Queen of the Swarm (Worm; Complete)

[Vherstinae]

Adaptation 3.02



"Good mooooorning!"



"Mphvg," I grunted as I pulled the covers over my head. My determination to not be disturbed was stymied when I was pounced. "Lisa, what the hell!?"



The blonde bounced atop me like an excited kitten. "Lockdown's up! Get off your skinny ass and come help us move the furniture back!"



"I hate you so much," I grumbled as she tugged the blanket off of me. I rolled out of bed and stretched, feeling my hair brush all the way down to my tailbone. "Y'know, all this weird shit...sometimes I think it's all a fever dream and I'm still in the locker, or comatose in the hospital..."



"It is," Lisa replied in a ghostly monotone, like a disembodied voice. Her eyes stared ahead, unfocused and blank. "And you need to wake up."



I yelped, springing up on reflex and bonking my head on the ceiling. Lisa burst out laughing.



"Oh my god, I can't believe you fell for that! Nice air, by the way." She strode over and offered me a hand up.



I reached up and grabbed her wrist, tugging with my enhanced strength and yanking her into my lap. I restrained her with one arm while I gave her a noogie. "You ass! You really scared me!"



"Regret! Regret! Seriously, Taylor, let up! You're hurting!" Upon release, she sat upright and rubbed her head, wincing. "Christ, Bugs, felt like you were drilling for oil or something."



I could only give a blush and awkward shrug in reply.



She leaned back against me, visibly more relaxed. "Y'know, when you're not almost breaking my skull by accident, you're pretty cool. There's so much about you I don't know and can't figure out. And while that's frustrating, it's also nice. It feels so sterile to just know so much about people. Takes some of the human element out of friendship."



I looked down at her. "Hey, speaking of not knowing, can I pick your brain for a sec?"



She shrug-nodded, turning a little to look at me better. "Shoot."



"Well, it's something that was on my mind last night. When I was...in the locker, the bugs were fucking eating me. But in the hospital, apparently I didn't have any bug bites or major infections you'd expect from a biohazard like that. And then, when I got home, I could, well, absorb bugs into myself and learn about them. But now? I can't." I demonstrated by calling over a fly to land on my palm. "See? I'm focusing on how it felt as best I can, and nothing."



Lisa nodded to herself. "Okay, I'll admit, that's weird. I don't think I've heard of a power suddenly turning itself off. Unless that was somehow an aspect of your power that your body finds no longer necessary?"



Aisha wandered in and walked right past us, climbing into my bed and tucking herself in. Christ, did that girl have no concept of–



I tilted my head at Lisa. "Yeah, I'm not following."



"Well," she expounded, "it seems to me like you've got two basic sides to your power: Master, which lets you control the bugs and make your new critters; and, let's call it Breaker, which adapts your body over time." The blonde crawled out of my lap and sat facing me. "Powers interact in interesting ways. Some people, when they trigger, seem to 'ping' off of other nearby capes and somehow develop an extra power outside their normal package, in response to the external stimuli."



"Now I'm really not following. Like, so much so that you're in the mountains and I'm on a boat in the Pacific."



Lisa huffed. "I'm saying that you were probably only ever 'supposed' to be a Master. But Shadow Stalker is primarily a Breaker, and she was right there, and she was one of the ones tormenting you. You 'pinged' off her and your body developed a Breaker power of its own, to help you survive the biohazard. Your body absorbed the bugs to protect you, and then let you absorb more so you could better understand how they work." She finished with a shrug. "At least, that's the theory I'm working with. There are too many variables to determine the cause with any certainty, but considering Glory Girl seems to have an emotional aura and triggered when she was with Gallant, the king of emotions, it's at least a hypothesis with some evidence to support it."



I connected the dots in my head. "Okay, I think I get it, but what do you mean 'supposed to be a Master'?"



"Well, nobody really understands the nature of powers, but your story in particular led me to question the conventional wisdom. Like, people say, 'Physical trauma, physical power', and the same for mental, but that doesn't really make sense. While I'm not gonna spill Brian's trigger without his permission, suffice it to say that a Striker or Brute power would have made much more sense if we're going with that theory." Lisa pointed at me. "Likewise, you had a mental trigger. But you didn't trigger when your mom died, and I suspect that was much more scarring than the locker incident."



"Okay..." It was starting to come together. "So what does that mean?" I looked down at my claws.



"Well, I'm starting to suspect that we have the cause and effect reversed. Scientists think that the trigger event causes the powers. But what if it's the powers that determine the trigger event needed, and then our bodies work from there?" She poked me between the eyebrows. "Like, your power is based on control, so it needed a trigger where you desperately wanted control. Because of the bugs causing problems, you get bug control. The breaker bonus was based around healing and survival, likewise, because you wanted to live."



I just blinked. "Holy shit."



"Yeah."



I looked over my shoulder to see who'd said that. Brian and my father were standing in the doorway. Dad smiled at me. "Imagine my surprise when I came to see what was taking so long and got a lecture on parahumans."



"Seriously, Lisa," Brian continued, "you should be in academic papers!"



She blushed a little, thankful for the praise. From the way she acted, I suspected that most of her deductions on this topic came from her brain rather than use of her power. That gave her every reason to feel flattered. "Problem is," she said, "you need solid evidence for that kind of thing and there's very little – if any at all – when it comes to powers. I published my theories once, but nobody paid any attention because I didn't cite other scientists or stick to the narrative they're shilling." She frowned. "That was my next career choice, once I found out somebody with my power would totally get arrested for insider trading."



"You'd make a fantastic researcher," he said before walking over to my bed and tugging the covers off Aisha. How'd she gotten there? He continued talking even as his little sister struggled. "Whether or not we do the whole hero thing, you should share your theories with Piggot. This makes too much sense to not spread the word."



The pieces fell into place and I started laughing. I actually fell back, clutching my stomach as I busted a gut.



"Holy shit," Alec quipped, having wandered over to see the hubbub, "she's turning into the Joker!" Dad slapped him upside the head this time.



I wiped tears from my eyes and propped myself up on an elbow. "Sorry, I just realized something hi-fucking-larious. No matter which way the cause-and-effect goes, Sophia – miss 'Rawr I'm a predator and I'mma kill you!' – got a power designed for running away!" I chuckled a little more.



Dad joined in with the laughs. "Okay, that is a riot. Makes all her bullying a lot less traumatic when you realize she's just a coward trying to justify her own failings."



Brian helped me up, grunting as he hauled me to my feet. "Yeah," I smirked in agreement, "it really puts things in perspective. Emma's crazy. Madison has the emotional range of a toddler, or a slice of bacon. And Sophia's nothing but a wimp who picks on those she can get away with hurting." I gave Brian a thank-you hug and walked over to my father. "It hurts a lot less, realizing that. I only ever wanted to be a good person, and maybe this power is the way I can make a difference..." I stopped, my eyes widening in realization. "Ho-ly shit."



"What? Did you figure out the ultimate question? Can you see why kids love Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Have you found a way to grow boobs?" Alec was grinning like an idiot even as my father restrained himself from striking the teen.



"No, I think I understand why I look like this!"



"Beanpole genes passed down from both pare-mrf?" Alec's sentence was cut short as Aisha popped up beside him and stuck a celery stick in his mouth. He blinked at her.



"Well," I opted to continue as though Alec hadn't interrupted yet again, "some part of a cape's power comes from their mental state. Sorry, dad, but I had – still have – really bad problems with self-loathing. I think my physical changes are coming from that."



"Well it's not really working," Brian smirked. "I'm not normally one to agree with Alec, but he's right in this case: you look pretty cool. And kind of exotic."



"Seconded," Lisa grinned.



I couldn't help the blush that went all the way down to my collarbone.



(BREAK)



Rearranging the furniture was interesting. By this point I was about as strong as Brian and my musculature was much less prone to damage, so I was actually taking the lead on much of the heavy lifting. Lisa had opted to organize our books and movies and conscripted Aisha and Alec into shelving while she sorted. As we worked, I did my best to explain Lisa's theory to Rachel.



"So I was always supposed to make things bigger and tougher, and I settled on dogs?"



I nodded as we shoved the sofa into place. "Pretty much."



"That's fuckin' awesome," she smiled as big as she could without exposing her teeth. I smiled back, lips closed of course.



"My question," Brian huffed as he took a break on the couch we'd just moved, "is why you didn't tell us this theory of yours before, Lisa."



"Didn't think you'd care," she answered simply. "Oh, and also, it helps explain why parahuman children tend to have similar powers as their parents."



"Honestly? A while back I wouldn't have given a shit," Alec said as he shelved another section of DVDs. "But after dealing with Taylor's weirdness? All this theory stuff is kinda cool."



"I second that," dad said as he re-hung pictures we'd had to move to make room for the barricades. "Speaking as a normal human, finding out how powers happen makes them less scary and more fascinating."



The phone rang, and dad looked at the living room handset that was currently unplugged. "I'll get it," he said as he walked to the kitchen.



"So," Aisha spoke up, her tone inquisitive, "does that mean Brian and I could've had the same power, except we got it differently?"



Lisa shrugged. "Maybe? This is all guesswork at this point. But it's definitely a possibility. Actually..." She paused in her sorting. "Thinking about it more, there are even more complications. Look at Lady Photon and Brandish. They're sisters, both with light powers, but while Photon got the typical blaster suite, plus forcefields, Brandish got lightsaber knockoffs. And what's weirder are their kids. Laserdream and Shielder seem to have taken entirely after their mom, while Glory Girl's power drifted further toward the physical and gave her an invincibility field."



"Maybe powers are like genes?" Brian offered. "Manpower's was recessive, so their kids got Lady Photon's power set, while Flashbang's was also dominant so...the powers tried to find a middle point?"



"It's as good an idea as any," Lisa shrugged as she got back to sorting.



"Makes sense to me," Rachel grunted.



We all stopped to blink at that.



"What?" she snapped. "Just 'cause I don't know exactly what rr-spesive means doesn't mean I don't get the idea." She ran a hand through her dark-blonde hair. "I'm not the brightest but I'm no shit-tard."



My father chose that moment to come into the room, looking quite conflicted. He sat down on the couch beside Brian. "So, I just got a call from Alan Barnes."



My head whipped in his direction. "You're shitting me." If there was one thing I didn't need, it was one of the hellbitches coming back into my life. Granted, she was the crazy one and her intentions weren't cruel, but that didn't piss me off any less.



"I kid you not. Apparently Emma's been doing her therapy via webcam during the war and her psychiatrist thinks she's well enough to make amends. He invited us to his place tomorrow for lunch."



"That's quick. Lockdown's being lifted as we speak."



Dad gave a little shrug. "To hear him tell it, Emma's been wracked with guilt and is chomping at the bit to at least try to make amends. He doesn't want to wait and risk her sneaking out to try apologizing."



I pinched the bridge of my nose. Damn my moral compass. "...Okay. You can call him back and tell him we'll be there. Out of respect for our old friendship, and out of pity that she went nuts, I'll at least listen to what Emma has to say."



"I'd have just left burning dog shit on his porch," Alec added. "Need anybody to come along with you?"



I tapped my chin. "Well, Mr. Barnes is a lawyer so he can be a slippery bastard, and he was a complete diseased vagina back at Winslow... Lisa, could you come with? You can probably see through any bullshit and cut him down to size." I smiled apologetically at the rest of the group. "I'd honestly like to bring you all, but I doubt rich snoots like the Barneses would agree to host that many people."



"Not without doilies and formal invitations," Aisha smirked.



Alec looked scandalized and tugged one of her cornrows. "Asshole! I was gonna say something to that point!"



She, likewise, yanked some of his long hair. "Then speak up quicker next time, Rapunzel!"



"Rapunzel had blonde hair!"



"Is that really what you're going to argue?"



Remembering the technique's effectiveness the last time she used it, Rachel took off her socks and hurled one at each of the bickering teens.



After that, we were somehow all drawn into the carnage. Socks were soon joined by pillows, towels, and for some reason slices of bread.



It was nice to just cut loose and act like dumb kids.



(BREAK)



Of course, dad made us clean up the mess, even though he'd joined in too. Although he called Alan back while we picked up, so maybe we got the better deal.



"So I'm thinking," Brian said as we trashed the last of the bread, "while you and Lisa are with the Barneses, we'll head back to HQ and see if there's anything left standing. With luck, we can take it and some nearby buildings and turn them into kennels for you and Rachel. Your big bug has to be getting cramped in the garage."



"Good idea. And no, not really. But then again Atlas has been asleep a lot. Fighting so soon after being made took a toll on him. I was actually gonna check on him once we got all this cleaned up."



"How'd you come up with the name, anyway?" Aisha asked from her spot on the couch. Of course. She'd probably been loafing the whole time while we'd been tidying the place.



"Well, he's mostly a huge bug, and his pincers," I mimed the blades, wrists at my cheeks, "look like a cross between a hercules beetle and a stag beetle. So I figure, who's tougher than Hercules? Atlas!"



"Oh. I thought you named him after Charles Atlas."



I just blinked. "How do you even know that name?"



"I used to sneak into Brian's room and read his old comics when I wasn't allowed."



Alec snickered. "Good thing you didn't keep a porn stash."



"Oh, he did. I looked at those after I got my power."



Brian looked scandalized. And like he was going to barf. I couldn't blame him.



"And on that note, I'm going to go hang out with the giant mutant bug because he's less weird than you." I marched off to the garage.



Atlas seemed to come to life as I drew near. He blinked his huge, golden eyes and shook himself in what I figured was the insect version of stretching. There wasn't much room to maneuver, but Atlas wasn't as energetic as the raptor had been. He was stoic; the best way to describe him was as my bodyguard.



I crawled onto his back and leaned forward to hug him around what passed for his neck. "Hey, Atlas. How are you?"



He made a soft buzz in his throat that I took to mean contentment. However, I could feel something else from him. I let my power flow through his body instead of simply allowing his...'presence' to rest at the outskirts of my mind, and I realized he was hungry. I spat up a fresh voicebug and had it go ask Lisa to help me figure out what Atlas would eat. I continued cuddling the big lug until Lisa showed up with the rest of the house in tow, having come out of curiosity. Everybody settled in to lean on the car and watch the show.



The blonde paced around Atlas, studying him, before coming back around to the front and sitting on one of his pincers. It easily supported her weight. Atlas blinked at her and she blinked back. "So, in addition to the new eyes, you gave him eyelids?"



"I guess so. Makes sense, so he can protect his eyes."



She nodded. "Well, best I can figure, Atlas doesn't have a digestive system analogous to any insect or arachnid, nor to a mammal. In fact, I can't think of a single thing that he might eat."



I looked down at Atlas. He looked up at me. I could feel those big, soulful eyes boring into mine. "So he's gonna starve?"



"Maybe," she admitted. "Although, while my power might not be giving me anything, that absence of anything also highlights a possibility."



"Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Conundrum!"



As Brian had said earlier, I couldn't believe I was agreeing with Alec. "Much as it hurts my brain, Lise, Alec has a point. The hell are you talking about?"



Lisa's grin threatened to split her face. "Well, my power's giving me nothing. My power also gives me nothing when I look at the goo from your reservoir. Taking into consideration that you probably wouldn't make something this complex without a way to sustain itself, it's very likely that Atlas will feed on your goo."



"Q.E.D.," Alec sniped. "E stands for 'Ew'."



I looked back at Atlas. He looked back at me. I sighed. "So I gotta play mama bird, huh? Shit."



"No, that comes out the other end." This time it was Aisha.



"I'll have him step on you," I threatened as I slid down his above-the-head, helmet, armor, blade...thing. "Brace yourselves, this is probably gonna get gross."



Atlas leaned up, his mouth parts separating. His mouth was really more like grocery-store automatic doors, two plates sliding out two expose a pinkish-gray tunnel. With no teeth or other way to break down food, his mouth gave credence to Lisa's idea. I hoped it turned out to be accurate. Nasty as this was, I didn't want Atlas to die.



I arched my back and leaned over him, opening my throat and expelling the slime. It was getting easier each time, the process now smooth and calm. I could somehow breathe through my nose as I spewed, so I didn't need to pause. I continued until Atlas' body said he was full. "Good boy." I patted his head and he buzzed again.



"No offense, Taylor," Brian spoke up, "but while that was pretty interesting, it was also gross. I'm glad dinner's not for a while"



"Well," I wiped the last of the slime from my mouth and licked my fingers clean, "if we don't have anything else to do, mind helping me brainstorm a little?"



Brian shrugged. "I guess not, but about what?"



"Well, in addition to names for my different bugs, I'd like some help coming up with reparations to demand from Alan Barnes. Bastard's a lawyer, he's rich, and he works at Brandish's law firm. I'm sure we can think of some stuff that's reasonable but also helpful."

 

[Vherstinae]

Adaptation 3.03



"Wake up!"



"Gah!" Was this going to become a thing? I flailed as Lisa pounced me again. "Will you stop that!?"



"Can't say," she replied as she tugged my covers off. "For now, I have questions and you're gonna answer them."



I gave her a little push, doing my best to gauge my strength, and succeeded in toppling her off the bed. "Then let me get dressed. I'll meet you in the living room."



Lisa exited, albeit reluctantly, and left me to decide what to wear. Much as I didn't want to admit it, I did still yearn for Emma's approval in a way. In the weeks since I'd figured out she was mentally unwell, I'd started to see Emma as two different my people: pre-trigger and post-trigger. The pre-trigger was my friend, a sweet and loyal girl who, while spoiled and a little misguided in her priorities, was always kindhearted. Perhaps it was that same spoiling which left her wanting something more out of her life, made her susceptible to Sophia's mindset after her trigger event. Post-trigger Emma was a monster, yes, but the more I thought about it the more I understood that it was all with good intentions. If anything, however, that made her actions more abhorrent. I couldn't help wondering which Emma would be waiting for me. If she had somehow returned to her pre-trigger mindset, perhaps we really could be friends again. Were she still post-trigger Emma...it would be difficult not to act on my instincts.



I realized that I'd been standing in front of my dresser, drawer open, just lost in thought. I shook my head and selected a blue v-neck blouse, a button-up overshirt, and a pair of jeans. I stretched and trudged out to the living room and was greeted by the bleary-eyed Undersiders. "Morning," I murmured.



"Ooh," Aisha smirked, "fancy. Got a hot date with Miss Psycho?"



I shuddered. "Seriously?"



Rachel grunted. "Even I'm grossed-out by that."



"Moving along before I puke," I said as I poured myself a bowl of cereal, "Lisa had some questions and I figured you should all be here to hear it." I plopped down on the couch. "So, what's on your mind, Blondie?"



Lisa sat down opposite me. "Well, you haven't really told us about Emma or Alan. I'd like an overview of them before we go, so I know what to expect."



