Or at least point him towards the white hats. "Three hots and a cot" sound like what he needs right now and unlike most folks on the street he's got something that'll get him a job no questions asked. Well, a few questions asked but they're more like 'what can you do' than 'why are you unemployed'.

And yeah, Stalker smelled deescalation and wanted no part of that in her town. If this is before her recruitment Arcanum reporting her for making the situation worse ('unprovoked attack on an unknown parahuman' etc) then getting her out of her current vigilante mode would be helpful. I wonder if two levels of 'lightning spells' includes some sort of lightning trap to keep her from phasing places?
 
If this is before her recruitment Arcanum reporting her for making the situation worse ('unprovoked attack on an unknown parahuman' etc) then getting her out of her current vigilante mode would be helpful.
She's got knock-out bolts and not the lethal kind that she was using as a vigilante which means that she's already in the Wards.
 
She's got knock-out bolts and not the lethal kind that she was using as a vigilante which means that she's already in the Wards.
Good point. On the other hand, the MC doesn't seem to know her and she shot first, so we have plausible deniability.
If she's here as on official patrol with a partner, that will make things interesting. Call her out for her stupidity, and try to leverage it into getting Heap a probation, perhaps ?
If she isn't here with PRT sanction... *cracks knuckles* even better.
 
I wonder if Ayla is going to have to manifest in front of people for the first time now to protect him, because this doesn't look great.
 
Chapter Eighteen
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It took me a moment to gather my senses, as the stench of the garbage and the rattling of the impact completely threw me for a loop. Underneath all that, I was undamaged, the impact unable to overwhelm my steel absorption. I was still pinned, though, as after the initial impact, the blow turned into a crushing grinding force, as if he was attempting to squash a particular resilient insect.

Rather than try and fight against his superior mass, when I finally collected my thoughts, I reached out with my arm and grabbed the first edge I could get my fingers around. I then pulled, first with one hand, then with two, before finally managing to pull myself free in a spray of trash. I stumbled away from the car, paper and cans falling away from me as I held up my hands.

"Heap! Wait, I don't know-" I started to say, only to have to dive to the side, skidding to my feet as I dodged another wide, heavy blow. "You don't need to do this. We can still talk."

"You talk, I'll just crush you!" He shouted back, raising a large trash limb up into the air, looking to slam it down against me.

"Fulgur parvum fragmentum!" I shouted, even as I jumped to the side, dodging the falling blow.

Using the fully worded and symboled version of my simple jabbing lightning spell amped up its power considerably, a disk of blue energy formed around the tip of my finger. Three arcane symbols spun around it for a moment before a thick blast of electricity lanced out, jumping from my finger to the Heap's large limb. The electricity impacted the trash and was absorbed, the energy dispersing his control over the loose material. The limb lost cohesion past the impact point, slamming into the ground in a much less solid and dense form.

Unfortunately, the trash almost immediately started pulling back into the trash pile, feeding Heaps size, the large limb already reforming.

"Fuck," I said, watching the arm grow back in seconds, Heap laughing.

"That's right! Can't keep Heap down!" He shouted, his laughter carrying a manic undertone to it. "Gonna fucking crush you!"

I was about to try and talk to him again, only for another bolt to sink into his trash body, this time into his head. He shouted again, advancing on me with a fist raised. With a curse, I realized that this situation was no longer salvageable. It was time to put him down before he hurt someone.

Like me, for example.

I dove and rolled to the side, casting lighting spells as I did, electricity lancing out as I ran around Heap. He was clearly tough, as golems tended to be, but he was also slow. I just needed to use his slow speed to my advantage.

I pestered him with lighting, switching between full-powered and nonverbal jabs, all while outrunning his attacks, which only got more and more aggressive and wild as he got angrier and angrier. Eventually, I had enough time to cast a spell that took a bit longer to use.

"Magna pila suspendisse scintillae!" I shouted after blasting both of his arms off, his attacks pausing as he regenerated his limbs.

Magic flared around my hands as I held them together like I was about to catch something. I guided that magic into a swirling pattern between my hands. Six arcane sigils flared to life in a triangle around each hand, a sparking ball of electrical energy forming between them, the size of a softball. I dumped a decent amount of energy into the spell before lobbing it underhanded at the parahuman golem.

