Many thanks to @BeaconHill for betareading.
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The Brockton Bay skyline really wasn't much like Toronto's. The buildings were blocky, functional things, with barely a distinctive silhouette among them. The derelict docks were still only half-lit, despite the ongoing halfhearted efforts to revitalize them. Ruined buildings and rubble dotted the landscape, yet only a few cranes and construction sites could be seen.
This was a city that had almost been given up. There was little beauty or hope left here.
Narwhal clenched her fists as she looked over the skyline from her vantage above the hills to the west. The homesickness rose up in her like a surge of bile. She missed the Guild, and the Toronto Protectorate. But she knew herself well enough to know that going back wouldn't fix anything.
Home wasn't the place, after all. It was the people.
The tinkertech pager she kept strapped to her wrist like a watch let out a tinny chime. It was Chevalier, she saw as she glanced down.
Where are you?
"I went flying," she murmured into it, and tapped the screen to send the message.
Chevalier's response came almost immediately.
We need you back here. Shadow Stalker found something.
She sighed and whispered, "I'm coming," before diving earthward.
She flew low as she came in towards the city, trying to mask the light of her luminous scales in the trees and underbrush.
It wasn't long before she found her stashed clothes. She had to force herself to turn off the forcefields covering her, plunging the forest into darkness. Changing took only a few moments, and then her flashlight was on and darting around the little clearing.
A fox's eyes glittered as they reflected the light. Other than that, there was no sign of life.
A couple of forcefields around her legs and forearm allowed her to fly the rest of the way to her car. Her clothes scratched and irritated her skin as they billowed around her, and she had to fight down the urge to tear them off.
It's not for much longer, she told herself.
I just have to get to the base, and then I can change.
Her forcefields were incredibly versatile. She could shape them, move them, twist them however she liked. But one thing remained constant—their edges were always razor-sharp. She couldn't cut herself, but her clothes weren't so lucky. Even if she tried melding it into one connected field which covered most of her body—which she had done, once, and it made moving very difficult—the edges of that field would shear through her clothes like butter.
The drive was uneventful, despite her scratching. There were a lot more cars leaving the city than entering it, and traffic on the way in was gentle. She took a few back roads, taking a circuitous route in an attempt to lose any tail, and then pulled up to the old warehouse.
Someone had tagged the wall of the building next door, a derelict office building. The red paint formed a single eye, and beneath it the words
SHE IS WATCHING. Narwhal gritted her teeth as she fought the urge to tear down the wall where the graffiti had been sprayed. Then she forced herself to look away and pull the car into the garage.
As she passed the threshold, the sound of Armsmaster's nanoforge at work filled her ears. She parked, shut the garage door behind her, and dashed for the bathroom.
A few moments later, she emerged, her clothes bundled under her arm, her scales and horn back in place. "Chevalier!" she called out, her voice echoing in the warehouse.
There was no response, so she glided over to the sound of Armsmaster's forging, reveling in the return of her flight. The Tinker was hunched over a computer, his blue armor dented and dusty. His helmet was off, and his face was pale and drawn. Narwhal had been in the Bay for almost a week now, and she hadn't seen him leave this warehouse once in that time.
"Armsmaster," she said. "Have you seen Chevalier?"
He glanced up at her, blinking. "Chevalier? No. I thought he went with Shadow Stalker?"
"He told me she found something," Narwhal said. She shrugged. "I'll just page him. What are you working on now?"
"HUD upgrades," said Armsmaster promptly, looking back down at the computer. "Dragon's always been in charge of coordinating major operations. She knows how to break a group structurally. I'm working on ways to mitigate that. That means keeping track of everyone in the field, and having secure, reliable lines of communication."
Narwhal bit her lip. "Do you really think she'd…?"
"I don't know," said Armsmaster evenly, without looking at her. "Until I do, I'm going to help in the only way I know how."
Narwhal nodded, even though he wasn't looking at her. "I understand," she said gently. "I—"
The pager chimed again. Chevalier's message was brief.
Two blocks west. Possible combat.
Narwhal's eyes narrowed. "I've got to go," she said. "Something's happening."
"Good luck," said Armsmaster, still not looking at her. "Let me know if you need me."
