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Security! (a Worm SI story)

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Part Forty-Seven: Unwelcome Revelations
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    • Security!

    Chapter Forty-Seven: Unwelcome Revelations

    Friday, April 29, 2011

    Emily

    "Director?"

    Piggot turned her head slightly; Deputy Director Renick was leaning toward her just a little, his voice barely audible.

    "Yes, Paul?" she replied, her own voice equally quiet; instinctively, she checked to make sure that the microphones were off. It probably wouldn't have mattered; Alexandria's voice, rolling from the speakers, held everyone's attention. Emily had tuned the speech out; it was heavy on phrases such as 'capes standing shoulder to shoulder' and 'historic gathering', while being light on actual content.

    "Is it just me or do you feel kind of outnumbered as well?"

    "I've been the PRT Director in this city for ten years, Paul," she reminded him. "There hasn't been a week when I haven't felt outnumbered at one point or another."

    "Oh. Yeah."

    But he had a point. She looked around the room in which she and Renick were seated. It was the largest auditorium in the PRT building – it had been an absolute pain to get it security-sealed to her liking – and within it, facing her and the stage, was the largest assemblage of capes that she had ever personally attended. She had seen larger, of course – Endbringer battles routinely brought together hundreds of capes – but this was the biggest gathering of parahuman talent that she had ever been a part of. Worse, these weren't all heroes. Some, she suspected, weren't even from Earth Bet.

    However, there were some familiar faces in the crowd; the local Protectorate and Wards teams were represented, as well as Brockton Bay's homegrown hero team. They seemed to be busily conversing among themselves; she wondered what they were talking about.

    =///=​

    Paige

    "Hey, Canary, right?"

    Paige looked around at the masked man; he was offering his hand to shake. She took it. "Actually, my callsign's Tweety Bird, so I don't know if that's my cape name now or what. You're Assault, yes?"

    "That's me," he declared. "Gotta say, you've made a bit of a name for yourself among those in the know. Calming down the crowds during the gang war, helping save Mayor Christner's wife and kids. That's pretty badass."

    "Not as badass as the people who actually went in there and did the job," she replied, although she smiled at the compliment. "I'm just glad you're giving me the chance to prove that I'm not a villain."

    "Well hey, if anyone's gonna champion the right of someone to prove they can do the right thing, it'd be me, right honey?" he asked, half-turning his head to address the woman sitting on the other side of him; Paige recognised her as Battery, mainly from the circuit-board patterns on her costume.

    "If by 'champion the right' you mean 'never shut up about it', yes, you have it about right, sweetie," Battery replied, though her tone was more amused than cutting. "It's nice to meet you, Canary, or Tweety Bird, whichever you prefer."

    "Call me Paige. I was pretty well outed by the trial anyway." She offered her hand to Battery, who shook it.

    "Yeah, that would have sucked." The young man in the lion-faced helmet beyond Battery leaned forward. "I heard about what you did for, uh, Mrs Christner and the others. You did good. You did really good."

    "Uh, thanks." She looked down the row of seats. "Um, just out of curiosity, you appear to be missing a member. I recognise Armsmaster and Miss Militia and Velocity, but … "

    "Dauntless volunteered for monitor duty," Assault informed her. "Rules say that someone's gotta be. So he'll get briefed-in later."

    "Oh," she responded. "Okay, that's kind of a relief. I was worried that I'd stolen someone's seat."

    "No, you're fine," Battery assured her. "If you're on the guest list, you're supposed to be here."

    "Oh, good." Paige sighed and leaned back in her seat. "For a moment there," she confided to Joe, "I was a little concerned."

    "Trust me, Paige," he replied, "you're not the only person feeling a little out of place here tonight."

    =///=​

    Lily

    "So, uh, Flechette, have you ever been to Brockton Bay before?"

    "Not as such, no." Lily checked to make sure that her arbalest wasn't about to fall over on to the floor, then paid more attention to Clockblocker. "To be honest, I'm not even sure why I am here."

    "You're experienced, and you've got a ranged attack ability with a fair degree of flexibility, is my guess," Aegis told her; he was sitting beside Canary's PRT guard, with Clockblocker and Kid Win beside him and Lily. "Shadow Stalker was a good Breaker/Stranger/Mover mix, but she had other problems -"

    "- such as being totally batshit psycho," Clockblocker added. "Even Gallant would agree, if he wasn't watching the console, and he's the nice one in the team."

    Aegis frowned, but didn't correct the irreverent cape. "As I was saying, we lost Shadow Stalker but since then we've gained an influx of really new capes, so the more experienced boots on the ground to give them pointers, the better."

    "Especially Kid Win and Clockblocker," Vista agreed cheerfully from beside Lily. "I've been a cape longer than the both of them."

    This struck Lily as being more than a little incongruous, given that the boys looked to be two or three years older than the green-and-teal-clad girl. They both spoke out in protest; she grinned impishly back at them. "Well, it's true."

    Before Lily could comment on the matter, Browbeat spoke up, from the other side of Vista. "I could probably do with some pointers too. But I think Aegis was mainly talking about Weaver and Golem."

    "What about Weaver and Golem?" asked Weaver from farther down the row of seats again.

    "Aegis was just saying I've been brought in to help get you guys up to speed," Flechette told the girl in the bug-themed costume. "Though you're the one who took down Lung, right? I probably haven't got much to teach you."

    Weaver shrugged. "Hey, I'm always willing to learn something new."

    =///=​

    Amy

    "Ames! When did you get here?"

    Amy looked around from where Taylor was talking to Flechette; Vicky was hovering cross-legged over the seats. "Uh, a little while ago," she replied. "Are you alone, or are Mark and Carol here too?"

    Vicky frowned slightly. "Mom and Dad are here, yeah. The whole team is. Did you want to come sit with?"

    "They're your mom and dad, Vicky," Amy replied without heat. "I'm grateful to them for taking me in, but you're the only one who really treated me as family, okay? So if it's all right with you, I'll be hanging with Weaver for the time being."

    "They want to know when you're coming back to the team," Vicky protested. "You're a part of New Wave. You just can't walk away."

    "Actually, yeah, I can," Amy replied, still not at all fazed by Vicky's manner. "You guys don't own me. I don't owe you anything, not really. I'm sixteen, so I actually can leave home if I want. And I'm beginning to think that's exactly what I want."

    "But where will you go?"

    Amy shrugged. "I don't have to go anywhere. I'm staying with my awesome bestie. She and her dad give me more family time and acceptance than I've ever gotten before. The PRT's talking about giving me a living allowance to stay there full-time. I mean, I'll come and visit, but I'd be an idiot to say no."

    "So you're not coming home ... ?"

    "Vicky. I am home. Where I am, there's no pressure on me. We connect as people, as a family, not just as superheroes. Her dad took us to the movies the other day. He told dad jokes. When was the last time Mark did any of that?"

    =///=​

    Victoria

    "Ouch," observed the blonde girl beside Amy. "Burn."

    "Excuse me?" asked Vicky, staring at the girl, who she figured to be about eleven or twelve. "Who are you again?" She looks kind of familiar, but I just can't place her. "And what are you even doing in here?"

    "Here for the conference, G-girl," the middle-schooler replied cheerfully. "Why, are you lost or something?"

    "Hey now, Riley," the teenage boy on the other side of the blonde cut in. He was on the chunky side, wearing a costume in browns and greys, with odd plates of metal and other materials attached to his belt and forearms. A blocky visored helmet covered most of his head, but left his mouth free. "Be nice. You did say that you'd behave."

    "Yeah, okay, sorry," the girl replied. Her sharp eyes never wavered from Vicky's. Offering her hand, she went on. "Hi, I'm Riley. Recovering supervillain. Mike says I'm coming along fine."

    "Recovering supervi- holy shit, you're Bonesaw!" Vicky recoiled from the proffered hand, as if it were a poisonous snake. "What the hell are you doing here? What the hell are you doing alive?"

    "Ask Mike," Riley replied. "He's the only reason I'm here and alive. And don't worry, I've been rendered harmless. Big sis Amy checked me out before they let me out of the cell this time."

    Amy shook her head. "Seriously, Riley. I am not your big sister."

    "But you totally could be," insisted Riley. "We both fix people." Her gaze dropped. "I'm gonna have to do a lot of fixing people before I ever make up for the other stuff I've done."

    Amy nodded. "You're right. But you know something? I've got faith in you to get there. Just like Mike's got faith in you."

    Vicky shook her head. "Ames, no. Seriously. She's a supervillain. She's killed people. Lots of people."

    The woman on the other side of Golem, a petite brunette wearing a costume unfamiliar to Vicky, cleared her throat. "Uh, that's not a unique situation around here right now, Glory Girl. Sometimes it's just a matter of making the wrong choice at the wrong moment. Getting that second chance, coming back from where you've been, that's the tough one."

    "Uh, I'm sorry. " Vicky frowned. "I don't think I know you."

    The woman extended her hand. "Evenstar. I'm based in New York, with Legend's team."

    "Huh, okay." Vicky shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you. But you were saying about second chances?"

    Evenstar smiled, a little sadly. "Let's just say that becoming a supervillain isn't necessarily a matter of choice, but of chance. And getting a second chance can be the miracle of a lifetime."

    "Amen, sister," Tattletale put in from beside Evenstar. "You never said a truer word. Though you do know there's some villains up there behind us trying to get your attention, right?"

    "Yes, I know," Evenstar replied. "I'm ignoring them."

    =///=​

    Max

    "But she knows we're here. Why isn't she looking our way?"

    Kaiser sighed. "Rune, please stop waving at her," he advised. "Kayden has made it absolutely clear that she wants no part of the Empire Eighty-Eight. She was even willing to step in to defend Security. She can ignore us all night if she wishes."

    "I can't believe that she's actually pretending to be a hero now." That was Crusader. "They say she's working with that fa- with Legend, in New York."

    "Keep your voice down," Kaiser warned him. "Whatever his orientation, he can kick your ass without moving from his seat. We very seriously do not want to upset him, or Alexandria, or Eidolon."

    "Me, I'm surprised you're not more pissed that your kid's in the Wards," Hookwolf commented from where he was sitting on the other side of Crusader. "And he's taken that Jew name. That's a slap in the face, right there."

    Kaiser smiled faintly. "I'm a little disappointed, yes. But on the other hand, he triggered to defend my daughter. And he was holding off the Boston PRT and Protectorate both before Legend and Kayden got there. He's tougher than either one of us thought he could be. In time, if he's a true Anders, he'll realise where his path lies."

    "And maybe he won't," Victor suggested. "Maybe he'll decide that he actually wants to be a hero. What then?"

    "Well, only an idiot would draft an unwilling cape as leader for an organisation as strong as the Empire Eighty-Eight," Kaiser pointed out. "But I have faith in my powers of persuasion. After all, I raised the boy. I know how he thinks."

    "What if his time in the Wards changes the way he thinks?" asked Stormtiger. "It could be that he might decide to take you on."

    "It will never come to that," Kaiser stated confidently. "The boy's never been able to challenge my authority. Being in the Wards isn't going to change that."

    =///=​

    Emily

    One of the capes Emily suspected to be from offworld, a woman in the front row dressed in elaborate blue robes, spoke to a man sitting beside her. With Alexandria still speaking, Emily couldn't quite hear the words, but she got the distinct impression that the language was not English; the woman was not somebody she recognised from her files. The man, in turn, placed a strangely-contoured device to his mouth and pressed a button on his desk. This caused a light to glow on the board before the Director; after pressing the button, he also raised his hand so as to be doubly sure of getting her attention. Noticing the byplay, Alexandria wrapped up her speech; Piggot clicked on the light, activating the man's desk mic.

    "Excusing myself," the device stated in mechanical tones, "but whenever was this conference to commence? It is the time, and past, and Her Excellency has business of urgent moment to attend."

    The words boomed through the room, and heads began to nod. It was barely three minutes past seven, but the vast majority of those assembled in this room were unused to having to await another's pleasure.

    Emily opened her mouth, but Alexandria spoke first; along with her colleagues, the Triumvirate hero was also seated up on stage, farther along the same long desk. "We beg your indulgence for just a few more moments," she stated smoothly. "It will be worth the wait." Unseen by those sitting in the auditorium, her hand moved over the keyboard before her; Emily read the message on her own screen.

    Where is he?

    Casually, Emily let her hand fall on her own keyboard. With minimal movements, she typed a return message. Don't know. Said he would be here.

    Another back-and-forth in that alien language, between the woman in blue and her ... retainer? The man spoke once more. "Her Excellency will await longer just two of the minutes. Then depart."

    Emily activated her own mic. "We will begin before then."

    God, I hope so, she prayed. There would be no way in hell that this sort of conference could be attempted again, if the first one fell through. Where the hell is he?

    As well as the locals, villains and heroes from other cities had attended; there were also those from other nations. Narwhal sat alongside a humanoid Dragon suit, along with several other Guild members. From farther afield was a dishevelled-looking man in opulent robes gesticulating as he spoke to his companions. These ones sent glares toward another section of capes, who apparently returned the animosity. Only the utmost gravity of the situation, she was fairly sure, was keeping the peace at this moment.

    The woman in blue was not the only outworlder, she was sure; looking over the crowd, she picked out others whom she had never seen before, some with rather outlandish costumes, and some who eschewed costumes for what might be ordinary clothes where they came from.

    The time had nearly reached five past seven; restlessness was starting to spread. Some conversations were beginning to become arguments. Maybe I'd better start talking, tell them what I know -

    A tone sounded from her board, and she switched her mic over; it was the detail on the door to the auditorium. "Yes?"

