I find myself returning here once more. I am… affected, I find. Undeniably so.
Oracle. The very name makes my blood boil. How dare she take a name that should imply truth and wisdom, yet spout such blatant, poisonous lies? May she choke on her forked tongue.
And yet I cannot put her words out of my mind. They linger, like the seed of some vile parasite, ready to sprout at the slightest sign of frailty and feed on me until I am drained of life. Her words were false, and yet she spoke with such conviction.
Why? When she called me 'hypocrite'—how could that ring true? When she said that I had enslaved my teammates, my dear friends—why can I not convince myself that she was lying, rather than merely wrong?
I know I have not mastered the other Wards. I will not be convinced otherwise. I know my own powers, I know my Rings, and I know the Seven. I do not—cannot—control them. And I will never be able to, for as long as the Sun still rises over this eastern shore.
And yet, unless I sorely misjudge her, her power grants insight. So how can she believe these things? What can I draw from this? What can I learn?
I know that this introspection, this self-questioning, this damnable uncertainty is exactly what Oracle intended. I know that her whole purpose was to shake me, to affect me. Even so, I cannot deny she has succeeded—and, like a moth drawn to flame, I cannot help myself. I must seek to understand why.
To my credit, I have been patient. I have waited until the stakes are lower, until I returned home, where no one depended upon me to be the unyielding warrior I have become. Now at last I am here, sitting at my desk, pen in hand, and I can wait no longer. As it was after Leviathan's attack, so it is now: I must understand today before the morrow comes.
And yet, is not self-knowledge a good thing? Should I not thank Oracle, despite her lies and malice, for giving me this opportunity? It is an opportunity for growth, after all.
Enough jest. Hypocrisy: how does it apply to me, if at all? If I assume Oracle is not merely deluded, what can I learn from this?
As if by providence, an example makes itself apparent. I was beset, before the forging of the Three, by three primary tormentors: Madison, Sophia, and Emma. And I have not treated each of them in the same way.
I can scarcely remember Madison's face. The image in my mind is hazy, barely visible. She, I have ignored. She has no part in my life any longer. And this is entirely right. I desire no retribution, though I hope she learns the error of her ways—for her sake, and the sake of any future victims. I see nothing I might gain by her penitence.
Sophia, of course, I extended a hand to. I cannot easily think of any better decision I have made. Sophia is dear to me, now. She is loyal, steadfast, supportive—in short, everything I could hope for in a friend, and everything Emma was not.
But to Emma I was less kind. Emma attacked me—cruelly, viciously—and I retaliated in kind. It does not escape me that I was also instrumental in Sophia's rejection of her, several weeks later. Where to Sophia I have extended a hand, to Emma I was nothing so much as a Montresor. Nemo me impune lacessit.
What was the key difference between these two? Was it mere whimsy? Caprice, that made me help and teach one broken soul, and leave another to rot? Was it timing? Did Sophia come into my life as Annatar at the right time for me to seek to help her, and Emma at the wrong one?
No. It was indeed utility, as Oracle said, and I know that perfectly well. I can use heroes. Sophia represented a tool which I could turn to my advantage. A hero on the streets, whom I could use to better my city. Emma, on the other hand, was a small girl in a small school, with small ambitions, desires, scale. She was useless to me, and so there was no purpose in helping her.
And yet I refuse to believe that I ought to have forgiven Emma—or Sophia, or Madison, for that matter. After all they did to me—after the eighteen months of hell, after destroying any hope I may have had for the future, after crushing the light out of my world, I refuse to believe that it was my responsibility to forgive them. The saint may turn the other cheek, but failing to do so cannot of itself make one a sinner. There surely must be a grey area, or God is truly cruel.
But I mean to be a hero. To do more than the bare minimum. To go above and beyond.
This is the task I set for myself. The objective is to protect the innocent, not to punish the guilty. I do not feel that I acted unjustly with Emma, but justice, while noble, is not the ideal to which I aspire. Justice is a punisher of the guilty. I sought to be a defender of the innocent.
Have I lost sight of this? I killed Bakuda, and she deserved it. I cast off Emma, and she deserved it. I do not feel guilty over either of these things. But do I not fixate upon them more than I ought? I am no judge, no executioner. I am a hero, and the punishment of the deserving ought not to be my primary concern.
And punishment comes at a cost. Oracle knows me. She hates me not as Annatar, but as Taylor Hebert. And I cannot imagine why, except for what I did to Emma. Justice or not, I have created a powerful enemy.
I feel no need to hate her in the same way. I am certain, if Oracle would side with Emma against me, that she has long since done me wrong. That she, too, would deserve my justice. And yet I feel no need to lift her mask, nor even much curiosity as to what I would find there. It feels almost irrelevant, trivial now. Instead I will hate only Oracle, the silver-tongued supervillain who has placed my father into danger.
Kaiser knows my identity. By extension, he knows my father's. Oracle—for I am certain it was she who told Kaiser my name—has placed him in incredible danger. Kaiser may have been against the murder of Fleur, years ago, but things have changed, and so has he. If nothing else, his taunts tonight, his flagrant use of my civilian name, makes that abundantly clear.
I love my father. I may not be with him as often as I would like, I may not embrace him as often as I should, but I do love him dearly. To lose him would be devastating. And yet to betray those ideals for which I stand would be no less so.
What will I do, should it come to a crossroads? What will I do, should it prove necessary to weigh my father's life and happiness in one hand, and my identity, my very soul, in the other? What will I do if I am forced to choose? I never dreamed that such a choice would ever come before me, not in my darkest nightmares, and yet here it is.
Kaiser, you have made an enemy today. Take comfort: I do not think we shall remain enemies for very long.
-x-x-x-
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Because Annatar is known for being very forgiving! Enemies today, friends tomorrow!
