and take names'," Vicky confirmed. At his quizzical look, she shrugged modestly. "I've spent enough time with her that I can pick up most of what she means."

"I see." A grin quirked one corner of his mouth. "That could come in handy from time to time. Is this why you're here, instead of observing from a distance?"

"Partly, yes," she agreed, "and partly because we arranged ahead of time what she was going to do, so I'll be giving you a heads-up until she's large enough to talk on her own."

"And maybe even then," noted Hero. "Once she gets to full size, we don't want everyone down there hearing what she's about to do."

On hearing that, I nodded. Speaking in public was bad enough, but ad-libbing as a gigantic dragon would be a nightmare. The last thing I wanted was to see any of my verbal slips showing up as an online meme.

"Yup." Vicky smiled brightly. "So, we agreed to start with the basics. Explosive fireball and the plasma jet. Which one did you want to see first?"

His lips twitched. "I can't help recalling the report about what the plasma jet did to Armsmaster's halberd, so perhaps that one first?"

I let out an indignant squawk at that, and Vicky rolled her eyes. "Did the report make it clear that it was all his fault?" she asked on my behalf. "He came in all heavy-handed, accusing Wyvern of blowing up the school, then when she Changed due to stress, he threatened her with his halberd. So, she dealt with the threat."

"Hmm." He paused introspectively. "No, I don't believe it covered those specific details. It was more a vague 'mistakes were made', then went on to cover later events."

Vicky snorted. "I just bet it was. Anyway, plasma jet it is." She turned to me. "Ready to rock and roll?"

I nodded and gave her another agreeable chirp, then looked at Hero.

"All right then," he said, and tapped a button on his forearm armour. Several small drones zipped out and around us; I restrained the urge to snap at one of them. They'd probably cost a lot of money to make, and I was sure they'd taste terrible anyway. "And … ready when you are."

As he spoke the last words, a series of holographic rings popped into view, in a direct line over the relatively few buildings between us and the coast, then straight out to sea. I'd already been assured that the PRT would be probing the sky out to the horizon and beyond to ensure nobody was in the line of fire, so I took a deep breath and let the fire boil in my gullet for a second. Then I opened my mouth wide and sent the jet streaking down the centreline of the row of rings. I'd never fired it without a backstop before, so I was somewhat impressed by how far it went.

"Well, damn," muttered Hero, apparently looking at something on a screen. It seemed he was impressed too, I decided, and gave Vicky a smug look. She responded with a thumb's up.

"So, explosive fireball now?" she asked. "Or did you want another plasma jet?"

"Fireball, please," he agreed, and changed the holographic targets to three squares at different ranges. "I understand you can set them off at any given distance?"

I nodded, then turned toward the new target range. Carefully, I spat three fireballs; each travelled toward the given target, then exploded into a ball of flame when it got there.

"And that's Wyvern for you," Vicky said, performing a little victory dance in mid-air. "Did you know she can knock down missiles with them? Even missiles that dodge?"

"I hadn't known that," Hero replied absently, examining his readouts before looking up at me. "But it doesn't surprise me. Wyvern, the energy intensity you're getting from these attacks is astounding. I know you're being careful, but I'd like to reiterate that. You need to be really careful, or you could maim or kill someone by accident."

I gave him a watch-this chirp, and fired off another one, but this time I made it as weak as I could. It hit the closest target and went pop; the fireball was barely worthy of the name.

"Okay, fine, forget I said anything," he acknowledged. "Your power at this level is impressive, and your control is equally so. Would you like to size up a bit so we can measure your power increments?"

I took a deep breath, then pushed for extra size, to the point I'd been after I'd fought Inago. "Like this?" I asked, as quietly as I could manage.

"Exactly like that." He stared at me and shook his head slightly. "That size change definitely takes a little getting used to."

Vicky smirked. "Oh, trust me. You ain't seen nothing yet."

"I'm certainly looking forward to it." He gestured upward. "Maybe we should go another five hundred feet up, to keep Director Piggot happy?"

"Okay." I exerted myself and flew higher; Hero and Vicky easily kept pace with me.

This was kinda fun. I was looking forward to trying out the same attacks when I got really big.

<><>​

Armsmaster

Colin moved carefully through the crowd atop the roof of the PRT building. He had several devices recording in every wavelength he and Dragon could come up with, and a few they weren't sure of. Just for the occasion, he'd built magnifiers into his visor so he could observe the testing without needing to deal with binoculars; so far, he was reasonably impressed with Wyvern's capabilities.

Just ahead of him, the off-duty Wards—Clockblocker, Vista and Triumph—huddled together in a small group. The reason for this was quickly evident; Vista had opened a weird distortion in space so they could see more clearly. Shading his helmet faceplate with his hand, Clockblocker leaned toward Triumph. "Hey, isn't that how big she was when she told Armsmaster to fuck off?"

"Yes," Colin said from right behind him. "It is."

The way the boy jumped was comical. Colin thought it was a pity that he was wearing a full-faced helmet, because his expression would've been just as funny. "Wah—sorry—I, uh, didn't see you there, sir!"

"Evidently." Armsmaster lowered his voice slightly. "Let this be a lesson. Always make sure there's nobody listening if you're tempted to say something indiscreet like that."

"Uh huh. Totally." From the shaken tone of Clockblocker's voice, he'd take the advice to heart.

Colin moved away, not wanting to crowd the youngsters. Just as he focused the magnifiers on the hovering dragon once more, another Dragon made herself known in his earpiece. "Now, was that nice?" she asked, amusement evident in her tone.

"I was nice!" he protested. "I didn't punish him for it, and maybe he'll be more discreet in future."

"Mm-hmm. Now tell me you didn't do it that way because it was funnier."

She could always read him like a book, even at the other end of a radio signal. "I plead the fifth."

"So I figured—ooh. That was bright."

'That' was the plasma jet that Wyvern had just deployed, and Dragon wasn't wrong. Even from where he was, he could tell that it was significantly more powerful than the one she'd used to melt his halberd in her base form. The blue-white actinic spear of flame had at least ten times the range and briefly outshone the sun, even from over eight hundred feet away.

They fell silent as they watched her throw out more exploding fireballs—equally powerful, if he was any judge—then followed up with a rolling torrent of flame that would've covered a football field before it petered out.

"Okay," Dragon ventured as everyone around him gasped in surprise. "I didn't know about that bit."

"It was in the witness statements," Colin admitted. "Though I didn't know it was so … widespread."

"What's happening now? Is she going to upsize again? They don't seem to be gaining altitude."

"I'm not sure," he said, then blinked as she changed again, but not in size. "Okay, this is interesting."

"You have a knack for understatement." Her tone was dry.

Wyvern had changed colour, her scales altering from red and gold to black and ice-blue. Her form lengthened as well, becoming skinnier and somehow more hungry-looking. Murmurs rolled through the crowd as she hovered there, then the targets changed again to a dozen or more tiny holographic balls darting around each other in front of her. Wyvern seemed to cough, and only his enhanced visor allowed him to catch the tiny shards of … ice? Whatever they were, they darted through the air, changing direction to home in on the targets, which 'popped' when hit.

"Colin, that's a totally different type of dragon. Where's she getting all these changes from? And did she steer those ice shards onto target?"

"It certainly looks like—whoa." He gasped as Wyvern inhaled, and a sudden chill settled over the building. His helmet readout indicated that the ambient air temperature had just dropped by a good ten degrees Fahrenheit in a second or so. A light dusting of snow became visible all around, drifting down over the buildings, and he could see people's breath steaming in the air. His visor tried to fog over, but internal heating systems prevented that.

"What just happened?" Dragon's voice was audibly concerned. "Half my gauges just jumped. There was a massive heat exchange, just then." She paused. "Is that … is that temperature reading correct?"

"Certainly feels like it." He looked around; the snow was already sublimating again. "That was … crazy."

"I really want to see how she's doing this," she said. "There should be considerable heat readings from something like that, but there's nothing."

"So far," he agreed, without taking his eyes off Wyvern. Opening her jaws, she exhaled a burst of … something. It vaguely resembled fire, except that it was dark blue; as it shot away toward the ocean, it caused another chill in the air. For this one, there was an actual physical target in the zone, a man-sized drone drifting around on rotors. The blue bolt hit and the entire thing froze solid in an instant, plummeting toward the ocean.

"And that must be how Burnscar died," Dragon decided.