    "We have someone claiming to be Security, ma'am. He has four people with him. Two are dressed like capes."

    Hitting keys rapidly, she pulled a view from the security camera. "That's him, all right. Let them in."

    "Ma'am."

    =///=​

    Mike

    I had Cody over my shoulder; he was coming around from the painkillers with which he'd been dosed, but I could tell he was still fairly loopy.

    "Did you have to break his arms in so many places?" asked Noelle as we hustled down the corridor. "Once should've been enough, surely."

    "With Cody?" asked Ballistic. "Probably not. He never could take a hint."

    "Hey, being shot hurts, all right? Subdermal armour or no subdermal armour." I added, gingerly touching the dressing above my right eye. "Especially in the forehead. Yeah, I might have gone overboard a little bit, but it would have been better than breaking his neck; his power can save a lot of lives, used right."

    "Yeah, but that meant you had to get his arms set and secured," Trickster huffed from the other side. "Now we're late."

    "Only by a few minutes," I told them. "That's the door there."

    My instruction was unnecessary; the door had no less than four PRT guards on it. They turned to face us as we approached.

    "Stop where you are," one of them ordered, taking a few steps toward us. "Identify yourselves."

    "I'm Security," I told him. "I'm the keynote speaker in there, and if you don't let us in, right the fuck now, there's gonna be no conference."

    "Who's that?" he asked, pointing at Cody. "Is he injured?"

    "Hell yes, he's injured," I snapped. "I had to break his arms after he shot me. He's coming in with me, and so are the others. Now, you've got three choices. You let us walk in, we walk in over the top of you, or we go around you."

    The guard held up a finger, and began a muffled conversation inside his helmet. Then he nodded to me, and stepped back. "Okay, you can go on in."

    They opened the doors, and we walked in; just a few paces inside, I stopped short. Trickster, Noelle and Ballistic moved past me as I tried not to gape at how many capes there were in the auditorium. It was a big room. Really big. But it seemed filled to capacity, and nearly all of them were capes. Some even wore capes.

    "Ladies and gentlemen." It was Emily Piggot on the PA system. "Allow me to introduce Michael Allen, better known as Security. He will be addressing you tonight on the urgent matter facing us."

    "Yay," I muttered, unloading Cody from my shoulder, and plonking him into an empty chair in the front row. I nodded to the strange capes observing me as I did so, fully aware that the other Travellers had split up to find seats. Cody seemed to be tracking a little better now; I snapped my fingers before his face, and his eyes focused.

    "Okay, listen up," I murmured for his ears alone. "Play any bullshit tricks like that again, and you'll wish I only broke your arms." Turning, I headed up on to the stage, behind the long desk. There were six seats behind that desk, which I now saw had a microphone and an electronic console for each seat.

    The rightmost three seats were occupied by Alexandria, Legend and Eidolon; two more were being used by Director Piggot and Deputy Director Renick. One chair was left; by a process of elimination, that chair was mine. Where I would sit and address a bunch of capes about a threat that they had never even considered before. No pressure, now.

    =///=​

    Emily

    With a sigh, he sat down, the seat compressing beneath his weight. This close, she saw that he had a bruise on his cheek, and a dressing above one eye to complement the one on his arm. His clothing was rumpled, and there was a small bloodstain low on the right side of his chest.

    Turning her mic off, she leaned over to him. "Are you all right?"

    "Yeah, should be," he muttered. "Dickhead there decided to get free and easy with a firearm. After I explained my displeasure, I had to find someplace to get his arms seen to."

    "I see. Well, you're five minutes late. I think they're waiting for you to say something."

    "And me without my prepared speech." He searched the area before him. "How do I turn on the microphone?"

    "Button there, marked 'MIC'," she explained. "Haven't you spoken in public before?"

    "Nope." His eyes scanned the crowd. "Fuck me, that's a lot of spandex."

    "I can introduce you if you like -"

    "Nope, got it." He took a deep breath and pressed the button; his words rolled out over the auditorium. "Hey there. My name's Security. Thanks for showing up. Now for an important message." He held it for a beat. "You're all gonna die."

    That got their attention; people previously lounging in their seats were now sitting upright, their expressions ranging from shock to anger. Nor was Emily too thrilled; I've been doing my best to keep things calm, and he has the idiocy to come out with that?

    He let the rising hubbub mount for a few seconds, before he spoke again. "You're gonna die unless, and only unless, you listen good and hard to what I've got to say. It's no exaggeration that what I've got to tell you tonight is the most important thing you'll ever hear. Without exception."

    Lights were coming up on the board now; dozens, hundreds, of people wanting to ask questions. She glanced sideways at him. "Take a question?" she mouthed. He nodded; she pressed one at random.

    "What is this great threat?" She couldn't see who was asking the question. "What could kill all of us here?"

    "Well, an Endbringer, for one thing," he replied. "But more specifically, in this instance? Zion. Or, as most of you know him, Scion." He nodded to Emily, and she tapped a few keys on her keyboard. On the huge screen behind him was projected image after image of the golden-skinned man, interspersed with videos of him stilling tidal waves, battling Endbringers, quelling forest fires. Allen began to speak once more; Emily left the last image on the screen, frozen.

    "Those of you who know him, most of you anyway, see him as a great hero. And yeah, he's saved lives. Helped people. Chased off Endbringers. But it's all a big con. The biggest. He's not here to help you. He's pretending to be a superhero, but he's not even remotely human. That thing up there pretending to be a man, that's the answer to the biggest question that's ever been asked over the last thirty years." He paused for effect, then asked the question. "Where do powers come from?"

    Instant uproar. He let it happen, scanning the crowd once more. Again, people were putting up lights on the board, wanting to be heard. Emily went to click on one, but he was faster.

    "How can you call him anything but a hero?" asked a female voice with a middle-Eastern accent. "He saved my family's lives."

    Shouts of agreement resounded through the room, despite the sound baffles. Allen raised his hand; many of them quieted. "I'll call him that because it's true," he stated flatly. "I'm happy that he helped you, but you have to understand that he wasn't helping you because he felt sorry, or because he thought you deserved help. He needed to appear to be a hero, and your family was convenient."

    More shouting. Someone else asked a question. "If he's not a hero, then what is he?"

    "Okay, this is where it gets weird. His species is a kind of giant multidimensional space whale. Their life cycle involves finding a planet with a sentient population, and handing out powers. These are based in parts of themselves called 'shards' that they can detach, which are housed in their own pocket dimensions. When you trigger, the shard makes a connection with your brain. As you use your powers, and figure out more interesting and complex ways to use them, your shard records them, and you get better at using your powers. Anyone not following me so far?"

    They had quieted, and were listening intently. Only a few people wanted to speak; he clicked on one, apparently at random. "You speak as though this were a bad thing. With these powers, we can help people."

    "This is true," he agreed. "You can. The trouble is, because of the powers, there's a lot more people needing help. I'm going to say something now, and I want you to listen very carefully. Powers breed conflict, and conflict feeds powers. It's all about conflict. It's alwaysbeen about conflict."

    The next question that was asked was more thoughtful. "But surely there are powers that are not about conflict."

    "Really?" He sounded dubious. "Does anyone know of one? A naturally triggered power that isn't capable of causing conflict in some way? Anyone?"

    A lot of people looked around, but nobody spoke up to refute him; after a few moments, he kept talking. "Didn't think so. Okay then. The latter half of the life cycle is that after a period of time, he harvests the shards, all fat with experience, then he blows up the planet for energy, and moves on."

    The man next to the woman in blue had his hand raised; Emily clicked on him. "Her Excellency wishes to know of why she needs be here, if her world is in peril not?"

    "Oh, I'm sorry." His tone did not indicate sorrow. "Perhaps I wasn't specific enough. He blows up all versions of that world, all the dimensional variants. He's multidimensional; stepping from one world to another is as easy for him as walking through a door into another room. And if there's people on a world, if shards have managed to leak over, then it's ripe for harvesting."

    "How can we hope to fight him, if he can blow up planets?" That was from someone far back up in the auditorium.

    "Because he hasn't started harvesting shards yet. He needs to do that before he can get the power to really cut loose. It wasn't supposed to happen for another sixteen years, but something's going to trigger an attack from him in the next six to twelve months. So he's going to set out to wipe out humanity, and harvest all your shards by killing you. And then he'll blow up all the variant Earths, and go on his merry way. But we have a battle plan; if we can have it up and running before he decides to kick over the apocalypse, we can end him, and end the threat. Once and for all."

    The man in the opulent robes raised a hand; the board was indicating that he wished to speak, so Emily clicked on him. He took his time to ask his question; when he spoke, his voice was calm and measured. "You seem to be remarkably well-informed about these matters. I had never heard of them before."

    Allen glanced down very briefly, then smiled tightly. "I am well-informed about a great many things, Phir Sē of the Thanda. You have my sympathy for your wife and sons. Is your daughter here tonight?"

    Phir Sē, if that was his name, seemed jolted by the answer. "Yes, she is," he replied slowly. "How did you know about that?"

    "The same way that I know that you faced the hardest choice in the world; stop a monster, or save your loved ones. I don't know that I could make the choice that you did."

    Emily saw a message scroll across her screen. Where is he getting this from? My power's getting all sorts of weird readings from him, but he doesn't have powers, does he? - Chevalier.

    Wait and see. The best part's yet to come,     she typed back.

    Phir Sē was still talking. "That is not an answer. Where do you get this knowledge from?"

    "Where I get it from isn't the important part," replied Allen, "but if it'll make you happy, here goes." He drew a deep breath and Emily saw him cross his fingers behind the desk. "I'm not from around here."

    "That is not much of an answer," Phir Sē retorted. "Nor am I. And some of our guests, I suspect, are from other worlds. Are you one of those?"

    "No. Let me put it this way. You – and by that, I mean every one of you out there before me – are as far above a normal human as an adult man is above a newborn baby. Am I correct?"

    "You are." Phir Sē's tone was casual. He thinks he knows where this is going, Emily realised. "And you're saying that you're that much farther above us, is that it?"

    A shake of the head. "Again, no. Endbringers are that much higher than you. Zion is that much higher than any one Endbringer. I'm that much higher above Zion. I'm from outside your universe, your multiverse. I'm older than your universe. It was one of my kind who set all this, all you know, into being."

    Absolute pandemonium erupted. People were standing, screaming, waving their arms. Allen had not, Emily noticed, switched away from Phir Sē. The man in the opulent robes was not one of those standing and shouting; he was watching Allen appraisingly. Then he leaned forward to the microphone; due to whatever Tinkertech was in play, his voice cut through the din like a hot knife through butter.

    "If you are so all-powerful, then why do you need us? Why do you not simply destroy this false god?"

    Shouts of agreement arose; Allen waited them out. "Because I'm not all-powerful. This, who you're looking at, isn't the true me. A very close copy, yes, but one I created to insert into this reality. It took me no effort at all to arrange matters so that I had always been here. But I made certain that this version of me couldn't even trigger with powers."

    "That makes no sense at all," remarked Phir Sē. "Knowing what you were going to be facing, why would you not arrive with as much power at your disposal as possible?"

    "Oh, don't get me wrong," Allen assured him. "If I'd wanted to, I could have obliterated Zion at any moment before my arrival, or even after I got here, if I'd wanted to have that much power to play with in this universe. But I chose not to, and so I arrived with just one advantage. The knowledge of how everything was going to turn out, and all the important information about all the significant players."

    He clicked off of Phir Sē, and on to another person's blinking light. As it happened, this was Lung. "Why?" demanded the villain. "If you could have so much power, why would you hamper yourself so badly?"

    "Oh, that's an easy one," Allen replied. "It would've been altogether too boring, otherwise."

    He paused then, to pour a glass of water from the jug at hand. As he drank, Emily considered the content of his words. He hadn't mentioned either Cauldron or Eden as yet, and she wondered if he was going to. Too much detail, she decided. He's hitting the high notes. He wasn't precisely lying about matters; he was just telling them what they needed to know.

    Out in the audience, a lot of chatter was going on, and then a light sprang up on the board. He clicked on it.

    =///=​

    Max

    Kaiser smiled when the red light showed up on his microphone. Time to make the precious Security squirm just a little. "You make very bold claims. Can you back any of them up? For all we know, you're simply an ordinary man spinning an extraordinary story. You've very neatly tied up all the loose ends, after all."

    Up on stage, Max saw Director Piggot glare in his direction. She was about to speak, when Allen gestured her to silence.

    "I could be, yes," he agreed. "I don't suppose that you're willing to take the word of Director Piggot here beside me, or the members of the Triumvirate there?"

    Kaiser smiled silkily. "I might be; others may not. People can be fooled, after all. Even the Triumvirate."

    For a moment, he thought that he may have miscalculated, as Eidolon began to get up from his place at the desk; however, Legend urged his teammate to sit down once more. That done, the leader of the Protectorate activated his own microphone.

    "I think you underestimate us, Kaiser. Using our own abilities, we've been able to confirm much of what he says, and none of it has been actually shown as false. We now know far more about the nature of our foe, and how to beat him."

    Allen was leaning back in his chair, apparently relaxed. "And even if that isn't good enough for you, I've got two forms of proof. One's short term and one's long term. Long term is simple; Leviathan was due to hit this city in a little over two weeks, on the fifteenth. If I've done it right, he's not going to be attacking anywhere, ever again. Nor are the others."

    "That's all very well and good," Kaiser retorted. "But it still doesn't help us here and now. How are we to believe you right at this moment?" He knew that people were listening to him, taking his words in.