Wait, I think I understood that wrong. You're fucked, dude. Annatar can get pretty hardcore when it comes to dishing out justice (and she's not sorry about it), and you've already announced that you aren't following the rules any more. That's too bad; the rules were protecting you from her a lot more than the other way around. She charged Leviathan with no guarantee others would follow. She just now drew a weapon on you and half of the Empire with only a handful of Wards for backup. She's not afraid of you; she is Annatar, the Gift Giver. She is a pretty cool guy, and she doesn't afraid of anything.
Edit: Also, Amy is willing and able to make her a T-Rex to ride into battle. Just... saying.
I find myself returning here once more. I am… affected, I find. Undeniably so.
Oracle. The very name makes my blood boil. How dare she take a name that should imply truth and wisdom, yet spout such blatant, poisonous lies? May she choke on her forked tongue.
And yet I cannot put her words out of my mind. They linger, like the seed of some vile parasite, ready to sprout at the slightest sign of frailty and feed on me until I am drained of life. Her words were false, and yet she spoke with such conviction.
Why? When she called me 'hypocrite'—how could that ring true? When she said that I had enslaved my teammates, my dear friends—why can I not convince myself that she was lying, rather than merely wrong?
I know I have not mastered the other Wards. I will not be convinced otherwise. I know my own powers, I know my Rings, and I know the Seven. I do not—cannot—control them. And I will never be able to, for as long as the Sun still rises over this eastern shore.
And yet, unless I sorely misjudge her, her power grants insight. So how can she believe these things? What can I draw from this? What can I learn?
I know that this introspection, this self-questioning, this damnable uncertainty is exactly what Oracle intended. I know that her whole purpose was to shake me, to affect me. Even so, I cannot deny she has succeeded—and, like a moth drawn to flame, I cannot help myself. I must seek to understand why.
To my credit, I have been patient. I have waited until the stakes are lower, until I returned home, where no one depended upon me to be the unyielding warrior I have become. Now at last I am here, sitting at my desk, pen in hand, and I can wait no longer. As it was after Leviathan's attack, so it is now: I must understand today before the morrow comes.
And yet, is not self-knowledge a good thing? Should I not thank Oracle, despite her lies and malice, for giving me this opportunity? It is an opportunity for growth, after all.
Enough jest. Hypocrisy: how does it apply to me, if at all? If I assume Oracle is not merely deluded, what can I learn from this?
As if by providence, an example makes itself apparent. I was beset, before the forging of the Three, by three primary tormentors: Madison, Sophia, and Emma. And I have not treated each of them in the same way.
I can scarcely remember Madison's face. The image in my mind is hazy, barely visible. She, I have ignored. She has no part in my life any longer. And this is entirely right. I desire no retribution, though I hope she learns the error of her ways—for her sake, and the sake of any future victims. I see nothing I might gain by her penitence.
Sophia, of course, I extended a hand to. I cannot easily think of any better decision I have made. Sophia is dear to me, now. She is loyal, steadfast, supportive—in short, everything I could hope for in a friend, and everything Emma was not.
But to Emma I was less kind. Emma attacked me—cruelly, viciously—and I retaliated in kind. It does not escape me that I was also instrumental in Sophia's rejection of her, several weeks later. Where to Sophia I have extended a hand, to Emma I was nothing so much as a Montresor. Nemo me impune lacessit.
What was the key difference between these two? Was it mere whimsy? Caprice, that made me help and teach one broken soul, and leave another to rot? Was it timing? Did Sophia come into my life as Annatar at the right time for me to seek to help her, and Emma at the wrong one?
No. It was indeed utility, as Oracle said, and I know that perfectly well. I can use heroes. Sophia represented a tool which I could turn to my advantage. A hero on the streets, whom I could use to better my city. Emma, on the other hand, was a small girl in a small school, with small ambitions, desires, scale. She was useless to me, and so there was no purpose in helping her.
And yet I refuse to believe that I ought to have forgiven Emma—or Sophia, or Madison, for that matter. After all they did to me—after the eighteen months of hell, after destroying any hope I may have had for the future, after crushing the light out of my world, I refuse to believe that it was my responsibility to forgive them. The saint may turn the other cheek, but failing to do so cannot of itself make one a sinner. There surely must be a grey area, or God is truly cruel.
But I mean to be a hero. To do more than the bare minimum. To go above and beyond.
This is the task I set for myself. The objective is to protect the innocent, not to punish the guilty. I do not feel that I acted unjustly with Emma, but justice, while noble, is not the ideal to which I aspire. Justice is a punisher of the guilty. I sought to be a defender of the innocent.
Have I lost sight of this? I killed Bakuda, and she deserved it. I cast off Emma, and she deserved it. I do not feel guilty over either of these things. But do I not fixate upon them more than I ought? I am no judge, no executioner. I am a hero, and the punishment of the deserving ought not to be my primary concern.
And punishment comes at a cost. Oracle knows me. She hates me not as Annatar, but as Taylor Hebert. And I cannot imagine why, except for what I did to Emma. Justice or not, I have created a powerful enemy.
I feel no need to hate her in the same way. I am certain, if Oracle would side with Emma against me, that she has long since done me wrong. That she, too, would deserve my justice. And yet I feel no need to lift her mask, nor even much curiosity as to what I would find there. It feels almost irrelevant, trivial now. Instead I will hate only Oracle, the silver-tongued supervillain who has placed my father into danger.
Kaiser knows my identity. By extension, he knows my father's. Oracle—for I am certain it was she who told Kaiser my name—has placed him in incredible danger. Kaiser may have been against the murder of Fleur, years ago, but things have changed, and so has he. If nothing else, his taunts tonight, his flagrant use of my civilian name, makes that abundantly clear.