Dad chuckled. "Well, that's nice and specific." He looked to me. "Should I start, about Alan?" I nodded in reply and he took in a breath. "Alan and I met at college. He was studying law, hoping to enroll at Harvard or Brown after graduation; I was in business administration. We never had that much in common, but we just...bonded. We hung out together in our spare time, went to the same parties. I think the big thing was that we both wanted to help the city. Even back then, Brockton Bay wasn't doing so well. Anyplace with dockside warehouses tends to attract gangs and druggies, and here was no different."



My father leaned back and sighed. "I met Annette when she transferred from her old campus following Lustrum's riots. I think seeing the hatred moved her from feminist to egalitarian, and we also bonded over improving the city. Anne wanted to teach, help uplift the people, while I wanted to uplift the businesses.



"When Alan came back from Brown, he was a bit different. He'd decided to focus on divorce law and favored making money over fixing up the city. I didn't really blame him, since I'd gotten roped into leading the Dockworkers' Union, and you can all see how well that's worked out." Dad gave a mirthless laugh. "We kept in contact and would reminisce about the old days, and I was so happy when Taylor and Emma made friends. But somehow...I never saw any of what happened..." He looked down, staring into his coffee.



I took over. "Emma was my best friend, so much so that we were practically joined at the hip. We played together, followed the same trends...she was as important to me as dad when mom died. I'm not sure I could've made it through without her. Emma was always there for me, not judging me for anything I needed to do, like when I had to just cry for about two weeks straight..." I paused to take a few bites. "Dad paid for me to take a summer retreat at a horse ranch, to just leave for a while and forget my problems. When I came back, though, Emma was totally different. Sophia was her new best friend and she was suddenly one of the most popular girls in school." I groaned. "Emma was always pretty, but she preferred to stay out of the cliques so she could be with me. But now she was more concerned with climbing the social ladder. And with making my life hell..."



"So why don't we just kill 'em?"



"I'm finding it hard to disagree with Rachel here," Lisa said, "but I guess we can't massacre them if we want to stick to the whole hero group plan. So, what are–"



Brian cut her off. "You can ask her in the car. By my watch, it's about time for you to go, and we should scout our old headquarters."



"I call the bathroom first," Alec piped up and jogged off to change.



I rested my hand on Brian's shoulder. "You be careful."



(BREAK)



"So mind if I ask more questions?" Lisa asked once we were buckled in.



"It's gonna be a bit of a drive," dad admitted. "Go ahead."



"Okay. What are Emma's interests? Anything I can exploit?"



I chuckled. Lisa was always looking for an advantage. "Well, she's always been a clothes horse, and she does modeling these days. She also likes to paint. She's no prodigy, but she tries to emulate Monet. Or she used to, at least..."



Lisa pulled me into a hug. We drove the rest of the way in silence.



(BREAK)



Dad walked in the lead, Lisa bringing up the rear. She kept just close enough behind me that I couldn't stop, couldn't let my nerves get the best of me. I bit my lip and couldn't repress a shudder. Every last instinct told me to run, to put all this behind me and just hide. But I couldn't do that to myself. If I chickened out here, how could I ever trust myself to fight against threats like the Slaughterhouse 9 or the Endbringers?



We fanned out at the front door, dad and I in front and Lisa behind us. He rang the doorbell.



Alan Barnes opened the door, a cautious smile on his face. His eyes then settled on me and his expression twisted. Disgust curled his mouth, warring with his screwed-on smile and creating a sickening mutant expression. He recovered quickly, no doubt from practice as an attorney, and addressed us. "Danny, Taylor, I'm glad you could make it. And, ah, who's your friend?"



In her button-up shirt, khakis and a pair of fake glasses, Lisa looked like our own legal badger. "Lisa Wilbourn," she said simply, her tone cold and professional.



Alan quirked a brow and I had to fight hard not to smirk. She already had him on the defensive. "Please come in, then."



Emma waited in the hallway, more subdued than I'd seen her in two years. She wore a simple red blouse and loose pants, and barely looked at me. "Hi, Taylor," she said quietly. "I'm glad to see you again." I could practically see the guilt and regret rolling off her in waves.



Alan led us to the living room and invited us to sit. Before he could even speak, however, Emma cut him off. "Dad? Could you leave us for a moment? I have some things to discuss with Taylor in private." At his concerned look, Emma gave him her patented pout. "Please."



After he was out of earshot, Emma's expression grew serious. "Taylor, Lisa, there's someone else here." She pointed at the empty seat beside us.



"Ugh, really?"



I blinked as I realized Aisha was in the chair. "The hell are you doing here?" I looked back to Emma. "And how did you know?"



Brian's little sister folded her arms and sulked. "I came to spy on you and prank Richie Rich if she or Daddy Warbucks gave you shit."



Lisa gaped. "Those aren't even from the same story! And how did you even learn about those characters?"



Aisha shrugged. "I asked Alec for some good insults."



"Of course," Lisa facepalmed.



I turned back to Emma. "This is Aisha, another friend of mine. She was supposed to go with my other friends, but she makes it her job to be annoying. So, how'd you know she was here?"



Emma shrugged. "I could see her shining. Or, well, I could see the lack of her shine. It's like, I could see the lens flare around her, but there was a person-shaped hole in the middle."



Lisa blinked. "Okay, that's at least a Thinker 1. You'd be really useful for PRT Master/Stranger protocols."



Emma nodded. "So what's your power, Lisa?"



"I'm not in the mood to say at the moment," the blonde replied with a smirk.



The redhead called her father back in and Alan sat down. Aisha vanished again, just so we didn't have to deal with that headache, and again Alan gave me the evil eye. I met his gaze.



When I was younger, I would have been frightened of him. His size, his wealth, the fact that he was my dad's friend and my own friend's father. Now, I sneered at him. "If you've got a problem with me, Alan, say it to my face instead of trying to hide your disgust." I tossed my hair for emphasis.



"Alright, I'll say it directly: what happened to you?"



"I survived," I replied simply. "I lived through things that would have killed anyone else. I don't understand why, but in healing I ended up like this."



"Mr. Barnes," Lisa interjected, "I was under the impression that this meeting was for Emma and Taylor's benefit. Perhaps we should allow your daughter to speak, rather than you antagonizing Taylor."



Alan frowned but looked to Emma.



The redhead smiled cautiously. "Taylor, I need to apologize to you. For everything." She leaned forward, wanting to reach out to me but restraining herself. "I lost myself. I..." She whimpered. "I felt so weak compared to you, that I didn't deserve you as a friend. I knew I couldn't recover the way you did. For the first time, I thought that I was lucky...I never knew my mother, so I didn't have to suffer her loss like you did..."



I couldn't help it. I snarled at her. My vision became brighter, and I would later learn that my eyes glowed more intensely. "So you admired me so much you decided to torture me for two years? Thank you so much!"



"I was confused! I'll admit it, I was broken! I wasn't strong enough to endure my trigger event, so I latched onto someone who was strong. If you'd been here, I probably would've latched onto you." She cut me off as I was getting ready to shout again. "No, I'm not blaming you for not being here. I'd still have been unhinged and things probably would still have gone bad. I knew...I knew you were still hurting and Sophia's words made so much sense. I wanted to help you transcend your pain and, when I realized you could trigger as well, I made the connection that parahumans could survive suffering that normal people couldn't."



"I don't think that's entirely accurate," Lisa commented.



"Of course it's not," Emma agreed, "but at the time I thought it was. I really believed that, if Taylor triggered, she could free herself from her pain and be happy again. I didn't think it through, didn't bother to realize that it meant I'd be torturing Taylor until she broke." Emma again reached for me, not pulling away this time. I didn't move to meet her, but neither did I shun her. She took my hand, looking into my eyes. "Taylor, I know I'm still fucked-up in the head. I'm slowly dealing with these things, handling my attraction to you and learning about my powers while getting counseling for my trigger event. I've made so many mistakes and I need to make up for them. So I asked you over because you're the person I hurt the most. I want your opinion on what I should do. How can I start to make things right?"



"Give me a moment to confer with my advisor," I said in my best professional voice. Lisa followed me as I stood and walked to the front door. I lowered my voice, using the few bugs in the Barnes house to make sure we weren't followed. "So what do we have so far?"



"Emma's repentance seems genuine. She's told the truth about everything so far. Wants to make amends and try her best to balance out her bad karma. She knows how bad she hurt you. On the other hand, I'm pretty certain she's still crazy enough that, if you told her to kill herself, she'd do it."



"What do you think we should recommend?"



Lisa shrugged. "Personally, I think she'd get the most help in the Wards. We'd also be offering Piggot an olive branch of sorts, finally making up for having cost her Shadow Stalker. Emma might not be a fighter but that sort of Thinker power is very useful."



"And Alan? What's his damage?"



"Some sort of anti-parahuman bigotry. He's fighting to not see his own daughter as a monster, and sees you as proof of whatever problem he has with capes."



I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Wonderful. Well, when we get done with Emma, I want you to lean on him hard. We want him to use his connections with Carol Dallon to try and get us pardons, work on special-needs schooling for Rachel, all that good stuff."



Lisa studied me, probably getting a read on my other intentions, then nodded. "Sure. Shall we?"



We went back into the living room and retook our seats.



I leaned forward. "Emma, I've thought it over and I think you would do the most good – and the most good could be done for you – in the Wards. I recommend you ask to see Miss Militia. She'll treat you fairly."



The redhead boggled. "You really think I could be a hero?"



"The PRT agents have absolutely no powers, and they still go up against deadly capes," Lisa smiled. "You don't need powers to be a hero; you just need the moral fortitude and the courage to do what's right, and the humility to know when you're wrong. With some training to keep yourself safe in the field, you could be a great intelligence asset."



Emma nodded, then looked at me. "Did you join the Wards, Taylor?"



I shook my head. "My problem with the Protectorate is that they're mired in laws and protocol. For such a huge organization, those laws are vital, but they also result in a lot of problems at the individual level. I'm working on founding an independent hero group to do what the Protectorate can't. And no, I don't think it's a good idea for you to join us."



Lisa stepped in, leaning forward in time with my leaning back. "Mr. Barnes, over the phone you also expressed a desire to make amends for your actions. If that still holds true, I have ways that you can wipe away your debt to the Heberts." She stood and invited him to follow her to the dining room, having already figured out the first floor's layout. Alan followed her in confusion, still at a disadvantage. Good.



Once he was out of earshot, Emma looked to me. "Are those bugs yours, Taylor?"



I blinked and realized she meant the few houseflies still at the entrance to the living room, which would have been barely visible from where she was seated even if they were ten times their size. "Um, yes. How did you notice them?"



"They glow a little, too. It's much more muted, but they have your same...color?" She huffed. "It's hard to explain. It's like a sixth sense, and I'm slowly figuring out that everybody's glow is slightly different. It's...as I experience it, I'm learning that it's not really even a glow so much as a presence that radiates from you. I experience it through my eyes so it registers as shining, but it's not actually through my sight, because I can't see the parahuman shine through TV."



Dad smiled. "It's so nice to see you two talking again. I'm sorry I've been so quiet; it's been everything I could do not to just deck Alan while he was sitting there."



Emma nodded to him. "I'm upset with him too. He never noticed what should have been an obvious change in my personality. Dr. Yamada says that, even though learned changes like that are gradual, it should've still been obvious when I was behaving in a totally different way after a few months."



"I'm really proud of you, Emma," I said with a genuine smile. "It's so wonderful to hear you admitting you were wrong and taking responsibility for what you did. I've been sitting here thinking that maybe, after you've gotten more therapy, maybe I can have my friend back."



She beamed at me. "I'd love that. All of this has put things into perspective for me. Even if I wasn't a cape, having done all those horrible things would still make me want to atone. I'd probably be volunteering at soup kitchens and that kind of thing. But if I can be a hero, make a real difference in the world, that would make me so happy." She paused, the gears in her head turning. "Hey, Wards give speeches to students sometimes, right? Maybe...maybe I could write my own speech about bullying. I don't want other people to get hurt like I hurt you, Taylor..."



I could tell she wanted a hug. When she was upset, she's shift around and dip her left shoulder a little. I opened my arms as an invitation. Emma pounced me, though thankfully it wasn't in a romantic way this time. She clung to me, crying a little. I held her close. She wasn't quite the Emma I used to know, but she was working on becoming herself again. I wanted to encourage that, to help her smother the evil person who'd taken over her body.



After a few minutes of me just holding Emma, Lisa and Alan came back. Lisa had a manila folder that she'd obviously made Alan get, and it was full of papers. "Alright, we've drawn up the preliminary agreements, in duplicate. Alan, don't forget to contact me each step of the way."



Alan Barnes' expression was that of a defeated general. Contempt and defeat played across his face in equal measure, and I knew we had him by the balls. Repentant or not, Alan had been of sound mind every step of the way. I found it much easier to forgive a groveling Emma, who had been arguably insane, than the son-of-a-bitch who was so eager to throw his old friend under a bus.



I looked at Alan and couldn't keep the snideness out of my voice. "Pleasure doing business with you." I gave Emma one last squeeze and let her go. To her credit, she only clung for a second or two before remembering her manners and therapy and prying herself off me. I offered my arm to Lisa and the two of us walked out in lockstep.



Dad followed behind, and I was close enough that I didn't need my bugs to listen in. "Alan, if you betray us again, you won't have to worry about Taylor. I'll kill you myself."



Neither Barnes raised a single word of protest. I think they knew he was telling the truth.



(BREAK)



"Alright," I said once we'd driven a sufficient distance for the mood to calm, "what did you get out of Alan?"



Lisa smirked and opened the folder. "Contracts for legal counsel with Dallon, Lawrence & Maksim. Confidentiality agreements, as well. I can call tomorrow to arrange a meeting, where we can get their backing for things like emancipation, official name changes, special education and petitions for legal pardon."



"The pardons aren't a sure thing, though," dad pointed out.



"Rarely is anything ever a sure thing, Danny, but considering our contribution in the war, we can get Piggot and Miss Militia – probably Armsmaster too – to back us up. The mayor would have to be a fool not to add his voice in support, and then we can get the PRT to drop whatever charges they have. It's almost impossible that they'd refuse an offer to get more heroes on the streets." She looked over to me. "How are you holding up, Taylor?"



I smiled at them both. "Honestly? A lot better than I thought I would be. I wasn't lying when I said I was proud of Emma. She's really trying to be a better person and I'm happy to help her with that."



"And I didn't even have to crank the pranks," Aisha said from the front passenger's seat. "Lisa fuckin' obliterated that guy enough that anything I did wouldn't matter."



I turned to grin at the blonde. "Okay, when we get back home, you're telling me all about that!"

 

[Vherstinae]

Interlude 3.x



Grue, Regent and Bitch rode down the partly-ruined streets, all three of them atop Judas. It had been Grue's idea to only take one dog, just to cut down on any attention they might draw. Then again, even one monster-dog was one too many for stealth purposes, but it was worth a try.



Despite the fact that it had been nearly a month since he'd last visited Undersiders HQ, Judas remembered the way, quickly finding landmarks to orient himself so that Bitch barely needed to steer him.



As they approached, the Undersiders saw that relocation had been a good idea. While the building itself hadn't been bombed, one of the first-floor walls had been knocked out by an adjacent explosion. "Cripes," Regent said as they dismounted, "let's hope the deadbolt held."



It, of course, had not. The second-floor door had been battered down and the headquarters looted. While the furniture was untouched, everything else had been taken. Regent dropped to his knees in the common room, pulling a full Platoon in front of the couch, because his Playstation had been stolen.



Bitch immediately ran to her room. "Fuck me! It's all gone!" Every last squeaky toy and stuffed animal was gone. The dark blonde walked around her bed, touching the spots where she had once arranged the plush critters to help her feel safe at night. She stalked back into the common room, eyes blazing. "If we find out who did this, I am killing them."



Grue heard none of this, his mind elsewhere as he stared into Tattletale's room. "Guys? You should come see this!"



While Lisa's room had been scavenged of anything valuable, the red-string conspiracy wall was untouched. "Whoa," Regent murmured as he joined Grue, "it's like something out of a movie." He walked closer and began examining individual pushpins. Some were photos or newspaper clippings, others were post-its or random scraps of paper with illegible scribbles on them.



Bitch elbowed him aside. "What's it say?"



Grue answered before Regent could snark back. "I'm not sure. Anything in her handwriting is some sort of code, so it's nonsense to us. But these other ones are so random they might as well be in code, too. Mayoral candidate debate postponed; Triumph promoted to the Protectorate; Über and Leet's last show..."



"Yeah, yeah," she waved him off. "You're focused on the details. Look." She tapped her finger on the centermost pushpin, a single image of an albino snake. "Coil."



(BREAK)



He paced back and forth atop the platform – the dais – and surveyed his new crop. The city was his, now, and these were his legions. The Nazis were crippled, Lung was on his way to the Birdcage, and the Protectorate would be too busy guarding the construction crews. His army would lay low, consolidating power, and slowly devour the entire city.



Skidmark grinned. "You are all here because you lost," he said in his best 'evil overlord' voice. "If we'd wanted to, we could've just slaughtered you and gotten back to our lives. But, in our benevolence," again he was glad Squealer had suggested he grab a thesaurus when preparing this speech, "we're offering you a second chance."



He spread his arms and was thankful the guys working the lights hadn't fallen asleep or snuck off to shoot up. The entire warehouse lit up, allowing the captives (recruits, as Skidmark called them) to properly see one another. "Welcome to Thunderdome! Rules are simple: You knock somebody out or render them unable to fight, you get a point. You kill someone, you get two points. But kills only count against people who're still upright. You execute somebody on the ground, you get nothing but the warm fuzzies in your gut." Skidmark snapped his fingers and the heavy doors behind him opened up. "Highest points get to join the Merchants. Everybody else is fucked. And until you're done fighting, you don't get out. The room's electrified, so you'll turn to melted shit if you try climbing out." And on that note, he exited and the doors slammed shut behind him.



It was only a short walk to the prefab they'd liberated from Winslow. Skidmark stepped inside, flopping down on the couch beside Squealer and eagerly groping her. She giggled and shimmied closer to his attentions, eyes never leaving her computer. "Cameras are up and tracking, Skids. We'll get a running tally of points."



"And that's why you're the shit, babe," Skidmark grinned. "I figure anybody who gets at least ten points is a shoo-in."



Mush spoke up through some mutant sloppy joe sandwich, smacking his lips noisily between bites. "I still say we should've had killers get the dead ones' points."



"And that's why I'm the leader and you're not, dipshit. That'd just encourage everybody to go after the best killers, so the toughest guys'd die and we'd be left with the sloppy seconds."



"Plus," Squealer added, "this way everybody's more frantic. Less time to strategize means more mental stress, means greater chance of trigger events." She reached back and began fiddling with Skidmark's zipper.