"That's my guess, too." It was good to have confirmation of the witness statements, as rambling and incoherent as some of them were, but also very sobering. Subtracting that much heat from the air over such a wide area … that took a lot of power. As Dragon had asked, where had it even gone to?

It seemed Wyvern was going to upsize again, as she began to climb for more altitude, with Hero and Glory Girl accompanying her. Colin took the opportunity to look around and gauge the mood of the crowd. Everyone seemed interested and engaged, talking about what had just happened.

"I'm trying to calculate the effect that cold attack would have on Behemoth or Leviathan," Dragon commented. "What do you think?"

He rubbed his beard with thumb and forefinger as he thought about it. "Leviathan might be able to shake it off. I mean, his control over water is absolute. But Behemoth …" His voice trailed off as he considered the notion.

"Yes, exactly." Dragon seemed to be on the same page. "Wyvern takes energy and puts it somewhere else. Anything that can reduce the amount of energy coming off Behemoth would have to be a good thing."

"Also, she's shown a lot of ability to focus her powers so bystanders aren't harmed," he noted. The plasma jet that had melted his halberd, once upon a time, should have given him third degree burns, but had only inflicted a light sunburn and scorched his beard a little. "She could unleash that cold attack in the middle of a crowded battle, and very likely hit only her target, even if it was someone like the Simurgh." A mental image of the third Endbringer looking grumpy in a parka briefly amused him, but then he had to focus on Wyvern as she began using her powers again.

"Wait, when did she go back to red and gold?" asked Dragon. "That was a very smooth change. I only just noticed it."

"The same time as she finished upsizing, when she did that mid-air pirouette," Colin informed her. "I was watching for it."

"Oh. Right. Yes, now I see. She just keeps on getting bigger, doesn't she?"

"Blame Brockton Bay," he said dryly. It was true; even though his rangefinder put her at two thousand feet of altitude, it was still easy to see what she was doing. Ironically, with no other reference points for her size, it almost seemed as though Glory Girl and Hero had shrunk in comparison to her. And the plasma jet was just as hot and bright as before despite the extra distance, effortlessly ticking the ambient temperature up again by several degrees. Perhaps twice the length of a commercial charter jet, she effortlessly kept her place in the sky with those massive wings.

"That girl is going to make a lot of people very nervous," Dragon observed. "I mean, she could obliterate a small town from the map in a very short time from half a mile up, if she put her mind to it."

"She's already making them nervous, if I'm any judge." He didn't elaborate; Director Piggot was very carefully pretending that meeting hadn't happened, so it wasn't his job to tell anyone about it.

They fell silent again as Wyvern scaled up yet more. By this time, the two other heroes were tiny motes flitting around her head, literally insects by scale to her. From a mile away, they were almost impossible to see without magnification, while it was perfectly possible to see every detail of her markings without eyestrain. She wasn't talking, though he knew she could. Instead, she was nodding her head ponderously in response to a suggestion or a question.

"I wonder what they're talking about," mused Dragon. "It's not like they haven't been doing it by the numbers so far."

"Something different, I guess. I'm just glad that they are talking, and she's intelligent enough at that size to still be her."

"Why, Colin." She sounded amused. "You sound actually protective toward her."

He snorted. "She's impetuous and snarky and a little too willing to lash out, but yes. Her heart's in the right place."

This time, she chuckled. "In other words, a typical teenager."

"If you say so." But he smiled despite himself. Dragon was providing what he'd been missing in the case of Taylor Hebert: some much-needed perspective. He'd been coming at her with the attitude that she was the hero they needed, while she wanted less to be a hero and more to be a teen. It was no wonder that he'd shoved both feet in his mouth every time he'd tried to press the recruitment.

In the next moment, Wyvern tilted her head back and opened her jaws wide. From that capacious maw—he estimated there was at least a hundred-foot gap between her top and bottom lips—she reiterated the wide-area flame burst, but not out to sea. Upward.

There was a moment of stunned silence across the rooftop as it seemed half the sky was on fire. Colin blinked at the sheer area she was able to cover with one breath. "You are seeing this, right?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, I'm definitely seeing this," she confirmed. "If my calculations are correct, that would've depopulated an entire town at once, or at least set the whole thing on fire. And I'm not even considering the splash factor."

"I've heard it said that capes are walking WMDs," he said grimly. "Those people should be here to see this, just to get a sense of proportion."

"I'm actually concerned that someone might decide to attack her pre-emptively," Dragon said slowly. "Strike first, in case she turns out to be hostile."

"Well …" Colin waited as three enormous fireballs soared skyward, rocketing upward at a speed few capes could match. When they went off—his rangefinder placed them at an average distance of ten miles away vertically—the airbursts covered a respectable area of sky, and the detonations rattled his armour. "Okay, yes, she'd be able to lay waste to a major city from airliner altitude. If she could get up that high. Which I wouldn't bet against."

"Or she could snipe incoming missiles or strategic bombers, from ground level," Dragon suggested. "Just by the way, I'd ramp up your visor polarisation if I were you. I'm pretty sure she's going to be showing off the plasma jet next, and we already know that's bright."

"Good idea." He sent the command to his armour, and saw his vision darken. Wyvern was still visible, but there were no clouds anywhere in the sky. He wasn't altogether surprised.

When she unleashed the plasma jet, it was a solid bar of violet light that lanced upward and yet farther upward. Stunned, Colin watched as it seemed almost to reach the edge of the atmosphere. A moment later, the city shook under a rolling kkkkkkkkkkkkkk-k-k-krakBOOM, almost like a lightning strike. His armour readouts popped up in his HUD, a few gauges jumping. "Are you seeing this?"

"I am." Dragon sounded as taken aback as he felt. "It looks like the ionisation was so strong it was able to temporarily affect electronics. Kind of a poor man's EMP."

"Who needs the EMP? With that beam, she'd be able to evaporate anything in her way. Including large hills."

"You think you're joking—wait, something just happened. She changed again."

He focused on the distant hovering dragon. "Are you sure? She's not any bigger."

"No, it was very subtle this time. The reds are more purplish now."

Now that she mentioned it, he could see what she was talking about. "Huh. You're right."

More targets—these ones with brightly blinking lights, probably to make them more visible to the spectators below—spread out in front of Wyvern. There seemed to be quite a few of them.

"Is she going to do what I think she's going to do?" Dragon's tone indicated that her interest was peaking.

"Whatever she did to Jack Slash and Bonesaw? Definitely." Colin took a second to check the feeds of his recording devices. They were all in the green, which was good. The PRT would want this data.

The purple 'flame' that washed out from Wyvern's jaws was somewhere between the plasma jet and the wide-area burst in coverage. It covered the hovering target drones; when it receded, they were … gone. Not damaged, not destroyed and falling over the city, just gone. As if they'd never been.

"Well, that was a thing." Dragon sounded pensive. "Rule number one: don't get in front of Wyvern if she's annoyed at you."

"That was already my rule number one where she's concerned," he retorted. "But have you seen how agile she is in the air? It's virtually impossible not to be in her line of fire if she wants you there."

"Also a very good point. Did you notice that there was no particular heat or cold signature from the disintegration attack? Which is truly impressive, if you recall the classic Einstein formula."

Colin blinked. "Damn, you're right. Emm cee squared. If she simply negated that matter … where did the energy go?"

"I'm not sure either, but I'm glad she's got the balance right. If her power misplaced a decimal point and removed that much heat again from the environment around you, Brockton Bay would be frozen solid right now."

"Very true. It would be kind of like the blue dragon instant ice age thing all over again. Not something I want to see, at that scale."

Amused, she snorted. "You don't fool me, Colin. You'd love to see it."

"Okay, granted." He rolled his eyes. "But from a safe distance. Maybe Boston."

"Haha, true. Well, at least we've got confirmation on what happened to Jack and Bonesaw. And Crawler too, I suppose."

Wings pulled in close to her body, Wyvern turned and dived. Colin watched, having no idea what to say as the immense red-gold creature loomed larger and larger, flanked by the gold and blue form of Hero on one side, and the white and gold of Glory Girl on the other. At this size, Wyvern was majestic, and he could suddenly see how the 'high priest' jokes had started on PHO.

If they were jokes.

When she was almost down to skyscraper level, Wyvern's wings unfurled in a thunderclap that set off car alarms and made Colin grateful for the hearing protection he had recently installed in his helmet. Some may have accused him of being set in his ways, but he was perfectly capable of learning. When it came to dealing with capes like Wyvern, he learned fast.