The crackling ball of energy soared right to the base of the golem's feet, where the heap of trash seemed to pull into the main body. It detonated on impact, a large ball of electricity exploding outward from where it landed. The explosion knocked the golem to pieces, and for the first time, I saw the man inside of it.

He was… well, as unfortunate as it was, he was pretty ugly. He had a rather pronounced pot belly, only made more obvious by his lanky, thin limbs. Luckily, he was wearing a crude mask, literally just a piece of cardboard with holes cut into it and attached with rope.

Despite the power of the spell, Heap immediately began to recover, trash flowing back to him, a lot of it starting to smolder. Thankfully, I didn't need to wait as I clearly had an opening. I rushed forward, plowing through the trash and tackling the man out of the reforming golem. I could feel something snap, as if I had pulled a sagging elastic band until it gave way. Heap let out a scream of pain, scrabbling against me, trying to escape my grasp as I pulled him completely free of the trash pile.

Despite his shouting and screaming, I wasted no time in putting him down on the ground and quickly intoning Somnum scintilla as I cast the lightning stun spell, the little ball of energy falling down and knocking him out. I double-checked his pulse, which was high but steady, unsurprising since we had just been fighting. I was pulling out my phone to call in the attack, when Alya whispered into my ear.

"Whoever was shooting bolts just turned back into smoke," She warned. "They are coming down… they reformed on the sidewalk. They have their crossbow pointed at your back."

I looked over my shoulder, confirming my suspicion that the one firing crossbow bolts was Shadow Stalker, a Ward. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I knew for a fact her crossbow was very much not a threat, so I focused on confirming that Heap was okay.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her footsteps getting closer.

"I'm confirming he is okay," I answered simply.

"Why were you talking to him?" She asked, her voice filled with accusation. "He your buddy or something?"

"I was attempting to talk him down from attacking me," I explained. "What are you doing alone? I was under the impression that it is against Ward rules to patrol alone."

"Oh gee, would you look at that," She said in a blank, uncaring tone. "We must have gotten separated."

I rolled my eyes at her tone before carefully lifting Heap onto my shoulder, carrying him closer to the store.

"Where are you going?" She asked, following after me. "Put him down and get on your knees!"

I kept walking, though I did shift Heap so nothing vital was behind me, in case Shadow Stalker had the bright idea to shoot me.

"Shadow Stalker, I am moving Heap closer to the crime scene," I explained. "He mentioned there being a store clerk inside."

Something about me dismissing her so casually must have really set her off, because I had only made it a single step further before a crossbow bolt slapped into my shoulder. It punched through my clothes but broke when it hit my skin.

"Are you out of your FUCKING MIND!" I shouted, whirling around on the teenager. "Did you really just shoot me? I already told you what I was doing!"

"I don't care about some clerk!" She shouted back, already loading her crossbow. "You will-"

I rolled Heap off of my shoulder, the parahuman landing in a pile of trash, confident he was fully out. Even as he was falling, I leaped forward. Shadow Stalker reacted with surprisingly good reflexes, turning to smoke and backing off, but not before I could tear her crossbow from her hands. I snapped the string with a single tug before dropping it back to the ground. I then turned and walked back to Heap, picking him up again. By now, the crowd that had formed around us was in the hundreds, with dozens of people holding out their phones as they recorded the interaction, though that had been going on since the start. I carefully put the unconscious parahuman down at the front of the store, sitting him up along the wall.

"She isn't gone," Alya warned me quietly. "She is getting closer, in her smoking form. Will, watch out!"

A searing burning pain flared along my back, just below my left shoulder. I cursed and spun around, lashing out with a burst of near-instinctual electricity. Shadow Stalker had somehow bypassed my durability and stabbed me in the shoulder with one of her bolts. Even before I was turning, she was once again a cloud of smoke, pulling back to dodge what she must have thought was a backhand slap.

Instead, electricity spiked through her as she shifted back into her smoke form. While the burst would normally not be enough to seriously hurt anyone, it forced her to drop her smoke form, where she collapsed to the ground, screaming and twitching.

"Fucking hell, what the fuck was that?" I shouted, quickly standing and taking a single step forward, only to feel a wave of exhaustion wash over me.

"It's a tranq bolt!" Alya almost shouted into my ear. "You need to do something!"