"And what happens if we get a cape who's stronger than you, Skids? Somebody who takes leadership?" Mush looked at the leader with his yellowed eyes, peering through filth-dreadlocked hair. For reasons none of the Merchants had ever understood, Mush reveled in the wretchedness of the homeless stereotype. He was unwashed, covered in grime, wearing piles of coats, trash bags and other assorted sundries all heaped on his back, the weight causing him to perpetually slump forward.



"Even if they're stronger than me, they won't be smarter than me," Skidmark replied with a confident grin. "Now shut up and come watch the fun." He pointed at the screen. "Right now, my money's on Hong Kong Phooey over here," he indicated a wiry Asian fighter using his martial arts defensively, focused on survival more than glory, "or, uh... Squeals, what's a good nickname for a big fuckin' Nazi?"



"Übermensch?" At her boyfriend's confused look, she rolled her eyes. "Means Over-Man; basically the closest you can get to a cape without being a cape. It's what the Nazis are trying to breed."



"Yeah, Oobermunch." Skidmark indicated a colossus of a man, dark-haired and fair-skinned, who was forgoing style in favor of simply breaking his opponents' limbs. "No, no, I got it! He's Ivan fuckin' Drago!" The lead Merchant cackled at the new title, attempting to imitate Dolph Lundgren's accent. "I must break you."



Mush rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fifty bucks on Drago."



Then the camera feeds erupted in blinding light before cutting out.



Squealer slapped her computer a couple of times. "...The fuck?"



A massive impact tore the entire structure off its supports, sending it flipping end over end several times until the walls gave out and the whole thing collapsed in a pile.



Skidmark was the first to pull himself free, having wrapped his body in forcefields to reduce the overall damage. He was still bruised and bleeding, however, as he was unable to layer the fields as he normally would. The moment he wrenched free into the overcast daylight, he was rendered blind and deaf, as though he'd been sucked into some sort of void. Skidmark looked around in shock, trying to orient himself, and then was laid out by a right hook to the jaw. He saw an undulating black cloud and some creepy fuck in a porcelain mask before electricity surged through him and his conscious brain shut down.



Mush rolled his eyes as he heard Skidmark go down. The arrogant little fuck deserved to be taken down a peg. While he would freely admit that he was a terrible leader and shit at planning ahead, Mush was a master of self-preservation. The entire broken prefab rose up, surrounding the superhobo and forming his typical spherical armor. He shifted pieces around, positioning broken wood and metal to turn himself into a sort of giant sea urchin.



Of course, giant sea urchin or not, it made no difference to the fleshy tank that crashed through his armor and seized him in its jaws. The beast was almost ready to bite him in half when Squealer tore herself free of the pile.



Huh. Even through his pain, Mush had to blink at that. He'd accidentally pulled Squealer into his sphere. The tinker pulled some sort of ramshackle pistol and took aim, but her arm suddenly spasmed and her shot went wide. A sharp command caused the monster to hurl Mush into Squealer, and they too were tased.



Regent looked at the Merchants' leaders, laid out on the ground. "That...was a lot easier than I thought it would be."



Grue shrugged. "Skidmark's delusional. He probably thought the Merchants were powerful enough to take over Brockton Bay."



"Fucking moron," Bitch said simply. She then looked over when Judas perked up his ears. "Something's coming."



"Probably one of Squealer's cars," Grue commented. "I'd bet she has something set up for rescues. Think Judas is up for knocking that thing over, too?"



Before the dirty-blonde girl could answer, the three parahumans were awash in pain, gripping their heads and dropping to their knees. The Undersiders were in no condition to stop Squealer's rescue car as it came screaming down the street, but neither were the non-powered Merchants willing to risk Judas to deal with the Undersiders. They loaded up Skidmark and company and took off for shelter.



Inside the warehouse, a young Korean girl gasped for breath, her mind still reeling from the visions of two massive entities.



(BREAK)



Dragon smiled through the screen at Colin. "Y'know, since the two biggest gangs are down, maybe you can take some more time for sleep? It's not healthy for you to run on such little rest."



Armsmaster returned her smile. "I plan to. I just want to get this program finished, which is why I wanted your opinion. It's my Endbringer-alert algorithm."



"Oh yeah? You're that close to being finished? How are you compensating for Simurgh appearances?"



"That's the hard part," Colin admitted. "The others are simpler, just looking for irregular weather patterns. For the Simurgh, I've been thinking of satellite-imaging programs to take periodic shots of major cities." He sighed. "That's the problem, though: foreign governments – especially China – aren't exactly rolling out the red carpet to have their satellites carry an American-made program." He looked over to her. "Could you help me with that? Program some backdoors?"



Dragon shook her head, her red ringlets bouncing with the motion. "Colin, that's too close to breaking international law for my comfort. If it were to be traced back to me..." She shuddered. "However, as Hannah might say, if I were to accidentally leave some of my files open for access and they happened to contain information that you could use...well, that would just be carelessness on my part, wouldn't it?" She gave him an impish grin.



Colin beamed back at her and nodded.

 

[Vherstinae]

Adaptation 3.04



It's amazing what can happen in a month. Stores can re-open, government can return to business as usual, and people can convince themselves that life is normal again.



It hadn't even been thirty days since the lockdown was lifted and already the city was recovering. I felt horrible for thinking it, but the war was probably the best thing to happen to Brockton Bay in decades. The widespread destruction followed by the defeat of Empire Eighty-Eight and the all-but-complete dissolution of the ABB had brought together the ordinary citizens of the Bay, creating a newfound sense of kinship and unity.



Dad was almost always gone during the day but this time I was happy for it: he'd successfully petitioned the mayor to let the Dockworkers' Union spearhead the revitalization project. For the first time in memory, a dying organization stuck to a floating metal graveyard had new life breathed into it in the form of public-works projects. The unemployed were invited to work for minimum wage and the junkies left in the wake of gang collapse (those not snapped up by the Merchants, anyway) were offered a second chance at life from any of the numerous recovery clinics that had opened in the hardest-hit areas. I could look out at the city and feel a sense of genuine pride.



Of course, we hadn't been idle either. After Lisa had been forced to explain her conspiracy wall to the others, we all swore an oath that we wouldn't reveal our newfound knowledge or otherwise tip our collective hand before we were ready to act. Everyone being on the same page helped us to plan more cohesively, however, and we gladly exploited any of our 'anonymous' backer's various spheres of influence to get ourselves established as heroes. Apparently Coil had seen opportunity in having a hero team under his thumb and was only too happy to help us on our way. With his slimy influence on one side and New Wave's legal team on the other, with Lisa's brain holding everything together, we were well on our way to official pardons.



Lisa had suggested that, until we were legally in the clear, we keep our heads down and avoid cape fights. Rachel wasn't happy with that development since we still hadn't found out who had taken her stuffed animals. I got her a big plush cerberus, however, and squeakies for her three favorite dogs, and that did a lot to calm her down. She now slept with it in her arms every night.



While we didn't want to deal with cape fights, that didn't mean we sat around with our thumbs up our collective ass. Rachel frequented her shelters and made sure the dogs were being taken care of. Brian and Aisha faced larger problems with their legal battle, since Brian no longer had a home of his own. Add to that the fact that Brockton Bay had been a warzone until recently and it was understandably difficult to convince the social workers to even come down and visit. My own difficulty was more comical: since Atlas was a living thing, I couldn't just leave him parked in the garage for a month. So I had to take him on walks. The neighborhood had gotten used to seeing Skitter, in the PRT standard-issue jumpsuit and domino mask, riding the enormous beetle around the street before taking to the air to stretch his wings. Even I had to laugh at the absurdity sometimes.



What was most surprising, however, was that Emma began coming over. She still wasn't completely back to her old self, but she knew this and didn't expect for us to go back to how we'd been before my mother died. Instead, Emma was working to start fresh and was focused on reestablishing our friendship from the ground up. I doubted she could ever be my best friend again: no amount of mental gymnastics could remove the fact that it'd been her face sneering at me, taunting and abusing me. I might not be able to forget, but I could forgive, and so long as Emma could settle for being a basic friend (and control any other urges: I caught her eyeing me several times) I saw no reason why this arrangement couldn't work.



Alan Barnes, of course, stayed far the fuck away and with good reason. By now he'd figured out that I could kill him without even trying and that dad was – consciously or not – looking for an excuse to fuck him up, so he gave us all a wide berth. Add to that his suspicions that my other friends also had powers and he didn't dare cross us. Before, I might have taken a perverse pleasure in his fear; now, however, he was so far beneath my concerns. Alan Barnes was just a petty man lost in personal achievements, while I was focused on uplifting the entire city. It was a wonderful feeling, to know I was following in my parents' footsteps.



Of course, life wasn't all gumdrops and ice cream in Brockton Bay. The Merchants were still the kings of petty crime and other groups were attempting to fill in the gaps left by the dethroned gangs. Über and Leet were active again, causing random trouble throughout the private sector and mostly acting like idiots. According to Lisa, the Teeth – a gang that had been nearly annihilated by Empire Eighty-Eight decades ago – had been poking the area, hoping to reclaim the city in which they had originally formed. For now, we could leave these threats to the established and sponsored heroes while we worked on getting our collective act together.



While the wheels of bureaucracy ground slowly, we passed the time by dealing with our next major challenge: branding.



"For the umpteenth time," Lisa huffed, "I'm sorry. We don't have to do much in the way of transitioning, but I just don't think people will be willing to refer to you as Bitch. You'll get no end of harassment from the PC crusaders and you won't be able to just sic the dogs on them like we'd all want you to."



Rachel folded her arms, her glare simultaneously sub-zero and molten in its intensity.



"Look, Tattletale isn't exactly marketable either, so I'm changing my cape name to Foresight."



The dirty-blonde's expression was unchanged.



"Dammit, Rachel, this is for the dogs!"



That finally got her and the stocky girl groaned. "Fuck it all...fine. What did you have in mind? And if you say Hellhound I'm feeding you to Angelica."



"How about Fenris?" At Rachel's confused look, Lisa elaborated. "He's the Norse wolf who's supposed to end the world by killing Odin and eating the sun."



"Yeah, like that's PC," Rachel snickered.



"She's got a point," Alec spoke up from the peanut gallery.



"You're not helping!" Lisa just let her head drop into her hands. I decided to come to her rescue.



"...What about Cerberus?" Everyone turned to look at me and, even after all this time, I still couldn't help my blush. "You usually use three dogs, Cerberus has three heads, and Cerberus guards the Underworld. Since we're the Undersiders and will probably be protecting the city's underbelly..."



"Please, please find a way to incorporate 'underwear' into that argument," Aisha piped up.



Rachel looked at the big plushie on the table. "...I can live with Cerberus."



I gave her a wide smile. "I'm glad. If it were just up to us we'd all be happy to stick with Bitch and Tattletale, but sadly we have to deal with the public if we want to make it as heroes."



"But in exchange," Brian said as he walked into the room, can of soda in hand, "we get public funding, support from other hero groups, and clean records." He sat down on the couch. "And, more specifically, you can get help with your shelters and I can get custody of Aisha."



Rachel just grumbled.



"More good news that you probably won't like," I smirked, "is that dad's been emailing back and forth with Principal Corwell of Arcadia. Once you and Alec are pardoned and can be legally entered in the system, there are spots in the school waiting for you. And Rachel, you'll have one-on-one tutoring from a teacher who supposedly won't bullshit you or treat you like a moron." I didn't duck fast enough and got whacked with a shoe.



"I really fucking hate you sometimes, Taylor," she growled.



I just smiled back, rubbing my head. "Yeah, but you know I only do this stuff to help you. You're one of my best friends, Rachel."



She fell silent at that and opted to grab her plushie and pretend the rest of us weren't there.



Alec, obviously feeling that not enough attention had been paid to him, shifted the conversation. "And my name change? I take it that's also in the 'after the pardons come through' pile?"



Lisa nodded. "Yeah. You can't legally change your name while there's a warrant out for you, but in another week or so that shouldn't be a factor."



"Thank fuckin' christ. The less connection I have to that cesspit of a family, the better."



"On the subject of Arcadia..." Brian looked at me. "How are you going to deal with school? You know people are going to talk."



"Ooh, ooh!" Aisha bounced in her seat. "She's gonna go the pod-people route and spawn a meat puppet to go to school for her, then it'll eat other girls and process them so she can grow boobs!"



I couldn't even dignify that with a response, so I just pinched the bridge of my nose. I addressed Brian instead. "Honestly? I'm just going to wing it. Arcadia's a fresh start and, like Lisa said a while back, New Wave goes there too. I know I stand out a little, but I'm used to being eyeballed and talked about behind my back. At least this time there'll be more of a chance for the whispers to be curious instead of abusive."



"Way to bring down the room, Hebert," Alec chuckled as the conversation grew somber.



I was immensely thankful when my bugs gave me an excuse to change the subject. "Mail's here."



Lisa got up to go and retrieve it. Until I was ready to deal with the fallout and the stares, Taylor Hebert would not leave the house or be seen by the general public. Aisha started whistling something like elevator music while we waited, and Alec soon joined her in a duet. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.



"The good news keeps on coming," Lisa called as she reentered the house and held up one letter in particular. "It's from the state supreme court. My guess before even opening it is that they're summoning us for our official pardons." She flung it to Brian. "Letter's addressed to Rachel, so either they're being assholes or they just never bothered to use their brains. You're the leader; you do the honors."



Brian was surprisingly delicate as he ripped open the envelope, his expression of curiosity gradually morphing into a grin. "You're right! The state's been authorized to hold a hearing for our pardons tomorrow, not only for the Undersiders but for Rachel and Alec, aka Jean-Paul, in their civvy identities as well."



"A hearing?" I tilted my head. "Does this mean we'll still need to argue our case?"



"Probably just a formality," he reassured me. "I doubt they'd let it get this far if they still wanted us to prove why we should be pardoned."



"He's got a point, but we should still be ready. If there's a particularly belligerent judge or if the legal system wants to jerk us around some more, we'll have to keep a cool head," Lisa said with a little frown. "Some anti-cape bigot might try to bait us into getting angry so they can keep us firmly in the 'bad guy' category."



"Think we'll need dad for this?"



Surprisingly, Rachel answered me. "Not a good idea. They already know Alec and me. Your dad comes along, somebody's sure to figure out you're Skitter before you're ready for them to know, and you can always count on the system to fuck you over."



We all stopped to blink at that. While Rachel was by no means stupid, neither strategy nor human nature were her strong suits. She shrugged. "What? Happened to me."



"Fair point," I said as I stood up. "I'm gonna start prepping for dinner. We can have a nice meal, tell dad the good news, and then get some much-needed rest before the big day tomorrow."



(BREAK)



Brockton Bay was rather like Chicago in many ways, and that wasn't just counting the frigid, open-water winters and the rampant corruption. In this case, it was because the Bay was often mistaken for the state capital while the real capital was significantly smaller and less important. Still, the capital housed the major governmental locales, including the state supreme court.



Our summons was for 1 PM, so we had to get started relatively early. On the positive side, this meant I got to bid dad goodbye as he headed off to work. On the negative, we had four long hours of travel in the chilly, rainy early-April weather to look forward to. As none of us owned a car, we opted to take our various monsters out for a spin. Despite the potential seriousness of the court date, I couldn't help giggling like a schoolgirl every time someone did a double-take at the three massive dog-beasts or the enormous mutant beetle careening down the street.



Bitch (soon to be Cerberus) rode in the lead, astride Angelica, while Brutus carried Grue and Imp and Judas brought up the rear with Regent and Foresight. I'd need to get used to the new monikers. I sat cross-legged on Atlas' thorax, calmly adjusting his trajectory so I didn't slip off. I figured I'd need to build a saddle for him in actual combat situations, but for now his natural stability and my power made flying a breeze.



While the trip was relatively unpleasant, I couldn't shake the excitement and had to restrain myself from bouncing on Atlas' back as we rode into town. I was going to be a hero. Moreover, my friends were going to be heroes with me.



(BREAK)



My excitement turned quickly to apprehension as we approached the capital building. A PRT van was out front, along with several news crews who were being held at bay by the local police. Two PRT troopers flanked the entrance, containment foam sprayers on their backs.



For humor and a shred of normalcy, I landed Atlas in a parking space and invited the rest of the team to do the same. One quick order for the dogs to stay and they sat obediently, waiting for their master to return. We strode as one to the capital building, Grue in the lead and me close behind. The news hounds babbled questions at us and I chose to reply by clogging their camera lenses and microphones with bugs. We could talk to the press after our hearing.



The troopers nodded to us as we walked in and I nodded back. Inside the main hall, a secretary pointed us in the direction of the courtroom. It was surreal, knowing that I had gone from villain to rogue and could soon become a full-out hero. We didn't make small talk as we walked; we'd agreed beforehand that we didn't want to give anyone ammunition to use against us. A bailiff opened the mahogany double doors for us and we walked up to stand before the seven judges of the state supreme court.



"O yea, o yea," another bailiff said to open the session, and I had to physically restrain myself from doing a double-take. They actually said that? I scanned the room while our lengthy docket was read off, and I noticed Director Piggot, of all people, in the seats. I swallowed down my bile, not wanting them to smell my fear. Could she be planning another gambit to wrangle me into the Wards? I reached out to Atlas and let him wick away my stress.



I was brought out of my stupor by the judge in the center – I guessed she was the chief justice – speaking up. "Undersiders, that is, the group composed of parahumans alias Grue, Tattletale, Regent, ah...Bitch, Skitter and Imp, we have brought you here today to decide whether you are deserving of a pardon. You have committed numerous crimes against the public and private sectors, most notably the robbery and hostage situation that unfolded in the Clams Casino in December of last year. In addition to a list of numerous felonies, you also count two murderers among your members. What justification can you offer for us to pardon your crimes?"



We looked back to Tattletale and she took the cue to step forward. "Chief Justice Anten," she said seamlessly with barely a glance at the name placard, "honorable members of the court, while laws must be absolute, we have judges and juries because crime always has a cause. Rarely does a person simply decide one day to become a murderer." She looked back to Bitch and Regent. "If I may, I would like to argue for us as a group, as well as for Rachel Lindt and Jean-Paul Vasil."



Tattletale stepped back to stand beside the dark-blonde girl. "I'm sorry in advance for talking about this," she said, resting a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Rachel Lindt was abandoned by her family and then, because she wasn't 'cute' enough, no foster family wanted to keep her. Then, when she found her only friend in the world – a puppy she named Rollo – her then foster mother decided to murder Rachel's only friend. This caused Rachel's trigger event, and in reaction to her trauma Rollo struck out and killed the ones who would kill him.



"After having been abused by the system, Rachel was again let down when she was automatically presumed to be a violent and cruel person. The girl, who had never been taught social skills, and who had suffered a nervous breakdown as her puppy drowned, was then expected to argue in her own defense. Is it any wonder she fled?" Tattletale paced forward again. "Rachel was forced to become a criminal because the legal and social systems had predetermined that she was a criminal and gave her no recourse but to resort to illegal actions in order to preserve her freedom. To paraphrase Sir Thomas More, will we continue to make criminals and subsequently punish them?"