Immense pinions spread wide, Wyvern raced across the city, her teeth bared in what was unmistakeably a grin of enjoyment. Colin took a moment to determine that yes, the estimates of her wingspan had been accurate just before she passed overhead, briefly shading them from the sun. "God damn," he muttered. "If I were the local criminal element, I'd be moving to Florida."

"I don't know," Dragon mused. "As I understand things, you have some very stubborn gangs there."

"I would imagine less so, since she tangled with Inago," he reminded her. "And the Nine had no luck at all when they came to town."

"Very true—" She stopped talking when Wyvern suddenly pulled up into a sharp Immelmann manoeuvre; he'd known she was agile, but not that agile. Slowing to a hover at the top of the half-loop, she held position over the city.

"Thank you, Brockton Bay," she said, her booming tones echoing over the city. Colin had no doubt they could hear her from the Trainyards all the way to Downtown. "You've been a great audience. I'll see you around."

Once more flanked by Hero and Glory Girl, she banked over onto one wing, then descended again. However, this time she was reducing in size as she went, so that by the time she passed between the buildings and out of sight, she was small enough to fit.

There was a pause, then Director Piggot's acerbic voice crackled out of the speakers surrounding the rooftop space. "Ladies and gentlemen of the PRT, Protectorate and Wards, the demonstration is over. You can get back to work now."

This served to break the spell; laughing and chattering, the PRT employees and capes began to file back toward the rooftop entrance. Colin lingered for a moment, looking out over the city where all was quiet, at least for the moment.

"You okay there?" Dragon's voice was quiet.

"Yes." He shook himself and took a deep breath. "I knew it would be impressive. I didn't know how impressive. Or terrifying. One of the two."

"Well, whatever else happens today, we've definitely got enough recording data to keep us busy for hours, if not days." She sounded like she couldn't wait to get started with the analysis, to see if any of it could used to inspire new Tinkertech. It was one of the many things he appreciated about her; she understood what really mattered in life.

"Yes." He smiled. "I really think we just saw the balance of power tip toward the good guys." It would've been nice if he'd been the one to mentor Taylor Hebert into finding her true levels of power, but life wasn't fair sometimes.

"That's true. But we've still got our part to play. Everyone needs backup, sooner or later."

And once more, Dragon knew the exact right thing to say. Even as envy tried to dig its claws into him, he was able to remind himself that Wyvern was no Dauntless. There was no shame in being outmatched by someone who was easily Triumvirate-tier. And as Dragon had said, he still had his own part to play. Just as he couldn't do what Wyvern could, neither could she match him in his chosen field of expertise.

Dusting off his armour gauntlets, he headed for the roof exit. "Let's get to it. This data isn't about to analyse itself."

<><>​

Taylor

Flaring my wings, I landed on the lawn outside the Dallon household. Vicky landed a second or so later and went ahead to open the door for me. "Holy shit!" she enthused. "Did you see their faces? You wowed them, girlfriend! Wyvern is out there!"

I chirped a noncommittal agreement, then furled my wings and made my way in through the door, with Hero following behind. Vicky hadn't been the one showing off for the public; I had. What if I'd scared them more than I'd impressed them? I didn't want to drag down New Wave's good name.

Amy and Mrs Dallon met me, the former holding the fluffy gown that had more or less been designated as mine. The clothing I'd been wearing before I went out was lying on the sofa, neatly folded. I suspected either Mrs Dallon or Amy had gotten to it, because Vicky couldn't fold a handkerchief to save her life.

"Okay, everyone, changing time," Amy announced. "Hero, avert your eyes, please. Taylor needs her privacy."

I nodded and gave her a chirp of thanks, then concentrated. This time, the change came relatively easily; I was still riding the adrenaline from putting on a show in front of the entire city. Accepting the gown from Amy, I wrapped it around myself. "I'm good," I said, fastening the belt. "Thanks, everyone."

"You're welcome, Taylor." Hero's smile became a boyish grin as he turned back toward me. "I'm just going to say, that was damned impressive. You exceeded my expectations by a considerable amount, and I came into this with high expectations."

A warm feeling spread through my chest. "I … thanks. But was I too scary? I mean, all those teeth and claws and wings, and the fire breath and stuff? Are people going to accept me for who I want to be, or are they going to be calling me the monster of New Wave?"

"Hey." Vicky stepped forward and put her arms around me. I leaned into the embrace; it was what I needed, right now. "That's not what's gonna happen. You're the best thing that ever happened to this team, Taylor. The wyvern is amazeballs, and everyone out there has just learned that they can't just push you down. Because if they try, you'll just get bigger and more powerful. Escalation city, baby!"

I nodded. "I just don't want to go over the top with someone and hurt them too badly, you know? Purse snatchers don't deserve a month in the ICU with third degree burns, that sort of thing."

"And that's a perfectly applicable concern," Mrs Dallon confirmed. "Yes, your wyvern form is extremely powerful, but you've already shown yourself capable of restraint when necessary. I don't want you to ever forget, Taylor, that even as you're here for us, we're here for you as well." She gave Vicky a mildly exasperated glance. "And no, the answer is not always to escalate."

Vicky grinned impudently. "It is most of the time, though. Tell me I'm wrong."

Hero cleared his throat before the argument could get out of hand. "Be that as it may, I'd like to talk about some of my preliminary findings. I think you'll find these interesting."

"Absolutely," I agreed, then gestured at my folded clothing. "I'll just change first, though. Fluffy pink bathrobes are not my first choice for serious superhero discussions."

He grinned and nodded. "Mine neither, though you'd be surprised with some of the heroes I've known."

"Not even going to ask." Grabbing my clothes, I escaped to Vicky's room upstairs, and got dressed as quickly as I was able; the bathrobe I left draped over Vicky's bed.

As I came back downstairs, I heard laughter from the living room. Vicky and Amy were on one sofa while Hero and Mrs Dallon had taken the other. Hero was apparently describing an amusing incident, but as I hadn't heard the beginning I lacked the context for why it was so funny.

"... and I'm pretty sure he still can't stand the sight of fish," he concluded. "Ah, Taylor. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually." I saw that Vicky had scooted over to make room, so I sat down beside her. "At least now everyone knows the gist of what I can do, so they won't be picking fights if they can't take a hit."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Never underestimate the overconfidence of a cape who doesn't know he's out of his league. Trust me, I've patched up way too many idiots who bit off more they can chew. 'Nobody told me they were that strong' is their go-to for that."

"Gee, thanks." I wrinkled my nose at her. She grinned back at me.

"Indeed," said Hero dryly. "So, I had some notes on your powers. Did you know you generate a magnetic sleeve around your plasma jet when you fire it? Also, your explosive fireballs come in self-sustaining magnetic bottles that release when they hit the correct range. But it's more than just magnetism; there's some kind of shielding effect that protects non-targets from the worst of the heat."

"No, actually," I said carefully. "I did not, in fact, know that." It was a sobering realisation, that there was far more to my powers than 'I just do it'.

Amy frowned. "Okay, I get that. But where does the fire, or the plasma, come from? Or all that extra mass? Every time she sizes up, her entire anatomy rebuilds itself for the most efficient configuration at that size."

"It's a powers thing," Vicky explained unhelpfully. "The professor running this class I'm taking says that the latest theory is that capes who produce something out of nothing are tapping into another dimension, where there's plenty of energy, or lots of basic matter, that their powers convert for what they need."

"What about the cold blast attack?" asked Mrs Dallon. "High school was awhile ago for me, but I'm reasonably sure that cold isn't an energy form. It's a lack of energy."

Hero raised a finger and nodded. "That one had me puzzled as well," he agreed. "But I think I have it figured out." He looked at me. "When you used the cold-based attack, my instruments showed that you were tapping into another dimension, alright. One that never really had a Big Bang. Ambient temperature just above absolute zero. So when given an appropriate interface, it just dragged the energy away."

"Well, dang." I shrugged uneasily. "So what about the disintegration effect? Is that from another dimension, too?"

"Not in the way you'd think," he said seriously. "From what I can tell, you 'borrow' the energy to jump-start the matter-annihilation process from one of those spare dimensions. Once you've got it started, you funnel the energy back into the same dimension, paying it back with interest. But the disintegration effect is your power, not something applied from outside."

I nodded to show I'd understood. "Thanks. I hope I never have to use it again."

Vicky grabbed me in a side-hug. "Still, better to have it and not need it."