I love my father. I may not be with him as often as I would like, I may not embrace him as often as I should, but I do love him dearly. To lose him would be devastating. And yet to betray those ideals for which I stand would be no less so.
What will I do, should it come to a crossroads? What will I do, should it prove necessary to weigh my father's life and happiness in one hand, and my identity, my very soul, in the other? What will I do if I am forced to choose? I never dreamed that such a choice would ever come before me, not in my darkest nightmares, and yet here it is.
Kaiser, you have made an enemy today. Take comfort: I do not think we shall remain enemies for very long.
-x-x-x-
Please consider donating to my Patreon. Many thanks to those who have already donated.
I'm kind of dumbfounded that she hasn't made the obvious conclusion that Oracle is Emma.
Come to think of it, why didn't Taylor recognize Oracle's voice? And please don't say Tinkertech. Tinkertech is expensive (especially when you lack a Tinker on your own team), and using it on something to mask one's voice is a little ridiculous.
And please tell me that the PRT is going to go after Max Anders for this. Threatening Taylor's father and her civilian ID--knowingly--has definitely crossed a red line.
Man, if the E88 kills Danny, Taylor is going to go John Wick on their asses.
I'm kind of dumbfounded that she hasn't made the obvious conclusion that Oracle is Emma.
Come to think of it, why didn't Taylor recognize Oracle's voice? And please don't say Tinkertech. Tinkertech is expensive (especially when you lack a Tinker on your own team), and using it on something to mask one's voice is a little ridiculous.
My impression is that, on some level ,she's made the connection, but is consciously refusing to acknowledge it. Maybe in hopes she can still make overtures to Emma while loathing Oracle.
And yeah. If Kaiser doesn't realize that he's essentially threatened her king by exposing his queen with little seeming backup and tons of pieces who can take her, and potentially left his own king open, he must think he's playing checkers.
This is a very real, very honest piece of introspection. It feels natural. I like that Taylor isn't trying to justify her own mistake and shortcomings, and is even using this whole situation to gain further self-insight.
This kind of bugs me, but I won't go into detail here. Suffice to say it doesn't mesh well with my beliefs, and that is all I am going to say period.
She does seem to have missed a bit of callousness in herself. Using terms like 'tool' and 'useless' to describe Sophia and Emma may not bode well, but Taylor's actions with her teammates and Sophia in particular are too humane and natural to be simple agenda plays.
Taylor's reaffirmation on her goal to be a hero, and her interpretation of the word is encouraging. It's also nice to see that she acknowledges where she fumbled on that point, but we didn't see any indication of how she plans to avoid this in the future.
As for the whole Emma/Oracle issue, I have to wonder how Sophia is going to deal with this. She already feels guilty about cutting ties with Emma, and likely still does about Taylor as well. Knowing that she caused Emma to trigger will put her into a very dark place.
I'm still not a fan of how the previous chapter ended, even with the rewrite (Pax Empyrean's omake at the end of last page was more to my tastes), but I can't deny the strength of this prose. Just... damn.
Many thanks to @themanwhowas for the character of Auxiliary.
Thanks in particular to @BeaconHill for assistance in the rewriting process.
-x-x-x-
Rune leaned back in her cushioned seat as the limousine sped down the road. Her robe, already uncomfortably hot on this warm night, was positively drenched with sweat. Her hands were shaking where they rested on her knees.
"Rune, relax," said Oracle. "We had that."
Rune swallowed. "You just baited the cape who faced down an Endbringer," she said. Her voice was about an octave higher than normal.
"Careful, Rune," growled Hookwolf from the row in front of her and Oracle. "Your hero-worship is showing."
"I don't—"
"There's no call for that sort of behavior, Hookwolf." Kaiser's voice was smooth and unruffled from his seat beside Purity two rows ahead of Rune. He turned back to them, his armor glinting like silver in the light from the streetlamps outside and the dashboard in front. "Annatar is a dangerous parahuman, Rune, there's no question about that. But the longer she goes unchecked, the more dangerous she grows."
"And the more powerful she gets," said Oracle grimly, "the more she'll abuse that power. We have to stop her." She huffed a derisive laugh. "After all, it's not as though the fucking heroes will."
Rune glanced at her newest teammate. Oracle was a strange one. She'd sought them out, shortly after Leviathan. In general, if a cape didn't trigger from inside the E88 rank and file, they were instead slowly brought into the fold and deliberately recruited.
It was what had happened to Rune herself, after all.
A thought occurred to her. "Is Annatar really mastering all her teammates?" she asked.
Oracle raised a hand and shifted it from side to side in a "so-so" gesture. "Sort of. My power's pretty clear that there's something planted in them, and it shows up like a master effect would—but it doesn't seem to be feeding obedience into them." She shook her head. "I could be wrong, though. They're all really hard to read. Too many variables, too much input from those Rings."
"I remember when they said telepaths weren't a thing," said Alabaster dryly. "Those were the days…"
"I'm not a telepath," Oracle said. "Be a lot easier if I were a telepath."
"Close enough," Alabaster grumbled. "Thinker, with a master 0 rating, right? That's what you decided. That's spooky."
"Says the guy who was this close to naming himself Schrödinger's Zombie," said Othala caustically.
"That's totally different," said Alabaster, and even though he was facing away from her, Rune could hear the smirk in his voice.
"My friends, please," Kaiser said, his tone patronizing, as if he were speaking to children rather than colleagues. "Let's not fight amongst ourselves. We have far more pressing matters. First, we must all thank Auxiliary for his quick work on the car. Very well done."
"Yes, you did vell," Krieg agreed, his words stilted by his false German accent. Rune could barely keep herself from rolling her eyes.