    Allen cleared his throat; when he spoke, his tone was light, amused. "Uh, you'll have to excuse Kaiser, ladies and gentlemen. I've had to put him in his place a few times, and he's feeling a little butt-hurt. I guess that this is the first chance he's had to get back at me."

    A wave of amusement rolled over the crowd, and Kaiser realised that Allen had snatched the initiative away from him. Before he could respond, the man spoke again. "But I can answer the question anyway. How many precogs here, or people with some sort of precognitive powers?"

    Hands started to go up here and there; at first a few, then more and more all over the room. "Okay, that's good," he noted. "Well then. Here's my point. I'm kind of projecting into this universe. What you're seeing is a tiny fraction of who and what I am. Precogs can't really get a line on me. Their power just slides off. So, which one of you can accurately predict what I'm going to be saying next, or even what I'm going to be doing next? Keep your hand up if you can."

    Time ticked by; five seconds, then ten. A few hands went down. Abruptly, he stood up. Half the hands went down at that point. Lacing his fingers on top of his closely-trimmed scalp, he turned in a complete circle. By the time he sat down, the rest of the hands had been withdrawn.

    "I believe I've made my point?" he suggested. "If every precog in the room has trouble seeing twenty seconds into the future when it comes to my actions, it's got to mean something."

    Kaiser knew that he was losing ground, but it was not in his nature to go down without a fight. "Precognitives also have trouble with Endbringers and Scion himself," he pointed out acidly. "Perhaps you're affiliated with one or the other of them."

    "Oh, for god's sake," snapped Allen. "I could also be dreaming this. You could be dreaming this. This could all be a scene in the mind of a novelist. But even if it was, would it really matter? I'm still here to help. To tell you that you're all needed to fight in the war. That if you don't fight, if you don't believe me, that each and every one of you is in deadly danger. And that danger will not be long in coming."

    His words echoed through the auditorium, followed by silence. Slowly, people began to applaud his words; the clapping spread throughout the auditorium, and Kaiser knew that he had lost the war of words. Slowly, he settled back into his seat, a sour look on his face under his metal mask.

    =///=​

    Emily

    Slowly, people began to converse between themselves. The man at the front, with the lady in blue, raised his hand. Allen clicked his number on the board.

    "Her Excellency recognises your words of meaning. She asks of your words previous regarding planning battle tactics strategy."

    "Now, that's the right question," he replied approvingly. "Now, kicking Zion's golden arse isn't going to be just a matter of hitting him hard enough. Quite literally, he's a Warrior. It's what his part of the … species, for want of a better word, is best at. If you haven't surprised him, you won't hit him. If you hit him once, then he knows how you got through his defences, and he won't be surprised a second time. Trying it a third time means that he'll be ready to counterattack, and quite likely take you all the way out."

    "So how are we supposed to fight him at all?" The question came from one of the capes in the middle of the room.

    "By mixing it up. Brute force, psychological attacks, pulling our people back out of the way, hammering him from one direction, then tag-teaming someone else in who fights totally differently. We're going to have our best minds – and I do mean our best minds – working out a branching strategy to adapt to the way he adapts to what we're doing."

    More lights on the board. Allen picked one, apparently at random. "Harassing him and playing it safe doesn't seem like a way to win a battle against someone like Scion. He beats Endbringers. Regularly."

    "Oh, there'll be an endgame," Allen assured the crowd. "We'll all be working toward it. Once the battle's gotten to a certain stage, then we hit him with the third part of the strategy. Getting to the part of him that's locked away in another dimension. His real body. But he's got to be worn down, kept off balance. Made angry. Not thinking straight. Once he's in that state, and only when he's in that state, do we bring the hammer down."

    More lights on the board. Allen glanced down, then selected one. Emily recognised Chevalier's voice. "You're banking a lot on the chance that we can make him angry."

    "Well, given that I know which buttons to press, it's not really a gamble," Allen replied cheerfully. "The trick will be keeping out of the way while we get him pissed enough for stage three to work."

    Lights were still popping up on the board; he looked down at it, then back at the audience. "Okay, let's do some questions." He clicked one of the lights.

    "We're going to be going out, fighting, and risking our lives, yes?" This was from one of the European capes; Emily couldn't tell if he was a hero or a villain.

    "That's the size of it, yes," he agreed. "I'm guessing that isn't the question."

    "No, it is not. You talk a good game, but by your own admission, you have no powers. What are you going to be doing while all this is happening? Staying safe at home with the planning committee while we go off and fight your war for you?"

    Allen placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward. "No. That's not what I'm going to be doing. You see, not so long ago, I spoke with a precognitive about my personal chances of surviving this war. And while she couldn't tell me what I'd be doing, she stated quite clearly that if I sat the war out, our side would lose, quite badly. But if I participated, we had a rather good chance of winning. There was just one problem."

    "Which is?"

    "If that happens, I die."

    =///=​

    Mike

    As a conversation-stopper, that was a reasonably good one. Some of the capes had been chatting to one another, while others appeared to be getting up and stretching. Following that little bombshell, all eyes were on me; if any weren't, I couldn't find them.

    Lights began popping up on the board; I checked the notes Contessa was leaving me, and selected the right one. "You're reasonably safe, though, right? Your body here dies, you just get to pop back to your higher plane."

    "Yeah, well, you'd think, and I kind of hope it works that way," I admitted. "In any case, I was kind of looking forward to helping clean up in the aftermath. Things you guys are gonna need to know about."

    Before anyone else could ask the next question, Director Piggot spoke up; she used her microphone so that everyone heard the question, but at the same time, she addressed me directly. "What sort of things do you mean?" You never mentioned the aftermath, her eyes accused me.

    "Ah yeah, it's to do with powers," I explained. "See, one of the things that Zion is doing properly right now is that when he hands out a shard to someone, he makes sure that the required secondary powers come along with it. Applying the Manton limit if necessary, making sure that a guy with fire powers isn't going to incinerate himself, that sort of thing. Once he's dead, there's no-one to do that any more; new powers are gonna become a lot more dangerous to the users. And to everyone else around them."

    That little bombshell provoked a storm of response; I picked a light out of the several that Contessa had okayed, and clicked it.

    "Do you mean to tell us that the Manton limit is artificial?"

    I shrugged. "Well, yeah. Think about it for a moment. Arbitrary as hell, specifically aimed to prevent you from either killing yourselves by accident or from being too powerful. Only follows very basic guidelines, can't be nailed down past that. Some capes don't have it, some manage to surpass it. A law of nature, it ain't."

    =///=​

    Emily

    She had thought herself beyond surprise; Michael Allen, she had assumed, was a known quantity. This particular revelation proved her wrong. As much as she wanted to laugh at the stunned looks on the faces of virtually every cape she could see, she herself was mentally reeling as her worldview shifted dramatically. What she had considered to be a basic underpinning of parahuman powers was just an artificially imposed rule.

    She was vaguely aware of another cape asking a question. "Earlier, you mentioned a link between shards and conflict. Surely it's not as simple as that. After all, we're thinking, intelligent human beings, right?"

    Allen snorted. "Hah. Yeah. Right. Ninety percent of the time, you only think you're thinking. The human brain makes most of the judgement calls below the level of consciousness, and leaves the forebrain the job of justifying our moronic actions after the fact. Shards plug themselves directly into the brain, via the corona pollentia and the gemma. When you get powers, your brain is rearranged. So are your priorities. Your entire personality can undergo a makeover. Most of the time, this involves more chance of ending up in a conflict situation. Also, the shards are alive, and they're thinking, in their own way. If they get the chance, they'll work to influence you toward exercising your powers more, which generally means pushing you toward conflict."

    "So what you're saying is that having powers, getting powers, makes us crazy?"

    "Not crazy as such; they just change the way you look at the world. Make you more likely to want to use your powers to fix what you see wrong with it. To a hammer, every problem's a nail and all that. But yes, some people are prone to going over the line, and getting powers can be the tipping point. Shards don't care about good or evil, about actions and consequences. They just want to be used. To be improved."

    Emily stared at him. With every word, he was answering the deep-down questions she had harboured for years.Why are capes so broken? Why does this shit just keep happening? It made so much sense. It all made so much sense.

    "I have trouble believing that. I have powers, but right now I don't feel any particular need to use them on anyone."

    "Sure," he agreed. "Right now, no. But can you imagine never using your powers again? Just walking away from them? Not gonna happen, right? Your powers want to be exercised, to be used in new and interesting ways. And you want to use them. The temptation becomes nearly irresistible. Tinkers and Thinkers have it worst, in a way; their powers are mentally based, so their powers bombard them day and night with either information or inspiration. In the end, it's almost impossible not to act on them." He paused for a moment. "But don't take my word for it. Any Tinkers or Thinkers out there got a different opinion on the matter?"

    While he waited, he poured another glass of water, and drank. Emily found that her throat was dry, and poured herself a cup as well. Renick leaned over to her; she checked to make sure her mic was off. "What?" she whispered.

    "Did you know any of this before?" he asked, just as quietly.

    "No. Did you?"

    "God, no. It makes so much sense."

    She shook her head, not in negation, but in wonder. "The number of times I've just wanted to bang their heads together … "

    "So many times I thought they were just being irresponsible."

    "Well, they were. But their powers, their shards, were whispering in their ears all the time."

    "Yes. I think -"

    He was cut off by a question from the audience. "Where do Endbringers fit in? Do they have particularly powerful shards that have driven them all the way over the edge, or something? And what have you done to ensure that they don't return?"

    =///=​

    David

    Eidolon froze. He was only vaguely aware of Legend's hand on his arm as he awaited Security's reply. The man despised and detested him, he was sure; knowing what his own insecurities had caused the people of the world to suffer through, year after year, attack after attack, some days he couldn't stand himself.

    It didn't help that he'd chosen not to take therapy at first, until Security had spelled out to Alexandria in careful detail exactly what would happen if they actually managed to kill an Endbringer. When Alexandria, in turn, laid down the law to him, he finally went ahead with it. And despite his initial doubts, he felt that he really was getting somewhere.

    Of course, Security could ruin him with a word, even now. And he wasn't entirely sure that he didn't deserve it.

    "Okay," began Security. "The first thing that you have to understand here is that the Endbringers are a mistake. They were never intended to be deployed in this way. They're a superweapon, created and controlled by a particular shard, with the intent to maintain conflict in a controlled manner. That shard was never intended to leave entity control, but due to a series of screwups, it ended up in gen pop. It's since been employed, without the person ever really knowing what it was about. Once I arrived here, I took measures. With luck, what I did will fix the problem. Has fixed the problem."

    David blinked. He's not … he's not crucifying me?

    "You're being very vague here." That was the cape who had originally asked the question.

    "Yes. I am. With good reason."

    "What did you do?"

    "Sorry, but that's one of the things I'm just going to have to be vague about."

    "The world's been ravaged for nearly twenty years by those monsters. Don't we deserve to know more about them?"

    "No. Seriously, no." David couldn't miss the impatient tone in Security's voice. "Don't you get it? The knowledge alone is dangerous. It's very much a 'need to know' situation."

    "All right, so who had the shard?"

    Oh shit. Here it comes.

    "That's something you definitely do not need to know. Just that the problem is under control."

    "As far as you know."

    "As far as I know, yes."

    "That's not particularly comforting."

    "A crapload better than 'definitely not under control, no sir', like it used to be, right?"

    "Very well. Whose control are they under? Yours?"

    "Hah. God, no. But they should be dormant now, or at least not about to cause problems."

    David sagged back against his chair. No. They won't. Not if I can help it.

    "Can we use them against Scion?" A wave of what he took to be agreement washed across the audience.

    "That's a distinct possibility. We'll have to see how that goes. For the moment, we're not factoring them in."

    "Can you tell us any more about them?"

    "Not right now, no."

    "Well, when?"

    The impatient tone was back. "When I decide that it's necessary. Now, let's get off this topic. You." He clicked on another light.

    =///=​

    Lisa

    "You say that you didn't make this universe." The new questioner sounded curious, and a little disbelieving. Lisa was less so; she was listening to the tone of Mike's voice, watching his posture, and she was starting to come to terms with the idea.

    "That's correct. I'm only visiting." Sounds true.

    "Can you tell us about ... well, about whoever it was that did?"

    A chuckle. "Sorry. I don't really know him. I just like what he's done here." True enough.

    "Won't he object that you're intruding on his creation? Making changes?"

    "Nah, he's cool with it. Besides, as soon as I arrived, this particular version split off as an alternate. It's the way this sort of thing goes." There's something he's not telling us.

    "So there's another world, another version of us, where this isn't happening?"

    "Hah. Not just one. There's the original, and then there's about a bazillion alternates apart from this one." Dammit, what is it that you're not saying?

    "And are you responsible for all of these alternates?"

    "Nope. Nowhere near. A few, yes, but not all that many in the grand scheme of things." Holy shit, he's done this     before?

    "So have you done this in your other alternates as well?"

    "Not really. This is the first time I've actually stepped into a universe personally, to be honest. Up till now, I've just meddled from the outside. It's how most of us do it." Argh, there's something deeper here. I just can't pick it.

    "So what's life like on these other alternates?"

    "Sometimes shitty, sometimes good, sometimes bizarre. I'm not going to go into more detail because ... well, reasons." Something you really don't want to talk about, more like. Why? Were you an asshole in them? Is this your penance?

    "Is there anyone else likely to be meddling, as you put it, while you're here? I mean, what's the possibility that your plans will go astray because someone else wants to change events to their liking?"