I couldn't really argue with that.

<><>​

ABB Headquarters
Geonchugga

Ha-joon switched off the TV and sat facing the dark rectangle, thinking. He'd seen Wyvern once, when the New Wave dragon had killed Oni Lee and bitten off Inago's arm before capturing him. At that moment in time, trying to go up against her when he had Roadhog opposing him as well had seemed the height of idiocy. Better to retreat and regroup.

His plan had been to hit the PRT building with a big enough mech that nobody was able to effectively fight back, and extract Inago that way. However, given what he'd just seen ...

Standing up, he went over to the table where he'd drawn up his plans. The assault mech had seemed indomitable, unbeatable, standing as tall as the PRT building itself. Its firepower had been unmatched ... until Wyvern had unleashed a plasma jet fifteen feet across and over twenty miles long. As a part of a demonstration. And that hadn't even covered her disintegration burst, or the freezing breath.

Screw that, he decided. I'm not paid enough for this shit.

<><>​

The Lair of Uber and Leet

After the TV flicked off, the two men sat in increasingly introspective silence, until the weedier one spoke.

"Dude?"

"Yeah?" answered his well-built buddy.

"You know how I wanted to try to pull her into a show and you told me not to?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."



End of Part Twenty-Two

 

[HereticZAKU]

Glad (most of) the entirety of Brockton Bay got the memo: DO NOT PISS OFF THE GIRL WHO CAN TURN INTO A FLYING NUKE.

 

[SlickRCBD]

I'm surprised Emily Piggot doesn't suggest Taylor give another demonstration of her full-sized form's capabilities to Nilbog in Ellisburg. Maybe the disintegration beam to the Machine Army at Eagletown.
Of course, I wonder if her dad will let her challenge the Endbringers.
It could be amusing it The Simurgh takes a look at Wyvern and decides to head back to orbit, since I think Canberra is next on the list.

 

[Ack]

I'm surprised Emily Piggot doesn't suggest Taylor give another demonstration of her full-sized form's capabilities to Nilbog in Ellisburg. Maybe the disintegration bream to the Machine Army at Eagletown.
Of course, I wonder if her dad will let her challenge the Endbringers.
It could be amusing it The Simurgh takes a look at Wyvern and decides to head back to orbit, since I think Canberra is next on the list.

Click to shrink...

Well, so far that's about three or four suggestions for Wyvern to have a go at Ellisburg, and two for Eagleton.

Pretty sure I know what she's doing next chapter.

 

[Ack]

Wyvern

Part Twenty-Three: The Proposition

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

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♦ Topic: All Hail
In: Boards ► World ► United States ► Brockton Bay ► Capes ► Wyvern ► Welcoming Our New Draconic Overlord
MadTinfoilHatter312 (Original Poster) (Temp Banned)
Posted On Jan 21st 2011:

I'll be honest.
Up until yesterday, I thought Wyvern was just another flashy cape. Sure, she's a dragon, but that's actually less quirky than some powers out there. Flight, durability, Blaster ability ... typical cape, right? Typical cape.
When she bulked out to fight Inago, I kind of paid attention, because that was a step up. But even then, I figured it was something she had to really work to achieve. Capes do this sort of thing, yeah?
And then ... the Nine came to town and poked the bear. I mean, the dragon.
Um.
I have no words for what must've happened next. If Jack Slash didn't have brown pants by the time she finished demolishing the team around him and NOMMING DOWN ON FUCKING CRAWLER, then he was a better man than I'll ever be (spoilers: I don't believe it for a second).
I woke up last night, wondering why the thunder sounded like words, and looked out my window. When I saw her perching on Captain's Hill like every bad fantasy movie ever, I honestly thought I was having a nightmare.
Then, when I realized I was awake and she was still there, that's when I came to my Epiphany.
Wyvern isn't a cape.
She's more than that.
Much more.
She is a dark and benevolent goddess in draconic form, and she deserves our devotion. She is here to Protect us from the Forces of Evil and we must acknowledge this, so she does not tire of our presence.
All hail our new draconic overlord.
All hail Wyvern.
I have spoken.

(Showing page 74 of 128)

►Laotsunn (Kyushu Survivor)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Listen, all I'm saying is, I got off Kyushu just before Leviathan sank the whole damn island. I've SEEN an Endbringer. And now I've got something living in the same damn city as me that's ten times bigger and scarier than the biggest Endbringer out there.
Why does the universe hate me?

►Gerk_McThudge
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Here's a scary thought. What if this isn't her final size?
inb4 she goes full-on Ancalagon the Black.

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Having watched the power demo (and suffered through endless geek-outs of power pundits online) I've just got one question:
Is it too late to throw my name into the hat to be considered for the role of High Priest? I'm told I've got a talent for groveling.

►AverageAlexandros (Cape Husband)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Just gonna say, Hero's got some serious mojo for asking Wyvern to stand still for power testing ... and doing it in such a way that she agreed. (I've heard rumors she was firmly against letting the PRT poke and prod her, just saying).

►WavyLight
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
I'm personally worried the cape gangs might try to bring in a Master from outside to bend her to their will. If she goes villain, the whole city will potentially end up as a smoking crater.

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
I have it on good authority that the Nine already included Cherish, an emotion controlling Master. Pretty sure she would've been working on Wyvern as hard as she could, and Wyvern still ganked the whole team.
"Do not try to Master Wyverns, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup".

►Undying345
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Yeah, but what about Endbringers? I mean, the real deal. They're a lot tougher than they look, and Behemoth (just for instance) wouldn't even be worried about that flame. He throws enough of it around as it is.

►Tangle
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
I guess the big question is: can Behemoth stand up to her disintegration effect? Is that a type of energy he can affect?
Even if it is, can he stand up to the cold blast thing? Last I checked, cold is the absence of energy.
I guess we'll have to wait and see.

►Splinter684
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
That's ... actually a really good question.
If Wyvern is subtracting energy, can Behemoth add enough to overcome it, or can she freeze him solid?
Given that she briefly made it snow over most of the city just for funsies ...

►Dark_Lord_Follower_9999 (Banned)
Replied On Jan 22nd 2011:
Cease your heresy at once.
Our Dark Lord Behemoth controls all the energy. His wrath knows no bounds, and he will destroy the pretender Wyvern with the greatest of ease. She will fall before him, as will all unbelievers.
His Power shall reign triumphant.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 72, 73, 74, 75, 76 ... 126, 127, 128

■

<><>​

Taylor

Vicky pushed back from the computer to give me room to read the messages properly. "It went downhill after this bit," she explained. "Some Fallen assholes started trying to flood the boards, but once they got into a full-on screaming match with MadTinfoilHatter, complete with all-caps and elaborate threats, the mods clamped down and started issuing threadbans."

"Ugh." I grimaced, not at all happy about the whole thing. Especially the 'draconic overlord' bit. Even though Vicky thought it was hilarious. As for the people trying to apply for the job of high priest … nope. Just nope. "Should I put a post up, explaining that they're going way too far and how I'm just another cape?"

"Albeit a terrifyingly powerful one?" Vicky raised her eyebrows, then smirked at the dirty look I sent her way. "Sorry, wouldn't work. By now, everyone still posting has got the bit in their teeth and they're charging ahead on their own personal hobby-horse; everyone else's opinion be damned. If you posted up right now, the all-hail crew would see it as a visitation from their deity but interpret what you're saying to whatever they want it to mean. Meanwhile, the trolls would argue with you and make out you're an impostor, posting under Wyvern's name. We've had several attempts at that so far already. The normal fans would mob you, asking for any and all information. And the haters would try to dogpile you out of existence." She shook her head. "Right now, the whole thread is a hot mess I wouldn't inflict on my worst enemy. If I had a worst enemy."

"Great." I rolled my eyes. "So much for connecting to the public and reassuring them that they're in no danger from me, and there's no need to worship me."

Amy snorted. "There's always a divide between capes and non-capes. It gets pretty tenuous when you're down in the C and D lists, but A and B list capes get some respect and S-rank capes get lots of it. The trouble with the majority of capes is this respect is due specifically to their powers. And if the public is paying attention to your powers? They've just learned how your cute little human-sized Changer form can become a gigantic flying predator capable of obliterating the whole damn city from thirty thousand feet, and eating a crosstown bus as a light snack." Her tone became even more sour. "And Vicky wonders why I never tell anyone about everything I'm able to do."