Tattletale next stepped beside Regent. "Jean-Paul has suffered the same fate. Held hostage by his father, Heartbreaker, he was tortured from birth and forced to follow in Niko Vasil's footsteps. Your honors, I would ask you a simple question: if Jean-Paul enjoyed working with his father, if he willingly murdered others, would he not have remained in Canada where he would be safer, instead of setting out on his own with a relatively weak power?



"In truth, we have all been subject to the same confluence of events: failed by authority figures and forced to commit crime in order to preserve our freedom. But now, we have finally been given a chance to turn our fates around. I do not say 'turn our lives around', because we are not the ones at fault. We are victims more than we are predators, and we want nothing more than the opportunity to prove that we are not the monsters that society has attempted to make us out to be."



Tattletale took a deep breath in preparation for her next rant, when Piggot stood up and spoke. "Your honors, the Undersiders have the Brockton Bay Protectorate's confidence. On their own initiative, they established a defensive perimeter to defend the neighborhoods around the docks. Furthermore, they went beyond their own call of duty to cooperate with us in ending the gang war. Each one of the Undersiders put his or her life on the line to help protect innocents. As director of the regional PRT, I fully support a pardon."



We all turned to gawk at her. Lisa had told me that Piggot had seemingly warmed to us, but I hadn't expected an endorsement like that. As usual, I started to speak without thinking. "Ahm..." This time, the domino mask couldn't hide my blush. "Our plan is to establish ourselves as a hero group if we get a pardon..." I looked down and started fiddling with one of my thick hairs.



The judges shifted over and started murmuring to one another. I took the chance to offer Piggot a thankful smile.



Anten looked back to us, her expression stern. "Personal feelings aside, it is the determination of this court that, as your crimes were committed as minors and the most grievous had extenuating circumstances, and due to the director of the local PRT offering you her full support, we are willing to extend to you a pardon on two conditions: you must form your hero group within the year and must be vetted and cleared by the PRT. Should these conditions be met, your records will be permanently expunged."



"Thank you," I said, while still looking at Director Piggot.



(BREAK)



We exited the building, prepared to face the press. Grue took the lead and we stepped up to the squawking crowd. He raised his hands for silence and, when they wouldn't shut up, he wreathed them in darkness until they quieted down. "If you won't shut up, you won't be able to hear us talk," he said as he dropped the darkness.



We waited until we were certain they'd stay quiet. "Now then... We, the Undersiders, are officially turning over a new leaf. We have received a full pardon, which will allow us to function as a hero group instead of as rogues. We'll give a more in-depth statement once we've made arrangements back in Brockton Bay."



Rachel whistled for the dogs, who nearly mowed down the news hounds. I had Atlas fly over and I leapt onto his back, and we all took off for home.

 

[Vherstinae]

Adaptation 3.05



I parked Atlas under cover of Grue's darkness as Bitch progressively shrank the dogs until they could fit through the front door. Dad wasn't home, but when I checked the home phone's messages I found he'd left one for us. "I saw the news, congratulations! I'll be bringing home pizza to celebrate, so call me up with your orders before I leave." I just had to grin as I relayed his message.



"Before that, however," my grin widened and I had to exert real effort to keep from exposing my teeth, so wide had my smile stretched, "I have a surprise for you all."



Our house was only a one-story number, but it had a basement. Well, 'basement' is a generous appellation. Really, it was an oversized boiler room to keep the heat as concentrated as it could in the harsh Brockton Bay winters, particularly with the cold from the open water wicking away any warmth it could reach. However, there was enough room for my purposes. I used bugs to navigate as I carried the large cardboard box upstairs, through the laundry room and into the living room. The box wasn't heavy; pre-changes me could have handled it, but it was bulky and unwieldy as all hell.



To be extra magical, I sent an eyebug into the box so I could identify the items before even pulling them out. "Alec, you're up first!" I pulled out a white bodysuit decorated with metallic gold paint to imitate royal decadence. In addition, the bugs airlifted a Two-Face style dramatis personae mask, the right half laughing and the left maudlin. I had to admit to myself that the Batman movies from Aleph might have had a bit too much influence in this particular design, as the smiling half of the mouth curled almost to the edge of the mask while the frown was a cross between sadness and a derisive sneer. "Made from spider silk and 'silk-mache'," I grinned. "What do you think?"



"Holy shit," the brunet whispered as he accepted the outfit. "It looks like you got my measurements perfect. How...oh christ, I don't want to know, do I?"



I smirked, which – considering my glowing eyes – was probably pretty disturbing. "I had bugs crawl on all of you while you slept. A few nights to get every angle, and then I could get to work." I saw Lisa shudder theatrically in my peripheral vision. "You can still wear your puffy shirt over it, but this should keep you safe from most gunfire, at least for a few shots."



Alec gave me what I figured was the closest to a genuine smile I'd ever get out of him. "Thank you, Taylor."



"You're my friends," I said simply. "I wasn't going to leave you vulnerable when I could do something about it. Now," I smiled as I reached back into the box, "Brian's next!" His bodysuit was all black, planned to be worn beneath his leathers to make him doubly hard to put down. The real beauty, however, was the mask to be worn under his helmet. It covered his entire face, with tinted lenses to help maintain the alien appearance. The design, however, was no longer a white skull: the paint was the off-white, almost-yellow of skeletal bone depicting a grinning demon skull inspired by the Queen Anne's Revenge itself. Since Grue was a master of showmanship-style intimidation, I figured it was only fair to draw from one of the original greats of that art.



Brian couldn't stop grinning long enough to properly thank me. That wide smile of his was all the thanks I needed, though.



"And little sis gets hers next. Aisha, where're you hiding?" I did my best not to jump when she appeared beside me. Imp's bodysuit was all black as well, and I'd taken some creative license with her mask. Well, by 'some creative license', I mean I'd scrapped everything except for the little devil horns at the top. The entire mask was a matte ebony, fitted with black lenses. The horns were slightly more gray and more candy-painted to approximate real horns. I was mostly drawing from what I'd seen of rhinos on Animal Planet, but I thought it worked. Around the eyes I'd had the idea to make stylized flames, like a burning gaze or something, but clearly flames weren't my strong suit. It looked more like she had empty, bloody eye sockets.



"Bad-ass!" ...And of course that would be her reaction. Aisha pounced me with a hug and snatched the outfit from me.



"Y'know, I was gonna hand it to you..." I just chuckled and shook my head, giving up the argument as a lost cause before it started. "Rachel," I turned to the dark-blonde girl, "I had the idea for the extras just before we left. I set the wasps and spiders to work, but I wasn't there to direct them so I hope you like your outfit." First came her bodysuit, also all-black, and built to her proportions. Rachel was the bulkiest of us all, naturally thick-set and further filled out with equal parts muscle and the kind of fat that the homeless need when they don't know when their next meal will be. Next was her mask. I would freely admit that my painting skills on Grue's mask came from using the bugs to move the airbrush, but everything I made was stylized. I knew it was a lost cause to try making a realistic-looking dog mask or even a cartoonish one like she'd buy from the drugstores, so instead I went the route of a full-head mask, almost a helmet, depicting one of her dogs in its monstrous form. The uneven proportions and bone-spur growths were perfect for my silk-mache and chitin shards.



Rachel gawked at the mask. "It looks like Angelica," she said simply.



"It gets better." I pulled out the last part of her ensemble: one of her beloved jackets, fur collar and all, with snarling monster-dog pauldrons on the shoulders. "Cerberus should have three heads, after all." I barely managed to remain upright, though the wind was knocked out of me, as Rachel suddenly surged over and hugged me tight. As soon as I realized what was happening, I didn't hesitate to hug her back. I wanted Rachel to understand that we were friends; maybe now she was really getting it.



The stocky girl took her new costume and walked over to the couch, sitting down as though nothing had happened. I figured it was best not to press it.



"And lastly, Lisa, your costume isn't entirely finished." I cut her off before she could do her extrapolation thing. "Yes, my work is done, but hear me out. Your voice is your greatest weapon. Before, you were taking on heroes, who you could mostly trust to fight fair if only to maintain the Endbringer truce."



"Now we'll be dealing mostly with villains," she continued my thought, "most of whom wouldn't hesitate to break my jaw or other nasty things to shut me up." Lisa nodded to me. "I'll see if I can get a helmet."



I pulled out her bodysuit, which was her black-and-violet color scheme in alternating panels. On the upper body, the right half was violet while the left was black, and the colors were reversed on the bottom half. A segmented utility belt of alternating colors was designed to sit at the intersection of the upper and lower halves. Lisa's signature golden Egyptian eye was located in the center of her chest.



"So," Alec said as he continued looking his outfit up and down, "where's your costume?"



I blushed a little. "Well, I basically had to redesign mine from the ground up, so it'd be easier for me to just get changed and show you. Wait here?" I didn't stick around for an answer, heading to my room to dress. It was certainly a relief to get out of the PRT jumpsuit. I knew that it would have been much more comfortable for me to ride to the courthouse in my new costume, but that would have ruined the surprise. Plus, I wanted us all to appear in our new outfits together as the new heroic Undersiders.



My bodysuit itself was mostly unchanged, the armor in the same places, but let out some to account for my new physique. I had forgone boots so that I didn't have to worry about my claws getting stuck or something else awful, instead reinforcing the soles of the suit and leaving slits for the retractable nails. I figured they might be useful for climbing or for close combat; they were definitely sharp enough to count as weapons. I had made similar adjustments to the hands, nixing the chitin claws in favor of my own. I instead placed some light plating on the knuckles for if I had to throw a punch. It wouldn't make too much difference, but it would be enough.



The biggest change was my mask. Before, it had been mostly spider silk and had fit over my entire head. Now that I needed to leave my new hair free, I'd rebuilt it entirely as a solid chitin/silk-mache piece. It covered my entire face from my hairline to the tip of my nose, the sides running down along my jaw to form the protective mandibles but leaving my mouth exposed. The only spider silk fabric on the mask covered my neck and the underside of my jaw, tucking into the neck of my bodysuit. I mixed silk with chitin around the back of my head at the bottom of the hairline there, to help the mask stay anchored. With luck, having fit it to my face as I had, I wouldn't have to worry about it slipping loose or going crooked in combat. Finally, because my own eyes now glowed orange, the mask's new lenses had barely any tint: just enough to pick up and amplify my own color for sheer intimidation factor.



I checked myself over in the mirror. Yeah, I definitely struck an imposing figure. I reminded myself of Alexandria, in a way: her costume too was very dark and intimidating, though her invulnerability meant that she didn't need to worry about armor. She had a cape, though, and very few people could pull off that look. Most just ended up looking like cosplayers. However...



My mind started to spool up again. I could conceal bugs under cloth, more than I could hide in my armor plates. In that respect, I decided to start weaving a cape and a skirt for the sole purpose of keeping even more of my swarm on hand. I wouldn't use them except in emergencies, keeping a few thousand (or a few hundred thousand) venomous creepies as my ace in the hole. But that could wait. For now...



I walked back into the living room, put my fists on my hips, and gave my best pre-fight smirk. "Introducing the new and improved Skitter!"



(BREAK)



After a round of compliments and teasing flirts (courtesy of Alec until Brian and Lisa joined in and managed to make my blush visible even under my mask), Rachel's eagerness to try on her new costume turned the rest of the afternoon into a fashion show, with each of us taking turns getting kitted out and showing off the new look. I had to admit, I did good work. My only nagging concern was that we actually looked a bit more villainous than when we'd actually been villains, but I figured the gangs and villains could use a little intimidation.



Aisha, queen of suddenness, proposed that we remain in full costume and surprise my father when he got home. I figured it would be good to break in the new suits, so we relaxed around the house for the rest of the day. Rachel took to wearing her mask on top of her head like a mutant pope hat so she could snack while in costume, and I had to admit that her sitting there like that was oddly adorable. After a couple of hours, I announced dad was coming down the street and we got fully dressed. Alec actually had a good idea for how to greet him, so we went with his plan.



My father unlocked the door, tired after a long day of work, but wearing a smile. He came bearing pizza, several boxes' worth of large pies. I gave him a casual smile from my position on the couch. "Hey."



"Hey." It was like something out of a cartoon. Dad paused, did a double-take, and let his eyes wander over each of us. "Holy shit," he said in a hollow voice, then composed himself. "You guys look amazing. Terrifying, but amazing." He finally grinned. "For a second, I thought we were under attack." He walked further into the living room and set down the boxes. "Bottom one's mine. Touch it and die, you little ingrates."



I couldn't help giggling. Dad had adjusted to my parahuman life so well. "Let me get changed so my armor doesn't stab you, and I'll give you a hug, dad." I trotted off to my room while the others got to argue over who would use the bathroom to change first.



"You do that," dad called after me. "I'm gonna get changed, too."



Once we were all back in our civvies, we sat down and started going after the pizzas like madmen. Aisha bit Brian's hand when he was moving the veggie pizza box, while Rachel and I sat down and split the Hawaiian pizza we'd ordered. Dad played up the angry caveman schtick as he growled at anyone who approached his three-meat dish.



Brian and Lisa shared a look and the blonde nodded. He produced an envelope from his pocket. "We have a couple surprises as well. First off, Lisa hired some private contractors to help rebuild headquarters, so we now have what we talked about: a kennel for Rachel's dogs, and a pen for your critters," he smiled at me. "We wanted to wait to tell you until after our hearing, pretty much for the same reason as you and the new costumes. It's still pretty bare-bones and will probably take a while to fill in with our knick-knacks, but it's functional as-is. Moreover..." Brian leaned past me and handed the envelope to my father.



Dad gawked as he read the contents. "What...?" He looked up. "What!?" He looked back down at the paper in his hand. "What!?"



Everybody was smiling. I thought I even saw a tiny upturn of Rachel's lips. I scooted next to dad to read over his shoulder. As I read the contents, I couldn't help imitating him. "What!?"



Inside the envelope was the deed to a new house in Renaissance Park, the neighborhood right next to Arcadia High. The house was on Yonkers Road, because there always had to be a Yonkers. I resolved to put Google to the test and finally find out just who the fuck Yonkers was and why there was a street named that in practically every major city.



Lisa's voice brought me back to the present before my thoughts could get too pedantic. "We figured that, since you can't hide your changes, you'd be worried about someone going after your dad to get to you. What better way to keep you both safe than to have you live right in PRT central?" Her foxy grin widened. "Oh, don't start gushing gratitude. We're still gonna be rooming with and mooching off you until we can secure places of our own."



I was still trying to process everything (and my brain kept going back to Yonkers), so dad answered for us. "This is..." He stopped, swallowed, and steadied himself. "No, I can't say it's too much. After everything that happened, I couldn't in good conscience turn this down especially when it's for our safety." He looked around the room, really looking at it: the ceiling, the baseboards, every little detail was as though he was studying it for the first time. "There are so many memories in this house, good and bad. But..." He hugged me tight. "Things change. A house is just a house, and we can take our memories with us wherever we go. I suppose, with you guys getting a new start, we could do the same." He gave me a smile, which I returned. "By the way, how much did it cost?"



"Only about seven-fifty K," Aisha chirped.



"Yeah, prices tanked during the war," Lisa added with a smirk.



I was later told that my dad and I had identical slack-jawed expressions of shock.



(BREAK)



The next morning, dad let Kurt and Lacey take over administration for the day so he could plan out how we'd pack up the house. He was currently utilizing Lisapedia for that, the blonde following him around and mentally noting all of his comments. While I had justifiably ribbed dad about letting those two have free rein of the Union, I was also excited. Kurt was uncle and goofy older brother rolled into one, while Lacey had the cool older cousin vibe. Arcadia was starting back up soon, so I'd be able to reveal myself to the world and regain some semblance of a normal life. That alone was humorous, that outing myself as a cape would be a return to normalcy, but it was true: while I hid my identity I couldn't leave the house and we couldn't have visitors. I was sure people suspected that we were housing the Undersiders, but without proof it had all been rumor and gossip. When I finally stepped up and showed the world my parahuman changes, I would be able to have friends over again, make new friends, and dad could invite his own friends to the house for booze and bad sports games.



I was seated in the living room, watching Blue's Clues reruns with Rachel. She would make idle comments about the show being dumb or imply it was condescending, though not in such big words, but she hadn't asked me to turn the channel yet so I suspected she found it as childishly cute as I did. I heard my phone start to ring and hopped off the couch, heading down the hall while I had a platoon of flies collectively transport it to meet me halfway. The number was the main PRT signal tower.



"Hebert residence," I said into the receiver.



"Skitter," came a voice I recognized. I could tell Miss Militia was smiling over the phone. "Congratulations on the pardon. Are you and Regent free today?"



"I think so," I replied, "but it sort of depends on what you want us for."



"Well, we're planning to test a new parahuman for probatory entry into the Wards, a parahuman that you know personally, and since we don't have any Masters or Strangers for her to demonstrate her powers, we wanted you to come lend your expertise."



"So her therapist cleared her for duty?" I was happy for Emma, but it seemed a little fast.



"Not duty, but she could benefit greatly from the guidance and education of the Wards program as well as learning to control the urges that come with her powers. Being exposed to capes every day in a controlled environment should be very helpful to her." She couldn't hold in a chuckle. "Though the beginning could be rough. I anticipate as many complaints about her as there were about Assault."



"Well, I'm up for it. Let me check on Regent." I held the phone away from me and hollered. "Hey Regent!"



"The fuck you want!?" he called back.



"Wanna go legally screw with people?"



"Always!"



I placed the phone back against my ear. "Yeah, he's in. We'll see you this afternoon? I mean, I don't want to be in too big a hurry..."



"Afternoon is fine," Miss Militia replied. "Around 1 PM at the Rig. If you bring your beetle, you can land on the helipad and someone will escort you."



"Sounds good. We'll see you there," I smiled and hung up the phone.

 

[Vherstinae]

Adaptation 3.06



Flight.



It's something that we, as humans, always dream of. There is something whimsical, dreamlike, even magical about the freedom to soar into the air and travel wherever you want. Perhaps that's why flight is such a common parahuman power: it's all about the inherent wish for freedom. More wonderful than the joy of flight itself is to experience it with someone you love.



Yes, Atlas was an enormous beetle, what some people might call a monster, but he was mine and I loved him. He was my pet and even my child by some perception of it. As I sat calmly on his thorax, continually keeping him level, I wondered about my own powers. If the locker incident had come sooner, before they'd tormented me so much, would I have developed some sort of ancillary Mover ability from the desire for freedom?



I paused my introspection to slap at Regent's hand as it slid across my breast. I could tell he wasn't doing it on purpose; the brunet wasn't enjoying the flight nearly as much as I was, or really, at all. He was clinging to me for dear life and occasionally trying to find additional purchase to keep himself firmly on-board the beetle. I'd offered to let him sit on my lap, but he would have none of it.