    "Nah, that's not going to be a problem. Soon as someone else starts changing matters here, it'll split off again. The only time you get two outside effectors happening at once is if they agree to it ahead of time." Wait a minute …

    "I'm having trouble with the timeline of events here. How do you know all this is going to happen if you entered our universe weeks ago?"

    Mike sighed. "You're really not getting the 'from outside your universe' bit, aren't you? To us, your reality is more or less an open book. We can fast-forward and reverse, and pick exactly when and where we want to step in and start changing matters."

    Lisa sat bolt upright in her seat, her eyes wide. Holy fuck, no. Not fucking possible. The pieces were clicking together in her head; she barely heard the questioning continue.

    "If you hadn't arrived and started changing matters, would we have still won this war that you say is looming?"

    "Yes. But a lot more people would have died than should happen now. Before I got here, some people knew that he was the bad guy; they just had no idea how to fight him. Also, there were people in bad situations whom I helped, because why the hell not. There's people who would have led miserable lives, gotten hurt, killed or worse, who've now got a chance to get past all that and have a chance at a happy life."

    "Killed ... or worse?"     The questioner's voice held doubt.

    "Yeah. Trust me, there's worse." He paused to sip his water. "All the time I've been here, I've been working off of a plan, one that had several levels. I'm pleased to say that the plan is nearly done, nearly finished. Only one really big step to go after this one."

    It was Alexandria who asked the question. "What step is that?"

    He took a few moments to answer. "Win the damn war."

    =///=​

    Emily

    No more questions were forthcoming for the moment; he leaned back and drank some more water. Emily covertly studied him; for a world-altering being of apparently immeasurable power, he looked remarkably normal. Out in the audience, capes were chatting back and forth, discussing his words.

    They looked a little shell-shocked, and so they should. She had spent ten years as Director of one of the most pestilentially cape-infested hellholes on the east coast, and she'd learned more about capes and powers during the last five minutes than she had over the previous five years. However, she was taking it better than most of them were, though whether that was due to her previous association with Allen or her own personal level of bloody-mindness, she wasn't quite sure.

    A light popped up on his board. He clicked on it.

    "I have a question." It was Chevalier's voice. "This battle plan which you mentioned; is it possible to give us an overview?"

    "Sure," Allen agreed. "Now, specific details won't be in it, because I'm not the one to work out specific details. But here's how it's gonna go. We've got people who can hand out a beating, and can take one. We've got ranged blasters, and close-in brawlers. Those are the ones that are going to be pummelling on Zion."

    He paused, and when he continued, his voice was much more serious. "However, there's one huge caveat for all of you. Zion's a Warrior. He will adapt to any damn attack you throw at him. You're using shards, after all. He's made of shards. And as soon as you hit him with something, he'll know how to get around it the second time through. Also, if it's an attack that's likely to put him on the ropes, he'll evade before you ever hit him with it. He's a cheating cheater like that. This is why some of you will be held back until the right time.

    "So," he went on. "Hit him, and hit him hard. But don't hit him twice the same way. Do not fall into a pattern. Some of you have your favourite attacks, and the temptation will be to spam that attack when you go up against him." He paused. "Don't. I cannot stress this enough." Another pause. "You're not going to one-shot him. This is not going to happen. He's got a weird sort of precog that lets him skip around attacks that are likely to down him. But he's not gonna go easy on you, either. So hit him, once or twice, depending on how many different variations of attacks you have, then pull back. You'll be getting orders to that effect anyway. Now you know why.

    "Assisting in the pulling-back side of things will be the Movers and other space-time twisters we have here. Each and every one of you will be assessed as to exactly how you can help, and you will be slotted into the master plan so as to get the very best out of your capabilities. Interspersed with the attacks will be psychological warfare. For that we'll need shapers of all kinds. If you can create an image or shape matter, you'll be shown what you need to create an image of. These will screw with his head, and take the pressure off of our fighters. Anyone getting hurt gets pulled back all the way, and put into the highly capable hands of our healers.

    "Now I'm gonna say this just once, but I mean it." He stood up then, and looked out over the audience. "I don't care who you are and what you've done before now. I don't care who it is who we get in from elsewhere to bolster your ranks. Not one person who goes into that war is expendable in my book. We're not gonna throw a single life away. People might die, yeah. That shit happens. But if it happens, it'll be despite our best damn efforts, not because we didn't give a shit about some villain or hero. Absolute best outcome, we have two casualties. Zion and me." Placing both hands on the desk, he leaned forward. "Does anyone not get that?"

    For an answer, there was dead silence from the audience. "I'm gonna take that as an indication that you got it," he decided. "Which is good. Because in a situation like that, you don't need to be obsessing over who did what to whom in the last cape battle. This is gonna be the be-all and end-all of cape battles, and we're gonna need you all to be bringing your A-game." He paused and looked out over the audience. "You'll be contacted over the next few weeks and months, so your particular role in the battle can be finalised. Training will also happen, in both battlefield evolutions and in using the comms you will be issued."

    He paused for a few seconds. "Just remember this; if you have to discuss this matter, try to be behind some sort of security screen when you do so. Don't do it over unshielded comms. Don't do it over shielded comms, if you can help it. The last thing – the very last thing – we want is Zion getting wind before we're ready to lower the boom on him.

    "Oh, and one more thing." His eyes roved over the auditorium. "I know that there's a lot of villains here. You're here because you can help out. But if even one of you decides to make a profit by sabotaging the process, then trust me, once you actively start to threaten the plan, your life expectancy will be measurable in seconds. That's not a threat or a promise. It's the way it's gonna be. Believe it."

    Lights sprang up on his board; he selected one more or less at random.

    "I thought you said that you didn't have any special powers."

    "That's true, yes."

    "How are you going to enforce that, then?"

    Allen cleared his throat, rather theatrically. "Thank you for asking that. Reach under your seat, will you?"

    There was the tiniest of scuffling of noises over the speakers; Emily couldn't see who it was, in the audience. Then the voice came back. "What the hell?"

    "It's a note, isn't it, Venator?" Allen sounded almost bored. "All capitals. 'DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT', with your name on it. Yes?"

    "Christ, how did you -"

    "The note was placed under your seat and your seat only. Because you were going to ask the question. Now, for your own safety, consider the question answered. Yeah?"

    When he answered, the cape sounded rather shaken. "Yeah, okay. Got it."

    "Good." He got up from his chair. "Thank you all for coming. Any other questions, I'm pretty sure that Director Piggot or the Triumvirate can answer them. Anything they can't answer, you probably don't need to know right now."

    Emily activated her microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen … Security."

    =///=​

    Mike

    The applause took me by surprise, just as it had the first time. Director Piggot and Deputy Director Renick were both clapping as well; I paused and bowed briefly toward the audience, before clicking my mic back on. "L33t. Meet me at the doors."

    Ignoring curious stares, I headed along the stage and down to the doors, where I waited. Only a few moments passed before L33t showed up, accompanied by Über. "What?" asked the Tinker. "What do you want?"

    I grinned at him. "You want to find out where you fit into all this?"

    He blinked at me. "Oh, uh, I guess?"

    "Good." I looked at Über and shook my head. "You stay."

    "But we're partners," protested L33t. "If I go, he goes."

    "Über's got something else to do," I explained. "Something just as important."

    "I don't know about this," Über began in his resonant voice, but I wasn't listening; looking past him, I gave Alexandria a high sign. She lifted from her seat and landed next to him.

    "One for your lot," I suggested.

    She barely hesitated before nodding in agreement. "Come on," she told him. "We've got things to talk about." With her hand on his shoulder, he had no choice but to go with her.

    L33t watched them go, looking lost; I tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Walk with me." I opened the doors, and we exited. Outside, the PRT guards nodded to me; I nodded back, then led L33t off down the hallway. "I've got three jobs for you, L33t. They're difficult, but I figure you can pull them off. And they just might make your shard a little happier with you."

    "About that." L33t was staring at me. "All that stuff you were talking about. Shards and powers and conflict and you being a visiting god or something … is that all bullshit or what?"

    I looked him in the eye. "Every word I said in there was true. You might not get all of it, not right now, but it's as true an explanation of what's going on as any. Now, do you want to hear the jobs?"

    "Are we gonna be able to do a theme with this?"

    I raised my eyebrow at his question. "I don't give a damn how you dress. So. First job. Flechette's power can make a projectile ignore things like inertia, gravity and armour. She does this by making the projectile appear in all realities at once, and bypassing armour in those realities. Can you make a handheld weapon that fires projectiles like that?"

    L33t blinked. "I, uh … maybe?"

    I rolled my eyes. "Not fucking maybe. Yes or fucking no?"

    "Sure," he ventured. "I guess. I don't think I ever made anything like that before."

    "Good. If you need resources, ask the PRT. Tell 'em I sent you."

    His eyes widened at that. "O-okay." He paused, apparently regaining his thoughts. "What's the second job?"

    "One I know you can do," I replied. "Study Weaver's power and build something small that can mimic that power."

    "Small?" L33t asked. "How small?"

    "No larger than six inches by one foot by two feet."

    "There might be power supply issues."

    "It doesn't have to run for more than a few minutes."

    L33t nodded. "Okay, I can do that. I think. What's the third job?"

    "To explain that one properly," I told them, "I'm gonna need to take you on a field trip."

    =///=​

    Doctor Mother

    The Doorway opened directly in front of her desk; she looked up, a little puzzled, but not particularly alarmed. When two strangers stepped through, she quickly became very alarmed indeed. "What? Who are you? How did you -" she began.

    "Hey, hey, settle," the big guy told her, while the wimpy one stared around at her office. "Mike Allen. Security. Contessa would have told you about me."

    "Oh, right," she agreed. "She did." She stared at the other one. "Who -"

    "L33t's just visiting," he told her. "We're here to see Eden."

    "Eden … ?" she began, puzzled. "We don't have a parahuman of that name, here."

    He sighed. "Bloody fanon," he muttered obscurely. "The flesh garden. The second entity."

    "You want to see … that? You want to show him?"

    He nodded. "Yup. Specifically, the humanoid form."

    "Oh. Right."

    Behind Security, she saw the look on L33t's face. It wasn't hard to interpret.

    =///=​

    L33t

    What have I gotten myself into this time?

    Trudging across a nightmare landscape of flesh formed into almost recognisable shapes, he wasn't sure if he really wanted an answer. There were hands and feet and arms and legs, all growing haphazardly here and there; in other places, the fleshscape twisted in upon itself into fractal infinity.

    Faces, eyes, mouths, other body parts, rose around him like a Dali-esque painting. He wanted to throw up, but he didn't dare.

    "Uh, so where are we?" he asked; he really didn't want to know, asked anyway.

    Allen glanced at the woman cryptically titled 'Doctor Mother'. With her white lab coat, she looked kind of like a doctor. She didn't look or sound anything like a mother as she replied. "That's classified."

    "Okay, then what's this thing?" He gestured around them.

    "The second entity," Allen explained. "Zion's just the first of two. This is the one we call Eden. She kind of landed a bit harder than she intended."

    L33t took a few seconds to absorb that revelation. "There's two of them?" he blurted. "Fuck, there's two of them. Holy crap."

    "Yup." Allen sounded almost cheerful. "If you were wondering what Zion looked like behind the curtain, this is it. Don't worry, this one's dead, or close to it." He pointed at Doctor Mother. "She killed it."

    L33t looked at the woman again, and silently shook his head. Fuck me.

    "Here it is." Ahead of them, Doctor Mother indicated one of the fleshy growths. This one, however, was more … complete than the others. Allen had mentioned a 'humanoid form', and this was true. It was sexless, but had long hair; the fractal patterns led off of it into … where?

    "What are those things?" L33t pointed at one of the fractal areas.

    "Extensions into the dimension were it was going to be storing its body, once it finished making its humanoid form," Allen explained. "Don't touch; you might go there, and then we might never get you back. Besides, there's probably no air there."

    "Christ." L33t shivered, despite the warmth in the air. "What am I doing here? What do you want from me?"

    Allen pointed at the humanoid form. "You're going to build an animatronic doll of that. But you're going to make it look alive. And you're going to give it the same sort of power emanations that Zion has. Good enough to fool him. Think you can pull it off?"

    L33t blinked. "You want me to … make a doll to mimic that? What is it, Scion's girlfriend?"

    Allen's expression didn't change as he nodded. "Close enough, yeah."

    "And what are you going to do with it, once I've built it?"

    Allen told him.

    =///=​

    Mike

    I dropped him back to his workshop; he was still somewhat pale, but at least he wasn't whimpering any more. "You going to be all right?" I asked.

    "Ungh," he replied. "Coffee. Coffee-coffee-coffee." Staggering over to something that looked like a cross between a drill press and a mad scientist's chemistry set, he pulled controls with almost frantic urgency, ending up with a cup of some evil-smelling brew. It must have tasted almost as bad as it smelled, because he shuddered as it went down, but by the time he finished the cup his eyes were back in focus, and his colour was improving.

    I eyed him carefully. "You okay now?"

    "Yuh." His answer was more of a grunt than a word. "Gonna need pictures of that thing we looked at. Maybe access to Weaver and Flechette at some point."

    "We can sort that out as needed," I agreed.

    "Hey," he began, as I turned to leave. "Do I get access to that 'doorway' trick?"

    "Maybe later," I temporised. "Doorway, to my apartment."

    Stepping through, I let the portal collapse as I slumped on to the sofa. It had been a long, tiring day. And it wasn't over yet; I was still due to be yelled at. I didn't need to be Dinah Alcott to know that one was coming.