"So I can't win." I shook my head. "If I'd refused the demonstration, word would've gotten out pretty quickly anyway because everyone saw me on Captain's Hill, only there'd be a lot more speculation. I did a controlled demonstration with Hero's assistance, making sure nobody got hurt, and even said a few words to the public afterward, and this happens. What should I do? Can this even be fixed? What if we went down to the Boardwalk and just had a general meet-and-greet with the public?"

Vicky appeared to consider it, then shook her head. "No. It might go well at first, but there are some in this city who have a vested interest in you not being accepted as a popular hero."

I stared at her, more shocked than I wanted to admit. "What?"

"The Winslow thing," Amy filled in. "Whoever faked out Armsmaster with that stupid tip-off knew exactly what they were doing. And they've got the pull to make your idiot principal try to force you back to Winslow."

"What she said," Vicky agreed. "If we went down there, these people would get someone on site just as quickly as they could, with orders to make you look as bad as possible. Provoke you into attacking them, or failing that, into doing something they can interpret as an attack. And you can be damn sure the news crews will run with any stories like that. 'Wyvern: is the huge scary dragon out of control?' will get the public's attention a hell of a lot faster than 'Wyvern: our big cuddly dragon isn't dangerous at all'. See what I mean?"

"Wait, let's rewind for a second." I made the time-out gesture. "So, if the Armsmaster thing was a deliberate attempt to get me in trouble, has anyone actually investigated it?"

"Yeah. Mom was following it pretty closely." Vicky shrugged. "Blackwell says she got a call from someone claiming to be a PRT officer, and who knew all the right code words. But the name they gave didn't belong to anyone in the building. So, it's either an outsider who knows the procedure or an insider who knew there'd be blowback."

I shook my head again. "And you wonder why I'm totally reluctant to go anywhere near the PRT for any reason. I don't know which possibility is worse: that people can just impersonate them with ease, or there might be one or more of them who hates me so badly they don't want me to be a hero at all."

"To be fair, the PRT command structure almost certainly isn't behind this," Vicky said, apparently trying for a reassuring tone. "It's worrying that someone's doing this and they haven't been caught yet, but if they keep trying we'll catch up with them sooner or later."

"Yeah, but will it be before or after they convince the actual PRT to draft me, Birdcage me, or just snipe me from two city blocks away?" I snarked, trying to tell myself that I was worried for no reason. The PRT were the good guys, and had checks and balances to prevent this sort of thing … didn't they?

Before Vicky or Amy could comment, there was a knock on the bedroom door. "Taylor, are you in there?" called Mrs Dallon.

"Yeah, I'm here," I said, going over and opening the door. "What's up? Has Dad called?"

"No." She shook her head. "But Director Piggot has."

"What?" All of a sudden, my unformed fears seemed to gain quite a bit more substance. "Why?"

"She didn't share that with me." Mrs Dallon gestured toward the stairs. "The phone's downstairs in my office. We'll take the call in there—just the two of us," she added sharply as Vicky came over to us, "—and find out what she wants."

"What?" Vicky looked as betrayed as she sounded. "Taylor's our teammate. We've got a right to know what the Director wants."

Her mother was evidently used to dealing with her in these situations; her voice had no give in it at all. "And we'll fill you in, just as soon as we're done with the phone call. Come along, Taylor."

I followed Mrs Dallon along the corridor and down the stairs. We entered her office and I took my customary chair in front of her desk. With the door closed, it was quiet and peaceful in there, with the faint odour of wood polish overlaying the smell of old books.

Mrs Dallon sat down in her office chair and tapped the phone on the desk, activating the speaker. "Director Piggot, I'm back. Wyvern is with me. We're otherwise alone." She gestured at me to speak.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "Wyvern, here." Is she calling me to say I'm under arrest and not to move until PRT troopers get here?

"Hello, Wyvern." I'd never met Director Piggot before, nor even heard her voice, but she sounded like someone whom it was highly ill-advised to fuck with. "I understand you are a member of New Wave and thus not under my command, but I would like to have a face-to-face meeting with you at your earliest convenience."

I blinked, my brain popping up three points for me to consider.

First, it had been explained to me that while New Wave was nominally an independent team, they were affiliated with the PRT. This afforded them certain advantages in dealing with the PRT, but came with obligations as well. Such as not hanging up on the Director when she called asking for an interview.

Second, everything I'd ever heard or read about the Director indicated that she didn't beat around the bush. The phrasing she'd just used was probably the politest she was ever going to get.

Third, the specific phrase 'at your earliest convenience' was essentially military-speak (I'd read somewhere) for 'right now had better be convenient for you'.

Which meant (in reverse order) that: she really wanted to talk to me; she was actually trying to be nice about it; and it would probably be a bad idea for the team if I just blew her off.

Now I was totally curious about what was going on.

"I, uh …" I glanced at Mrs Dallon. She gestured for me to go on. "I can be over shortly. With Glory Girl, of course." There was no way I was going there on my own. For that matter, if I knew her, there was no way she'd let me go on my own.

"And me." Mrs Dallon's voice could've cracked concrete. "As a new member of the New Wave, Wyvern does not go anywhere in her Changer form without being accompanied by an adult member of the team. Today, that duty falls to me. Is this acceptable?" The subtext was remarkably easy to read: if it isn't, tough.

"Perfectly." It seemed the Director was a woman of few words. "I will await your arrival." She hung up, ending the call as abruptly as she'd begun our brief conversation.

"Okay, then," I said, as soon as I was sure that the call was over. "Did she sound mad to you? Because she didn't to me."

"No, she didn't." Mrs Dallon rubbed her lips with her thumb. "She wants something. It's the only explanation I can think of. There's something she specifically wants you to do, and she figures getting you to come to her gives her request a higher probability of success. Trappings of power, and so forth."

"So, I should go?" I was pretty sure the answer was yes, but Mrs Dallon was a lot smarter about this sort of thing than I was.

"We should go," she corrected me. I didn't care; it was what I'd meant anyway. "Victoria will be carrying me. Do you still have any of those adjustable costumes Parian made for you?"

I frowned; to my recollection, we still had a couple left. "Uh, yeah, but if I have to get any bigger than normal, it'll be shreds on the wind."

"We'll take the chance," she decided. "Whatever this meeting is about, I absolutely want you able to express yourself clearly and concisely. The alphabet sheet is a passable stopgap, but nothing beats being able to talk."

I was also reasonably sure the ceilings in the PRT building weren't high enough to accommodate me in my 'talking' size, so I nodded in agreement. "So … we fly there, then I change back and mask up once we're on site. Got it."

"Exactly. Also, I want you showing up in New Wave colours, to underline that you're part of our team, not theirs. Emily Piggot has the right to make reasonable requests of us, but she can't order and she certainly can't demand."

"Totally." I liked the idea of showing up costumed for solidarity. "Can I fill Vicky in now?"

She smiled. "Yes. Then you'd better go get changed."

Vicky sprang away from the door when I opened it, then blatantly pretended nothing of the sort had happened. "Well? What did the Director want?"

"To have a face-to-face with me, apparently. Your mom says you'll be carrying her, if this is okay with you?"

"Try to keep me away," she declared, then gave me a searching look. "You're okay with me coming along, right?"

I pulled her head close to mine, so I could rest my forehead on hers. "We're New Wave. We got this."

She pulled me into a hug. "Damn right we do."

I returned the hug. It was so nice to have people (other than Dad) on my side.

<><>​

ABB Headquarters

Geonchugga

"What do we do, uh, sir? Great Inago is imprisoned and the men are restless."

Shuchang was a veteran of the ABB; he'd been a member, so the rumours went, from the earliest days when Inago had forcibly brought the Asian gangs together under one banner. Tall, broad, scarred, he possessed a level of presence and authority that Ha-joon could only wish for.

At just twenty-two, the young Tinker knew damn well his nominal position of authority was only due to his powers. Sure, he could build mecha at every scale from human-sized up to towering multi-storey colossi, but this didn't translate to being a leader of men. Once Inago had recruited him, he'd been much more comfortable in his lab, building ever bigger mecha.

He also knew if Shuchang had been facing Inago, he wouldn't have hesitated before saying 'sir'.

The trouble was, Inago had been captured, and Oni Lee was dead. The never-to-be-sufficiently-damned Wyvern had detonated a fireball just as the latter was in the process of teleporting; he had arrived sporting such severe burns that he had lapsed into unconsciousness and died before anyone could help him. Which left Geonchugga in the position of leader; one he had never aspired to, nor wished for.