"Tranq… Oh!" I managed to connect the dots in my quickly swirling and slowing mind, barely managing to remember the proper spell. "Purgare sanguis meus quid me effectus"

The usual golden glow of healing magic formed around my hand, even as my vision started to waver. Arcane symbols and a swirl of magic appeared over my heart, cleaning all the blood that flowed through it. Almost immediately, the overwhelming exhaustion abated, and I could stand up straight.

Once I was sure I wouldn't keel over, I walked over to the still groaning form of Shadow Stalker, quickly rifling through her utility belt. She feebly swatted at me, but I ignored her. Instead, I grabbed a zip tie, dragged her three feet to the sidewalk, and wrapped her arms around a streetlamp before zip-tying her wrists together. I repeated the process with her legs, before finally stepping back.

I nodded, satisfied with my work, before casting the blood-purifying spell again. The exhaustion had started to creep up on me again, but I could feel its effects fading completely. I let out a long breath, before making my way inside the shop. Unsurprisingly, the place was a disaster area, but my only concern was the clerk.

"Hello?" I called out. "This is Arcanum! Is anyone here injured?"

I heard a groan behind the counter, so I quickly rushed around to check. Just as Alya had warned me, a man was laying on the floor, stirring but unable to sit up. His face was cut up and bloody, and he had the signs of a serious knock to the head.

"Alya," I whispered. "Check the rest of the store for victims, then go outside and keep watch. I can't imagine we are going to be alone here for long."

With a few small splashes of water on his lips, and through his hair, I managed to get the clerk aware enough to agree to healing. He had a pretty serious concussion and deep cuts along his cheek and scalp, but I fixed those up pretty well. When he was awake and fully healed, I slowly helped him to his feet.

"Miss Militia and two other Wards are here, Vista and Aegis," Alya whispered. "They are freeing Shadow Stalker, but she is still out of it."

I let out a long sigh before continuing to help the man outside. By the time we stepped out into the sun, he was more or less moving under his own power.

"Arcanum, freeze!" Miss Militia shouted, an orange-stocked shotgun already readied on her shoulder. "You are under arrest for assaulting a Ward!"

I held my hands out slowly, making no sudden movement. I was pretty sure she was currently using non lethal rounds, since that was what the bright orange stock usually represented. That said, I really didn't want this to spiral any further than it already had.

"Miss Militia, I will go quietly and without struggle," I assured her. "If you have one of the Wards watch one of the recordings made by these lovely bystanders. Please."

For a long moment, I thought she was going to deny my request, as unusual as it was. Thankfully, cooler head prevailed, and she gestured to Aegis, who flew forward and landed by a group of people. Several bystanders attempted to shove phones at him, and he simply accepted the closest.

After over a minute of watching, Aegis winced and looked up at his superior.

"Miss Militia… you might want to come see this," He said. "It's… It doesn't look good."

The Protectorate heroine looked over at the Ward, before fixing me with a glare.

"I promise I won't do anything. In fact…"

I looked over my shoulder, confirming my position, before carefully sitting down on the side of the curb, my hands still spread. I looked back at the female hero before shrugging. After a moment, her weapon swirled back into green energy, shifting to a pistol, which she holstered on her hip. After that, she made her way to Aegis's side, watching whatever video he had. Even though I could only see her eyes, it was impossible not to see her expression shift from annoyed to confused, then finally settling on angry.

When she was finally done watching the first recording, she shifted along the crowd to find another person with a different angle. After watching that, she began speaking into her radio, holding her hand to her ear. As she did, PRT troops arrived, making quick work of the crowd, pushing them back and cordoning off the area. A trio of guards gathered up Heap, quickly transferring him to a van and driving away.

As this happened, Miss Militia continued to talk in hushed, rapid words, standing far enough away that I couldn't hear her. Thankfully, Alya had no real issue.

"She is just explaining the situation, talking directly to Director Piggot," Alya informed me. "I can't hear what the Director is saying."

After a few minutes, during which Shadow Stalker is released from her constraints and taken away in another PRT van, Miss Militia approached me again.

"It seems I owe you an apology… Again," She said, holding out her hand.

"Yeah… maybe try and keep that from being a habit," I responded, taking her hand so she could help me to my feet, standing from the curb. "Look, I didn't want to hurt her. She's just a kid, but…"

"You were attempting to de-escalate the situation," She finished for me. "Even after she shot at you once. You should… Arcanum, do you need medical attention?"