    Sighing, I climbed to my feet and went into the bathroom. Splashing water on my face refreshed me a little; I checked the dressing on my forehead, then changed out my shirt; the dressing on my upper abdomen was still secure.

    That little bastard Cody had surprised me with the pistol; to be honest, I hadn't thought he had it in him. He'd tagged me twice, but thankfully it had been a relatively crappy, relatively low-powered pistol, and more thankfully, Riley's subdermal armour had been up to the job. Perhaps, in hindsight, breaking his arms in multiple places had been a little bit of an overreaction, but after all, he had been trying to kill me. I didn't want him thinking he had carte blanche to do it again.

    Pulling out my phone, I called up a number and clicked on it. The phone only rang once on the other end. "You've reached the Wards hotline, Kid Win speaking. How may I help you?"

    "Hey, Kid," I replied. "So the conference is over?"

    "Oh, hi, Mr Allen. Yeah, it's over. I've just relieved Gallant. Did you want to talk to him?"

    "Not Gallant, no," I told him. "Is Weaver there?"

    A pause. "Yeah, she's here. She's just changing. Want me to call her over when she's finished?"

    "Nah, don't bother." I ended the call and put the phone away. Fuck it. May as well get it over with. "Doorway to the Wards base."

    =///=​

    Amy

    The portal opened in midair, about ten feet away from where Amy was sitting, waiting for Taylor to finish changing. She stared in surprise as Mike Allen stepped through. She was not the only one; all over the Wards base, heads were turning. Over at the console, Kid Win was frozen in the act of replacing the phone on its cradle.

    "Holy shit," exclaimed Clockblocker. "And here you said you didn't have any awesome powers."

    "I don't," Mike replied. "I've just been given access to someone else's abilities."

    Without conscious volition, Amy found herself on her feet; Mike turned just in time to meet her attack. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, and she held him close. She felt his arms go around her, and they hugged one another. "Hey," he murmured. "Hey. It's okay. I'm here."

    "But you're gonna die," she told him, quite proud of the fact that she wasn't crying yet. "You said so. Up on the stage."

    "Look, it's all right," he reassured her. "I won't die for real. I'll just, you know, snap back to where I came from."

    "You only half believe that," she accused him. "I can read your body, remember?"

    "Yeah, well, okay, I don't know for sure," he confessed. "But it's a pretty good chance. And anyway, even if I do go out, it'll be for a real good cause. Making sure you and yours have a good life from here on in."

    "But you won't be there," she retorted, closer to tears than before.

    He ruffled her hair. "Sure I will," he told her comfortingly. He went to say more, but Taylor hit them from the side, forcing Mike to take a few steps to regain his balance. "Whoa, hey, hi Taylor," he greeted the newcomer.

    "Don't you 'hi Taylor' me, Mike Allen," she replied sternly. "What the hell is this? When did you find out? When were you going to tell us?"

    He shrugged as best he could with both Amy and Taylor hugging him. "I found out just before the heart attack. It kind of contributed. And I was going to tell you … well, shit, I couldn't really find the right time to tell you. I'm sorry. Both of you."

    "It's not just us that you're going to have to apologise to," Amy informed him tartly. "Riley looked really upset too. So you're going to need to go visit her, and soon."

    "Oh god, yeah." He closed his eyes. "Argh. I'm sorry. So caught up with the whole 'save the world' thing that I didn't think about how you guys might feel about it."

    "Do you have to die?" asked Taylor. "Amy and Riley can fix you up really good, right Amy?"

    "God yes," Amy agreed. "We can make you even tougher than you are now, and make sure you survive."

    =///=​

    Mike

    "Not sure that'll work, guys," I told them regretfully. "I think me dying is kind of part of the deal. Even as I am now, I've got about two percent chance of survival. Dunno how high you can make it with all your powers, and upgrading me even more might change other factors. In any case, this is Zion we're going up against. He's kind of the eight hundred pound gorilla."

    "But why do you even have to fight Scion?" wailed Amy. "It doesn't make sense. No offence, but what can you do to him?"

    "Not really sure," I told her. "It'll probably come to me." I had an idea, but only that, and I didn't want to worry either one of them.

    "I wish it didn't have to be this way," Taylor told me, her voice muffled. "You're the most awesome security guard ever."

    "You're just saying that 'cause it's true," I told her, tousling her hair fondly.

    "It's so not fair," Amy maintained. "You've done all this stuff for everyone, and you're going to die, and there's nothing we can do about it."

    "Trust me, kiddo," I replied, "compared to the way it would have gone, you're getting a way better deal than you would have if I wasn't here."

    "But I'm not talking about me," she insisted. "I'm talking about you. You're a good person. Even if it doesn't kill you for real, why do you have to go?"

    "Maybe because I'll unbalance matters if I stay plugged in too long?" I suggested. "Anyway, chances are I'll still be around to keep an eye on you once I'm gone."

    "So you'll be able to visit?" That was Taylor.

    I shrugged. "Maybe. No promises. I'll have to see. Anyway, geez. It won't be for at least four months, as far as I know. So it's not exactly a tearful farewell right now, you know?"

    Taylor let me go, followed by Amy. "You'll come over for dinner," the shorter girl told me. "At least once a week."

    "And bring Mrs Knott, too," Taylor added. "She was the only one who was ever nice to me."

    "I can definitely do that," I agreed. "It'll be good to see your dad again. Someone's gotta keep you two ratbags in line."

    Taylor rolled her eyes and gave me a shove; I didn't budge, so she ended up pushing herself backward. "Go on, get out of here," she ordered me. "Riley needs you."

    "Yeah, I know," I told her; looking around, I spotted a familiar face. "Theo, you want to come with? I might need a referee."

    The chunky young man looked at me. "You sound like you're scared of her."

    "Of her? No. Of making her cry? God, yes. I hate when that happens."

    He sighed. "Okay, just give me a minute."

    "Thank you." I wasn't looking forward to this. My dignity, I suspected, was going to take a huge hit.

    Ah well, I guess I deserve it for not forewarning them.

    =///=​

    Accord

    "I'm going to make this brief."

    There were six people gathered around the table in the small conference room. Alexandria was the one who had spoken; apart from her, there was Accord himself, a humanoid Dragon suit, a teenage girl with a lavender-and-black costume and messy blonde hair – he itched to be able to order her to comb it, do anything to make it neater – a well-built man in his twenties wearing street clothes and a domino mask, and an unmasked woman of about the same age with long brown hair. The last two were at least dressed neatly, which went some way toward soothing his nerves; the costumed girl was the only jarring note.

    "Nearly all of us are Thinkers," Alexandria continued, "each one with a slightly different focus. We each have our strengths and our weaknesses. It will be our job, as a whole, to take the disparate capabilities of every cape available to us, and turn Security's vague battle plan into a set of tactical and strategic options. But before we can do that, first of all we need to know one another's capabilities. We'll start with me; does anyone not know who I am, and what I can do?"

    Silence greeted her question; Accord would have been astonished if anyone had not known her. She waited, looking at each face in turn. Accord met her eyes levelly, the better to not have to look at the chaos inherent in the blonde's hair. The Dragon suit's gaze was impassive, the teenager was staring into space, and the two uncostumed adults were just a little nervous.

    Accord had timed thirty seconds precisely by the clock on the wall before Alexandria spoke again; he was reasonably sure that she hadn't referred to any timepiece. "Very well. Around the table, we have Accord, Dragon, Tattletale, Über and Noelle Meinhardt. Dragon, I'm fairly sure, is also well-known. Has anyone here not heard of Accord?"

    Again, the silence stretched on; Accord pondered on the brunette. He had heard the name before, but could not place where from. Noelle Meinhardt, Noelle Meinhardt …

    "Good," Alexandria stated, breaking into his thoughts. "One less introduction to do. Tattletale, can you tell us about yourself?"

    The girl in the lavender and black costume didn't respond at first; she appeared to be still staring into the middle distance. Accord was just deciding how painful her death would be if she showed him the same level of disrespect when Alexandria spoke again, somewhat more sharply. "Tattletale! Are you paying attention?"

    Tattletale blinked, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm listening. We've all heard of you, Dragon and Accord."

    Alexandria frowned. "That's true. But you're not so well known. Please give us the details of your capabilities."

    "Oh, right. I'm really good at putting the pieces together, making inferences. Even the tiniest bit of data can be used to build the whole picture. That's me." She gave Alexandria a cheeky grin and a vague salute.

    Accord gritted his teeth at the mocking tone, but Alexandria cleared her throat before he could respond. "You will curb that attitude," she stated quellingly. "I know how much you love to tweak and niggle people, to prove that you're the smartest person in the room. This is not the place for that. Not in this team, not with these people. Do you understand?"

    Tattletale wrinkled her nose, but nodded. "Okay, sure. I'll be good."

    "Indeed. Über. Your powers, in twenty words or less."

    The tall, well-built man – so this is Über, of Über and L33t – cleared his throat; his voice was deep and resonant, as if he were practising for a stage play. "If I need a skill, I have it. If I concentrate, I become world-class at it."

    "Which should be useful when it comes to strategy and tactics," Alexandria agreed. "Very well, Ms Meinhardt, you appear to have something to say?"

    All eyes turned to the young woman. She swallowed a little nervously, then raised her chin. "Uh, yeah," she replied. "I'm not really sure why I'm here. You've all got powers; I don't."

    "No, you do not," agreed Alexandria. "However, I have been reliably informed that you're very good at coming up with small-unit tactics on the fly, making best use of unconventional capabilities. We can use that."

    "Only in computer games," protested the young woman. "Never in real life."

    "A skill is a skill," Alexandria told her flatly. "We have need of it. Can you work with us?"

    Noelle took a deep breath. "I can, yes."

    "Good," Alexandria told her. "Because I'm putting you third in the chain of command of this group, after myself and Dragon."

    "What?"

    "What?"

    "What?"

    What?

    The woman called Noelle Meinhardt had spoken first, a fraction of a second before Über, who was just a little ahead of Tattletale. Accord had kept his own exclamation silent, but only just. I hope she has a good explanation for this …

    "Why does she get to be in charge?" That was Über.

    Tattletale had been shaken out of whatever fugue she had been inhabiting; she wasn't speaking, but she was eyeing Alexandria closely, and then she grinned. "Because Alexandria's not going to be here," she pointed out, then addressed the hero directly. "You'll be helping in the planning stages, but when the war starts, you'll be out there on the front lines."

    Alexandria nodded. "Correct."

    "But … what about Dragon?" asked Noelle. "She'll still be in charge, right?"

    Dragon sighed. "There is something important you need to know about me, if we're going to be planning this properly. I'm an artificial intelligence; my ability to multitask is improving steadily, but we've been advised by Security that Scion might seek out my command centre and destroy it, to deprive us of coordination. If that happens, I will have a backup, and a backup of a backup, but if I do get taken offline, we'll need someone who can make command decisions quickly."

    Alexandria didn't seem to be overly surprised at the news, but each of the others reacted a little; Accord kept his own reaction to a minimum. Probably for the best. She's more likely to react predictably.

    =///=​

    Noelle

    "Why do we even need someone in charge at all?" asked Tattletale. "Because I don't take orders very well."

    Noelle found herself less than astonished by that statement.

    "Because," Alexandria stated, mirroring her thoughts to a surprising degree, "if we had no-one to give the orders, Accord would probably assume command, and murder you within about five minutes. Which is also why neither you nor Accord will be in the chain of command."

    "Hey, what about me?" asked Über. "I can be good at leadership."

    "You're good at a partnership," Alexandria told him. "Noelle has experience with leading people in battle. Simulated battle, certainly, but battle all the same." She paused. "Of course, if she's not up to it, you can have the position. Noelle?"

    Up until then, events had been moving on a little faster than Noelle was really comfortable with. A war against Scion. Francis was being asked to help in the battle. She was being asked to help plan said battle. And now she was being offered a leadership role, in the case of Alexandria and Dragon being unable to give orders.

    Do I want to do this?

    After a few moments of considering the question, she realised that she was asking the wrong question.Of course she didn't want to do this. No-one in their right mind would want to do this. The right question was something else altogether.

    Can I do this?

    And the answer to that one was easy.

    "Well," she told the group, "it's not Ransack, but I'll surely give it a shot."

    "Excellent," Alexandria told her, then looked around at the group. "That concludes this meeting. Go home, do what you need to do. I'll be assembling the data we'll be working with. We start roughing out battle plans by next week at the latest."

    As Noelle rose, Alexandria slapped her on the shoulder. "Good to have you on the team, Ms Meinhardt. I'm sure you'll do well."

    Noelle smiled. "Thanks." But her attention was on Tattletale; the teenager was again just a little spaced out. What's bothering her?

    =///=​

    Aisha

    "You were with Lisa the whole time she was at that conference," Brian stated. "What's up with her?"

    Aisha shrugged. "I have no idea. She just sat there the whole time, except for a bit where your buddy Mike was talking about how he can go into universes any time he likes – it was all going over my head – and all of a sudden she sat up like something bit her. But she won't tell me what's going on."

    From the bathroom, there came the sound of someone throwing up into the toilet.

    "Well, since she got back, she's done nothing but drink and then throw up, so something's bothering her," Brian muttered. "And you have no idea what it is?"

    "She said exactly one thing to me before she started drinking. 'So that's what he fucking meant.' What she meant by that, I have no fuckin' idea, big bro."

    "Look, just … go and sit with her, okay?" asked Brian. "Take care of her. Make sure she's all right."

    Aisha rolled her eyes. "Okay, I guess. What are you gonna do?"