Attempting to break Inago out of PRT holding would inevitably lead to him facing the wrath of Wyvern. Her flame was patently capable of searing through the heaviest of armour, and he wasn't confident about force fields either. And even if he managed to hold her in battle (along with the rest of the Protectorate capes) while his troops went in, the lack of Oni Lee as a point man would hamper them greatly.

"Do you perhaps think I do not know that?" he asked rhetorically, in a bid for time to think of a way out of the inescapable trap now closing in around him. "Wyvern beat the shit out of Inago. You saw how big she got. No matter how large I construct my mecha, she can become bigger and more powerful. If we attack the PRT building in force, she will be there to support the Protectorate heroes."

Shuchang glanced around, then leaned closer. "Keep your voice down sir," he advised quietly. "If the men heard you speaking in such a defeated fashion, they may lose faith in you."

Ha-joon shook his head, but he lowered his tone anyway. "And maybe they'd be right. I'm not Inago. I don't know how to beat Wyvern or get him out of holding." It felt liberating to admit it.

"But you want to." It wasn't really a question.

"Well, yes."

Shuchang's expression turned thoughtful. "Have you considered a decoy attack far enough away to draw out Wyvern and the Protectorate heroes, so we can go in and get him?"

"Yes, but the PRT troopers have guns of their own, as well as containment foam and body armour." Ha-joon shook his head. "Even with the capes all drawn away, I really don't think we've got the manpower to get in there and free Inago."

The expression on Shuchang's face suggested a desire to contest this, but he couldn't find a viable argument. "Perhaps if we killed Wyvern? In retaliation for Oni Lee?"

"No, bad idea!" Ha-joon didn't know much about the cape life, but he knew this much. "Hero came to town to test Wyvern's capabilities. We all know why this is."

"To see if she's strong enough to face an Endbringer." Shuchang paused. "Oh."

"Yes." Ha-joon felt relieved that the older man had figured it out. Killing a cape theoretically capable of fighting an Endbringer one-on-one, especially after the Triumvirate had shown direct interest in her … would not be a great move. His mecha were powerful, but not powerful enough to face an enraged Alexandria. Or Hero. Or Eidolon.

The best outcome for such a situation would be to end up in the Birdcage.

"Wait, I just had an idea." Shuchang snapped his fingers. "Geonchugga … can anyone use your mecha?"

Ha-joon frowned. "It is very complicated, and only I know what all the controls do."

"No, no." Shuchang sounded downright excited now. "Small ones. Man-sized. Can you make them simple to operate?"

"I suppose I could dumb them down, but …" Between one word and the next, Ha-joon finally got what Shuchang was talking about. "You want me to outfit you with powered armour? You and the other men and women?"

"Yes." Shuchang stared at him intently. "With the heroes drawn away, assisted by power armour, we could break into the PRT building and overcome anyone between us and Inago. Can it be done?"

"I …" Ha-joon tried hard to adjust to the new paradigm. Inago had never even suggested building armour for anyone else, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe because the leader of the ABB hadn't wanted the rank and file to be anywhere near as powerful as the capes?

He shook his head. The 'why' didn't matter. There was a much more important question at hand.

"Well?" Shuchang gestured, inviting an answer. "Can it be done, sir?"

There was no reason he could think of that it couldn't. The controls would be minimal, and the suits wouldn't have jump-jets or built-in weapons, but such was merely a detail.

"Yes," he said, feeling a sudden excitement building in his chest. "Yes, it can."

Jumping to his feet, he strode right past Shuchang, heading for his workshop. Already, plans for basic power armour were sketching themselves out in his head. He'd have to build each one individually, but if he left out all the usual bells and whistles, it would save a lot of time and resources.

We can do this. We can really do this.

<><>​

Taylor

We touched down on the roof of the PRT building, and Vicky let her mother down onto her feet. I furled my wings, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. Even as small as I was in base wyvern form (relatively speaking, anyway) my body plan was mainly horizontal rather than vertical, and it would make taking the elevator into a distinct trial. Also, as Mrs Dallon had pointed out, I needed to be able to speak, in order to respond to Director Piggot in a timely fashion.

Concentrating, I worked at calming myself, breathing deeply in and out, feeling my tense muscles gradually relaxing. The question of 'why does Director Piggot want to talk to me?' still worried me just a little, but I had every faith that between Vicky and Mrs Dallon, the PRT wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to me which I didn't approve of first.

I still couldn't believe how much my life had changed just from getting someone like Vicky as a friend. I could talk to her, sympathise with her about how her day went, giggle over the silliness on the PHO boards, and in general just hang with her. Amy was snarkier and more reserved, but she was still fun to be around in her own way.

Things are different now. Better. And all because I got powers that let me turn into a fire-breathing dragon. Well … fire-breathing wyvern.

My life really is looking up.

It was almost like trying to fall asleep; the moment I noticed the change and reached for it, it retreated. So, I stopped trying. Relaxing as best I could, I just let it happen.

When I opened my eyes, I was human again. Carefully, I pulled up the zippers on either side to improve my modesty, then took the domino mask out of its pouch and fixed it in place. "Are we ready to go in?"

"Sure," Vicky agreed. "You didn't need me at all, this time. Or the last time, come to think of it. You're really getting there."

"Well, I hope so." I didn't want to jinx myself, but I was quite pleased at the idea that I could manage the Change without outside assistance. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in wyvern form when I absolutely, desperately needed to get a message across to someone. Charades and screeching probably wouldn't do the trick.

The guards at the roof entrance didn't challenge us as we approached, probably because they'd been briefed that we were showing up. Besides, it was hard to mistake Mrs Dallon and Vicky for anyone else. They'd be less sure of my face, but they had to know me as Wyvern. If anyone living in Brockton Bay still hadn't heard of me, they were probably living under a rock, or in a coma. Or both.

"We're here to see the Director," Mrs Dallon said briskly anyway. "We're expected."

"Yes, ma'am," one of the guards said at once. "She said you know the way to her office."

"One way to put it," Vicky murmured to me. "I could even tell you which window's hers."

I did my best to keep a straight face. It would be just like Vicky to fly up to the Director's window and tap on it, then fly away. I didn't ask her if she'd ever done it, just in case she'd never thought of it until then. Giving her ideas like that was probably not a good thing.

The heavy doors blocking our entrance rumbled aside, and we walked on through to the elevator. I felt butterflies in my stomach, fully aware I was walking willingly into the building that I had once stated I never wanted to go near.

God, I hope this works out.

<><>​

Director's Office, PRT ENE

Director Emily Piggot

Emily's intercom beeped. "Wyvern is in the building, along with Glory Girl and Brandish. They're on the way down to you now."

She didn't quite grimace at the reminder—it had always been inevitable that Brandish would invite herself along—but her lips did tighten a little. Bringing lawyers into the equation always muddied the waters, in her experience. She preferred things clean and simple.

And how's that worked out for me, over the last ten years? She chuckled dryly in self-reflection. There was nothing clean or simple about her job; she'd looked hard enough.

"Acknowledged," she responded, then put her laptop into standby mode. It would ping if anything really important required her attention, but short of that it would remain dark. In the time before her visitors arrived, she closed her eyes and mentally reviewed what she wanted to discuss.

There was a knock on the door, and she opened her eyes. "Enter."

As the door opened, she stood up, ignoring the twinge from her calves. Brandish strode into the room first, followed by a skinny teenage girl in a white costume with a silhouette of Wyvern's Changer form on the front. Despite the domino mask, Emily recognised the photo Armsmaster had supplied of Taylor Hebert, mainly from the long curly black hair. Last came Glory Girl, exuding an air of 'been there, done that'.

"Brandish," Emily greeted them. "Wyvern, Glory Girl. Thank you for coming so promptly. Have a seat."

She'd selected the chairs for comfort; unlike some of her visitors, she wanted Wyvern to feel at ease. Brandish took the right-hand one and gestured for Wyvern to sit in the middle. Glory Girl, following her mother's lead (as was probably instinctive by now) took the left-hand chair. It was clear to those with the eyes to see it that Wyvern's membership in New Wave was no casual circumstance. They were truly protective of her, and would close ranks at the slightest provocation.

Emily could respect the sentiment. She'd been thrown to the wolves herself, once upon a time, and the memory still burned.