She paused and shifted halfway through her sentence as if suddenly realizing that, yes, I had, in fact, been stabbed.

"Actually, I could use your help," I admitted, turning around. "I can't reach it... could you yank it out? I can heal it myself after it's gone."

She seemed frozen at the request but eventually nodded. She reached into her utility belt and pulled out a pair of nitrile gloves, as well as a whole bunch of gauze or something along the same lines. I turned around to give her access to the bolt.

"Okay, just let me-"

Blinding pain fired in every direction as the Protectorate heroine yanked the arrow from my back. I could vaguely feel her applying pressure to keep me from bleeding too heavily.

"-numb myself," I managed to finish through clenched teeth. "Never mind."

"... I'm sorry, I didn't know you could do that," Miss Militia admitted, sounding genuinely horrified at what she had done, watching as I quickly healed myself. "I thought you were going to say clench, which would have only made it worse, so-"

"It's fine, honestly. The pain is already gone," I assured her, letting out a ragged breath. "See, good as new."

"I… see," She said, seeming to seriously be off step. Eventually, after a few moments, she seemed to visibly restart herself and finally continue. "Arcanum, Director Piggot would consider it a personal favor if you would come in to discuss what has happened here."

"... Do I have a choice?" I asked. "And would I be home before dinner?"

"Yes," Miss Militia said with certainty. "To both questions."

I looked at the patriotic hero, trying to determine what my best option was. My first instinct was to tell her to fuck off, but even if I wasn't their biggest fan, I wasn't looking to piss off the PRT or Protectorate any more than necessary. On top of that, I had no doubt this was a complicated situation, and a large part of me wanted to know more. Deciding that the risk was worth getting some background information on what had just happened, I nodded in agreement.

"In that case... lead the way."
 
Honestly, Shadow Stalker's power is stronger then most give it credit for. Unless you know her singular weakness in ghost form, she's functionally both untouchable and a minor All-or-nothing cape. A shame she's such a raging bitch.
 
For how 'stupid' Shadowstalker is with her predator/prey shtick it wonders me every time that no evidence ever showed up. Not even some shaky vid made by some bystander.

Probably because her power makes hiding evidence very easy. She can just phase things underground if she wants to hide bolts... or bodies.

Sophia has a body count, but was never caught for murder after all.

She was probably planning to just tranq him first and make something up, but the moment the bolt bounced off and Will snapped her crossbow... well her anger took over.
 
He should make sure to offer to heal Heap when he gets there. He felt something snap when he tackled him, so that could be a broken bone at the very least.
 
Maybe I'm being pedantic, but what normal person would immediately go with the "government" that has deceived and lied to you and also employs unstable children to fight crimes? I mean they clearly are antagonistic and literally keep either betraying or misleading you?

If the teenage murder psycho shoots you when trying to de-escalate, and then they try to arrest you for self defense. The logical response is anger. He's very trusting and forgiving, but that's a second time and third time they've done him dirty. I'd hope he can channel the same anger he had when panacea tried to guilt him about healing the homeless and taking money this time,

And for the love of all that is holy, please get the video recordings from civilians. If he's not gonna reschedule, get something to prepare yourself for them to fuck you over. You have them at a major disadvantage, don't fumble it.

PS great chapter! Hoping it doesn't end again with a naive protagonist getting screwed because he is too trusting of the obviously corrupt system
 
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Forgiving, sure. Trusting? I wouldn't say that, it's just that ranting about how the PRT has been trying to do him dirty ever since he showed up doesn't help anything but his blood pressure. Making it clear he's playing along with people that very much are able to make his life difficult fends off more problems than it solves. In an unlikely scenario where they try to pressure him into signing on anyway, he can just refuse. In an incredibly unlikely scenario where they Birdcage him for something like that? He waits a few months, puts three dots into "Teleport out of prison" spells and goes about his life.

It doesn't cost him nothing to be polite, but he's trying to help people and he can't keep helping people if "hey, I'll heal your leg if you hide me from the cops" is his go-to. Besides, he can vent his spleen to Piggot about her Wards' conduct thus far to her face behind closed doors and get most of the satisfaction that way.
 