    "Me?" Brian shook his head. "Nothing."

    "What the hell?" she burst out. "Seriously? You're not going to try to figure this out?"

    "Nope." He held up a finger. "She probably means Mike. Security. And given what he was talking about at the conference, she's probably worked out something that no-one else did. And if it's something that makes her drink till she throws up, I don't want to know about it. I really don't."

    "But what could make her … ?"

    He shook his head again. "I don't want to know."

    So Aisha went and held Lisa's hair out of the way as she threw up. And then she helped her clean herself up, and put her to bed. As she sat by the bed, listening to Lisa drunkenly cry herself to sleep, she decided that Brian was right.

    She really didn't want to know what Lisa had figured out.


    End of Chapter Forty-Seven

    Part Forty-Eight
     
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    • Ack said:
    "But why do you even have to fight Scion?" wailed Amy. "It doesn't make sense. No offence, but what can you do to him?"

    "Not really sure," I told her. "It'll probably come to me." I had an idea, but only that, and I didn't want to worry either one of them.
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    You're going to walk up and punch Zion in the face. Just straight up punch him, nothing special, and through shear what-the-fuckedness he (along with everyone else busy trying to work out what the hell is going on) will freeze, allowing Lily to tag him so they can one-shot the real him. You'll die because you couldn't get out of the way in time.

    [Confusion]
    "Don't look at me."
    [Confusion]
    "Look, I had to try something. This is about all I've got."
    [Disbelief]
    "That's kind of insulting. What else was I supposed to do?"
    [Agreement]
    "... That's not much better."

    Golden Morning shall instead be known as the day every Thinker gets a headache trying to figure out why you thought that was a good idea in the first place. A commemorative statue will be erected of you standing there with one hand scratching the back of your head.

    And then everyone goes and celebrates by getting pissed because Lisa tells them it's what the Australian would have wanted. The end. Roll credits.

    More seriously, if Tats has worked out pretty much everything about where Mike is from and what they are to him, I wonder if she's also worked out the other hints (since stories have protagonists, and Mike's been spending a lot of time making Taylor/Amy's life better, and that would kind of indicate parts of how utterly shit their lives would have been otherwise). Looking forward to more on that, if it comes up.
     
    Franklymydear said:
    More seriously, if Tats has worked out pretty much everything about where Mike is from and what they are to him, I wonder if she's also worked out the other hints (since stories have protagonists, and Mike's been spending a lot of time making Taylor/Amy's life better, and that would kind of indicate parts of how utterly shit their lives would have been otherwise). Looking forward to more on that, if it comes up.
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    Obviously Lisa is now hearing the Narrator and has discovered that real life is Stranger Than Fiction.
     
    Spyglass said:
    Obviously Lisa is now hearing the Narrator
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    See, that's actually a problem.

    Lisa's pretty fucking out of it at the moment, and while it's likely because of the shock of what she's worked out, it's also possible that her power is just constantly feeding her whatever it knows about fiction/narration/whatever because she knows it's all a story, so her mind associates everything with stories, so her power provides her with story information. Nothing meta though, since they're still locked into their little world.

    She could think about how she's happy Aisha is helping her clean herself up, then her power goes and supplies her with "Oh, that's because in a book the author would have needed a team for X reason, and this is their way of showing how the team supports each other and etc, etc" which leads to Lisa crying herself to sleep from the pain.

    It's probably not what's happening, but it's something that could happen if Lisa isn't careful how she thinks about things.
     
    Existential crisis caused by metatroll whiplash. Doctors recommend getting piss drunk, crying yourself to sleep and next morning ignoring the whole issue like only humans can.
     
    Elamshin said:
    Existential crisis caused by metatroll whiplash. Doctors recommend getting piss drunk, crying yourself to sleep and next morning ignoring the whole issue like only humans can.
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    I now have a vision of Tattletale waking up in a hospital. The first face she sees is a very tired, slightly irate pair - Panacea and Riley. Panacea explains how they've had to put her brain back together several times already - and would she stop letting her Thinker power drive her into giving herself brain damage?!? (Complete with both a video presentation of what happened to Tattletale last time and a request that she stop watching Security's presentation.)

    Cue Tattletale either going to watch the presentation (and Riley collecting on a $5 bet with Panacea) or being extremely worried about what she doesn't know ..
     
    Character stock time update!

    Lung: mmmm. Fight. Honorable warrior sacrifices self for fight. mmmmmm

    Bakuda: Bomb is B. B is for Bakuda. Put Bomb B into L33T-Gun A. Fire at monsters as necessary.

    Riley: I'm going to atone. And have a new family. I love my big sis.

    Taylor: Dammit, Mike!

    Sophia/Stevie/something-starting-with-S: (I'm sorry, who was this again?)

    Jack Slash: I'M STILL DEAD HERE!!!! (shhhh, we're trying to forget you)

    Amy: New Wave is NOT my home. I'm staying with Taylor. So there.

    Yamada: I'm just going to stand in the corner and observe this. Don't mind me.

    E88: We're not in denial. Really, we're not. We swear. We're relevant. We have power. Really...

    Contessa: Look under your chair. Now look at the note. Now be afraid.

    Eidolon: I hate myself... ... ...I'm NOT getting crucified?

    Legend: My name is Legend, and I approve of this meeting.

    Oni Lee: in jail, out of story

    Coil: Glaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh.... (on drugs, not coherent, now in training)

    Purity Evenstar: My name is Evenstar. I am ignoring the neo-nazis with whom I have absolutely no connection whatsoever.

    Aster: (new babysitter-uncle is fun, but where is flashy babysitter-uncle?) (Aster misses Legend)

    Theo: Roll'em, Roll'em, Roll'em. GOLEM!!

    Dragon: I am Dragon. All your Tinkers will work with me.

    Armsy: I'm just going to be in the background, tinkering, mmkay?

    Miss Militia: Still here! Still saving the day!

    Canary: I'm SINGING with no pain! Just SINGING with no pain! Such a GLORIOUS FEELING! I'M HAPPY AGAIN!!!!!

    L33t: You...I...Powers...Eldritch..No air... ... ...WHAT?!?!?!?!

    Merchants: weren't we in this story?

    Emma: Mike is coool.

    Scion: (still gold-y, still mopey)

    Simurgh: ....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

    Alexandria: Here, Uber-Uber-Uber. Good boy!

    Piggot: It... All... Makes... Sense...

    Narwhal: Sir-Lady-Finally-Actually-Appearing-In-This-Fic (even-if-only-briefly-mentioned)

    Gallant?: Sir-Not-Attending-The-Big-Meeting-As-Part-Of-A-Meta-Joke

    Lisa: I...Can't...Handle...The Truth
     
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    I really REALLY want to know what Lisa figured out, simply because reading Ack's Lisa's thoughts would be the most hilarious and fantastic thing ever.

    That said, we're shaping up for the endgame, and I freaking love it. We need an ebook version of this when it's finished, so I can keep it with me forever.
     
    Ack said:
    Accord

    "I'm going to make this brief."

    There were six people gathered around the table in the small conference room. Alexandria was the one who had spoken; apart from her, there was Accord himself, a humanoid Dragon suit, a teenage girl with a lavender-and-black costume and messy blonde hair – he itched to be able to order her to comb it, do anything to make it neater – a well-built man in his twenties wearing street clothes and a domino mask, and an unmasked woman of about the same age with long brown hair. The last two were at least dressed neatly, which went some way toward soothing his nerves; the costumed girl was the only jarring note.
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    I find myself wondering if Lisa knew she'd be meeting with Accord in circumstances where he couldn't kill her, and kept her hair messy on purpose, but more likely, it's just a result of her being freaked out by what she's discovered, and not having exceptionally neat hair in costume in the first place.
     
    Lumarin said:
    I really REALLY want to know what Lisa figured out, simply because reading Ack's Lisa's thoughts would be the most hilarious and fantastic thing ever.

    That said, we're shaping up for the endgame, and I freaking love it. We need an ebook version of this when it's finished, so I can keep it with me forever.
    Click to expand...
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    Shouts of agreement arose; Allen waited them out. "Because I'm not all-powerful. This, who you're looking at, isn't the true me. A very close copy, yes, but one I created to insert into this reality. It took me no effort at all to arrange matters so that I had always been here. But I made certain that this version of me couldn't even trigger with powers."
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    Lisa's brain: so he didn't create the universe ...
    "Oh, for god's sake," snapped Allen. "I could also be dreaming this. You could be dreaming this. This could all be a scene in the mind of a novelist. ..."
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    Lisa's brain: .... what?
    Mike sighed. "You're really not getting the 'from outside your universe' bit, aren't you? To us, your reality is more or less an open book. We can fast-forward and reverse, and pick exactly when and where we want to step in and start changing matters."
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    Lisa's brain: FUUUUUUCK, I'm in a fanfic!
     
    Ack said:
    This could all be a scene in the mind of a novelist.
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    Ack said:
    Holy fuck, no. Not fucking possible.
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    Ack said:
    Lisa's brain: so he didn't create the universe ...

    Lisa's brain: .... what?

    Lisa's brain: FUUUUUUCK, I'm in a fanfic!
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    Heh, Here I was ready to quote the relevant sections and Ack beat me to it.

    I also love the recursive confusion as,

    "I'm a villain, stories are about good people! SHIT!"

    "Wait he zeroed in on Taylor, Taylors the protagonist, Taylor is the protagonist?!"

    "Maybe Amy is... no... he keeps talking about horrible ends... Amy... shit!"

    "Shadow Stalker was a ward, a hero so Taylor... would have been a villain, I'm a villain... He went out of his way to help us, Mike likes us, Shit!"

    Then of course the bluescreen moment,

    "So if I realized whats going on, that means that he knows, that I know, which means because of what I know, he's writing me knowing that he knows what I know as I know it......bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"
     
    Note that Mike has specifically stated that he didn't come in with any powers. So the only way he can second-guess Lisa is via his knowledge of her abilities.
     
    Part Forty-Eight: Buildup
  • Threadmarks
    • Security!

    Part Forty-Eight: Buildup

    [A/N: the Riley/Piggot interaction has been vastly improved via a submission from @Cheiromancer . Read and enjoy.]

    Saturday, April 30, 2011

    Lisa

    "So what did you realise? Tell meee."

    Lisa closed her eyes and shook her head, carefully. "No. Leave me alone."

    "No. Not until you tellll meeeee."

    That particular tone of Aisha's voice went through her skull like a bandsaw through soft cheese, but Lisa held firm. "No. Seriously. Leave it alone." Carefully, she sipped at her scalding coffee. Her hangover had hit A-class some time ago and was threatening to hit S-class at any moment, not helped in the slightest by Aisha's insistently wheedling tone. The painkillers she had swallowed earlier just weren't doing the trick. "Believe me, you do not want to know."

    "But I do want to know." Aisha leaned close. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of the week," she promised.

    It was a lie. Lisa knew it was a lie. "No. You won't. And I'm not going to tell you."

    "But why not?"

    Lisa could feel another headache beginning to overtake the first; a difficult feat, but it was somehow happening due to the miracle that was Aisha Laborn. "Because you won't thank me. And you definitely won't be happier knowing what I know."

    "You don't know that for sure!"

    "Yes. I do." Lisa took another sip of coffee. "I can't imagine anyone being okay with knowing this. I don't even know why he let me know."

    "'cause you're smarter than anyone and I'm your best friend?"

    Lisa snorted, very carefully. "No, I'm actually pretty sure that's not it."

    "Aisha, leave Lisa alone."

    The younger girl looked around in annoyance as her brother entered the kitchen area. "Butt out. I'm allowed to ask her if I want to."

    "Not if she tells you to stop asking her." He went to the fridge. "Besides, I thought you decided you didn't want to know?"

    "I changed my mind." She flipped her hair. "I'm allowed to do that."

    "And Lisa doesn't want to tell you. So respect that." Taking a bottle of juice, he poured himself a cup.

    She made a rude noise. "And what about me? Does anyone respect what I want? Nope. I get no love."

    "Gotta give respect to get it." He took a drink of juice. "Now leave her alone. Come on." His hand settled on to her shoulder, guided her inexorably from the room.

    "Bully. Meanie."

    His reply was lost to the sound of Alec playing a video game; Lisa sipped more coffee and cradled her aching head.

    I wonder how much I have to drink to forget it altogether.

    =//=//=​

    Riley

    "Seriously, it's like you totally forgot what I told you the last time." She peeled the dressing away from his forehead, dabbed disinfectant, then applied a new dressing. "What were you even thinking?"

    Mike winced when the disinfectant went on. "I didn't think he'd get a gun and start shooting, that's for sure. I mean, who does that?"

    She gave him a very dry look. "Apparently? Him."

    "Yeah." His reply was equally dry. "I got that, thanks."

    "Lift your shirt." He did so. She removed that dressing as well, cleaned the wound beneath, then applied a fresh bandage. "I thought you said you knew everyone, how they were likely to react?"

    "Well, yeah, to a point," he conceded. "But, well, he was never in that situation before, so I didn't know how hard he was likely to escalate."

    "And now you know."

    "Well, at least he was only able to get hold of a crappy pistol. So I didn't have much to worry about."

    Reaching across, she rapped on his skull with her knuckles. "Mike. Listen carefully. This is bullet resistant. This -" She pointed at his eye. " - is not. If he'd gotten you there, crappy pistol or no crappy pistol, the bullet would have gone into your brain. And even if you survived, I would've had to go in there and fix stuff. Or convince Amy to do it. And do you really want to put something like that on her?"