My boobs, small as they were, were grab-able because I was once again in the PRT jumpsuit. I didn't want to expose the new costumes until we came out as a group, so Regent was wearing his old outfit as well.



"I keep telling you," I said in a slightly raised voice to be heard over the rushing wind, "you're completely safe. I'm keeping Atlas level so there's no risk of falling off."



"Easy for you to say, you're in control!" he whined. "My asshole's clenched tighter than Piggot's just so I don't projectile-shit myself in terror! My self-preservation sense is tingling!"



I just rolled my eyes and steered Atlas in for the approach to the Rig. The anti-air guns swerved to our position for a moment and flashed red lights. I figured that was a scan of some sort, because nobody opened fire. We landed smoothly on the helipad and I let Atlas scuttle off both for the sake of his privacy and to open more space on the pad in case anybody else needed to land. I felt Atlas stroll down the side of the Rig until he found a nice quiet spot to lay down.



I looked to Regent. "Ready?" I adjusted my domino mask to make sure it'd stay.



"Yes and no. I'm ready to fuck with people, not ready to get arrested if they decide to get cute."



I nodded and led the way. Alec was still a mystery to me. He was a snarky goof and usually struck me as kind of an idiot, but I'd occasionally get flashes of a dark pain behind his eyes. With a father like Heartbreaker, he'd probably suffered more than any of us, yet it didn't seem to affect him. But he made it clear, when we tried talking about it, that it did affect him, though I couldn't really see the results of it.



I felt my subconscious running a new series of tests, but this time it wasn't for a new critter. In my mind's eye was an approximation of a human brain – my brain, probably, since I didn't really know brain biology and didn't have experience with any other brains. The brain was bombarded with pure emotional trauma without context. No suffering to work through, no survivor story to rely on. Just pain, fear, joy, lust...crippling levels of each, intermittently hammering the brain. As my mental simulations continued, the brain began to deaden its chemical receptors to reduce the impact of these emotional spikes. After a few cycles, the chemicals were only produced at the bare minimum to maintain brain function.



I almost staggered at that and had to reach out for Atlas in order to steady myself. Had I just used my power to help understand another person? I could answer that question with a conclusive 'maybe'. It would certainly explain why Alec was so odd. If his brain had adapted to his father's cruelty, almost nixed his emotional responses, so many little things made sense. But then, those little things could be from any number of other events and influences, rather than one big one. I resisted the urge to groan and hold my head. This was probably what it was like for Lisa, doing so much guesswork in such a short span of time. I also didn't need to focus on that right now. We were here to help test Emma, to make sure she could get back on the right track.



While I had done my best to divorce the two sides of Emma in my mind, I still was nowhere near as friendly with the redhead as I had been and this favor was not out of friendship. Not really. I wanted to help her so she could be a good person again, to take a nightmarish bully out of circulation. Emma had the potential for serious evil, even if the cruelty came from good intentions, and I didn't want anyone else to suffer her tender mercies as I had.



A PRT operative greeted us with a smile, which I already found confusing, and led us into a section of the Rig I hadn't been in before. It was a large area, sealed off from the rest of the Rig and divided into smaller fractions that varied from a firing range to some sort of Escher jungle gym. We were pointed toward the firing range, where Battery stood with Emma.



I was instantly able to recognize her crimson hair but noticed the standard domino mask she wore, meaning that I shouldn't acknowledge her as Emma. I stepped up to them. "Battery, good to see you again." I offered her a handshake, which she returned.



"Skitter, likewise. I heard about the Undersiders' pardon and that you're planning to go hero. Good to hear. We could always use more capes making things better," she smiled.



Battery was the perfect female face for the Brockton Bay Protectorate. While Miss Militia was technically ranked higher and, truthfully, made more public statements, she was somewhat 'other' on many levels: her dark olive skin hinting at the Middle East, which had been a hellscape ever since the emergence of parahumans; her build, nearly as tall as me and quite muscular, with a significant helping of curves on top of it that cut a figure rather like an amazon; even her power wasn't exactly family-friendly, since she could only make legitimate weapons.



Battery, on the other hand, was the girl-next-door. Her straight brown hair came to just above her shoulders, her figure was slender, and her power was not only visually impressive but also had been used as a lesson many times: focus and determination now leads to great reward later. Battery was a prime candidate to speak at many high schools, while her teammate Assault usually handled the grade-schoolers.



I nodded past Battery at Emma. "And who's the new recruit?"



The brunette smiled, happy to go along with the song-and-dance. I didn't know if Emma knew the unwritten rules, so it'd be funny to see her stumble through the act. "At the moment, we're going with Scanner. She's a low-level Thinker who detects parahumans as well as those with the potential to trigger."



"Sounds pretty useful," Regent responded as he leaned around us to get a look at Emma. Even in a loose shirt and jeans she still cut an impressive silhouette and I couldn't blame a teenage boy for wanting to ogle her. "So what're we here to test?"



"Well," Battery smiled again, "why don't we ask her?" She led us the several feet until we were within comfortable conversation range with Emma.



I nodded to the redhead. "Scanner, right? I'm Skitter and this is Regent. PRT asked us here to help test your powers. What've you got so far?"



Emma stared at me, befuddled, for several long seconds before she seemed to catch on and decided to just wing it. "Well, my power works through my eyes. I can use it as far as line of sight goes, but it gets less distinct the further out. When people are far enough away that I have trouble identifying them, the glow starts to get fuzzy. If people are clumped together and far away, I only know if there's a parahuman in the group. I have about half that range for potential capes."



"It doesn't work through walls, then?" Regent's question was, I had to admit, a good one.



"A little," Emma – Scanner – shrugged. "I guess it's sort of like heat-vision goggles in the movies. I can see glows through walls if people are close enough, but it's hit-and-miss."



"Scanner also says she can detect parahuman influence, which is why we wanted some Masters here."



"I could pick out Dauntless' boots from inside a box," Scanner stated.



"...Which is helpful," Battery continued, "but not exactly game-changing. But if she can identify Master-controlled people and animals, that is a valuable power."



Assault strolled in, holding a box. "I couldn't catch anything, so I just sent Velocity out for some mealworms."



I could feel the creatures inside the box, squirming over one another, but I didn't take control. I just let them exist on the boundaries of my awareness. Battery, after she removed her palm from her forehead, took off the lid and set it down before bidding Scanner to look into the box. "So, is Skitter controlling any of them?"



"No, she's..." Emma trailed off as I took several mealworms into my sphere, not actively directing them but holding the controls for if I wanted to. "Wait, I can see a few of them, but the glow is faint." I started steering the mealworms, telling them where to crawl. "Yes, now I can see them clearly." She pointed and I could see her finger following one of the worms I was controlling. "And that one too," she pointed at another one.



"She's right," I said as I relinquished control. Mealworms were boring anyway. "Guess you're up next, Reg–" I didn't get to finish my sentence as I suddenly slapped myself in the face. I shot a dirty look at Regent.



"Did you see that?" he asked Scanner like he hadn't just made me look like an idiot.



"I...think so," she replied. "It's hard to tell because she has some glows of her own, but I thought I saw yours."



I raised a brow. "Some glows? How's that work?"



"Most people only have one color. You've got two." She shrugged. "You have two powers, I guess?"



That could make sense, but...something just didn't sit right with that explanation. I quickly wracked my brain. Most of the Protectorate had only one power each, same with the Wards. Except Aegis, who had flight and redundant systems. Those were definitely two different powers. "Does Aegis have two glows?"



Emma drew in a breath to reply, then paused, her face etched in thought. "...No, actually, he doesn't."



"Huh. I'll have to chat with Foresight about that."



Battery tilted her head. "Who?"



"Tats is changing her name," Regent replied for me. "She doesn't think her old one is very PR-friendly. And Bitch is gonna go by Cerberus."



Emma looked lost. "Tats? Bitch?"



"Tattletale and Hellhound," Battery clarified for her. "And for that matter, why didn't she just go with Hellhound?"



"She hates that name," I answered. "Try not to call her by it or one of her dogs may bite you on instinct."



"Those things are dogs!?"



I had to laugh at Emma's bug-eyed expression. "Yes, Scanner, they're dogs."



Battery looked back to me. "Oh, and Skitter, Director Piggot wanted to talk with you about something. She said it's pretty important."



I nodded. "Alright. If somebody could lead me to her office?" I followed the PRT officer who volunteered.



As I left, Regent suddenly yelped like a frightened chihuahua and leapt into the air, grabbing at his nether regions. "Skitter! What did you do!?"



I just shot him a wink. Maybe mealworms weren't quite so boring after all.



(BREAK)



Emily Piggot always had a severe look about her. Part of that was the shape of her face, doughy with heavy jowls set along well-worn frown lines, but another part was her attitude. I'd seen the same expressions from my father when Union work got to him, the look that screamed, 'I keep dealing with this shit and it never gets any better'. While dad hadn't had that expression in a while, Piggot's face bore what seemed to be the original grandmother of the look.



"Skitter," she grunted. "Have a seat, please." Once I was seated, she slid a manila folder over to me.



"What's this?" I didn't want to look like a goon reading through the whole thing just to figure out what was going on.



"Shadow Stalker escaped from detention." Her statement was quiet, almost gentle for her, yet it struck me like a train.



"Wh-what!?" I flung open the folder and started thumbing through the report.



"Hess and another inmate at the juvenile center seem to have staged a fight that broke Sophia's electric cuffs. She then unlocked numerous doors and incited a riot, and escaped in the chaos. She's been at large for nearly a month; apparently a single low-rank parahuman wasn't deemed important enough to be passed up the chain during the recovery efforts." The heavy woman sighed and seemed to sink deeper into her massive chair. "I'm aware that we failed you, Skitter. We should have monitored Shadow Stalker better, should have been more judicious in who we trusted." Her eyes, rather large but seemingly beady when compared to the mass of her face, focused on mine. "What I'm about to say is strictly off the record. If you repeat this to anyone, I'll deny any knowledge of it."



Piggot leaned forward, folding her arms on her desk. "Miss Hebert, you were the catalyst for our victory in the war. And I'm not talking about your powers. You led me to question the wisdom of several PRT policies which, had I continued following blindly like a good little military girl, would have gotten heroes killed and likely lost us Brockton Bay." Her frown deepened and she looked down, deep in thought. "There's something else at work here, Taylor. Orders don't add up, policies seem designed to foster resentment and conflict... It's like someone is setting us up to fail." Her eyes drifted back up. "I'm telling you this because I need people on the outside to keep their eyes open. I'm hoping against hope that I'm just paranoid, that it's just bureaucracy run amok and nothing more sinister than regulations snowballing into a red-tape nightmare. But my instincts say something else is going on. Let Tattletale know the gist of this, so maybe she can put her power to work." Her gaze bored into mine and it took a concerted effort not to shrink back into my chair. "There are very few people I honestly trust. Miss Militia is one of them. She believes you're trustworthy. I believe you have integrity. I hope you'll prove us right." She gave me a bit of a sympathetic smile. "I know this is a lot to take in; believe me, I deal with crises like this every week on average. If you want, you and Regent can join the Wards for lunch in the cafeteria."



I blinked, my brain latching onto that bit of mundanity. "Lunch? But isn't it close to 2?"



"Patrol and monitor schedules change every day to keep villains on their toes. Today happens to be a later lunch because of that. And Taylor? Keep your guard up. Our profilers believe that Shadow Stalker will come after you eventually."



I snorted. "You don't need criminal psychologists to figure that out." I went to leave but stopped myself, turning back around. "Director, why did you tell me all this? I mean, why really? You could have waited, and surely there are people more qualified–"



"That's just it," she cut me off. "It's all unknown and up in the air. Could I have waited? I don't know. The public goodwill over our handling of the war is the only reason I haven't been reassigned, which at this point would probably be forced renditioning to a Simurgh quarantine zone. And yes, there are more qualified people, but I don't know if I can trust them. You're an outsider, someone who's been repeatedly failed by the system. Even if I'm still not certain I can trust you, I think I can trust that you're not working for some larger organization." She let her guard down, just a little, and I could see how utterly weary she was. "I need independents. We, the PRT, need outside oversight because our interior checks and balances aren't coming out to 1. I just can't go rooting for a corruption that may not even exist, because I'm more needed here and making waves is going to get me removed. So I need people like you. I'm sorry for dropping something like this on you, but this is what comes with being a hero. You don't get to choose when crises or conspiracies are going to pop up. But," she leaned back again and composed herself, "you're still a teenager and deserve to act like one. Go, have lunch with the Wards, try to have some fun. Don't let my bombshell here rule your life."



"Easy for you to say," I muttered as I left her office.



I stalked down the hall in a daze. All of that information swirled in my head...the national Protectorate's refusal to help, the apparent competition and disenfranchisement of rogue groups when the narrative was that rogues should be encouraged, even my own suffering at Shadow Stalker's hands...



I stopped, having another Keanu Reeves "Whoa" moment. Winslow did fuck-all to help because they wanted Shadow Stalker to stay with them. What if the PRT had a similar agenda? Perhaps one of the Triumvirate – or all of them – was holding defection over the humans' heads like the sword of Damocles? Or something else, another S-class threat? A new Sleeper being placated?



I shook my head and resumed walking. Piggot was right: if I focused too much on this, it would rule my life. I'd just started finding myself again, coming to terms with my changes. I couldn't backslide like that. Okay, Taylor. One thing at a time. We can keep this on the back-burner like our Coil investigation. For the moment, lunch took priority.



Well, maybe not priority. Honestly, except for when food was offered, I hadn't eaten – hadn't even felt hungry – since my reservoir formed. Maybe I was drawing nutrients from the slimy stuff in there? Regardless, my stomach still functioned, so I could eat if I wanted to. Anyway, lunch would allow me to relax and take my mind off things, as well as talk with the Wards again. I had genuinely liked them the last time we met, and they'd stuck their necks out for me against Shadow Stalker.



(BREAK)



The Rig's main cafeteria was well-designed and well-stocked. Unlike Winslow's cafeteria, which herded kids into a single depressing line and had us all scowled at by evil-looking lunch ladies, the PRT cafeteria had several buffet lines to keep things moving. It also worked due to the changing work shifts. My arm suddenly flung out and pointed to my nine o'clock, and I looked over to see Regent waving at me, sitting with some of the Wards. I trotted over to the bench and took a seat beside the brunet.



Vista smiled at me from the other side. "Skitter, good to see you again."



I nodded and smiled at her and Clockblocker. "Likewise. Where's Aegis?"



"Monitor duty," Clockblocker replied. "It's his turn to suffer. So meet the rest of the family." He jerked his thumbs to either side. "Kid Win, Gallant and Browbeat. Say hi to Skitter, kids."



Kid Win, seated beside Vista, had obviously taken some inspiration from Iron Man. Or maybe he took inspiration from Hero, who himself had been inspired by Iron Man. Either way, he was in a streamlined red-and-gold suit of power armor with several attachment ports scattered around the shoulders and arms, presumably so he could mount weaponry without having to hold it. His helmet's lenses glowed red and the lower half had receded into the upper section, exposing his mouth so he could eat. His skin was pale, lips thin and rather pink. "Nice to meet you," he said, and I thought I detected a twinge of fear in his voice. Then again, if the Wards knew about the final night of the war, they probably had a right to be a little nervous. Clockblocker and Vista remembered me as a gawky, frightened girl. These three new folks only knew me as the alien-looking girl who was instrumental in bringing down two powerful gangs.



Gallant was right next to Clockblocker. He too wore a suit of power armor, though it seemed more defensive in nature since it featured numerous armor plates and what looked like robotic arms to relocate pieces on the fly. I didn't remember hearing about Gallant being a tinker, so the rather intimidating silver-and-gunmetal armor had to be a gift from somebody else. His armor's mask was rather like mine, leaving the lower half of his face exposed. He had a chiseled jaw and I could presume the rest of his face was equally handsome, so it made sense he'd want to show off for the press. Gallant inclined his head with a gentle smile.



Browbeat, on the other side of Gallant, was a beast. The man (boy, rather. If he was a Ward he was under 18) had to be at least as tall as my father and broader than even Armsmaster. His form-fitting bodysuit showed off enormous rippling muscles, though the dark green color – somewhere between forest green and olive drab – kept the outlines from becoming too distracting. He wore a helmet with a heavy metal mask that depicted a scowling, bearded man. The visage was reminiscent of Zeus, or Old Testament heroes. "Hi there." Just from those two words, I was instantly torn between liking and hating him. He'd put on his best suave voice and leaned in, flexing up his muscles even further. That alone would have made me dislike him, but the awkward way he did it made me sympathize and wonder if that was his way of coping with his own powers. Perhaps he had been a skinny nerd before his trigger and had sprouted up and out like a mini-Manpower. I'd reserve judgment.



Regent tilted his mask up slightly and started chowing down on a grilled-cheese sandwich. I figured he'd be dead to the world for a little while.



"Where's Scanner? Still getting tested?"



"Something like that," Kid Win said between bites of salad. "Her family's filling out the forms for Ward membership now that she's been approved. We officially have a new probie, though this one just needs psych evals instead of a friggin' jail cell."



Gallant nodded at the blank space on the table where my plate should have been. "Don't you want to grab something to eat?"



I shook my head. "No thanks. Apparently I don't really need to eat."



"Wish I had that power," Vista commented. "I'm still tiny but I get so hungry. I keep worrying I'll grow up short, fat and dumpy."



"Wouldn't be so much growing up as growing out, then." Huh, I guess Regent still had time for snark.



I opted to change the subject before Regent could get in another argument. "So how've things been since the war? Sorry we've been mostly laying low, but we didn't want to catch flak while some of us were still criminals."



Kid Win shrugged. "Not too bad, honestly. Been having a few problems, but no major crisis situations."



"Anything we should know about, you think?"



"Well, since the Director told us you're trying to go legit..." Vista leaned in. "The Merchants have been losing ground fast, mostly out by the trainyards. "Unfortunately, since they're the Merchants, we can't just walk up and ask them who's kicking their asses."



"We can," Clockblocker interrupted, "but we just get a bunch of slurred swears for our trouble."



Vista continued as though she hadn't been interrupted. Apparently the Wards dealt with Clockblocker like we dealt with Imp and Regent. "We know Trainwreck lives out in one of the old freight-loading platforms, but he's never tried to take ground before. In fact, in the past he's worked with the Merchants and they seemed to have a good enough thing going, so we're wondering what's changed."



"Weird thing is," Gallant picked up the train of thought, "the territory that's getting taken? It's a ghost town. We patrol there and there's nobody."



"I might bring Atlas around to check it out," I murmured. I noticed all of the Wards looking at me in confusion. What the hell, why not? "Well, you want to do the whole 'hero introduction' thing and share our powers?"



"Only if Vista shouts, 'In the name of the Moon!'"