The young man sitting in the driver's seat didn't visibly react to the praise. "It is just the job," he said, his crisp voice perfectly unruffled. The hint of a genuine German accent only made Krieg's sound sillier. "Be a poor tinker if I couldn't keep a car running."
"Well, you certainly went above and beyond the call of duty today," Kaiser said magnanimously. "Second, we'll be arriving at the Medhall building shortly. Do any of you need transportation from there?"
Oracle raised a hand. "If it's all right with you, sir," she said, "I'd like to stay at the building for a couple of hours, to deflect my parents' suspicion. They're not expecting me back for a couple more hours. If they hear that my 'internship's' function was cut short on the same night as a raid on Empire…"
"Surely you could just tell them it was held in that part of town," said Krieg. "That the function was canceled because of the raid."
Oracle shook her head. "My dad's a lawyer," she said. "He'd try to sue for leaving me to fend for myself in the middle of a PRT raid. No one wants that."
"I suggest," said Kaiser, a languid smile in his voice, "that we trust the psychic when she says what we should and shouldn't tell her father."
"Not a psychic," said Oracle, looking down.
"Rune," Kaiser said, glancing back at her. "Do you think you could keep Oracle company, for at least part of the time she has to stay at the building?"
Rune swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"Thank you," said Oracle, with a perfectly even voice, and Rune wondered what the girl's power had said about her.
-x-x-x-
"So, Rune."
Rune glanced up from her newspaper. Oracle was sitting across the coffee table from her, in one of the Medhall Building's private lounges. The other girl still had her mask on, but her robe had been taken off and neatly folded on the chair beside her. She was wearing a green blouse which brought out the vibrant color of her hair, alongside simple blue jeans.
Rune was jealous. She didn't think she'd ever be able to make clothes that simple look that good.
Oracle set down her mug of spiced cider. Rune felt her eyes roving over her, studying her like a bug pinned in a display.
Suddenly, Rune realized Oracle was waiting for a response. "Yeah?"
"What brought you to Empire?" Oracle asked.
Rune narrowed her eyes. "Bit of a personal question."
"You don't have to answer," said Oracle quickly. "I'm just curious."
This was the problem with fucking psychics. Thinkers in general. Rune always felt like she was in a game of high-stakes poker, and she was terrible at poker. She never knew whether Oracle was being honest, or whether it was a careful lie, designed to manipulate.
But she'd be working with Oracle for the foreseeable future. It wouldn't help to be rude. Putting herself out there was a risk, yeah, but she'd stay on guard. And it wasn't as though Oracle was a powerful master.
"I'm related to the Herrens," she said finally. "You know, Othala's extended family? My parents split from the clan, but I got back in. Got sent to juvie for shit in school, got my powers there. Joined up once I broke out."
Oracle was watching her like that again—that piercing, roving look. Rune shuddered, and was about to open her mouth when Oracle looked away.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I know that makes you uncomfortable. It's just—it's hard to help myself."
Rune gritted her teeth. "Mind telling me what's in my tarots, psychic?"
"I'm not a psychic." Oracle seemed to be shrinking into herself, curling up a little, withdrawing like a turtle into her shell.
Rune looked away, fighting the queasy feeling in her stomach. For a time, there was silence.
"Do you believe in it?" Oracle asked at length.
Rune glanced back. Oracle was carefully not looking at her. Her back was still bent over her cider, still curled. Her red hair fell around her mask like a curtain.
"In what?" Rune asked.
"It. The—the racism, the nationalism. The Nazi thing."
"Yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
Oracle visibly struggled with herself for a moment, and then at last brought her hands up and cupped them over her face. "Okay," she said. "I believe you."
It hurt to watch. "Fuck," Rune swore. "Okay, then, I don't believe it! Just calm down!"
Oracle shook her head spasmodically. "Don't," she whispered. "Now it's even harder."
Rune blinked. "What?"
Oracle's hands were still covering her mask. "When I look at someone," she said, "I can see the reason why they're doing whatever they're doing right then. The deeper I go, the more I get—but I can only do it with line of sight. Please—don't tempt me to look if you don't have to. I know you hate it when I do."
Rune grimaced. Drawn inward, curled up as she was, Oracle looked like nothing so much as a kicked puppy.
"Does it… hurt?" she asked. "To not use your powers?"
Oracle shook her head. "No, it's just…" she trailed off. Swallowed. "Well. You triggered, too."
Rune found herself wincing. "If—if you don't mind—"
"My best friend threatened to—to hurt me." Oracle murmured. "Really badly. I don't—I didn't know why. I had no idea. There were no hints, no signs, and then suddenly she was just—gone."
"That sucks."
Oracle snorted. "It doesn't sound as bad as some, does it?" she asked roughly. "Here I am, surrounded by people who triggered because of rape, or because someone died, or things I can't even imagine, and I'm bitching because my friend betrayed me."
"Betrayal's a bitch," said Rune firmly. "You don't have to tell me that."
Oracle flinched. "Yeah," she murmured, hands still covering her face. "Yeah, it is."
Rune considered her. "But what does that have to do with—"
"I didn't understand her," Oracle said lowly, her voice frail over the words, "and it cost me. It's—it's scary, not to understand."
Oh.
"I'm sorry," Rune said.
"It's okay," said Oracle. Her face was still covered.
She's fucking trying, dammit, Rune told herself. She's trying so damn hard to win you over. Hell, if she's lying, she's a better fucking liar than Kaiser. Get over yourself for just one minute and help the poor girl!
"You can—" Rune hesitated. "You can stop covering your face. If you want."
Oracle tensed, and didn't move. "Are you—are you sure? I don't want to—"
"Yes," said Rune quickly, before she could change her mind. "Yes, I'm sure."