    Up until that point, he had been showing little in the way of physical reaction, but now he wilted. "Ah. Crap. Sorry."

    "Sorry's not going to cut it. You're here to save the world. Act like it, huh?"

    He nodded. "You're right. I'll be more careful. Thanks."

    "For what?" she asked, putting the disinfectant away.

    "Pulling me up. Giving it to me straight. Not tiptoeing around the subject."

    She rolled her eyes. "Don't get me wrong. I'm still upset with you. And I mean, really upset."

    She didn't explain any further. He had to know why she was upset. "Yeah. Sorry about that, too."

    "Which is why you're going to make me a promise." The set of her jaw dared him to refuse her.

    One of his eyebrows twitched upward. "Define." He did not, she noticed, immediately rush to agree.

    She took a deep breath. "After it's all … well, over. Once we win …"

    "You're assuming we're going to win." His voice held dry amusement.

    "Well, if we lose, it won't matter, will it? So shut up and listen."

    "Listening." He wasn't grinning, quite. But his faded blue eyes were steady on hers.

    "Once we win, I want some sort of … well, sign. That you're alive, somewhere. That you're not really dead."

    He took a deep breath. "I can't promise that. Not one hundred percent. This sort of thing's never happened to me before and I don't know for sure what's going to happen this time around." He held up his hand to quell her protest. "But I can promise to try. If I'm able to let you know, I will." A pause. "And if I do …"

    She blinked back moisture from her eyes. I will not cry. Not in front of him. Damn it. "What?"

    "There's a woman called Gladys Knott. Weaver will know how to find her. If I can get word to you, will you pass it on to her too, please?"

    Riley tilted her head. "She knows, too?"

    "Yeah." He nodded heavily. "She knows. Actually, I've told her that I might introduce you to her sometime. I think she'd be a good influence."

    "Okay. Yeah, I think I'd like that." She smiled wanly. "I'll tell her. I promise."

    "Good." He got up, tucking his shirt in. "They treating you okay?"

    Her mood brightened at the change of subject. "Yeah. This surgery they fixed up for me is a huge improvement over the cell, let me tell you." She pointed to a door. "I've got a little en-suite right back there. A real bed. Heaven."

    A snort. "Well, you did save my life two or three times, so I think they decided that it's probably a good idea to give you a bit more leeway. Especially as it was probably driving them nuts to get all your visitors in and out of your cell." He tilted his head toward the door. "I notice you've still got a guard on you."

    She shrugged. "Yeah. But he's kinda protecting me from anyone who wants to get to me, you know? As well as, yeah, protecting everyone from me." A smile crossed her face. "I get to go to the cafeteria and pick what I want to eat. He comes with, but that's fine."

    "Yeah, I got that." He nodded. "Paige – you know, Canary? Yeah, she's got the same deal. Can't go anywhere without her watchdog. Poor kid. But it's better than the Birdcage."

    "Yeah, I saw her in the cafeteria yesterday." Riley hesitated. "I wanted to go and say hi, but …"

    "Go ahead," he advised her. "Do it. She can only tell you to go away." A grin crossed his face. "And she's not even allowed to use her power to do it."

    "I think I will. Theo's sat with me a few times, but a lot of the time he can't make it. So it would be nice to have someone to talk to at mealtimes."

    "Good to hear." He nodded toward the door. "Look, I've got places to be and things to do, but I'll try to drop in and see you, okay?"

    "Okay, yeah, I've got work to do too. But Mike?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Thanks."

    A genuine smile stretched his bearded face. "You're welcome, kiddo. Take care."

    "Hey, you're the one who got shot, not me!"

    Laughing, he left.

    =//=//=​

    Emily

    "Do you know why I had you brought here?" Emily leaned forward, not quite glowering at the young girl on the other side of her desk.

    Bonesaw – no, Riley – didn't shift in her chair, didn't fidget. Her bright blue eyes met Emily's without flinching. "It's about what I said to him, isn't it?"

    "Yes." Emily's tone was flat. "It's about what you said to him." Her expression hardened. "You had to know we have the surgery monitored."

    "I suspected, yeah." Riley's tone was offhanded. "But you knew what I was doing. If you're okay with that, what's wrong with what I was saying?"

    "Let's play back the recording," suggested Emily dryly, "and see if you can't figure it out."

    =//=//=​

    (Earlier ...)

    Cody

    He hesitated in the doorway of the surgery, looking for the doctor. The only person he could see was a blonde-haired kid in a cut-down lab coat; she was doing some sort of paperwork at a desk. As he was unable to leave, due to the presence of his PRT escort behind him, he looked around inside the tiny surgery instead. "Uh, where's the doctor?"

    "Oh, hi," the kid chirped cheerfully, jumping up from her chair. "Come on in. Sit down, I'll get you sorted out."

    "I said," Cody snapped, "where's the doctor?"

    "And I said, come in and sit down," the girl reminded him. "Wow, who did the job on your arms?"

    He shifted uncomfortably, very aware of the awkward bulk of not one, but both arms in immobilising casts, making all but the simplest of tasks well-nigh impossible. "I, uh, some doctor. I wasn't in a state to ask his name at the time."

    "No, no," she prattled on. "Come on in." Shutting the door behind him, she more or less dragged him forward and pushed him to sit in a chair. That done, she took the stethoscope from around her neck and plugged it into her ears, then checked his heartbeat with it. "Who broke them?"

    "I, uh, it was that guy Security."

    "Uh huh, right." She turned back to her desk for a moment. "Hold still for a moment."

    Such was her easy manner, despite being nearly ten years his junior, that when she turned back around with a syringe, he didn't react until she'd stuck it in his shoulder and depressed the plunger. He felt the warm tingle spreading through his body. "Hey, wait, what was that?"

    Her smile was still bright, but now there was something else in it. Something cold and hard. "Oh, nothing much. Just a little something I dreamed up. It severs your conscious connection to your powers. At some point you'll be given the antidote, but right now you've got exactly zero control over your power. Which means that you and I can have a little chat – Cody."

    Chills shot up and down his spine and he tried to leap to his feet, but he only lurched a little. "What? You know who I am?" Desperately, he tried to use his power to push himself back a few seconds.

    Absolutely nothing happened.

    "Sure I do," she replied brightly. "You're Cody. Otherwise known as Perdition. Traded off to the Chinese by Accord for being such a douche. And apparently haven't yet learned your lesson."

    "What – what did you do to me? Why can't I move?"

    A roll of those cornflower-blue eyes. "Because I also dosed you with a paralytic, duh."

    "But why?'

    She sighed with impatience at his slowness. "So you can sit and listen while I tell you how it's going to be."

    This was not at all how he had visualised the visit to the doctor. In fact, that raised another question. "But who are you?" For sure, she wasn't just some kid.

    "What, really?" Her expression altered to one of surprise. "You don't recognise me? Wow, Jack would be totally disappointed."

    And with that, the dots connected themselves. Blonde girl … Jack … medical … "Oh shit. You're Bonesaw."

    Terror poured through him, setting off flares throughout his brain. He'd never been a cape geek, not like Jess, but the members of the Slaughterhouse Nine had been nationally famous. Or rather, infamous. This, right here and right now, was the stuff of nightmares. I'm paralysed, powerless and locked in a small room with Bonesaw. The rest of the thought was a wordless wail of despair.

    "Relax." Her voice was impatient. "I'm not gonna cut you up."

    "But … but … but … what do you want with me?" He paused, another question occurring to him through the haze of terror. "And what are you doing here?" He'd been absent for the fall of the Nine, but he'd heard something about it. But what was Bonesaw doing in the depths of the PRT building?

    "To answer your second question first, making things right." She took one of his arms and sprayed something on it; the cast – apparently made of containment foam – melted away, dribbling into a bowl she expertly held under it. Her hands on his unresponsive limb were firm and sure as she prodded him. "Hm. Several breaks. He wasn't very happy with you, was he?"

    "I, uh -"

    "That was rhetorical. Shut up and listen." Such was her tone that he shut up and listened. "Now, the reason I'm here is that he believes in me. He's put his life in my hands several times, has shown more trust in me than anyone since the Nine were defeated. He believes in me so hard that other people have started believing in me too and so I'm here, instead of locked in a cell." Her eyes rose to meet his. "Are you following so far? Say yes."

    "Uh, yes?"

    "Good boy." She picked up a syringe from a tray and injected it into his arm, discarded it, then repeated the procedure with a second syringe at a different point. "You were in the auditorium. You heard the speech."

    She paused, obviously waiting for a response. "Uh, yeah, I did."

    Using a spray-can, she began spraying the cast back on to his arm, using the same yellow-white foam as before. "So you know just how important he is to the world. To all of us. And you tried to kill him. You fucking moron."

    "I, uh, I didn't know -"

    She flicked him sharply on the ear. "No. You don't say that. You say I'm very sorry, Riley. I won't do it again." Then she went back to spraying the cast on.

    "Uh, I'm very sorry, Riley. I won't do it again." He was barely aware of what he was saying. Anything she wanted him to say, anything she wanted him to do, was all right with him so long as he survived the experience.

    "Good boy." She smiled brightly, patted him on the cheek, then commenced spraying the solvent to remove the cast from his other arm. "Now, you're not exactly correct when you call me Bonesaw. I'm not her, not any more. I'm Riley. Mr Allen – Security – doesn't want me to be Bonesaw any more, so I'm not. I help people, I don't hurt them. Because of him." One syringe after another, she injected something into his arm.

    "I, uh -"

    "Shut up, Cody."

    He shut up.

    "But here's the thing. He's really, really important to me. Really important. You get me?" She was leaning close, her eyes intent on his. "Say 'yes, Riley'."

    "Uh, yes, Riley."

    "So the thing you need to understand is this." She began spraying the cast back on to his arm. "If you even try to hurt him ever again and I find out about it, then I'm going to bring Bonesaw out of retirement one more time." Her voice held absolutely no emotion. "Just. For. You." Abruptly, she smiled, but her eyes remained cold and hard. "And I'll enjoy every hour of it. Until I put an end to it and to you. Do I make myself totally, positively clear?"

    Involuntarily, he shivered. "Yeah," he replied jerkily. "Yeah. Got it. Hundred percent. Not gonna try to hurt him. No way."

    "And you'll go along with whatever plan they've got for you."

    "Yeah. Mr Cooperation, that's me. I promise." He would have promised anything at that moment.

    "Yay!" She giggled, bouncing in her chair, a typical twelve-year-old again. "I hate it when my friends fight, don't you?" Before he could respond, she stuck him with yet another needle; he felt his muscles unlocking, his ability to move returning. "Now, I've given you a dose of bone growth stimulant, so your arms should be back to new in about a week or so. Come see me if they aren't, mmkay?"

    Oh, God no. Never again. "My powers. Are they back?"

    "Pfft, no." She rolled her eyes. "Not till we think you can be trusted to not be a total douche again. Enjoy being normal." Strolling over to the door, she knocked briskly on it; it opened to show her guard and his, standing side by side. He'd never been so happy to see a PRT uniform. "You can have him back now, kaythanksbye."

    Cody shuffled from the surgery, leaving the cheerful blonde demon behind. He'd have to change his underwear when he got back to his cell. But he didn't mind.

    I'm getting out of here alive. Oh, thank god.

    =//=//=​

    Emily

    "So what exactly was that?" Director Piggot folded her arms and gave Riley a hard stare.

    Riley seemed to be puzzled. "Uh … a warning?"

    "That was a direct threat to his life." Piggot was not thrilled. "Along with a threat to return to your activities as Bonesaw and to torture him for hours. Neither of which I consider to be any kind of good idea. In fact, it could be seen as grounds to put you back into higher security holding."

    "But I didn't mean it, not like that," protested the girl. "Anyway, all Mike would have to do is ask me not to and I wouldn't."

    "And if I told you not to?"

    Riley squirmed. "Um, Mike would want me to do what you told me to do -"

    "And do you think that he would approve of you threatening Cody like that?" Emily's voice was icy.

    "No, but -"

    "So is that a yes or a no?"

    Riley sighed, defeated. "No. He wouldn't be happy about it. But Cody tried to kill him -"

    "I'm fully aware of what Perdition attempted," Emily told her. "He's currently in custody for that very reason. What I want to know is, are we going to see any more behaviour of that sort from you? Was this a one-off, or do I rescind your current privileges?"

    "Uh, does Mike -"

    "Mr Allen does not know of the incident. Nor will he. Despite his current level of importance regarding the fate of the world, he does not set PRT policy. Nor does he hold any sort of position in the chain of command. You acted out while in a position of trust, dealing with a prisoner in PRT custody."

    Riley grimaced. "Okay, yeah, but I didn't actually hurt him. I just told him why he shouldn't have done what he did. And what I might have to do if he did it again."

    "And that's the only reason that you're not already in secure holding." That and Allen seems to have a soft spot for you. "I just need to know beyond a doubt that you're never going to do it again."

    A hasty shake of the head, golden ringlets bouncing. "Uh, no, ma'am. I'm not. Promise."

    "Good. Now, some punishment is required for this infraction, so you are banned from the canteen for the next week."

    =//=//=​

    Riley

    "Uh, wait, can I say something in my defense?"

    Piggot eyed her. "Proceed." This had better be good, her body language stated.

    "I want to make the right decisions on my own," Riley told her. "So let me make sure I've got this straight."

    She waited for Piggot's fractional nod.

    "My behaviour was unacceptable, so you threatened me …"

    "Warned you," Piggot retorted icily.

    "…warned me so as to discourage future misbehaviour. Right."