I just rolled my eyes while Regent snickered.



"You want us all to share so you're not giving up anything for free, thereby refusing to allow yourself to be perceived as weak," Gallant said in an even tone. "Smart." Was that what I was doing? "Alright, I'll go first. I'm a low-level Blaster and a Shaker/Master 1. The bolts I fire cause emotional responses in living targets, in addition to concussive damage. I always say Shaker/Master as one thing, since it's really a hybrid. I can't actually control somebody, but if you double somebody over in hysterical laughter or make them run away screaming, it's not much of a distinction. My biggest problem is my short range and the fact that the emotional effects don't last long. Oh, I'm also a Thinker 2 because I can sense emotions. Lets me see past some Stranger effects."



Browbeat spoke up next. "On the topic of hybrids, I'm a Striker and a Brute/Breaker 1. My strength and durability are enhanced slightly, and my body is constantly, but very slowly, getting bigger and tougher. My main thing is whatcha call 'tactile telekinesis'. Basically, I have super strength without having super strength."



"He can do the scientifically impossible shit from the old Superman movies, like picking up a statue by its finger without breaking it," Clockblocker clarified.



"Problem is, I'm subject to the Manton Effect: I can't directly use my power against other people, so I need to pick up heavy stuff and club them," Browbeat finished.



Kid Win was last. "And I'm a Tinker, though I haven't found my specialty yet. Mostly, I've found success with energy weapons and antigravity, but I haven't had any 'eureka' moments yet," he said with a sheepish smile.



I gave them a thankful smile. "Well, as you probably know, I can control bugs. But it's not just that: I can make bugs, some really big, and control them too. Atlas is the beetle-monster who helped take down Kaiser, Menja and Hookwolf. I parked him on the helipad but he scuttled off to find someplace to nap."



Vista made a little noise. "He won't hurt anybody, will he?"



I shook my head. "Not unless provoked. He doesn't like people with emotion powers, apparently – at least, he doesn't like Glory Girl – but he'll just posture at you to back off. Live and let live. He's a very calm bug." I smirked. "I take him for a walk every day."



Kid Win laughed. "Okay, that I wanna see!"



"Just don't ask to ride along. It's dizzying enough to make you yak," Regent groaned.



We all chuckled at that and started sharing funny stories about work, making sure to keep quiet anything that might compromise our identities. It was weird, but I felt for the first time like this was really a job, and I could have friends at the office.



I focused on enjoying this while I could. Next would come the media circus of the Undersiders' rebranding and then, when Arcadia reopened, school.

 

[Vherstinae]

Adaptation 3.07



"Hey, Taylor."



I didn't reply.



"Taylor..."



I made a noise and burrowed deeper under the covers. Face-down, body and sheets tucked in on myself, I looked like some sort of cloth-bundled package.



Lisa bopped on a poofier part of my coverings. "Oh Taaaayloooor..."



"Go 'way. I'm impersonating a caterpillar."



Lisa promptly ripped the covers off me and I yelped in surprise. I'd had nervous sweats the previous night so I'd just slept in my underwear. By covering myself, I left my legs vulnerable and Lisa started hauling me out of bed by the ankle. "You..." She grunted with effort. "You can't hide out up here! This was partly your idea!"



"Well I'm partly vetoing it," I whined as I tried to squirm back to the safety of my covers.



"Dammit, Skitter," Lisa growled, "we need you with us! You're the one who convinced us we could be heroes in the first place. You can't just leave us in the lurch when we're about to publicly turn over a new leaf!"



Guilt, my kryptonite. Damn it all. I let out a defeated groan. "I hate when you use your power against me," I muttered as I stopped resisting. I didn't actively help, though.



"I didn't," she replied with a smug grin. "I just know you that well." She shot me a wink. "Now get in costume. We're due at PRT Headquarters at noon."



After she'd been gone for several seconds, I groaned again and dragged myself out of bed. As I trudged to the closet, Lisa popped her head in again, causing me to yelp.



"Was hoping for a free show," she laughed before departing for real.



I couldn't help chuckling. She knew exactly how to push my buttons, to get me embarrassed and energized yet not utterly humiliate me. I didn't know whether to love or hate her. Oh well. I threw on my athletic wear before donning my costume. As I flexed my fingers, claws slipping through the slits, I grinned. I felt like Skitter, now. My costume helped me to become myself, in a way; or at least another part of myself. I felt powerful and predatory, and I saw no reason to be afraid. I slipped my mask on and checked myself over in the mirror. Satisfied, I exited my room and headed for the central staircase of my enormous new house.



Well, I suppose "enormous" has different connotations to different people. It wasn't a mansion, but it was beautiful. Three stories plus a spacious basement which had access for my critters so the garage was free for the car. The first floor was the living area, dominated by a massive den ready for tables, couches, a humongous TV and anything else we could dream up. There was also a fair-sized dining room and a big kitchen, with enough space for several people to work at once. Or, rather, for my dad and I to work at once without our gangly limbs smacking into one another.



The second floor had the laundry room, offices each for my dad and Lisa (who insisted the office would be mine once she moved out), and guest rooms for the rest of the Undersiders. The third floor had a master suite, another large bedroom with non-adjacent bath, and a large but oddly-shaped bonus room. Dad had insisted I take the master suite, since I might need the extra space in the future.



For the moment, the house had very little in the way of furniture. Our old, comparatively tiny house had been stuffed to the gills with furnishings and mementos, yet they would barely fill a couple of the numerous rooms here. Of course, besides getting beds and other such things for the rest of the group, we were in no hurry to change that.



Aisha had spent most of her time gushing over the pool and hot tub out back. While it was currently too cold to make effective use of the pool, Lisa was already ribbing me from day one about buying a bikini for the hot tub. Rachel took the opportunity to do some shopping and pick up more stuffed animals, which were especially important for helping her sleep now that her dogs could bed down in a proper kennel at the new headquarters. Alec, of course, immediately got himself a new game system and started working on restoring his old records, while Brian had stocked his room with a yoga mat and other light exercise equipment. He kept the heavy stuff at headquarters.



I felt my confidence rise with every step, my costume fitting me like a second skin. They were right: dad, Brian, Lisa, Rachel...even Alec and Aisha, when they could be bothered to pause the snark. I was strong, and I could do this. I stalked into the living room and was met with the rest of the Undersiders in full costume, wolfing down breakfast. I decided to have a little something as well, just for the normalcy of it and in the hopes of keeping my blood sugar up. I grabbed a box of generic Rice Krispies and poured myself a bowl, plopping down between Rachel and Alec.



"So Lisa finally got you up," Brian noted with a grin.



"Yeah, you should've come with me, Brian. She was in her underwear. Cute faux-silk numbers." Lisa's smile was practically toxic as she shot me a wink and watched me blush all the way to my collarbone.



Dad walked past and bopped the blonde on the head. "I'll thank you not to turn my daughter into an exploitation movie, Lise."



Alec laughed as Lisa rubbed her head. "Usually I'm on the receiving end of that!" I bopped him on the head. "Hey! What was that for!?"



I shrugged. "You probably did something to deserve it."



Alec thought for a moment, then shrugged in agreement. We all couldn't help laughing at that.



My embarrassment successfully defused, I joined the others in devouring the morning meal before we finished getting dressed. I shifted my mandibles into place, the others donned their masks (including Lisa, who insisted on wearing a domino mask underneath, "just in case"), and then Brian and Lisa slipped on their helmets.



Aisha had taken to wearing a leather jacket and skirt for extra protection, with additional knifes hidden inside both articles of clothing. Brian's visor was now reinforced with safety glass to prevent any accidents. Lisa had finally obtained a helmet of her own, which had a distinctly Power Rangers vibe. The helmet itself was the violet of her costume, with a horizontal black strip serving as the visor. Several slits were present in front of the mouth, black as well with a mesh filter helping to keep out debris. Her Egyptian eye symbol was painted on the forehead.



Foresight nodded to the rest of us. "Okay, let's get going."



(BREAK)



Now that we were able to safely access Cerberus' shelters, she'd taken to alternating dogs to further train them and let the others get some rest. Currently, she had a good combination of strength, speed and agility. Bentley was an adorable, rotund bulldog with derpy eyes and a perpetual dopey smile. He loved to give cuddles and kisses. When enlarged, he was a living tank with a maw as wide as his shoulders that could open to engulf a creature larger than himself. Those jaws could likely bite through Lung, and his thick body made him incredibly resilient as well. Cassie was a rehabilitated greyhound, rescued from the dog-racing tracks. The poor thing was still shy around people but fiercely loyal to Rachel, who'd helped to heal her damaged legs. Her monstrous form was just as streamlined, able to move at unbelievable speeds. Flat-out, Cassie could outrun most performance cars. Twinkles was a standard poodle, a durable and versatile breed and easily the most laid-back of Rachel's dogs. When transformed, she could leap onto rooftops in a single bound and was fantastic for multi-front fights.



Cerberus took the lead on Bentley, with Grue and Imp on Twinkles and Regent riding Cassie along with Foresight. We tore down the street and arrived at 11, giving us enough time to get set up. Deputy Director Rennick was there in his capacity as PR liaison, giving us the rundown on how to present ourselves in the best light.



Rennick stepped up to me, his soft smile comforting. "Skitter, are you ready for this?"



I gave a mirthless chuckle. "No, but I'm here anyway."



"Just remember: you don't need to ingratiate yourself or suck up. People are already grateful to the Undersiders for your help in the war. Just be open, and don't worry about being awkward. Even if you come off like a total goof, it'll humanize you to the public and the villains won't care how you act since you can kick all their asses." He shot me a wink. "You're a good kid. You'll do fine."



That little bit of ordinary, banal, 'trying to connect with them young'uns' advice helped to ground me in reality and I shot him a thankful smile.



"It's time," one of the PRT troopers said as they opened the doors for us. A long podium with six microphones waited for us. We stepped up and I let Grue and Foresight take the center, flanked by Imp and Regent. Cerberus and I stood on either edge, our enormous beasts looming beside us. I gulped as I looked out at the crowd of reporters.



In addition to the usual questionably well-dressed journalist types, there were plenty of less put-together people just recording with their smartphones or digital recorders. Amateur reporters or cape-chasers; either way, they could – purposely or accidentally – add an entirely new spin on stories. Heroes caught muttering racial slurs, villains spotted breaking the rules; the balance of power could shift overnight thanks to a phone and a distinct lack of self-preservation.



Grue cleared his throat. "Thank you all for coming out today. This is a very important occasion for us. I'm sure that most of you recognize us as the Undersiders, a relatively low-level villain group whose highest-profile crime was robbing the Clams Casino back in December." He paused to let that sink in. "Fewer of you, perhaps, know us as the guardians of the docks and the surrounding neighborhoods during the Brockton Bay gang war. We held off both the ABB and Empire Eighty-Eight for several weeks, shutting down any attempted incursion into our territory. Furthermore, we were right there alongside the Protectorate in the final fight of the war. Skitter in particular," he gestured at me, "was instrumental in the defeat and capture of Lung, Menja, Oni Lee and Hookwolf." Grue paused yet again. "And now, we are taking the first steps into the next stage of our lives. We, the Undersiders, are officially a hero team. We will be operating as independents, much in the same way as New Wave, but we want to maintain a friendly work relationship with the PRT."



Immediately the crowd erupted with questions. As before, Grue muted them with his darkness. "Please, let's not have this become a media circus. One question at a time." He nodded to Foresight, who pointed into the crowd.



"You there, in the brown sport jacket," she indicated.



"Thank you. Stan Vickery, channel 12 news. If I may ask a question to you all, what prompted this change? It's not often that villains decide to be heroes."



I made a noise before I could even put together a thought, and all attention turned to me. I gripped Atlas' mind in a psychic bear-hug, desperately needing that stability. "I can't speak for all villains, but we – the Undersiders – were all essentially forced into villainy through unpleasant circumstances. When your trigger event kills someone and you don't understand how to defend yourself in court, your only way to remain free is to turn criminal. When the system fails you, you turn to other avenues for safety." I took a breath, steadying myself. Yeah, I could do this. "The war was an opportunity for us to act on our morals, rather than having to be villains because we'd been labeled villains. We wanted to help people, to keep innocents safe and stop the war from claiming more lives. We stepped up and fought for our city. And from that, we were finally able to jump through the legal hoops necessary to let us be the people we are."



"And why did you have to be independent? Surely, with the goodwill of the city behind you, you could have joined the Protectorate."



Foresight regarded Stan, studying him as she spoke. "An entire city, the lives of nearly a million people, hung in the balance and yet the national Protectorate did nothing. They were hamstrung by laws and regulations, and even the local branch's director risked termination for taking the action needed to save lives." She held up her hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not indicting the Protectorate; don't mistake me. An organization that massive and powerful needs regulations to keep some tyrant from seizing power and overthrowing the government. But, at the same time, laws that restrict the upper echelons can be utterly crippling at the individual level. We are independent because the Protectorate needs us independent. We can do what they can't, and so we cooperate to make the city a safer place." She tilted her head and her playful smile was apparent even with her face concealed. "We're not here to replace them. We're here to shore up the foundation."



Goddamn, Lisa. You managed to twist the knife in the Protectorate and yet uplift the local branch at the same time. I took a moment to appreciate the level of talent that required.



Lisa pointed at someone else, a cape-chaser with a smartphone. She was a squat, moon-faced girl whose head was framed by a mop of blonde curls. "Blondie, you next."



"Um, yes, what's with the costume changes?"



"We felt that our rebranding was a good time to adjust and improve on our old outfits," Grue replied. "We've also had a couple of name changes. I was going to wait until the end to announce it, but now works just as well."



Foresight spoke up again. "My name is now Foresight, and she's Cerberus." She pointed to another reporter.



"Kellie Marten, channel 6. Grue, how did you become the Undersiders' leader?"



The big man shrugged. "It was an organic development. We didn't have a vote or anything. I was best at resolving conflict and keeping my cool, so I ended up as the leader. It's not a monarchy or anything, though, so I'm always open to advice from my teammates. In fact, it was Skitter who formulated much of our battle plans during the war."



A cape-chaser spoke up next, a painfully Irish boy whose head had more freckle than face. "Skitter, there's a rumor that you beat Lung on your first night as a cape. Is that true?"



Bizarrely, it was Cerberus who spoke up for me. "That's true. She was afraid of the reputation it'd get her, so she let Armsmaster take the credit. That's actually when we first met; we were coming to fight Lung too, but Skitter took him down before we could get there."



"Regent!"



I looked over to see who'd shouted that. The man was nothing special, in a button-up shirt and khakis and holding a voice recorder, but there was an odd intensity in his eyes. I sidled a bit closer to the brunet.



"Isn't it true that, before you came to Brockton Bay, you were known as Hijack, a notorious criminal and murderer who worked with Heartbreaker himself!?"



I was going to remind Regent that he didn't have to respond, but he spoke up before I could. "Okay, first off, that question is way the hell out of line. Second, I was a little kid, a pre-teen, who was tortured until I cooperated with Heartbreaker. I've since been cleared of all charges." He stared the man down, his mask's vacant eyes boring into the accuser's pale amber ones. "I feel nothing but regret for what happened when I was younger, but I was a helpless child. Heartbreaker was immune to my powers so I couldn't even fight my way free. I can never bring back the people who died, but maybe I can prevent future deaths and somehow clear my karmic debt."



Again, I could feel the pain and the strength Regent normally kept hidden under his sarcasm and slapstick. For as overwhelmingly annoying as he could be, I had to respect him in a way.



"You want to blame me for the deaths I caused? That's fine; I do too. But a person is not defined solely by his crimes. Heartbreaker indulges in his evil and cruelty. He's irredeemable. I hope that I'm not that far gone."



The entire conference had gone silent. You could hear a press badge drop.



Stan cleared his throat. "Well, to change the topic, what exactly is that thing?" He pointed at Atlas.



While I was thankful for the new subject, I really, really didn't want to reveal that I could create living things. Well, I could try to bullshit and half-truth my way around it. "I call him Atlas. He's a giant mutant beetle, apparently some sort of bio-tinker construct. I found him in the sewers and called him up to help fight Kaiser. Seems he likes me, since he followed me home." I patted his side. "He's a very nice bug, so I kept him."



Stan blanched. "That was in the sewers? Are there others?"



I shook my head. "I don't feel any others. If the others are also bugs, I should be able to sense and control them. For now, looks like Atlas is the only one of his kind."



"Well," the reporter said as he recovered his composure, "at least we have a hero who can keep any more of them from causing trouble." He took a breath. "On that topic, what are your powers, anyway? That's to all of you."



"I make super-dogs," Cerberus grunted. She didn't opt to elaborate.



"Since people now know I used to be Hijack," Regent said the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth, "you know I can control people's limbs. And the villains should hopefully understand they shouldn't mess with us."



Grue formed some of his darkness in his hand. "I create supernatural darkness and can spread it with a large range." He briefly washed the entire parking lot in inky black.



Since everybody else was being very minimalistic with their descriptions, I followed the trend. "I control bugs." I had Atlas wave at the crowd with a leg.



"And I'm psychic," Foresight stated simply.



After several long seconds, the reporter realized they weren't getting anything more. The moon-faced girl was the first to speak up. "Wait, that's it? 'I'm psychic'? That's bull! The closest thing to psychic is the Simurgh and I don't see any wings!"



Foresight tilted her head. "Your favorite food is strawberry parfait and you have an irrational fear of toes."



The curly-haired blonde promptly shut up.



Grue spoke up again. "I think that's enough questions for today. I'll conclude with this: we're here to keep the innocent people of this city safe, but criminals shouldn't expect to get a fair fight. We are ex-villains and we know the value of ambushes and overkill. You try to screw with us, go after one of our own like what happened to Fleur, and we will bury you."



With that, Grue threw up a storm of darkness. We were halfway down the street by the time it dissipated and the reporters figured out which way was up.



I was honestly nervous about the conclusion. I understood that we didn't have the political or financial backing of other hero groups, and that we were indeed going to be darker, edgier and more dangerous, but I was worried we'd alienate the people and lose public support. At the same time, it was extremely important to remind the villains that we knew our way around crime and would destroy anyone who broke the rules. I tried to press deeper into Atlas' carapace. I couldn't help the feeling of dread that bubbled up from within me.

 

[Vherstinae]

Interlude 3.y



Welcome to the Parahumans Online Message Boards.

You are currently logged in, XxVoid_CowboyxX



+Topic: Undersiders!

In: Boards > News > Heroes > America

FeeshyFeeshy (Original Poster)

Posted on March 17, 2011:



I hadn't expected this. They look awesome! The speeches, the attitudes... Villains better watch out! What do you guys think? Any capes available to comment?