In all fairness to Piggot, we have to realize that they were dealing with a relatively unknown quantity and Parahumans do have a non zero chance of making things explode so it wasn't a terrible thing for Piggot to fix the game in a way that gave them (the PRT and Protectorate) as much information as quickly as it could be obtained in case things went pear shaped.

Hell, the MC was planning on keeping things hidden from the PRT so that itself shows that duplicity on their part wasn't a terrible idea as proven by his intentions there. Their biggest mistake was their inability to read their mark in a way to prevent things from snowballing downhill. It was only the loose lips of one of the testers (which I would hazard a guess that said tester went against protocol by letting his mouth get in front of his brain) that sinked that ship. If the tester had followed likely protocol there, no hard feelings and the PRT has information that it might possibly not have had.
 
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In all fairness to Piggot, we have to realize that they were dealing with a relatively unknown quantity and Parahumans do have a non zero chance of making things explode so it wasn't a terrible thing for Piggot to fix the game in a way that gave them (the PRT and Protectorate) as much information as quickly as it could be obtained in case things went pear shaped.

Hell, the MC was planning on keeping things hidden from the PRT so that itself shows that duplicity on their part wasn't a terrible idea as proven by his intentions there. Their biggest mistake was their inability to read their mark in a way to prevent things from snowballing downhill. It was only the loose lips of one of the testers (which I would hazard a guess that said tester went against protocol by letting his mouth get in front of his brain) that sinked that ship. If the tester had followed likely protocol there, no hard feelings and the PRT has information that it might possibly not have had.

That may be true but it is also smart to hide some capabilities and especially weaknesses from others who aren't on your team and have your trust. Especially when they are compromised by spies.
 
In all fairness to Piggot, we have to realize that they were dealing with a relatively unknown quantity and Parahumans do have a non zero chance of making things explode so it wasn't a terrible thing for Piggot to fix the game in a way that gave them (the PRT and Protectorate) as much information as quickly as it could be obtained in case things went pear shaped.

Hell, the MC was planning on keeping things hidden from the PRT so that itself shows that duplicity on their part wasn't a terrible idea as proven by his intentions there. Their biggest mistake was their inability to read their mark in a way to prevent things from snowballing downhill. It was only the loose lips of one of the testers (which I would hazard a guess that said tester went against protocol by letting his mouth get in front of his brain) that sinked that ship. If the tester had followed likely protocol there, no hard feelings and the PRT has information that it might possibly not have had.

Except that assumes the PRT has some intrinsic right to know everything about every parahuman and if said parahuman doesn't want to share everything then the PRT is justified in doing whatever they need to do to get the info, including treating someone as hostile because they want basic privacy. I see it in far to many stories and shows were some group treats someone as hostile or a danger because they have the potential to be one. This of course works great to guarantee that the person in question will eventually become hostile, perfectly justifying their actions in a very destructive manner.
 
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Except that assumes the PRT has some intrinsic right to know everything about every parahuman and if said parahuman doesn't want to share everything then the PRT is justified in doing whatever they need to do to get the info, including treating someone as hostile because they want basic privacy.

I wouldn't say that they have a right but I would say that they have an obligation to attempt to learn everything that they can about exactly what they are dealing with when a Parahuman is going around trying to use their abilities on the public. There have been too many examples of capes having very detrimental effects that undoubtedly the parahuman in question kept the true breadth of their powers hidden to the detriment of the populace (Teacher and Preacher are the 2 that immediately come here).

Just because Big Brother is watching doesn't mean that there isn't cause.
 
Chapter Nineteen
After confirming that I was willing to meet with the director, I had to give my statement to a PRT officer. After that, we waited for the PRT troops to finish securing the location. As we did, I chatted with Miss Militia and Aegis for a while, the latter seeming nervous at first but quickly calming down after a minute or so. I also got a few answers for what exactly had happened.

"Shadow Stalker was with us on patrol when we first got word of the robbery," The young hero explained. "The first call didn't make it clear it was a parahuman, so we broke off our route intercept. Then we got confirmation that it was a new cape that nobody recognized. Wards aren't cleared to engage unknown Capes, so we had to retreat. When we were told to pull back, Miss Militia was called to take over the response. Shadow Stalker claimed radio troubles and continued to move."

"That a common problem?" I asked curiously. "Shadow Stalker ignoring orders?"