Slowly, Oracle pulled her hands away, and looked up at her. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'm sorry. I—"
"It's fine."
Oracle swallowed. "Anyway," she said, shaking herself. "Yes. Do you really believe all of it?"
Rune grimaced. "Yes? I don't know. It's a lot to believe." She considered the girl across from her. "Do you? Know whether I—"
"Yes," said Oracle curtly.
Rune waited.
"You have to ask," said Oracle quietly. "I'm not fucking Annatar. I'm not going to tell you something about yourself if you don't want to hear it."
Rune frowned. "What does Annatar…?"
"How do you think Kaiser heard her identity?" Oracle asked. "I told him."
Rune's eyes widened. "You unmasked her?"
"She's dangerous," Oracle growled. Rune flinched, shocked by the venom in her words. "She's like me—only about a hundred times worse. And she won't let you hide, if you want to. She'll take you by the hair and force you face to face with the ugliest parts of yourself, and then leave you to rot."
"It's that bad?"
"Worse." Suddenly, Oracle was looking away. "And it's my fault. I know it's my fault. I knew her, you know?"
"That's how you knew her identity?"
"Yeah." Oracle was bent, curled inward again. "I… I caused her trigger."
Rune blinked. Her mouth very nearly dropped open. "You fucking what?
"Yeah, I know. It was… stupid isn't the right word. Evil, more like."
"Well, yeah!" Rune stared at the other girl, askance. "You know what it's like to trigger! How the fuck could you do that to someone else?"
"I didn't know, then—"
"That's no fucking excuse! You don't do that kind of thing to another person!"
"This is it for you, Nazi bitch," the black boy snarled at her as he raised the cinderblock one last time. She tried to blink the blood out of her eyes. "When you get to hell, say hi to Hitler for me!"
"I know!" Oracle's voice, ragged with grief and shame, broke Rune out of her reverie. "I know. I was a monster. And I created a monster so much worse than I could ever be." She swallowed. "I just wish… I wish she hadn't done all this. I wish I could get her back, could apologize. But now she has, and I have to try and stop her."
"And that's why you joined up?" Rune asked. "To fix what you broke?"
"Yeah. Kaiser's the only one who has enough power and capes to fight her. It's my fault—I have to set it right."
"Well," Rune said, finding herself lost for words.
Oracle was peering at her, she was sure, through the hidden fabric-covered holes in that mask. "I was stupid," she said. "I was a broken little kid with my own share of trauma. It doesn't make it okay—I know it doesn't make it okay, nothing can—but I'm trying to make it right. I'm doing what I can, even if it's never going to be enough."
Rune grimaced. She'd never been good at hating or even staying angry at the pathetic. The crude, the dangerous, and the disgusting, yes—but if she had a weakness, it was pity. "I guess I can understand that," she said quietly.
"I… I appreciate it, anyway." Oracle shook her head. "If you want to know about yourself, ask. I'll never tell otherwise."
Rune pursed her lips. "You know how tempting it is, right?"
"Yeah," Oracle said ruefully. "But—it's better to have the choice, isn't it?" She sighed. "I really hate my powers, you know? Like, they're incredibly useful, incredibly powerful—but I never wanted this. I never wanted to see that my dad is a broken man holding himself together by clinging to his wealth. I never wanted to see that the only reason my mom hasn't divorced him is because of me. I never wanted to see that my sister literally hates both of my parents—really hates, like 'has considered patricide' sort of hate. And I'm not going to put anyone else through that unless they ask me to."
"You did it to Annatar," Rune pointed out.
"That," Oracle hissed, "was different. Annatar is a monster. She's powerful, dangerous, and she's willing to hurt anyone who gets in her way. It was damn time she got a taste of her own medicine."
Rune raised an eyebrow. This girl certainly seemed vitriolic, for someone who blamed herself for all of this. All she said aloud, however, was, "She didn't seem that bad during the Endbringer fight."
"No?" Oracle shook her head. "She's charismatic. You should have seen what I saw when I looked at the other Wards. They're devoted to her. She's willing to say anything she needs to, to get in people's heads. If she can use them, she tries to make them loyal to her from there. If she can't…."
Oracle reached up and roughly pulled aside her mask. The pale face looking back at Rune must once have been beautiful, with those high cheekbones and lips that would be full if they were not so thin. Her eyes were large and blue, but lay in sunken pits. She was thin—painfully so, and Rune saw that now, through the bright clothes.
"This is what she does, if she can't use you," said Oracle grimly.
"What did she do?" Rune asked.
"Cracked me," said Oracle with a shudder. "And then sent her lapdog to finish the job. I spent a week in a hospital after my psychotic break. She did that to me because she didn't think she could use me."
On some level, Rune almost found herself pleased at the idea. It felt like karmic justice. It felt right.
"What goes around, comes around, you goose-stepping whore!"
Abruptly, she felt sick. No one deserves to trigger. "You got that from reading her?" she asked.
Oracle glanced away. "That much, yes," she said. "Annatar's harder to read than anyone else I've seen. It's not that I can't get into her head—it's that I get too much. I saw…." She broke off suddenly, shuddering. "Normally, I just get ideas. Concepts. With Annatar, I got words and images. They overwhelmed me, almost made me throw up. Fire, ash, and dust that blocked out the sky… armies of monsters, consuming everything in their way… and her eye above it all, watching, commanding the slaughter and destruction." She clasped her hands together, and Rune saw that they were trembling.
"So… what? She's some kind of evil overlord?" Rune asked.
"Not Taylor," Oracle said quietly. "But Annatar, inside her? Yeah. Something like that. I don't know what it all meant, but one thing I'm sure of is that the reason she was willing to hurt me and not…." She trailed off. Shook her head tiredly. "Utility," she said, and sounded exhausted. "I wasn't useful. There was no place for me in her army."