Narwhal twisted in the air and sped out of the warehouse.
Chevalier was in an alleyway, his silver and gold armor bright in the moonlight. His sword was out, but held loosely at his side. Across from him were two women. One wore a skintight purple suit and domino mask. There was a slight smirk on her lips, a hint of 'I know something you don't know' that set Narwhal on edge immediately. The other was slightly androgynous, and wore a purple and gold jester's costume, with a white smiling mask on her face.
Narwhal landed beside Chevalier. "What's happening?" she asked.
He gave her a sidelong look. "Thanks for coming," he said.
"Not that it was necessary," said the girl in purple dryly. "We just wanted to talk."
"Who are you?" Narwhal asked.
"Tattletale," said the girl in purple. "And this is Circus. We're with Faultline's Crew."
"The mercenaries."
"That's us," Tattletale nodded. "We're not your enemies, Narwhal."
"And I'm supposed to just take your word for that?"
"Of course not." Tattletale sounded amused. "That's why we're here. Call it a peace offering."
"We're listening," said Chevalier flatly. "Talk."
"Annatar's made an alliance with Coil," Tattletale said. "He works for her now."
Narwhal found herself scowling. "Really? She's working with a villain now?"
"You're not surprised," Tattletale said dryly.
"No. Just disappointed."
And worried about Dragon.
"We knew Annatar was willing to go to serious lengths," said Chevalier. "I don't see how this changes our plans."
"I do."
Tattletale whirled around. Narwhal blinked.
Shadow Stalker stepped out of the dark behind the two mercenaries, her crossbows out and raised, but not pointing at anything in particular.
"Shadow Stalker," said Chevalier. "I thought you were on the other side of town?"
"I was," said Shadow Stalker. "I came back."
"You're a spooky one, aren't you?" said Tattletale. Her voice sounded calm and smooth, but there was a faint shudder that she wasn't hiding perfectly.
"Thanks," said Shadow Stalker, pushing past the mercenaries without looking at them. "Coil has a Ring of Power. If Annatar's working with him, that means she's willing to use her Rings to control people."
Narwhal's eyes widened. "Then that means—"
"It means I'm working on borrowed time," said Shadow Stalker grimly. "But it also means we've got a target."
"We can help," said Circus immediately. Tattletale elbowed her.
"What Circus
means," she said, "is that we can tell you a lot about Coil, his powers, and the capes working for him.
We are leaving town. Faultline's pulling out. Annatar's too dangerous, and she has a business to look after."
"Then talk," said Shadow Stalker flatly, turning back to the mercenaries from her spot in the middle of the alley. "What does Coil have?"
"His power lets him split reality into two timelines," Tattletale explained. "He does one thing in one, and another thing in the other. He likes to pass it off as "probability control" by doing a trick with a coin flip."
Shadow Stalker nodded. "Hell of a power," she said, almost sounding appreciative. "Who else has he got?"
"The Travelers are working for him, but you knew that," said Tattletale. "Do you know their roster?"
Shadow Stalker shook her head. "We're familiar with Trickster," she said, almost spitting the name out. "And we know the names of the others—Sundancer, Genesis, and Ballistic. We know the basics of their powers, but not too many specifics."
"I'm not an encyclopedia," said Tattletale, "but I can tell you you're wrong about Genesis. She's a master, not a changer. Her shapes are projections."
Shadow Stalker nodded. "Right. We'll look for the controller."
"I can give you a better idea," Tattletale said. "The team is in shambles right now. Trickster is the leader, but he's lost his mind. Trying to split them might work." She sighed. "I wish I knew more, but all of this is secondhand. There's another member of their team, and they're only in the Bay because Coil promised to help her."
Shadow Stalker was silent for a moment. "There are worse reasons to work for someone like that," she said at last. Her voice was muted and a little sad.
Tattletale twitched. "Sure, fine," she said, and there was an edge to her voice. "There's also Bitch, my old teammate. You know her?"
"Dog master. Yeah. She works for him?"
"Never stopped. The Undersiders were on his payroll."
Shadow Stalker cocked her head. "Then why are you here?"