EDIT: Tin_Mother reminded me I need to contribute something to the discussion, so I'll just ramble a little. How come nobody addressed the littlest one? Imp, I think her name is. Also, Foresight used to be Tattletale, right? She's pretty cute! Wonder why the helmet now? And what about Skitter? She's hot but kinda creepy, and that bug gives me weird vibes.



(Showing page 22 of 40)



> Jazzhands (PRT Wife)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



@Rubber: Hubby says Skitter's a sweetheart in person, but from chatting with MM it's a good idea to NEVER piss her off. Girl can take down Lung by herself, after all. Nobody knows what power she has that's changing her like that. Could be a Case 53, but doesn't fit the profile. My guess is some sort of Crawler-style healing schtick.



> Spockzbrain

Replied on March 17, 2011:



If Cerberus lost some weight she could be sexy. Who do you think is hotter, Skitter or Foresight?



> Nuclearpickles (Veteran Member)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



@Spockz: Dude, Tin_Mother is gonna come down on you so hard. You know she doesn't like those topics.



...But totally Skitter. I like fit girls.



> Tin_Mother (Moderator)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



A lot of capes and cape fans are hormonal teenagers. Discussing who you find attractive isn't a ban-worthy offense. Just keep away from anything explicit or overtly sexual and you should be fine.



> Nuclearpickles (Veteran Member)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



Holy crap, TM replied to something I wrote! And so, in the interest of equality, who do you think is hotter, Grue or Regent?



> Vista (Verified Cape)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



Got to have lunch with Skitter and Regent a few days ago. Skitter's just as sweet as everybody else says. Wish she'd joined the Wards so we could hang out more. Regent...ugh, he's another Clockblocker. Didn't know he used to be Hijack, though. He struck me as a nice enough guy.



EDIT: @pickles: Grue, definitely. I like big guys and I don't know him like a sibling like I do Browbeat and Aegis.



> General_Kwaang!

Replied on March 17, 2011:



@Rubber: I know, it makes me nervous too. Only bio-tinkers I can think of off the top of my head are Blasto and Bonesaw. Panacea might count but she can't do shit like that. Whoever made Skitter's bug could be a huge threat. Then again, nobody seems worried about that, so I'm guessing they know something we don't. Jazzhands, you heard anything?



@Spockz: I prefer Foresight. I've always been partial to blondes and she has an awesome figure.



> Schweddyballz (Veteran Member)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



Anybody else think the Undersiders will totally gank any villains they come across? They have crazy-good synergy: Foresight points out the enemy's position. Grue's darkness and Skitter's bugs shroud the baddies and harass them. Cerberus' dogs and that huge fucking beetle trample everybody. Then Regent and Imp pick off the stragglers.



Gotta admit, I'm still worried this is some sort of long con. But if not, I think these guys have the chance to really clean up the city.



> Foresight (Verified Cape) (Yes, I'm Psychic)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



Let's see here...



@Rubberbabybuggybumpers: You're smart. Got lots of ideas bouncing around in your head. You should see if you can intern with the PRT; they could use people spitting out theories like yours. And no, I'm not bullshitting you.



@Spockzbrain: Skitter, definitely.



@Schweddyballz: Good strategy, but we've already been doing that. Gotta mix things up to keep the baddies on their toes.



> FeeshyFeeshy (Original Poster)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



Holy shit! Everybody put your pants on! Foresight's here!



(BREAK)



+Topic: "The system failed us"

In: Boards > Teams > Protectorate

Chaturagh (Original Poster) (Verified Cape)

Posted on March 17, 2011:



I was watching the Undersiders' news story and noticed that phrase (and variations) used a lot. References to the Protectorate not doing their job. Now, being a rogue myself, I don't have to worry about their rules. But I do worry for my non-powered friends. I can't always be around to protect them.



Why didn't the Protectorate step in to help protect Brockton Bay? Why is a town in Bumfuck Nigeria worth sending the world's heroes to counter an Endbringer appearance, yet nearly a million people don't warrant a batted eye? Were they just going to wall up the Bay like they did with Nilbog?



(Showing page 3 of 3)



> whitecollar (Cape Wife)

Replied on March 17, 2011:



Chaturagh, this is the first I've heard of the Protectorate doing nothing. Hubby and I knew about a media blackout during the war, but we figured it was because of Nazi broadcasts and all sorts of dangerous politicking. If what the Undersiders said is true, we're both very, very worried.



> XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied on March 18, 2011:



I was pretty much at ground zero during the war and things were tense as hell. My aunt and uncle almost got killed by ABB. That said, I know the Protectorate's done some dumb stuff in the past, but I don't think they'd leave a whole city to die.



> Jazzhands (PRT Wife)

Replied on March 18, 2011:



@Cowboy: Some of it's apparently classified, but from what my husband and I can gather, yes, they would. We were denied all parahuman and PRT assistance and had to reach out to the National Guard in order to get basic supplies to the civilians. Something's very wrong.



> Miss_Militia (Verified Cape) (Brockton Bay Protectorate)

Replied on March 18, 2011:



Can we please stop the speculations, at least for now? There's a reason police don't like information being released during an active investigation.



(Thread is now closed)



(BREAK)



+Topic: Arcadia Reopening

In: Boards > Places > America > Brockton Bay

Mark_Chang (Original Poster) (Moderator: Verified Yugopotamian)

Posted on March 18, 2011



With school reopening in BB, that means the Wards will be back at classes. But, more importantly, it means that the Undersiders (or some of them) might be attending now that they're not wanted criminals anymore.



In addition to being a speculation thread about which classes a particular Ward or Undersider might prefer, this is also a reminder not to out a cape. If you think you have a parahuman's identity figured out, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. It's a major breach of conduct to out a cape, and anything that happens to them or their loved ones will be on your head.



My own guesses with regards to the Undersiders:



I'm betting Cerberus likes math. Gruff people usually don't like the nuances of English and the variable answers. One right answer is preferable. Regent's theme almost makes me feel like I'm gonna be wrong, but I'll be the one to take the obvious guess and say he'll gravitate toward acting and drama electives. Grue...I think gym and home ec. Guys that comfortable in leathers are usually secure enough to do more "sissy" stuff. Foresight would probably just coast with her BS power, but maybe English could challenge her. Having to give her own interpretation of books might be something she'd have to work at.



Since Imp and Skitter weren't really with the team before they went hero, I don't have enough info to make guesses for them. Thoughts?



(Showing page 16 of 17)



> Silly_Rabbi

Replied on March 18, 2011:



Maybe gymnastics for Skitter. You don't get a body like hers without a lot of exercise in skintight leotards. Mm-mm.



> BEEEEES!

Replied on March 18, 2011:



@xeno: being that im 12, i can look at imp and say "damn what a fine-ass looking woman!" without being creepy. seriously shes younger than foresight and just about as built. gonna grow up into a goddess.



> Son_Of_Shuma (Veteran Member)

Replied on March 19, 2011:



That hair, those eyes? Skitter's like a goth kid's wet dream. I'd drop to one knee and beg her to go out with me.



Edit: To keep on-topic, I think Imp would like math or some other subject where you don't draw much attention. She seems really shy.



> XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied on March 19, 2011:



User received an infraction for this post and content was deleted. What part of "Don't start discussing possible secret identities" did you not understand?



(BREAK)



Greg logged out in disgust. Why did it seem like life was intentionally shitting on him? First he tried to get Taylor to go out with him and she turned him down, then his aunt and uncle lost their shop to the ABB, and now nobody on PHO would take him seriously. He was too irritated to even check his private messages. GstringGirl would just have to wait.



Greg stood up and started to pace, venting in his own mind. An infraction, just for mentioning who Skitter looked like? How would anybody know who Taylor Hebert was?



He froze in the middle of his mental ranting. Wait, what if...



Greg rushed back to the computer and opened up to the news, looking at the photos of the gathered Undersiders. Skitter was tall, probably almost six feet, and pale. While the hair was new, most of her face was hidden, and her muscles were far more prominent... "Holy fuck." No wonder he got an infraction! Skitter was Taylor Hebert!



His first instinct was to try messaging her, but he didn't even know if she had an account. Instead, he decided he'd go over to her house tomorrow. He didn't know exactly what he'd say, but he'd think of something.

 

[Vherstinae]

A/N: Warning: This gets dark.



Insinuation 4.01



I spared a glance at the calendar on my wall, March 28th circled and marked in my dad's handwriting: Arcadia. Three days until high school resumed. In some ways it would be a fresh start; in others, it would be a dangerous return to rote.



"Skitter? Focus, please."



I looked back to the computer, where Miss Militia was resting her chin on her fist. "Sorry, Militia," I said sheepishly, blushing beneath my mask. "I'm just really tense."



"That's completely understandable. But please, pay attention. I only have so much free time and I'd rather not have it wasted." I winced at that subtle admonishment. "Where were we? Oh, right. You're in Homeroom 4, along with the Dallon sisters. We put Cerberus in Homeroom 6, which has the same lunch schedule, since she'll need support from her friends. Regent is in Homeroom 1; as a junior, his schedule doesn't sync well with yours." Her eyes crinkled in a soft smile. "Honestly, I think you'll be just fine. Did you manage to download the books?"



I nodded. "Thank you for setting me up with a Wards policy. The discount really helped, and I got audiobooks for Cerberus."



Miss Militia's smile widened. "That's wonderful. And it was Deputy Rennick who got you set up. I may be Protectorate liaison to the Wards, but I don't have authority over PRT resources."



"Well, please pass along my thanks, and thank you for taking the time to chat with me. I always enjoy our talks," I said honestly.



"So do I. I'd like to–" She was cut off when Lisa hollered my name, the blonde's tone rather urgent. "...You should probably attend to that. I'll talk to you later." The brunette logged out of video chat.



"One second," I called down the hall as I changed out of my costume. While Miss Militia knew my civilian identity, she was drilling it into me that it was good policy to always be in costume for cape business. I shut the costume away in my closet's false back panel and threw on some shorts and a V-neck shirt, still just barely fitting my hair through the collar. "Okay, I'm coming!"



I jackhammer-bounced down the stairs like Bluto from Animal House. I sent some bugs ahead to see what was up, and found Lisa standing tensely in the front room. Opposite her was a tall, gangly, knobby-limbed boy with a mop of beige curls atop his head. The visitor was someone I recognized instantly even through my insects' meager understanding of human appearances. I paused on the stairs. What was Greg fucking Veder doing at my house?



At first I thought Lisa must have made a mistake in letting him in, but then I remembered who I was thinking of: Lisa wasn't careless enough for that. Greg must have said or done something that led to her bringing him inside and shutting the door. I clenched my fists and took a deep, calming breath. Just to be safe, I reached out to Atlas and kept him on standby to draw away stress. Moving much more slowly, I descended the last flight of stairs to stand beside Lisa.



"H-hi, Taylor," Greg smiled. Nervous but excitable, just as I remembered him.



I didn't return the smile. "Greg, what are you doing here?"



"He told me he knew your secret, at which point I yanked him in," Lisa explained.



"The secret that I'm Skitter?" I scoffed and tossed a lock of my mutant hair. "Yeah, big secret. I just didn't want people knowing until I had a proper headquarters and the Undersiders got their pardons. The question I have is, how the hell did you find me? I never gave anybody at Winslow my new address."



Greg shrugged. "When I saw you weren't at your old place, I looked up recent purchases on Zillow and found this place in your dad's name." Shit, that was actually kind of clever. Now I was more thankful than ever that Atlas was in the basement, in case villains tried the same trick.



"And you thought it was a good idea to walk up to a cape's house and blab that you know her identity?" Lisa folded her arms and glowered down at him as best she could, considering he had a few inches on her.



"I was hoping I could be your backup." His chipper attitude hadn't been dampened in the slightest. "New Wave has their law firm, the Protectorate has the PRT; the Undersiders need non-capes to help 'em out, right?"



My luminous eyes narrowed. "Veder, you do realize I'm a former villain, right? A former villain you're essentially outing? What's to stop me from just gutting you and dumping your body in my basement? I'm sure Atlas could use the snack."



Apparently Greg didn't think I was serious, because he just smirked. "C'mon, Taylor, you wouldn't do that to an old friend, would you?"



Oh, how I wished the world had a pause button. I would have loved to have a few extra hours to process that. Old friend? Greg thought we were old friends? Why, because he pseudo-stalked me throughout high school and asked me out one time?



Lisa stepped in front of me just as my mouth started working on its own. "Old friend? What the fuck have you ever done to be my friend, Greg? You hid whenever I tried to bring up my bullying. You never once stood up for me. You asked me out just after I'd gotten done crying my eyes out!" I felt my ribcage bump Lisa's shoulder and realized I'd been stalking forward.



The curly-haired boy blinked, his confusion seeming genuine. "If I'd spoken up, they'd have just ganged up on me too. It's not like it'd make a difference–"



"It would have made a difference to me!" My voice had cracked but I didn't care. "Maybe if I'd known I wasn't alone, that even one person was there to defend me, maybe I would've had the courage to fight back sooner! Maybe I wouldn't have become this!" I extended the claws on my right hand.



"But you look badass! And you're powerful enough to take down Lung!"



Good god, he really didn't get it. I was equal parts insulted and pitying. A cape geek like him not realizing the damage trigger events did? Or did he just not care, since he hadn't been the one to suffer? I pushed forward again and Lisa turned and looked at me, her green eyes locking on my orange spheres. We were practically having a conversation just through our gaze.



I can't let you go off the handle.



I won't.



You're upset.



I can control myself. I need to vent.



I'm with you.



I stalked around Lisa and grabbed two handfuls of Greg's shirt, slamming him up against the door. "Do you understand," I hissed through clenched teeth, "what a trigger event is? How it occurs?" A deep, inhuman growl tore free from my throat when I saw him nod. "And you think that's a good thing? That I suffered a psychotic break? That I was in a coma? That I look in the mirror every day and see a monster!?" I jerked him back and then plastered him against the door once again.



"But you're not a monster! You're beautiful! I've always thought so!"



Sweet crispy Jesus, he actually had feelings for me? "Alright, forgetting everything else you didn't do, you couldn't even be fucking bothered to send me a 'Get Well Soon' card after I got out of the hospital!?" I didn't give him a chance to respond, a nightmarish scream of rage erupting from me.



In an instant Lisa was between the two of us, pushing me back. While I doubted she could really move me, I didn't want her getting hurt in the crossfire so I relented.



"Fuck me, Taylor, get ahold of yourself! I know this is dredging up a lot of the demons from your past, but calm your tits!" Lisa's face was less than an inch from mine. Two sets of instincts – human and insect – warred within me. In the end, the human side won out and I took another step back.



The blonde turned back to Greg, whose face was now a mask of confusion and fear. Perhaps he'd finally realized what a literal and metaphorical hornet's nest he'd stirred up. "Now, seriously, what the hell were you thinking? You'd just walk up, say, 'Hey there, Taylor! It's me, the creeper you barely know! I know your secret so let's be friends'?"



The boy opened his mouth to retort but Lisa steamrolled him, dipping into her power. "How can you think of yourself as her friend? You did nothing to support or protect her, yet you think yourself entitled to her affection? She should go out with you because you're both outcasts? You claim to care about her yet can't make the smallest effort or sacrifice on your part!" She paused, letting her words sink in, then softened her tone. "Greg, you're self-centered in the extreme. That's not an insult, but a statement. You don't expend any thought or care on other people yet expect them to do for you what you won't for them. I suggest you go home, take a long look in the mirror, and think about what you're doing – or not doing – that makes people react so negatively to you."



She opened the door for him. "Taylor thinks your a bad person, but I don't. I think you're just a stupid kid who needs to grow up. If you can figure out where you're going wrong and are willing to make a change, I think you'll be a decent guy. But no, you'll never have a chance with Taylor."



Greg turned back to her, looking over her shoulder at me, and opened his mouth.



Lisa dug her nails into his shoulder hard enough to make him yelp. "You've burned that bridge. Fuck, you nuked it. Just leave it and try to make your own life. And no, you don't need to worry about Taylor. She'll be outing herself soon enough, and she has the Undersiders, her dad, and me to keep her safe." She gave him a shove out and locked the door behind him.



I dropped to my knees and started to cry.



Lisa make a textbook rockstar knee-slide to end up beside me, hugging me close. "Shh, it's alright. It's okay. I know." She petted my hair.



"I wanted to h-hurt him," I whimpered. "If you hadn't been there...what's wrong with me?"



"No, Taylor, you're not a monster," Lisa whispered, nipping that particular train of thought in the bud. "You're a traumatized girl who's still recovering from three nightmarish years." She kissed my temple. "You were confronted by someone who didn't know or care about your pain but claimed to understand you. Anybody would be insulted, but add lingering psychological scars on top of that and you've got a recipe for even the most peaceful person to become violent." She looped my arm over her shoulders. "C'mon, let's – mrf – let's get you over to the couch. You can just rest for a while."



"I'm fucking pathetic," I chuckled at myself.



"Not at all. Fighting villains, murderers and giant monsters? That's easy. Living life is hard." Lisa got me seated on the sofa. "You're strong, Taylor. You're a good person. And you're pretty cute to top it off." She winked at me. "I'll get some tea brewing. Feel free to lay down if you need it. You need a blanket?" I didn't reply but it seemed she figured out the answer anyway. "I'll get you a blanket too."



I let myself slump. For the first time, I found myself wishing that things weren't going so well. Brian and Aisha were house-hunting, Rachel was making the rounds with her shelters and she'd conscripted Alec to help her with the paperwork, and dad was overseeing a citywide water-pipe overhaul.



I wanted them all here, to hold me and make me feel safe. I even wanted Emma.



I wanted mom.



(BREAK)



I was lethargic well into the night, utterly exhausted from the surge of emotion and old pains. I went to bed early and dad tucked me in. I ended up crying myself to sleep. Self-pity and self-disgust warred for control of my dreams as all my old repressed fears came out to play.



Alexandria leading a hunt for my head.



The Slaughterhouse 9 coming to recruit me.



Coil taking my father hostage to use me as a tool.



Sophia looming over me, that familiar hateful sneer playing across her face as she smothered me. Wait, this isn't a dream... I clawed at her arm, but whatever drug she was forcing me to inhale had already worked too well and my fingers were too numb to find purchase. My vision blurred and I knew no more.



(BREAK)



Cold.



So fucking cold.



I tried to huddle in on myself and discovered that I was bound by chains. I whimpered and shivered, which brought about the next horrific realization: I was naked.



Panic forced my eyes to focus, melting through the drug-induced haze. I was in a concrete-floored basement, chained to a metal chair. With the toppled shelves and various bits scattered around, I presumed this was the basement to a store that had been vacated in the war and wasn't yet cleared for business again.



Okay, Taylor. Rein it in. Don't panic. What would Lisa do? I took in a deep breath, reaching out for Atlas. I could feel him, at the very edge of my consciousness. I couldn't quite control him; apparently he was out of my range, but I could still siphon my stress into him. I wasn't sure at all if it would work, but I tried to send a mental command: Come.