"Well," said Rune. "Kaiser clearly thinks you're plenty useful." And if you can really put someone like Annatar off-balance with your powers, I gotta say he's not wrong.
Oracle grinned weakly up at her. "I'm glad to be of service," she said, "if it means taking down those bitches."
"Anyway, I guess if we're doing the unmasking thing…" Rune reached up and, with a touch of trepidation, lowered her hood.
Her identity really wasn't that important—she was a wanted fugitive anyway, after her breakout from juvie, so it didn't really give her much safety. Oracle had a lot more to lose, by giving out hers, and she'd already shown her face. Reciprocating was cheap.
She held out a hand. "Nice to meet you," she said. "Janice Rush."
Oracle blinked at her for a moment, then gave a wan smile and took the offered hand. "Likewise," she said. "Emma Barnes."
-x-x-x-
Rune leaned back in her cushioned seat as the limousine sped down the road. Her robe, already uncomfortably hot on this warm night, was positively drenched with sweat. Her hands were shaking where they rested on her knees.
"Rune, relax," said Oracle. "We had that."
Rune swallowed. "You just baited the cape who faced down an Endbringer," she said. Her voice was about an octave higher than normal.
"Careful, Rune," growled Hookwolf from the row in front of her and Oracle. "Your hero-worship is showing."
"I don't—"
"There's no call for that sort of behavior, Hookwolf." Kaiser's voice was smooth and unruffled from his seat beside Purity two rows ahead of Rune. He turned back to them, his armor glinting like silver in the light from the streetlamps outside and the dashboard in front. "Annatar is a dangerous parahuman, Rune, there's no question about that. But the longer she goes unchecked, the more dangerous she grows."
"And the more powerful she gets," said Oracle grimly, "the more she'll abuse that power. We have to stop her." She huffed a derisive laugh. "After all, it's not as though the fucking heroes will."
Rune glanced at her newest teammate. Oracle was a strange one. She'd sought them out, shortly after Leviathan. In general, if a cape didn't trigger from inside the E88 rank and file, they were instead slowly brought into the fold and deliberately recruited.
It was what had happened to Rune herself, after all.
A thought occurred to her. "Is Annatar really mastering all her teammates?" she asked.
Oracle raised a hand and shifted it from side to side in a "so-so" gesture. "Sort of. My power's pretty clear that there's something planted in them, and it shows up like a master effect would—but it doesn't seem to be feeding obedience into them." She shook her head. "I could be wrong, though. They're all really hard to read. Too many variables, too much input from those Rings."
"I remember when they said telepaths weren't a thing," said Alabaster dryly. "Those were the days…"
"I'm not a telepath," Oracle said. "Be a lot easier if I were a telepath."
"Close enough," Alabaster grumbled. "Thinker, with a master 0 rating, right? That's what you decided. That's spooky."
"Says the guy who was this close to naming himself Schrödinger's Zombie," said Othala caustically.
"That's totally different," said Alabaster, and even though he was facing away from her, Rune could hear the smirk in his voice.
"My friends, please," Kaiser said, his tone patronizing, as if he were speaking to children rather than colleagues. "Let's not fight amongst ourselves. We have far more pressing matters. First, we must all thank Auxiliary for his quick work on the car. Very well done."
"Yes, you did vell," Krieg agreed, his words stilted by his false German accent. Rune could barely keep herself from rolling her eyes.
The young man sitting in the driver's seat didn't visibly react to the praise. "It is just the job," he said, his crisp voice perfectly unruffled. The hint of a genuine German accent only made Krieg's sound sillier. "Be a poor tinker if I couldn't keep a car running."
"Well, you certainly went above and beyond the call of duty today," Kaiser said magnanimously. "Second, we'll be arriving at the Medhall building shortly. Do any of you need transportation from there?"
Oracle raised a hand. "If it's all right with you, sir," she said, "I'd like to stay at the building for a couple of hours, to deflect my parents' suspicion. They're not expecting me back for a couple more hours. If they hear that my 'internship's' function was cut short on the same night as a raid on Empire…"
"Surely you could just tell them it was held in that part of town," said Krieg. "That the function was canceled because of the raid."
Oracle shook her head. "My dad's a lawyer," she said. "He'd try to sue for leaving me to fend for myself in the middle of a PRT raid. No one wants that."
"I suggest," said Kaiser, a languid smile in his voice, "that we trust the psychic when she says what we should and shouldn't tell her father."
"Not a psychic," said Oracle, looking down.
"Rune," Kaiser said, glancing back at her. "Do you think you could keep Oracle company, for at least part of the time she has to stay at the building?"
Rune swallowed. "Yes, sir."
"Thank you," said Oracle, with a perfectly even voice, and Rune wondered what the girl's power had said about her.
-x-x-x-
"So, Rune."
Rune glanced up from her newspaper. Oracle was sitting across the coffee table from her, in one of the Medhall Building's private lounges. The other girl still had her mask on, but her robe had been taken off and neatly folded on the chair beside her. She was wearing a green blouse which brought out the vibrant color of her hair, alongside simple blue jeans.
Rune was jealous. She didn't think she'd ever be able to make clothes that simple look that good.
Oracle set down her mug of spiced cider. Rune felt her eyes roving over her, studying her like a bug pinned in a display.
Suddenly, Rune realized Oracle was waiting for a response. "Yeah?"
"What brought you to Empire?" Oracle asked.
Rune narrowed her eyes. "Bit of a personal question."
"You don't have to answer," said Oracle quickly. "I'm just curious."
This was the problem with fucking psychics. Thinkers in general. Rune always felt like she was in a game of high-stakes poker, and she was terrible at poker. She never knew whether Oracle was being honest, or whether it was a careful lie, designed to manipulate.