"I never even
wanted to work for him," said Tattletale coldly. "The bastard put a gun to my head. I hope you can take him out."
Shadow Stalker didn't respond for a moment, and when she did, all she said was "Is that all he has?"
"Nope. There's also a preteen precog who he kidnapped and keeps drugged in his basement." Tattletale's smile became a little brittle. "I
wish I was joking."
"And you worked for this guy?" Shadow Stalker asked.
"In my defense," said Tattletale, "he didn't have her then."
"I left when he took her," Circus volunteered.
"Right," said Shadow Stalker. Narwhal could practically hear her eyes rolling. "Anything else?"
"No more capes," Tattletale replied. "Coil's got a bunch of trained mercenaries, though. Ex-military from around the world. Who knows?" She quirked her lips in Narwhal's direction. "He might have someone you know."
Narwhal's hands clenched into fists, and forcefields spawned like blades in the air around her. "What do you—"
"No," Shadow Stalker interrupted, turning back towards the heroes. Her voice was hard. "Tattletale gets off on driving people up the wall. Just ignore her. She's a thinker—it doesn't mean she knows your identity."
"Doesn't mean I don't, either, Hess!" Tattletale said, smug satisfaction dripping like syrup from her voice.
Shadow Stalker glanced back. "I'm really pent-up right now, Tattletale," she said grimly. "You want to see what'll happen if you keep winding me up?"
Tattletale smiled sweetly. "Nah. That was all I had. Tell the new guy I said hi?"
"No. Later." Shadow Stalker turned and walked over to Chevalier and Narwhal. "Sorry about her," she said dryly. "I think she likes to feel important."
"You know her?" Chevalier asked.
"We've fought a couple times," said the former Ward with a shrug. "She tried to pick a thinker fight with Annatar once, while I was there. It didn't go well. She's bitter." She sighed. "Let's get back to base. We need to talk about this."
Once she thought they were safely out of earshot, Narwhal spoke up. "So, you think we should go after Coil?"
Shadow Stalker nodded. "He's one of the worst things in the Bay, and she won't go after him while he works for her," she said. "That means we have to pick up the slack."
"Tattletale mentioned a new guy," Chevalier said. "What was she talking about?"
Shadow Stalker looked up at the sky. "Huh, what do you know?" she said. "He actually left. I got a recruit; he's waiting for us at base."
"Who?" Narwhal asked.
"Shielder," Shadow Stalker replied. "One of New Wave, Lady Photon's son."
They reached the door and Shadow Stalker led them into the warehouse.
There was a young man inside. He wore a white costume with blue highlights, and a blue visor. "Oh, good, you're back," he said, his relief audible. "What happened?"
"Tattletale wanted to give us some intel," said Shadow Stalker, walking past him. "Come on, we all need to talk. That includes Armsmaster."
The Tinker was still hunched over his computer when they reached him. "Colin," Sophia said. "You got a minute?"
Armsmaster stood up and stretched. "Sure," he said, turning to her. "What's going on?" He saw Shielder. "New recruit?"
Shielder nodded. "I—yeah."
"What brought you here?"
Shielder looked down. "It's… a long story," he said quietly.
"And we don't need to know," said Shadow Stalker firmly. "You're welcome here as long as you're willing to try to be a hero. Just do your best."
Shielder nodded firmly. "Yeah. That's the plan."
"Good," said Chevalier. "Now, Colin, we heard from Tattletale that Coil is working for Annatar now."
Colin grimaced. "Great," he said. "Fantastic. He has Narya, doesn't he?"
"Probably," Shadow Stalker said. "Which may make me a liability, in the long run. I'm sure she has a way to turn it against me like she turned Narya against Coil, and in her state of mind, I think she'd use it."
"No, not a liability," said Armsmaster firmly. "But we'll need to be careful, going forward. If necessary, you may have to take off your Ring. Possibly permanently."
Shadow Stalker looked down at her hands, rubbing her fingers together nervously. "I know," she murmured. "I treasure this Ring. I treasure everything Annatar gave me. But if I have to let it go, I will."
"Let's hope that doesn't become necessary," Armsmaster said, almost gently. "What's our plan now?"