Silence fell over the office; Emily could tell that Wyvern wanted to speak up and ask why she had been contacted, but Brandish had undoubtedly counselled her to stay quiet until spoken to. Brandish, of course, was willing to sit there and wait out Emily, while Glory Girl simply sat there serenely. After fifteen seconds, she could tell nobody was going to speak up. Fine.

"I asked you to come here," she said, "mainly because of the astounding power levels recorded from Wyvern's test yesterday." She looked Wyvern right in the eye. "You have caused a lot of people to become very nervous about your intentions, young lady, especially after the way you rather abruptly ended the Nine, and showed your largest form to the world."

Brandish sat a little straighter in her chair. "Wyvern has assured me that her intentions are precisely the same as they were before the Nine came into Brockton Bay and kidnapped innocent civilians." Everyone in the room knew Danny Hebert was somewhat more than a mere 'innocent civilian', but if they wanted to maintain the polite fiction, Emily was willing to play along. "She intends to be a hero alongside the rest of New Wave. As you no doubt saw, she's extremely well equipped for the job."

Wyvern cleared her throat politely, causing Brandish to glance at her; after a moment, she nodded.

"Um …" began Wyvern. "What about my power levels? Is it illegal to be too powerful?"

Emily only prevented herself from snorting derisively by the barest of margins. God, it would solve so many problems. Her sense of realism kicked in a second later. And cause just as many more.

"No, there's no problem as such," she admitted smoothly. "I could only wish more new capes had your level of restraint. No, I asked you here because I need—the PRT needs—to know if you're willing to take on specific jobs. Big jobs."

Brandish raised her eyebrows. "If you're working around to whether Wyvern intends to use her powers in the next Endbringer fight, we've actually had this very conversation with Hero. The answer was 'yes'." She glanced at Wyvern. "Has it changed since?"

"Nope," Wyvern said, shaking her head. "I'm still down for that."

Emily had, in fact, known this fact. "Good to hear," she prevaricated. "But that wasn't the task I was alluding to. Are you willing to go outside Brockton Bay to deal with other ongoing threats?"

Wyvern leaned toward Brandish and whispered something. They had a brief conversation, then Wyvern sat up again. "Probably yes," she said. "But I'd need to know exactly what you want me to do first before I commit."

"And at least one adult member of New Wave comes with her at all times," Brandish cut in. "Also, same-day only. She's a minor, which means nothing is allowed to interfere with her ongoing educational needs."

"All perfectly acceptable." Emily would make damn sure it was acceptable. "Very well, then; there are two sites, quarantine zones, which we think would be amenable for your level of power to deal with. The first is Eagleton, Tennessee, where the Machine Army is." She paused a moment, steeling herself. "The second is Ellisburg, in New York State … with Nilbog."

"My level of power?" Wyvern frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

Emily looked her in the eye. "I mean, even the Triumvirate have been unable to mount a proper response to either threat. PRT-employed Thinkers have warned against attempting to wipe them off the map via mundane means. You, however, have shown yourself fully capable of scouring a medium-sized city all the way down to the bedrock, from however high up you choose to fly."

"And the PRT wants me to do what all the big-name capes can't?" Wyvern looked more than a little dubious. Emily recalled how blithely the girl had accepted the idea of facing Endbringers, and mentally rolled her eyes.

"Hell yes, girlfriend!" That was Glory Girl. "Face it, Wyvern is a big name right now. This'll be awesome!"

"Glory Girl." Brandish only had to say those two words, and her daughter shut up. Emily felt a stab of envy; if only it were as easy to make the Wards be quiet on occasion. Then Brandish turned toward Emily. "Wyvern isn't saying yes or no at the moment. We need to discuss this in private, and hash out all the details. But right now, I need to set a few initial conditions. These are non-negotiable."

"Which are?" Emily wasn't agreeing quite yet, but she was willing to listen to whatever Brandish put forth.

From the glint in Brandish's eye, she'd picked up on that nuance. "First, whatever reward monies accrue from these two quarantine zones are paid immediately into the same account the Slaughterhouse bounties are going into. Second, just in case either the Machine Army or Nilbog decides to fight back, I want capes in the air around Wyvern, mustering both offensive and defensive powers. I'll be pulling Lady Photon in on this, but I don't want her to be the only one protecting Wyvern. Third, as I said, she goes nowhere without myself, Flashbang, Lady Photon or Manpower. Fourth, also as I said, we will need to fit the timings in around her other obligations. And fifth, we get priority transport—provided, or paid for, by the PRT—to and from. You are not going to make her fly all the way there and back. There may be more later as I think of them, but those are my initial requirements."

Emily considered the list, but it didn't take her long. Brandish could've asked for much more—a million dollars a shot, up front, just for trying—and she would've signed off on it. As it was, the requirements seemed eminently reasonable. "Agreed. I'll have my people write it up into a formal document, and you can look it over."

Brandish nodded. "Certainly. But right now, I need to confer with Wyvern in private. Do you have a conference room spare on this floor?"

"As it happens, we do." Emily got up from her desk. "I'll show you the way."

"Thank you." Brandish stood as well, with Wyvern and Glory Girl following her lead a moment later. "And of course, the PRT won't be listening in or recording what we speak about in the room?"

Emily could've lied, but that was a bad way to begin a working relationship with a cape as powerful as Wyvern. Besides, she'd learn the result of the discussion soon enough. "I will personally ensure all such devices are switched off for the duration of your discussion."

Brandish's smile was hard and sharp, as though she'd heard what Emily hadn't said out loud. "Good to hear."

<><>​

Taylor

The moment the door closed behind us, Mrs Dallon pulled out a chair from the conference table and pointed at it. "Sit down. Tell me what you think about what's going on right now."

Obediently, I sat; Mrs Dallon took another chair and sat facing me, expression serious. Vicky, clearly aware this discussion would barely involve her at all, perched on the edge of the table and watched with interest.

"Um." I paused. "Well, it's good, I guess, that the PRT doesn't want to arrest me for being a big scary monster. And if I'm willing to fight Endbringers then it shouldn't be too much of a stretch to destroy some quarantine zones as well …?"

Mrs Dallon held up a finger to stop me there. "As a hero, I agree with your sentiment. But as a lawyer, I must caution you that any situation where you find yourself deciding it's 'not too much of a stretch' to add a new stipulation onto a pre-existing agreement is a situation ripe for abuse."

"… Oh." I decided to accept what she was saying. She was both the adult in the room and a lawyer, so I figured if anyone knew what they were talking about, she did. "So, are we going to do this? Or rather, am I going to be doing this?" Because, at the end of the day, I was the one with the scary dragon breath.

"That's up to you, Taylor." Her voice was as intent as her gaze. "Are you actually okay with this, or were you just saying it to keep Director Piggot happy? Because if you want to, we can walk back in there and say, 'thanks but no thanks'."

I frowned. "Wouldn't it make New Wave look bad? I mean, I am kinda powerful, so to just throw it back in Director Piggot's face like that after she asked us nicely and all …"

"Taylor." Mrs Dallon paused for a beat after saying my name, probably to make sure she had my attention. "We are never under any obligation to use our powers at someone else's whim. They are like any other aspect of our body: entirely ours to use or not use, as we see fit. The Director can't force you to do this. I can't force you to do this. Neither should I forbid you. The most I can do is ensure you're entirely up to speed regarding your rights in the matter. The most she can do is prosecute capes who actively use their powers to commit crimes. Which this is not."

"Okay." I spoke slowly, trying to see if I was interpreting what she'd said correctly. "So, I don't have to, but I can if I want? And the Director can't do a thing if I say no?"

She smiled. "Precisely."

I nodded. "Right. Then my answer's yes. I'll do it." I began to get up.

"Wait." She held up her hand, and I sat down again. "I've already outlined what I won't budge on, and the Director will be going along with it, but is there anything you want for doing this? Over and above what I've already stipulated, I mean?"

"I can't really think of anything," I confessed. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"An award ceremony?" suggested Vicky. "Where she hands over a big old plaque to you on live TV, and she has to smile for the cameras?"

"Victoria …" Mrs Dallon spoke mock-severely, but I saw a smile lurking at the corner of her mouth. "Egregiously embarrassing the Director is probably not a good idea."

Personally, I thought if anything would make Director Piggot happy to stand in front of TV cameras with a smile, it would be the end of two PRT quarantine zones. However, I had another idea in mind. "Um … how about if she cleared the way with Mayor Christner and whoever else needs to be in the loop for me to deal with the Boat Graveyard once and for all? I don't have to worry about shrapnel from exploding fireballs anymore."