But she'd be working with Oracle for the foreseeable future. It wouldn't help to be rude. Putting herself out there was a risk, yeah, but she'd stay on guard. And it wasn't as though Oracle was a powerful master.
"I'm related to the Herrens," she said finally. "You know, Allfather's extended family? My parents split from the clan, but I got back in. Got sent to juvie for shit in school, got my powers there. Joined up once I broke out."
Oracle was watching her like that again—that piercing, roving look. Rune shuddered, and was about to open her mouth when Oracle looked away.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I know that makes you uncomfortable. It's just—it's hard to help myself."
Rune gritted her teeth. "Mind telling me what's in my tarots, psychic?"
"I'm not a psychic." Oracle seemed to be shrinking into herself, curling up a little, withdrawing like a turtle into her shell.
Rune looked away, fighting the queasy feeling in her stomach. For a time, there was silence.
"Do you believe in it?" Oracle asked at length.
Rune glanced back. Oracle was carefully not looking at her. Her back was still bent over her cider, still curled. Her red hair fell around her mask like a curtain.
"In what?" Rune asked.
"It. The—the racism, the nationalism. The Nazi thing."
"Yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
Oracle visibly struggled with herself for a moment, and then at last brought her hands up and cupped them over her face. "Okay," she said. "I believe you."
It hurt to watch. "Fuck," Rune swore. "Okay, then, I don't believe it! Just calm down!"
Oracle shook her head spasmodically. "Don't," she whispered. "Now it's even harder."
Rune blinked. "What?"
Oracle's hands were still covering her mask. "When I look at someone," she said, "I can see the reason why they're doing whatever they're doing right then. The deeper I go, the more I get—but I can only do it with line of sight. Please—don't tempt me to look if you don't have to. I know you hate it when I do."
Rune grimaced. Drawn inward, curled up as she was, Oracle looked like nothing so much as a kicked puppy.
"Does it… hurt?" she asked. "To not use your powers?"
Oracle shook her head. "No, it's just…" she trailed off. Swallowed. "Well. You triggered, too."
Rune found herself wincing. "If—if you don't mind—"
"My best friend threatened to—to hurt me." Oracle murmured. "Really badly. I don't—I didn't know why. I had no idea. There were no hints, no signs, and then suddenly she was just—gone."
"That sucks."
Oracle snorted. "It doesn't sound as bad as some, does it?" she asked roughly. "Here I am, surrounded by people who triggered because of rape, or because someone died, or things I can't even imagine, and I'm bitching because my friend betrayed me."
"Betrayal's a bitch," said Rune firmly. "You don't have to tell me that."
Oracle flinched. "Yeah," she murmured, hands still covering her face. "Yeah, it is."
Rune considered her. "But what does that have to do with—"
"I didn't understand her," Oracle said lowly, her voice frail over the words, "and it cost me. It's—it's scary, not to understand."
Oh.
"I'm sorry," Rune said.
"It's okay," said Oracle. Her face was still covered.
She's fucking trying, dammit, Rune told herself. She's trying so damn hard to win you over. Hell, if she's lying, she's a better fucking liar than Kaiser. Get over yourself for just one minute and help the poor girl!
"You can—" Rune hesitated. "You can stop covering your face. If you want."
Oracle tensed, and didn't move. "Are you—are you sure? I don't want to—"
"Yes," said Rune quickly, before she could change her mind. "Yes, I'm sure."
Slowly, Oracle pulled her hands away, and looked up at her. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'm sorry. I—"
"It's fine."
Oracle swallowed. "Anyway," she said, shaking herself. "Yes. Do you really believe all of it?"
Rune grimaced. "Yes? I don't know. It's a lot to believe." She considered the girl across from her. "Do you? Know whether I—"
"Yes," said Oracle curtly.
Rune waited.
"You have to ask," said Oracle quietly. "I'm not fucking Annatar. I'm not going to tell you something about yourself if you don't want to hear it."
Rune frowned. "What does Annatar…?"
"How do you think Kaiser heard her identity?" Oracle asked. "I told him."
Rune's eyes widened. "You unmasked her?"
"She's dangerous," Oracle growled. Rune flinched, shocked by the venom in her words. "She's like me—only about a hundred times worse. And she won't let you hide, if you want to. She'll take you by the hair and force you face to face with the ugliest parts of yourself, and then leave you to rot."
"It's that bad?"
"Worse." Suddenly, Oracle was looking away. "And it's my fault. I know it's my fault. I knew her, you know?"
"That's how you knew her identity?"
"Yeah." Oracle was bent, curled inward again. "I… I caused her trigger."
Rune blinked. Her mouth very nearly dropped open.
"Yeah, I know. It was… stupid isn't the right word. Evil, more like." Oracle swallowed. "I just wish… I wish she hadn't done all this. I wish I could get her back, could apologize. But now she has, and I have to try and stop her."
"Is that why you joined up?"
"Yeah. Kaiser's the only one who has enough power and capes to fight her. It's my fault—I have to set it right."
"Well," Rune said, and then found herself lost for words. She'd spoken with people who thought of themselves as crusaders for the right thing before. They made up half of the Empire. But never had someone's cause been so very personal. "Good luck," she said at last.
"Thanks. Anyway." Oracle shook her head. "If you want to know about yourself, ask. I'll never tell otherwise."
Rune pursed her lips. "You know how tempting it is, right?"
"Yeah," Oracle said ruefully. "But—it's better to have the choice, isn't it?" She sighed. "I really hate my powers, you know? Like, they're incredibly useful, incredibly powerful—but I never wanted this. I never wanted to see that my dad is a broken man holding himself together by clinging to his wealth. I never wanted to see that the only reason my mom hasn't divorced him is because of me. I never wanted to see that my sister literally hates both of my parents—really hates, like 'has considered patricide' sort of hate. And I'm not going to put anyone else through that unless they ask me to."