Aegis opened his mouth to respond, but he finally seemed to notice that Miss Militia was giving him a pretty hard look. He quickly shut up, his eyes wide as if he had just realized what he was saying. I couldn't help but chuckle at his slip-up. It wasn't exactly a state secret, but he clearly had revealed more than he was supposed to. Poor kid would probably end up getting a talking-to about operational security or something. Unsurprisingly, he refused to talk to me after that.

During all of this time, Vista had been engaging with the crowd, talking and signing autographs. It was smart, drawing the public eye, but I felt like it was wasted in this specific scenario. Still, it kept them from trying to push the boundary that the PRT troops set up.

When the scene was finally under control, the PRT officers started to gather the trash that Heap had used as his golem. When I asked Miss Militia why they were shoving the pounds of waste into bags and boxes, she explained that it was just standard procedure. They needed to contain it until they were certain Heap's powers didn't contaminate, spread, or otherwise alter the material it used.

"Imagine if he retained a connection to the trash he bonded to," She said. "He could use it to hurt people, even while sitting in a cell."

Luckily, we didn't need to help with the cleanup, because the only reason I wasn't gagging from the smell was because Alya was maintaining a gentle breeze away from me and my escorts.

When it was time to go, Miss Militia guided me to the back of a PRT van, empty save for the driver. Normally, I would be nervous about just climbing into the vehicle and submitting to the whims of the driver, but it was very clearly not a prison vehicle. There was no barrier between the driver and myself, the seats were normal with no restraints, the door had a handle on the inside, and as far as I could tell, any armor the vehicle had was designed to protect the people inside, not keep them from escaping.

Hell, I even shook the driver's hand as a test, the nameless agent accepting the shake with an air of confused acceptance.

When we pulled away, I could hear Miss Militia's motorcycle revving up beside us, traveling alongside the van. Unsurprisingly, the PRT agent wasn't that interested in conversation, so the ride was silent. Thankfully, it was also short, only three minutes passing before I climbed out of the van. Gone was the open street, replaced by fluorescent lights, concrete, and asphalt. We had parked in the PRT motor pool compound, which turned out to be under the main building itself. A quick elevator ride later, and we were inside the main building, Miss Militia guiding me to my final destination. I was basically fast passed through the building, right into Director Piggots office.

"Anything I should know?" I asked quietly as we approached.

"...She doesn't appreciate humor," She said after a pause. "Just be straight with her."

I nodded in understanding as the Protectorate heroine knocked on the wooden door, opening it when a voice called from inside to enter.

Inside the simple, unadorned office was a single wooden desk overloaded with stuff. It wasn't messy by any stretch, it was just neatly organized without a hint of being dirty. In fact, the whole room was meticulously clean. Despite that, the desk still looked cluttered because of the sheer amount of stuff on it. There was a desktop computer, a laptop, and several stacks of paper, two of which were more than an inch thick. One of them, the one the director was reading, was stored inside the classic manilla folder.

"Hello, Arcanum," Director Piggot said, putting the folder she was reading from down. "Have a seat."

I nodded and sat down at one of two chairs, Miss Militia taking the second one. As I sat, I got the opportunity to study the woman herself. Emily Piggot was a large woman, her fat, unhealthy form at odds with her clean, crisply pressed clothes and tightly braided hair. She came across as a no-nonsense military woman, but someone had messed with her weight slider during character design.

After a moment of silence, during which she didn't so much as twitch her eyes away from me, she finally spoke.

"Do you understand why there was an attempt to trick you during power testing?" She asked, seemingly completely unashamed by her actions.

"...I assume you saw the opportunity to learn more about an unknown parahuman in your city and took it," I guessed after taking a second to recover from the sudden topic shift. "You probably would have gotten away with it, too, if you had briefed your testing people."

"That has been discussed," She admitted, now with a frown. "That is not the reaction I anticipated."

"What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Toss around threats?" I asked. "That wouldn't get anything done. Don't get me wrong, you lost even the slightest chance of me ever joining up, but I'm not going to cry and scream that it's unfair."

The look she gave me said that a tantrum was exactly what she had expected from me, but after a moment, she continued.

"I appreciate the candor," She said, actually sounding appreciative and shocked by it. "Most Parahumans would not be so forgiving."

"No, not forgiving," I refuted, shaking my head and leaning back in my chair. "Not throwing a tantrum is very different from letting bygones be bygones. You and your organization burned any bridge between us before either of us could attempt to cross it. We can work together out there, but I do not trust you, not by a long shot."