I twisted my wrists, feeling the chains around them. They were secured around my wrists, bound so tightly that pain was beginning to register as my conscious mind continued to return to me. My ankles were likewise secured, the chains padlocked to the chair and one another, a psychopath's version of the hog-tie.



I couldn't see any door or stairs, which meant the exit must be behind me. Try to turn around, but don't make noise. Easier thought than done: the chair didn't have rubber feet, so the metal tubes made a horrendous scraping noise against the concrete. I stopped almost immediately.



My power was coming back. Now it wasn't just Atlas I could sense. Bugs everywhere, I tried to draw them to my position. No good, at least not yet. The entire building had been doused in some sort of highly potent insecticide, so crawlers were right out. Additional scent packs and smokers were set upstairs to disorient or kill my fliers. Shit, this was very well-planned.



I heard a door open behind me, stairs creaking. Two sets of creaking stairs. Two people.



"Your lazy ass is finally awake, huh?" Sophia. "I was starting to think you might disappoint me and not wake up."



"Of course it's you, Hess," I sneered. "You'd need to tie me up beforehand, make sure I can't fight back. Pussy." Outside, I changed my plan of action. I sent the bugs out as far as I could. Swarms of flies, illuminated by fireflies, hovered above the building and in the general area: 911, above an arrow pointing to the store. Ants and other crawlers, similarly, set up signs on streets, sidewalks, walls, and inside any building I could get them into.



My world blurred, pain the only constant. Sophia had struck me with something heavy and metallic. A pipe, maybe, or a wrench.



"What's the plan, Hebert? Make me cry until I let you go?" She brought the monkey wrench down on my knee and only my subdermal reinforcements kept the joint from breaking outright, though I did cry out in pain. "You need to understand your place, Taylor. No matter how much power you might have, you're still fucking prey." She flicked open a switchblade.



The second person grabbed me by the hair, yanking back as hard as they could. I thought the tendrils were going to rip from my head, but they didn't. Instead, the person – now I could see she was a large, stocky and ugly girl – held my head in place.



Sophia loomed over me. "Let's start by reminding you of what you are for the rest of your life." She lowered the blade toward me.



I screamed as the metal pierced my flesh, carving into my forehead. She was cutting letters into my head. I thrashed my body as best I could, tried to turn my head away, but the other girl was strong and had leverage. Blood ran down my head and into my eyes.



I gasped for air. I had to get talking again, had to stall her until help could arrive. "You're a joke," I wheezed. "Y'see, I learned some more about trigger events and powers. And yours, Sophia, is all about running away. You talk tough, say you're a predator, but you're just a fucking cowa–"



The wrench crashed into my jaw and my head snapped to the side. My neck screeched with pain while my jaw refused to work right. As I tried to talk through a bitten tongue and cottonmouth, I realized my mandible was dislocated. Maybe even broken.



I forced myself to laugh through the pain. "You can't take the truth," I taunted her, though my words were horribly slurred. "Does your friend here know what a pussy you are? How you run away from any fight you can't rig?"



Sophia grabbed me by the neck, her eyes burning with hate. She drove the knife into my gut, all the way to the hilt. And then again. "Laugh all you want, Hebert. You're going to die here, crying in your own blood." Her voice was cold and sharp as the steel of the knife.



"Soph," the other girl said in a voice far more high-pitched than I would have expected, "can we just kill her? I don't know how long the anti-bug stuff will last and I'd rather not get swarmed with spiders."



"Not yet!" Sophia's voice was as close to a roar as the standard human larynx could get. "This little cunt needs to know her place before she dies! I want to see her broken!" She took the wrench in both hands and swung it like a golf club, right into my ribcage.



I felt one of the bones crack and gritted my teeth, trying not to scream. I yelped in surprise instead as the impact sent me tumbling backward until the other girl caught the chair and set me upright again. The shock made my reservoir churn. Wait, I can feel my reservoir again! Change of plans. I just needed to stall a bit longer.



"You'll never break me, Sophia. Because you're weak. You're a coward and a broken excuse for a person. You're a failure in every way, Sophia Hess." I tugged at my chains, wanting them to focus on my limbs. "I'm going to kill you."



Sophia let out a deep belly laugh at that. "You don't have the guts for that, Hebert!" She struck me in the elbow and the joint snapped. "Lara, get the kerosene!"



I couldn't hold back the scream as my arm broke. "I've been through so much in my life, Hess," I snarled. "You don't even rate as an annoyance. You're a parasite, and I won't even bat an eye when I squash you."



Reality went red and black. I could hear myself wailing in agony. Sophia tore the knife out of my skull and my vision swam. I could only see out of one eye. She'd gouged my eye out! Blood and tears ran down my face as I choked on sheer pain.



"Shut UP, you stupid bitch! I'm going to carve you up into little pieces and mail your parts to your dad, one chunk at a time!" She stabbed me in the stomach, a shallow cut, and dragged it down to my pelvis. Her smile would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. "They say nobody wants to die a virgin..." She drew her hand back, winding up.



Come on, body! Please! I could feel that my reservoir was using most of the slime in an attempt to regenerate the damage like it had done when Panacea healed me. Through tremendous force of will, I gathered some of it and shaped it. She was too close for me to safely use bomb-bugs without getting caught in the spray. I went for yellow widows instead.



I glared defiantly at her and let out a guttural scream. My jaw unhinged itself and a swarm of enraged mutant insects issued forth from my throat, driving their deadly stingers at the two women. Sophia drove the knife into me as retaliation before she turned into the black cloud, while Lara hurled the tank of kerosene at me. It struck me in my broken arm and knocked me over, the pungent liquid spilling over and around me.



Sophia threw a lighter at me, the rectangle flicking open and coming to life as it solidified. The kerosene erupted in flame and the licking heat engulfed me. The pain was overwhelming, omnipresent, yet I felt no real damage. I guessed that Lisa must have been right about my honeycombs. I tried to roll on the ground, shifting the chair but ineffectually.



My widows, dying from the heat and smoke, continued to impale Lara and inject her with their deadly payload. She wouldn't survive the night.



The wall exploded inward. Glory Girl had crashed through, and Shielder was following close behind. Sophia, still in her shadow form, tried to escape by rushing past them.



No.



I focused on Shielder, aiming as best I could, and spat a single bomb-bug. He raised a forcefield out of reflex just in time to save his life, the living explosive bursting against it in a shower of neon green that actually tried to eat through the energy field. More importantly, however, was where that shower of green ended up. The deadly alkaline rained down onto – and through – Sophia's Breaker form.



One moment she was an amorphous mass, the next she was on the ground gurgling out pitiful screams, pieces of her separated or missing altogether. The screams died as her lungs melted away, and she gave her death rattle.



"Oh my god, Skitter..." Glory Girl scooped me up, heedless of the fire on my body, and lifted me into the air. "We'll get you help. Just, please, hold on..."



I felt the wind on my naked form as we flew.

 

[Vherstinae]

Interlude 4.x



The noise was like a construction site. Crashing, buzzing and stomping shook the house and the dogs were going berserk. Bentley stood like a true soldier beside the bed, barking at the door. Cassie hid behind the mattress and Twinkles stood protectively over her mistress, ready to fight.



Rachel crawled out from beneath the poodle and grabbed her mask before flinging open the door. Lisa was already in the hall, domino mask over her eyes, while Brian and Alec were a bit slower to respond. Danny came quite literally screaming down the stairs. "Taylor's gone," he bellowed the moment he saw the teens.



"That must be Atlas freaking out, then," Aisha said, Imp mask in hand. "I'll go let him out! You guys figure out what happened!"



Rachel barreled past the others and was up the stairs even before Aisha had finished speaking. "C'mon," she hollered without even bothering to look over her shoulder.



Taylor's room was, for the most part, untouched. The bed was in disarray, sheets thrown on the floor, and several items had been knocked off the nightstand. What struck Rachel the most was the open window. A thick zipline cable was seemingly phased through the ceiling of Taylor's room and let outside to a piton lodged in a distant building.



"Shadow Stalker," Brian and Lisa snarled almost in unison. The big man stalked forward and inspected the window. "Why didn't the alarm go off?"



Lisa pointed. "The window's not open; the pane is gone. She must've unlocked it and phased it loose, which somehow screwed with the wiring."



"How'd she know to do that? How'd she know she could do that?" Rachel was having Bentley try to pick up on Taylor's scent to track the girl.



"She's had over a month to prepare and experiment," Alec commented. "Probably was planning this at the old house."



"God damn it!" Lisa punched the wall. "My power's not giving me anything on where they took her! What do we do now!?"



A buzzing heralded Atlas' appearance at the window, Aisha on his back. "We follow this guy," the young girl replied as she donned her mask. "He wants to get moving and I think he knows where he's going."



Rachel again stormed ahead of everyone else, the dogs following at her heels. By the time they reached the ground floor, the animals were almost too big for the stairwell. She leapt atop Twinkles the moment the poodle was big enough. The other dogs knew the procedure and waited patiently for the humans to climb aboard before dashing off.



In one leap and a little clawing, Twinkles was bounding across the rooftops. Rachel steered the dog to follow Atlas and Aisha, keeping the glistening beetle in her sight at all times. Atlas was headed in the direction of the docks, which made sense to Rachel. Shadow Stalker probably already had a place picked out and wouldn't have had the time to refurbish another location when she discovered the Heberts had moved. She grabbed her phone while she rode and pushed 7 on her speed dial. While Lisa had helped her type in the other contact names, Rachel was literate enough to spell PRT by herself.



"Parahuman Response Team, what is the nature of your emergency?"



"Skitter's been kidnapped!" Her voice came out in a scream and Rachel realized how much she was feeling, how deeply worried she was for her friend. "We're heading toward the docks, following Atlas. Send backup!"



"Um, alright, who are you and who is this Atlas?"



"We're the Undersiders and Atlas is her bug, fucknut! Backtrace my triangles or whatever the fuck you cocksuckers do and figure out where I'm going! A psycho killer has my friend!" Warm wetness ran down Rachel's face, the tears falling freely as her panic made itself known. Taylor could die. Her sister could die.



"A-alright, stay on the line and we'll trace your signal. We're mobilizing a PRT squad now."



Rachel tucked the phone into her pocket, leaving the call active, and dug her heels into Twinkles' ribs. The dog yeped slightly but sped up, pouring all of her effort into following the beetle. The dirty blonde's vision tunneled and she squinted her eyes to focus. Every fiber of her being was focused on the chase, the urgency. Twinkles leapt from rooftop to rooftop, claws gouging divots in industrial roofs and tearing shingles off civilian houses.



Ahead, a column of smoke began to rise. Rachel's heart leapt into her throat. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead.



Atlas came to a halt and Rachel slowed Twinkles to a gradual stop. It was hard to see with the smoke and dancing firelight, but two figures floated in the air: one in blue and white, the other in yellow and white. Glory Girl and Shielder, she suspected. Glory Girl had a body in her arms, a naked body from what she could see. Her blood ran cold.



"Is she okay?" Instead of a bellow, Rachel's question came out of a cracking voice and she coughed at the tail end of it.



"I'm not sure," the blonde bombshell shouted back. "We need to get her to Panacea!" She flew off in a new direction and Rachel pulled her phone back out.



"Where I'm at now is where Skitter was taken," she said in a harsh tone. "We're getting her help now. You clean up the mess." She hung up and once again spurred Twinkles to give chase.



(BREAK)



The Dallons lived in a high-end condo on the east side of town. Glory Girl landed, cradling Taylor in her arms, and shifted the wounded naked girl to rest on her shoulder. The blonde hiked up her skirt to access a pocket in her shorts and swiped a card. She turned to smile at Shielder. "Thanks, Eric. You can head home now. Give my love to Aunt Sarah."



Shielder patted his cousin on the shoulder. "Okay, V. Good luck." He lifted into the air and floated off.



Already letting the dogs shrink, Rachel hopped off Twinkles and trotted up behind Glory Girl. "You're letting us come up." It wasn't a question and, after taking a look at her, the heroine just nodded and left the door open.



The dogs hurried with her and the rest of the Undersiders followed, with Danny in tow. Glory Girl floated up the stairs, moving slowly enough to allow the others to follow. The Dallon condo was one of four on the sixth floor, exquisitely furnished as only a law partner's salary could allow. After unlocking the door, Victoria kicked it in. "Amy!"



After some clunking, two doors burst open. Carol and Mark Dallon staggered out of the master bedroom, partly clothed and bleary-eyed. Carol's long, dark-blonde hair was frizzed all around her head. Amy Dallon's hair was even worse than her mother's, looking like a brown afro as she poked her head out of her room.



"Vicky, what–" Amy's eyes practically bugged out of her head as she saw the package in Victoria's arms. "No! No! No, no, no!" She ducked back into her room and slammed the door.



Glory Girl flew over to Panacea's door and pounded on it. "Ames, this girl is almost dead! She needs your help!"



"NO!" Amy's voice cracked as she screamed. "Take her away!"



Take her away? Rachel snarled and stomped toward Amy's room. Lisa rested her hand on the bulkier girl's shoulder. "Cerberus? Let me handle this, please." Lisa stepped closer to the door and opened her mouth but was cut off by Brandish's scream.



"What is that thing!?" The Dallon matriarch pointed at the window, where an enormous insectoid form obscured the usual view of the city.



"That's just Atlas. Calm your tits." Aisha gave a long-suffering sigh from the couch, where she had her feet propped up on the coffee table. "He wants to make sure Skitter's okay."



Potential crisis averted, Rachel turned her gaze back to Panacea's room as Lisa knocked on the door.



"Amy?" The smallest blonde raised her voice to make sure she was heard. "It's Foresight. Please, can you tell us why Skitter has you so upset?"



"Just go away!" Amy's voice was thick from crying.



"I get that you're feeling guilty, but why? What is there to be–" Lisa's eyes widened. "Oh, I get it." She rested her hand on the door. "Amy, it's not your fault. You did nothing wrong."



The brunette's laugh was manic. "Nothing wrong? Have you seen her!?"



"Wait a sec," Rachel said as the pieces fit together in her mind. "She thinks she's the one who made Skitter look like that?" She glanced back at Lisa. "Can she even do that?" If Panacea could make such significant changes, why didn't she do more? Couldn't she, say, augment Battery's muscles to make the woman more dangerous to villains? Or turn off powers like Crawler's? Christ, no wonder she's a Striker instead of a Tinker.



Lisa nodded in reply, then turned back to the locked door. "You didn't make those changes, Amy. They're natural adaptations. You've seen the potential for mutation she has, the Breaker abilities in her DNA. All of her changes are designed to help her survive a fight like the end of the war again." She stepped back. "Come see for yourself, Amy. She was set on fire yet she has no burns. She was beaten with a chunk of metal yet only has two wounded joints." She slapped on the door. "Look, just come out and examine her. If you don't believe me, we'll leave."



Finally the door creaked open and Panacea peeked out. "You're not going to go away otherwise, are you?" She let out a defeated sigh when Foresight shook her head. "Fine."



Even Rachel could recognize the tone of someone awaiting bad news. Panacea was fully prepared to find that her suspicions were correct and Taylor was a monster of the brunette's creation. Amy walked over to the couch and saw Taylor, still nude, a blanket draped over her for modesty's sake while her head rested in Imp's lap and a man, presumably her father, cradled her body. She moved slower than refrigerated maple syrup, hand shaking ever so slightly when she finally reached out to touch the girl. Amy rested her fingers on Taylor's forehead, where the word 'PREY' had been carved into her skin.



"Oh my god," she gasped as she understood the damage. "Why...who would do this?" She looked around, desperate for answers. "Why was she stabbed...there!?"



"Shadow Stalker," Rachel replied.



"She used to torture Skitter in her civilian identity, and it's because of Skitter that Shadow Stalker got locked up," Brian expounded.



"You won't have to worry about her anymore," Glory Girl spoke up. "She's dead."



The others looked at Victoria in surprise but opted not to ask for fear of giving Amy the chance to scurry away once again.



Panacea clenched her eyes shut, desperately trying to focus on Skitter's present body rather than the potential evolutionary strands. "Impact reduction...heat-retardant substances..." Her eyes snapped open. "Sweet fuck! I didn't even know that was possible!" She looked over at Foresight, chocolate-brown eyes still bugging out of her head. "Okay, I believe you, because I definitely didn't do this. I don't do brains."



"Do what?" Lisa asked. In an instant all of the Undersiders were at the couch, except for Regent who was raiding the Dallons' fridge.



"I can't tell too much while she's unconscious, but her hair here?" Amy poked at one of the thick strands. "It's connected directly to her brain and seems to have some advanced...fuck, I don't even know what to call it. Biological runtimes? Somehow her brain has engineered itself to pick up mental signals from other living beings. I don't know how well it functions, but..." She shook her head. "Now I'm not sure I should heal her for moral reasons. She could–"



Danny Hebert grabbed Amy by her collar and yanked her down to his level. His eyes bristled with tears and barely restrained fury. "Now you listen here," he hissed through clenched teeth, voice shaking. "That's my only daughter, my baby girl. She's also the last part of my wife I have left in this world. If you don't save her, then I have nothing left to live for. And I promise you, I'll take away everything you have to live for..."



Flashbang grabbed Danny by the back of the neck. "I'll thank you to release my daughter, sir, and not threaten her."



Despite being in the presence of three extremely powerful heroes and a potential walking genocide in the form of Panacea, Danny didn't back down. He looked back and locked eyes with Mark Dallon. "And I'll thank your daughter to save mine. If she doesn't, that's not a threat. It's a sworn oath."



Rachel crouched slightly, a growl rumbling in her throat. If anyone tried hurting Danny... The dogs' bodies cracked in response to her thoughts. The rest of the team were likewise at the ready: even Regent had set aside the Dagwood sandwich he'd been building to prepare for a fight.



"You really love her, don't you?" Amy's voice sliced through the tension and Danny looked back to her.



"She was the world to my wife and me. She's my life. I fucked up and almost lost her once; I'm never going to let that happen again. I don't care if I get killed in the process. I'll do everything I can to protect my daughter."



Amy nodded and placed her hand back on Skitter's forehead. "Lean back and brace yourself. Some patients have been known to thrash as nerves repair themselves."



Taylor's body arched violently as she took in a desperate gasp of air. Her limbs spasmed, tendons audibly snapping as her body regenerated. The letters in her forehead knitted together, turned to pale scars, then finally disappeared. The knife wounds likewise closed and erased any evidence they had ever been there. The girl's skin bulged and rippled as things moved beneath it, and even more strands of hair burst from her scalp.



Skitter's eyes snapped open, revealing that they had changed yet again. No longer glowing, they were now slitted like a reptile's (Like the raptor's, Rachel thought) and sported irises the color of liquid gold. She panted, looking around at the people gathered, not recognizing the room she was in.



"...What the fuck just happened!?"