"You did it to Annatar," Rune found herself saying.
"That," Oracle hissed, "was different. Annatar is a monster. She's powerful, dangerous, and she's willing to hurt anyone who gets in her way. It was damn time she got a taste of her own medicine."
"She didn't seem that bad during the Endbringer fight," said Rune doubtfully.
"No?" Oracle shook her head. "She's charismatic. You should have seen what I saw when I looked at the other Wards. They're devoted to her. She's willing to say anything she needs to, to get in people's heads. If she can use them, she tries to make them loyal to her from there. If she can't…."
Oracle reached up and roughly pulled aside her mask. The pale face looking back at Rune must once have been beautiful, with those high cheekbones and lips that would be full if they were not so thin. Her eyes were large and blue, but lay in sunken pits. She was thin—painfully so, and Rune saw that now, through the bright clothes.
"This is what she does, if she can't use you," said Oracle grimly.
"What did she do?" Rune asked.
"Cracked me," said Oracle with a shudder. "And then sent her lapdog to finish the job. I spent a week in a hospital after my psychotic break. She did that to me because she didn't think she could use me."
"You got that from reading her?"
Oracle glanced away. "That much, yes," she said. "Annatar's harder to read than anyone else I've seen. It's not that I can't get into her head—it's that I get too much. I saw…." She broke off suddenly, shuddering. "Normally, I just get ideas. Concepts. With Annatar, I got words and images. They overwhelmed me, almost made me throw up. Fire, ash, and dust that blocked out the sky… armies of monsters, consuming everything in their way… and her eye above it all, watching, commanding the slaughter and destruction." She clasped her hands together, and Rune saw that they were trembling.
"So… what? She's some kind of evil overlord?" Rune asked.
"Not Taylor," Oracle said quietly. "But Annatar, inside her? Yeah. Something like that. I don't know what it all meant, but one thing I'm sure of is that the reason she was willing to hurt me and not…." She trailed off. Shook her head tiredly. "Utility," she said, and sounded exhausted. "I wasn't useful. There was no place for me in her army."
"Well," said Rune. "I think you're plenty useful."
Oracle grinned weakly up at her. "I'm glad to be of service," she said, "if it means taking down those bitches."
"Anyway, I guess if we're doing the unmasking thing…" Rune reached up and, with a touch of trepidation, lowered her hood. She held out a hand. "Nice to meet you," she said. "Janice Rush."
Oracle blinked at her for a moment, then gave a wan smile and took the offered hand. "Likewise," she said. "Emma Barnes."
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God fucking damnit, Emma, you don't get to be that loathsome and then also have a point. Lithos, I'd like this chapter replaced with one where I can more easily dismiss her point of view.
Looks like my reincarnation theory was closer than I thought. That being said, while I do feel for Emma, I still do not like what she's doing. To me it reads like she was confronted with her sins, and responds by drowning herself even deeper in them. Whatever her stated intentions are, her core reason for this is to hurt Taylor back at all costs. Annatar is just a convenient excuse.
All things considered, I still believe that Taylor will not go Dark Lord. That may sound naive, given the universe we're seeing, but I always maintain hope for happy ending until the story ends. If it doesn't turn out that way, I'll still enjoy it.
Interesting motivation. And no wonder that a look in Sauron's mind can be... harmful.
Weirdly enough this is a power that could fit in Tolkien's work easily. To see thoughts, intentions, emotions in an unguarded mind was common practice for the great elven lords of the early days.
Finrod and Maeglin were known for their skill in that. The latter was even traumatized by Sauron's gaze and became a betrayer to his kin.
If there is something like in Taylor going on with Emma, then Maeglin, Eol's son, the only Elf to knowingly work for the Shadow would be a good fit.
Emma let her pain override her sense. If she actually wanted to stop Annatar and help Taylor, she would have revealed herself and her powers to warn her. Instead, she attacked Taylor where it would hurt most.
Alexandria: How many levels of damning your soul to avert an inevitable disaster are you on?
Oracle: Like, maybe 5 or 6 right now, my dude.
Alexandria: You are like a little baby. Watch this.
Alexandria: [CAULDRON]
"Rune," Kaiser said, glancing back at her. "Do you think you could keep Oracle company, for at least part of the time she has to stay at the building?"
You know, my headcanon is that in every worm fic that doesn't explicitly state otherwise, Emma's older sister is always the same as she is in HOW I LEARNED TO STOP HATING AND LOVE THE BOMB THAT IS NERO CLAUDIUS CAESAR AUGUSTUS GERMANICUS. So I read that she hates her parents and I think "Of course she does, she thinks her mother is trying to poison her and has failed in her duty to produce a male heir for the family."
I would have loved for Rune to respond to this with "Well duh, she's awesome!" and then just fangirl around for a while about the Endbringer fight as Emma gets increasingly angry and jealous.
Rune, you idiot. What has she done so far, other than unmask a Ward and put the Empire into a head on confrontation with a Protectorate division that is considerably stronger than they were in canon? "When I look at Annatar I get visions of a terrifying army of doom laying waste to all that lives! Let's fight her!"
Ok I've really enjoyed your story so far and I'm very gald you did not go the easy route of demonizing Emma and Sophia that has been one of my favorite things of Ring-Maker so far. So I'm looking Forward to how the Emma plot develops.
"She's dangerous," Oracle growled. Rune flinched, shocked by the venom in her words. "She's like me—only about a hundred times worse. And she won't let you hide, if you want to. She'll take you by the hair and force you face to face with the ugliest parts of yourself, and then leave you to rot."