Shadow Stalker looked back up at him. "We have to get to work. Annatar's only getting more powerful. Coil's a problem, but he's also an opportunity. We can hit him
hard. He's not a hero by
any definition."
"And that'll weaken Annatar," said Shielder. "It's a start."
Narwhal nodded. "Breaking down Annatar's power base will be a big step towards taking back the city."
And Dragon, she added privately.
"Taking back the city?" Shadow Stalker's voice was odd—there was a warning hint to her voice. "What do you think we're doing here, Narwhal?"
Narwhal frowned at the girl. "…Fighting back against Annatar? Trying to free Dragon and the others from her?"
Shadow Stalker watched her for a moment before turning away and walking away from the group. She pulled off her mask and set it gently on Armsmaster's workbench.
"If we try to fight Annatar directly," she said quietly, "we won't win."
"If we take out Coil first—" Narwhal began, but Shadow Stalker interrupted.
"Then she'll still have Dragon, Alexandria, and the Chief Director of the PRT. And the entire local PRT and Protectorate." She turned back. Her green eyes glittered. She was smiling. "That's okay. We don't
want to take her down. We don't
want to kill or imprison her."
"Why
not?" The words escaped Narwhal's mouth unbidden as an angry growl. "After everything she's done? After Dragon?"
"Because she's a hero," said Shadow Stalker, her voice clear and confident. "They're all heroes. Killing or jailing even one of them would be a tragedy. If we lose all of them? There won't be much left standing after a fight like that, and there won't be anyone left to pick up the pieces. We can't afford to lose them. We
have to save them. To bring them back."
"So what are we supposed to do?" asked Shielder. He sounded frustrated, tired. "We can't afford to fight her, but what do we do instead? Coil's a start, but he's
only a start. That's not a whole plan."
"No." Shadow Stalker smiled. It wasn't a hard expression, stiff with determination. "Of course we'll fight. We
will stop her. But we're not fighting people who are evil, we're fighting people who are
wrong. They've bought into an ideal, and it's led them astray." Her expression turned sheepish. "I was there, not so long ago. Annatar pulled me back. I
know she knew better once. But now she's fallen herself."
Narwhal gritted her teeth. The name on Shadow Stalker's lips was
Annatar, but she couldn't help mentally replacing it with
Dragon.
"That ideal is that the strong can rule over the weak. That killing the enemy is a victory and not a loss, and that justice comes when the good guys are stronger." The anger in her voice mixed with a deep, cold sadness. "And that's why
we can't fall to that ideal, too. It's why we have to stay heroes. Because if we fall too... we'd lose, sure, but it wouldn't matter even if we'd win."
"We can't win this with ideals alone," said Chevalier quietly. "I agree with you, Shadow Stalker. I do. But we need more than ideals to get through this."
"We have more than ideals," said Shadow Stalker. "We can
live those ideals. That's a lot more. Annatar's doing things she knows are wrong, and she's doing it because she feels she has to. What we need to do is show her that she doesn't."
"So we're just… hoping that she'll realize she's lost her mind?" Narwhal asked. "Doesn't sound like a great plan."
"Do you have a better one?" Armsmaster asked suddenly. She turned to him. His jaw was set. "Do you have a better way to help these people we care about?"
Narwhal gritted her teeth. "If we kill Annatar—"
"Not an option," said Shadow Stalker flatly.
"Agreed," said Armsmaster, nodding at her. "Sorry, Narwhal. Even if we had a chance at winning that, it would be
wrong. We're supposed to be heroes."
"She's a warlord," Narwhal stressed. "I know warlords. She may have started as a good person, but you don't hold this kind of power for long before it goes to your head."
"Annatar had this kind of power as long as I knew her," Shadow Stalker said quietly. "The only reason I didn't see that sooner is because she wasn't that kind of person. She's not in this for the power, Narwhal. She's like Dragon—she's doing this because she's hurting and desperate."
She's like Dragon. Narwhal looked away.
"Please," Armsmaster said. "Trust us."
Narwhal swallowed and looked back at her allies. "Okay," she said. "We'll do it your way. What's our plan for Coil?"
Shadow Stalker smiled. "Here's where it gets fun."
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