That seemed to flip a switch in Director Piggot's mind, as if the world suddenly made sense again. She nodded in seeming understanding before continuing.

"And what of your healing?" She asked. "I was told you are already in talks with Brockton Central."

"I am. They are just waiting on PRT approval," I explained, pointing out that the ball was in her court.

"Only a full day left before we can declare the volunteers you treated successfully healed with no side effects," she explained. "When we issue you your verification, would you be willing to heal PRT agents and Protectorate heroes?"

"Of course, with the same stipulations as the hospital," I nodded. "Under eighteen for free, adults have to pay unless it is a life-threatening injury. Emergencies happen as they come, but I always reserve the right to say no."

"How much is the fee?"

"How much is the standard fee?"

"It depends on the injury…"

"Then it sounds like you have your answer," I responded with a shrug. "I suspect you're not dumb enough to underpay me, either. Honestly, I expect you will primarily be calling me in for head injuries since Panacea doesn't seem to charge, and you guys are okay with screwing her over."

"Her mother refuses to accept payment on her daughter's behalf," She responded with a frown. "There was nothing we could do."

"There is always something you can do, Director Piggot," I corrected. "But that's not what you called me here for. Unless I'm once again the victim of a misdirect?"

"No, no misdirect this time. I simply wanted to get that discussion out of the way," Piggot responded, leaning forward and bridging her fingers together. "I wanted to discuss the recent... incident. While the footage captured of Shadow Stalker's actions paints a clear picture, I would like to ask you a few questions about the incident."

"I'll do what I can," I responded, gesturing for her to continue.

"What exactly were you discussing before Shadow Stalker fired her weapon?" She asked, glancing to the side at her computer.

"I was attempting to calm Heap down," I explained easily. "He was clearly agitated, but he also seemed confused. I was hoping to calm him down enough to get him to surrender."

"And then what?" She asked. "What would you have done if you succeeded?"

"That would depend on what was going on," I explained. "I was under the impression that there is a certain amount of leeway for recent triggers?"

"Depending on the situation," the large woman admitted. "But that's not for you to decide."

"I never claimed it was, Director," I assured her. "I was simply trying to de-escalate the situation before more people got hurt."

"Admirable," She said, though her tone portrayed a different opinion, mainly that she considered it foolish or pointless. "What was it that Shadow Stalker said?"

"She questioned my connection to Heap and accused me of being his ally," I said with a shrug. "I ignored her because it was untrue, and I was concerned about the store clerk."

"And when you disarmed her?"

"I was concerned she would hit Heap, who was already neutralized, or worse, a civilian," I explained. "I didn't did not want to hurt her, so I took away her weapon. At the time, I assumed I would be fine. I did not know she could phase objects into people in her smoke form."

"And what did she say?"

"She shouted that she didn't care about the store clerk," I responded with a shrug. "I was placing Heap down when she attacked me."

"Yes, the footage corroborates that," She admitted.

"Could I ask you a question?" I said, catching her off guard, stopping whatever she was about to ask next. When she gestured to me, I continued. "Where exactly did that come from? Shadow Stalker's attack, I mean. I did some research on capes and people before I put on the mask, and I did know that she was a vigilante before joining the Wards."

"Shadow Stalker… has some issues when it comes to appropriate levels of force and violence," Piggot admitted. "She was a probationary Ward, meaning that we were attempting to rehabilitate her. We were told she was making progress, but for obvious reasons, those statements are now being investigated."

"But she is clearly just a kid. How does that sort of thing slip under the radar?" I asked, not entirely satisfied by her response.

"To be frank, I don't entirely know," She admitted, leaning back, her own frustration evident. "But when I find out, heads will roll."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" I asked, curious as to why she was being so open.

"Because I am hoping to convince you to let the PRT handle the press about this unfortunate event," she admitted without shame. "Footage of the entire situation is already all over the internet, but our people are already working on the best way to spin this into something that isn't a complete disaster."

"And what exactly is the… 'Situation,'" I said, emphasizing the last word to get my meaning across.