"We can definitely put the idea to her. Anything else?"

I thought for a moment, but couldn't come up with other ideas. "No, not really."

"Can we still do the plaque thing?" wheedled Vicky.

Mrs Dallon gave her the mock-severe look again. "Only if Taylor wants to. It's not our choice."

They both turned to me, and I bit my lip. "Uh, isn't Ellisburg the one where there's a whole lot of weird creatures running around inside the wall?"

"Yes." Mrs Dallon looked introspective for a moment. "'Nilbog' is 'goblin' spelled backward. I'm not sure who gave him the name, but apparently it fits. Why?"

"If I destroy the place, I'm killing a whole bunch of living things, and at least one human," I said. "I don't think I want to be given an award for doing that. And if I accept one for Eagleton but not one for Ellisburg, it'll look weird. So, no awards."

Vicky looked disappointed, but Mrs Dallon nodded. "Entirely understandable. Was there anything else?"

"Not that I can think of, no." I got up, then turned to Vicky. "Why did you want the plaques, anyway? It's not like everyone in America won't know about it anyway."

She grinned. "It's not for the plaques. It's for making Director Piggot smile on camera. I'm pretty sure she's forgotten how."

I shook my head. "She's a busy woman, and we both know it. I'm not going to be so petty to her, just for the sake of a cheap laugh."

"Good." Mrs Dallon nodded approvingly. "No sense in needlessly antagonising her when she can do something you do want."

"Exactly what I was thinking." I headed for the door. "Let's go give her the good news."

<><>​

Brockton Bay Mayor's Office

Mayor Roy Christner

"Sir, you have a call from PRT Director Emily Piggot, on line three."

Roy grunted in annoyance. He'd only come into the office on a Saturday to deal with some outstanding issues. To actually have to put on his Mayor hat was irritating as hell. Fortunately, Piggot was as aware of the niceties as he was, and wouldn't be calling about something trivial.

"Okay, thanks." He picked up the phone and pasted a fake smile on his face; the easiest way to sound happy was to look happy. "Emily, what can I do for you today?"

"The Boat Graveyard. If someone wanted to clear it in the next few days, what permits would need to be arranged?"

Well, she was nothing if not to the point. "Clear it? As in … clear all those ships out of the way? How is this going to be done?" And why hadn't he heard about it until now?

"Assume they're just going to be gone. Out of the way. What paperwork needs to be completed for this to be legal, no red tape blocking it from being done?"

This was sounding more and more like a cape thing. "Uh … an environmental study on potential pollution, for one thing. Some of those ships still have fuel in their bunkers, and if that gets released …"

"Assume it won't. What permits are required just to get it done? So nobody gets charged with something stupid like the theft of ten million tons of rusting steel nobody wanted anyway?"

"Oh, uh … I couldn't tell you right off the top of my head, but I can look into it on Monday morning. Why? Is someone planning on doing something?"

"We'll talk on Monday." She ended the call.

A moment later, Roy finally got it. Oh, shit. Wyvern wants to clear the Boat Graveyard, and she's asked Emily to talk to me about it. It was the only thing that made sense. Wyvern's terrifying power demonstration had made a deep impression on him. The last thing he wanted to do was get on the wrong side of a cape who could snipe him with fire breath from right across the city.

Picking up the phone again, he made a call. His personal assistant was at home—it was Saturday, after all—but he had her number for emergencies. As far as he was concerned, this counted.

"Hi, Janice? Yes, it's Roy. Sorry to bother you, but I need you to look something up for me …"

<><>​

Taylor

"We'll talk on Monday." Director Piggot ended the call and put the phone down. When she returned her attention to us, her face held a look of satisfaction, if not an actual smile. "He'll get the information for us. We'll know by Monday morning at the latest."

"Excellent." I couldn't help grinning broadly. With Lord's Port open, the way would be clear for more shipping to come back to Brockton Bay, and the Dockworkers would get a shot in the arm they desperately needed. Dad was going to be over the moon.

"Much appreciated, Director." Mrs Dallon stood, and reached over the desk to shake Director Piggot's hand. "When can you have the agreement ready for signing and witnessing?"

"Tomorrow morning, first thing." From the set of her jaw, it would get done if she had to type it out herself. "I'll contact you."

"Thank you," I said, standing up myself and reaching across to shake her hand in turn. She barely hesitated, then shook it firmly.

"No, Wyvern," she replied, looking me in the eye. "Thank you."



End of Part Twenty-Three

 

[edale]

She grinned. "It's not for the plaques. It's for making Director Piggot smile on camera. I'm pretty sure she's forgotten how."

Click to shrink...

Don't worry Vicky... When Taylor takes out Nilbog you'll see Piggot not only smile, but fully on hug Taylor and give her a twirl in joy. You might even see a tear of joy in her eye!

 

[steamrick]

"He'll get the information for us. We'll know by Monday morning at the latest."

Click to shrink...

The timescale keeps getting shorter.

He promised he'll look it up on Monday Morning.
Piggot passed on 'it'll be done by Monday Morning'

Reminds me entirely too much of unrealistic time frames in project planning...

 

[edale]

The timescale keeps getting shorter.

He promised he'll look it up on Monday Morning.
Piggot passed on 'it'll be done by Monday Morning'

Reminds me entirely too much of unrealistic time frames in project planning...

Click to shrink...

Welcome to bureaucracy. I sincerely doubt you'll enjoy your stay.

Unless you're a Vogon...

 

[Ack]

The timescale keeps getting shorter.

He promised he'll look it up on Monday Morning.
Piggot passed on 'it'll be done by Monday Morning'

Reminds me entirely too much of unrealistic time frames in project planning...

Click to shrink...

She's dealt with him before.

Also, she heard the tone of his voice just before they ended the call, when he realised "Oh, shit. This is about Wyvern."

 

[SlickRCBD]

The timescale keeps getting shorter.

He promised he'll look it up on Monday Morning.
Piggot passed on 'it'll be done by Monday Morning'

Reminds me entirely too much of unrealistic time frames in project planning...

Click to shrink...

I've had that happen. I get a call or the boss comes in less than 30 minutes before quitting time on Friday and asks about doing something. I ask if it can wait until Monday because it's almost time to go home and I should finish what I'm doing or it will take longer than quitting time and that would mean overtime. I usually ask if overtime is authorized and the answer is always "no".
Then Monday morning within 30 minutes of starting work the person is there or calling asking why the work isn't done, thinking I said I'd have it ready Monday morning rather than starting it Monday.
For some reason that's a common miscommunication problem even when I clearly asked if I could wait until Monday to do it.
It is even more common on jobs that insist that all overtime must be authorized in advance, and of course in the above scenario no overtime was authorized. Yet they somehow magically think I can get it done before leaving without doing any overtime.

Something like this scenario has happened at three separate jobs in the last 15 years.

 

[space turtle]

While I wouldn't want to doubt the destructo breath weapon.
Nilbog is not a target you want to take any chances with.
He very well might have failsafes that are buried so far underground that removing would start triggering earthquakes and volcanoes.
And if you miss a single one, goodbye life on earth.

Eagleton is a better target as at least they're held in by force, Nilbog is only still there because he wants to be.

Either way. Glad to see people are taking the option that large AoE shaker effects offer seriously.

 

[macdjord]

Mrs Dallon paused for a beat after saying my name, probably to make sure she had my attention. "We are never under any obligation to use our powers at someone else's whim. They are like any other aspect of our body: entirely ours to use or not use, as we see fit. The Director can't force you to do this. I can't force you to do this.

Click to shrink...

Oh, the irony of her saying this.

While I wouldn't want to doubt the destructo breath weapon.
Nilbog is not a target you want to take any chances with.
He very well might have failsafes that are buried so far underground that removing would start triggering earthquakes and volcanoes.
And if you miss a single one, goodbye life on earth.

Click to shrink...

Presumably the PRT either will or already has consulted with the same Thinkers and precogs who told them that the they couldn't do it themselves and confirm that Wyvern can.

 

[Ack]

Oh, the irony of her saying this.



Presumably the PRT either will or already has consulted with the same Thinkers and precogs who told them that the they couldn't do it themselves and confirm that Wyvern can.

Click to shrink...

The Thinkers have noted that something (possibly a disease) will be released if there's a normal assault, or even a remote bombardment.

They have not yet been asked what happens if the place gets Wyvern'd.