"That the PRT and Protectorate value our children, even those who are lost and struggle with the law. Shadow Stalker was nearly arrested and sent to Juvie when we caught her being too violent during her vigilante days, but we offered her one last chance to clean up her act," Director Piggot explained. "Publicly attacking a hero, a PRT certified healer who was clearly only trying to help, especially when their back is turned, is not the kind of behavior that the Wards stand for. She has failed her last chance and thus must now face the consequences."

"How silent do you want me to be about this, exactly?" I asked, ignoring the clear attempt to butter me up with the declaration of my PRT certification.

"Standard boilerplate answers," She responded. "'I regret what happened, but since I do not know the whole story so, I cannot comment on the details.'"

"Are you going to ask me to sign anything?"

"Would you?"

"Absolutely not," I responded, staring back at the director.

"Then there's no point in asking, is there?" She responded.

"I suppose not," I said. "Why should I let you dictate what I say?"

I made sure to keep my tone calm rather than aggressive. I wanted to know her reasoning first so I could make an informed decision.

"Because we are struggling to maintain positive PR on a normal day, with disasters like this," She explained. "If people can't trust us to protect them, this city is going to fall apart. A lot of people are going to get hurt when they turn to less-than-legal places for protection."

I was tempted to tell her no, but I couldn't deny that she wasn't entirely wrong. As much as I thought the Protectorate as a whole went overboard with the PR, the local branch was on shaky ground as it was. Some of that was deserved, at least according to Tony, but losing more trust would not be a good thing. I wasn't sure just how badly this event would be received, but it would certainly not be good.

I didn't like it, but I saw her point.

"I will keep the information about Shadow Stalker to a minimum for now," I finally responded. "I would be more upset about it, but since I don't know the details of the situation, I would only be telling the truth anyway."

Director Piggot let out a long sigh, sitting back in her chair, though I could see a slight wince as she shifted her body. Once it passed and she was comfortable again, she shook her head.

"Arcanum, I will be the first to admit that your introduction to the PRT and Protectorate was a wash," She said, sounding very much like she hated admitting it. "That said, it was nothing personal. While I understand your faith in the system was shaken, not everything is as simple as it may seem. We are fighting an uphill battle in this city. We are outnumbered and often outgunned. We have to grasp whatever advantages we have, and taking a chance to gather intel is something we can't pass by."

"Director Piggot, I know I am new to this, but I would like to think I am pretty perceptive. I know what kind of workload you and your people must be under. This city is disturbingly few steps away from being run by Neo-Nazis, after all. That alone says just how dire it is." I pointed out. "I'm not naive enough to assume that you have the luxury of playing by the book in all circumstances. Eggs, omelet, all that jazz. But if I could offer some advice? Save the back alley strong-arming and cigar room dealing for people you don't mind pissing off. It's not worth losing potentially valuable allies, especially when you fuck it up."

Piggot leaned back about halfway through my response, and I could feel Miss Militia staring at me as well. Once I was done, I stood up from my chair and stuck out my hand, taking a step closer to the director.

"It's been nice meeting you, Director Piggot, but I believe it's time for me to head home."

For a moment, I wasn't sure if she would take my hand, but eventually, she did, reaching out to give me a single, quick shake. She then gave Miss Militia a look and a nod. As the Protectorate member stood, Piggot directed her attention back to me.

"I appreciate your agreement and your cooperation," She said. "I understand that coming back probably wasn't something you were looking forward to."

"It was good to see where we are both at," I explained. "And to make sure I could get my opinion on the matter heard."

Piggot nodded before Miss Militia led us back down to the motor pool. As I was about to climb into the van, I turned to the gun-toting hero.

"Any idea about what's going to happen to Heap?"

"You weren't wrong about exceptions being made for trigger events, and this is his first crime," She admitted. "In all likelihood, we will be transferring him out of state and giving him a chance to prove he can change. Assuming he agrees and can control himself."

I nodded and sat down in the back of the van, closing the door behind me. After a quick ride in the PRT van, I was back in the same neighborhood as before. Completely drained from the whole ordeal, I quickly changed into my civilian clothes and headed back to the shop.

Tonight was the night my charges were refilled, and I could feel my anxiety rising as each minute went by.
 
The PRT like all governments became occupied more with maintaining itself then accomplishing their founding goals, though I'm sure they say maintaining themselves is integral to their goals. This means it's not just villains who are their enemies but people who threaten them, but again those who threaten them are usually labeled villains.
 
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