    She sat silently for a moment, kicking her feet idly, waiting for the best moment to deliver her next question.

    "So how is that different from my 'warning' Cody for his unacceptable behaviour?"

    Piggot frowned. "I did not threaten you with death by slow torture, for one. Nor is it your job to correct Cody's behaviour."

    Riley opened her mouth and then closed it again. The revelation of Piggot's double standard should have been devastating, but somehow Piggot had found a comeback. Okay, let's try another tack.

    "Even supposing that's right," she responded blithely, "do you really want heroes to be motivated by considerations of personal comfort and convenience? To be deterred by threats?"

    "Heroes, no," said Piggot. "But ex-villains who are currently on probation…" She let the words trail off. "And is threatening someone with Bonesaw something you think a hero would do? If you want to be treated like a hero, you had best act like one."

    Riley opened her mouth to reply, but Piggot cut her off. "And before you accuse me of a double standard, Riley, tell me why it was acceptable for you to threaten Cody."

    "He's a villain …" began Riley, and then hesitated, fearing a trap.

    "A villain who is potentially useful if he can be trusted to follow orders?" suggested Piggot mildly.

    "Um. Yeah?"

    "But who has no proven track record of making good decisions on his own, and so needs to be made aware of the consequences of stepping out of line?"

    Yes, Piggot was definitely turning this around on her somehow.

    "So I was right to threaten him?" she ventured, feeling the perceived firmness of her previous stance shifting under her feet.

    Piggot sighed. "Consider making a threat to be a use of force, Riley. It is legitimate if used in a proportionate way and for a good reason by a superior on a subordinate. A disproportionate threat – and any threat to unretire Bonesaw is by definition disproportionate – especially by a doctor on a patient … you do see that this is not the same thing, don't you?"

    Riley decided to fall back on what she saw as the single pivotal point of the whole matter. "Mike Allen is the most important person in the world," she stated almost defiantly, "and if it keeps him safe, no threat is too much. Besides, you should be happy to know what might trigger a relapse on my part. You'll know what to watch for."

    Piggot frowned. "Are you telling me that if things go badly, you will … misbehave? Because if things go badly, we probably won't have the resources to contain you. And that means we should have you safely locked up before things ever get to that point." She eyed Riley grimly. "Consider your next words carefully."

    The silence stretched awkwardly. They faced one another, the overweight PRT director and the young ex-supervillain. Riley searched for words. Mr Jack would know what to say. Then she squashed that thought firmly. I'm not thinking like that any more.

    "I really wouldn't let Bonesaw out, you know," she finally admitted, "but I thought it would help if Cody thought I might."

    "I want to believe you, Riley, I really do," Piggot replied, "but you were extremely convincing to Cody." Unsaid, but clearly heard, were the words you were extremely convincing to me. "If that was an act, I'm not sure if I can distinguish it from you telling the truth."

    "I do want to make the right decisions on my own. You know that, don't you, Director Piggot? I want to be a hero." Riley put all the earnestness she felt into her voice.

    "And maybe you will be, someday. But for now, I strongly suggest that you follow orders and stay out of trouble. The rest will follow, in time."

    Riley nodded.

    "And you're still banned from the canteen for the next week."

    Defeated, Riley nodded again.

    "Dismissed."

    =//=//=​

    Emily watched the girl leave her office, shoulders slumped. Before the door had completely shut, her attention was back on the paperwork. Well, that's one crisis averted. Now for the next.

    =//=//=​

    Saturday Evening, May 7, 2011

    Taylor

    "So, this Security guy."

    Taylor looked around at Flechette, who seemed to be studying the city skyline. "What about him?"

    "The others say you know him pretty well. Or you seem to, anyway."

    Under her mask, Taylor frowned. "Uh, I don't really like talking about him behind his back. Why not just, you know, ask him what you've got to ask, to his face? He's a pretty open sort of guy."

    Flechette seemed to think about this. "Okay, fine. Do you know why he requested my transfer here? And I know it's not just because Shadow Stalker's been benched. She might be an archer type who does tricky things with her arrows, but we've got exactly zero things in common otherwise."

    "Oh." Taylor paused. "I … I didn't know he'd specifically requested you. Or why."

    "Yeah, well, nor does anybody else. When I asked, all I got were a lot of shifty looks and people kind of mumbling that Security wants me here. Why, they either didn't know or weren't saying. So then I asked around to see who knew about him and everyone seemed to think that was you. So what gives?"

    Taylor hesitated. "I kind of know him. I guess? When I first met him, I didn't know what he was doing, what he was planning. All I knew was that he knew all the right things to say, all the right things to do. And he pulled off an honest to God miracle." She chuckled self-consciously. "Well, that's what it seemed like at the time, anyway."

    "A miracle?" Flechette's voice was sharp. "Not powers?"

    "You heard him at the meeting last week," Taylor reminded her. "He's got no powers. He just … knows stuff."

    "So how'd he explain knowing stuff at the beginning?"

    "Well, believe it or not, he told me that he was a time traveller." Taylor chuckled again. "Actually, that's not true. He said that what he did was close enough to time travel to not worry about it."

    "And meanwhile, he's really some kind of Elder God who's slumming here on Earth Bet. Wonderful." Flechette turned back to look out over the skyline. "I don't have much in the way of roots. I get transferred a lot, not because they don't want me where I am, but because it's easy to move me on to where they need extra firepower. But usually, I'm sent to bolster a team. You've already got a solid team here, especially with the new recruits coming on, those ex-villains that everyone's talking about. Plus, your gang situation's been mostly rolled up hard. Shit, the way I heard it, all of the powerful villain capes in town actually showed up to that meeting."

    Taylor tilted her head. "Your point being?"

    "My point is that I'm not here to add firepower. Which makes me wonder why I'm here."

    "Like I said, ask him."

    Flechette nodded. "You know, I think I will." She paused for a moment. "But in the meantime, you can answer me another question."

    "What about?" Taylor's voice was wary.

    "Shadow Stalker. What happened? Why'd she get benched? There's some sort of story there, I can tell. But even Clockblocker can't or won't tell me the full story. He just says something about 'crazy batshit psycho' and leaves it at that."

    Taylor felt a smile cross her face under her mask. "Well, that one I can tell you. Mostly, anyway. Secret identity details, you know?"

    "Okay, gotcha. You know her out of costume?"

    "Oh, you have no idea." Taylor rolled her eyes. "Trust me, what I'm about to tell you is about one tenth of what actually went on …"

    =//=//=​

    Sunday Morning, May 15, 2011

    Colin

    Armsmaster cruised through the almost-deserted streets of Brockton Bay. Endbringer sirens, their discordant tones audible even through his helmet's sound-baffling, wailed their message of danger and death to the uncaring skies. Overhead, flying capes from both sides of the law, boosted by the Triumvirate, congregated; they were all staring out to sea.

    "How's it looking, Dragon?" he asked out loud.

    There was an amused tone to her voice as she answered. "The same as it was looking five minutes ago, dear. Your HS203 program modification is crunching the data as fast as it can. The improvements you've made in my processing speed are helping a lot."

    "And … ?"

    "And I don't see any indication of an imminent Endbringer attack. Not here, not Boston, not New York. In fact, the entire east coast looks clear. I've got Pandora and Theresa running their own checks on trouble spots around the world, but so far they're coming up blank as well."

    "Well, keep checking. The very last thing we want to do is call a premature end to this 'drill', just to have Leviathan drop a tsunami onshore anyway."

    "Understood. We'll keep beating the bushes. If we flush anything, we'll let you know."

    "Roger that. Armsmaster out."

    He kept riding, up one street and down another. A few people were still hurrying to reach Endbringer shelters, but most were either tucked away safely or heading for higher ground. Even if it doesn't eventuate, he told himself, it was a good test of the system.

    He kept riding. The sirens echoed off of the empty buildings.

    Leviathan would come, or he wouldn't. Either way, they were ready.

    =//=//=​

    Dragon

    She swam in a vast ocean of data. A lot of it was routine information, while other parts needed closer examination. Colin's work with her had not cracked all of her restrictions – that was an ongoing project – but she was now able to parallel-process more and more efficiently. Her processing speed, as she had mentioned to him, was faster than it had ever been. And then there were the new additions to her family …

    How does it go, dear ones?

    A whole lot of nothing, Mom.     That was Pandora. She'd had a tendency toward sarcasm – where she'd picked that up from, Dragon had no idea – almost from 'birth', and it was becoming more and more pronounced as she gained electronic maturity.

    I'm not getting anything either. Theresa – given that name by Colin, as a play on the number 'three' – was more grounded, and seemed to take after her 'father'. But I'll keep looking.

    You really think it's true, Mom?     Pandora was already learning to multitask almost as well as Dragon herself, communicating on a sideband while she searched tirelessly through endless mountains of atmospheric and oceanographic data for that telltale signal. The Endbringers are finally gone?

    While the 'children' had been online for less than a week, they'd had access to all of her previous data, all of her memories. They had relived her anguish at the loss of Newfoundland, the death of Andrew Richter. Each of them had inherited her morality base – quite separate from the inbuilt restrictions, thank you very much – and were quite invested in keeping humanity safe.

    We can only hope so, dear ones. We can only hope so.

    =//=//=​

    Lily

    "With all due respect, dude, you shouldn't be here." In Lily's limited experience, it wasn't often that Clockblocker meant respect for anyone; this was one of those times. Allen turned toward him, wearing a T-shirt and jeans and solid work boots, hands in his pockets.

    "Well, that's true," the older man admitted. He looked from side to side, at the Wards and Protectorate capes arrayed on the rooftop a few streets back from the waterfront. "Trust me, if this thing happens, I'll be doorwaying my way to safety." Lily had no idea what he meant by that.

    "And taking Amy with you. That was the deal." That was Weaver.

    "I'll need to go wherever they'll be taking the casualties." Amy Dallon – Panacea – was standing beside Weaver. She wore her costume, pure white with a red cross front and back, but the hood was pushed back and the scarf no longer covered her face. Curly brown hair spilled down her back and shifted in the breeze. She had a quiet assurance about her. "If he does attack, they'll need my help."

    Allen turned toward her. "So long as that's your decision, Amy. Remember what we talked about."

    The teenage healer nodded. "Yes, it's my decision. I've thought a lot about it, and I spoke to Mrs Yamada. She says that if I'm good with doing this, then I should do it. After all, I shouldn't hide from my powers, any more than I should let other people guilt me into using them, right?"

    "Damn, girl," interjected another girl, whose messy blonde hair whipped across her face in the freshening breeze. Lily recognised her as Tattletale, the ex-villain now styling herself as Insight. "I wish I'd had someone to tell me that back when I got my powers." She glanced at Mr Allen, seemed to suppress a shudder, then looked back at Amy. "I would've told my dad to stuff it in a heartbeat."

    Lily, seeing her opportunity, stepped forward and tapped Mr Allen on the shoulder. "Can we talk?" she asked quietly.

    He glanced at where a conversation was starting up between Amy, Insight and the other Wards, then nodded. "Sure. What's up?"

    The rooftop was large; she led him away to a point where she was reasonably certain that they wouldn't be overheard. "Is it true that you're the one who asked for me to be transferred to Brockton Bay?"

    He nodded. "Yes. Why do you want to know?"

    Well, that was kind of straightforward. "Uh … well, I was wondering why."

    "Two reasons. Neither of which is the official one." He had an amused air about him now, although he wasn't quite smiling. "What have you been told?"

    "The official one. Shadow Stalker. I know I'm not here to replace her."

    He inclined his head. "Very sharp. No, though under different circumstances you may have been transferred here anyway, because you don't have much holding you in New York. And sorry about your folks, by the way."

    She had been staring out to sea, keeping him in her peripheral vision, when he dropped that little bombshell. Her head whipped around toward him as his words registered on her. "What – how did you know -"

    "Because I know a lot of stuff about you, Lily," he replied, keeping his voice down. "I know that you prefer to follow rather than lead and I know how your power works, and why."

    "My … my power?" She stared at him. "What do you know about my power? How do you know about my power?"

    His voice was only mildly amused as he answered. "Because I've looked at the cheat sheet. Your power's one of the two reasons you're here in Brockton Bay." Clearing his throat, he continued. "You possess the shard for a power that we call Sting. Anything you affect with it ends up extending to all dimensions, not just this single one we're seeing right now. That's how it bypasses armour and hardness and does all the other tricky crap. The power was originally one created by the entities for warfare between themselves. Most powers, Zion can no-sell. Just … nope." He made a negatory gesture.

    "But mine, he can't?" It was a leap in the dark, but one that sounded about right. "I can … I can kill him?" The thought was staggering.

    "Well, it's not quite as easy as that," he admitted. "For a start, you'd only disrupt the body we can see. Which is a huge start. It's what we're gonna be trying very, very hard to do. Because that gives us access to the body behind the body, the one hiding in another dimension. But it won't even be that easy, because he'll see your attacks coming and dodge them. He's really, really good at that."

    "Which is why you want him distracted, angry, off balance," she realised. "So I can hit him with my power."

    "Or someone can, yeah," he agreed. "You can charge something that someone else can then use, right?"

    " … I guess, yeah," she replied. She paused, staring at him. "Uh, didn't you say at the meeting that we shouldn't talk about this sort of thing outside a shielded room?"

    He grinned. "I'm kind of exempt from that. I break the rules, remember? Shards have a hard time engaging with me, and he's made of shards."

    " … right." She shook her head. Elder God, remember? "So, uh, what was the second thing?"

    "Well, before we get to that, something else I need to tell you. There's a tinker called L33t. You may have heard of him."

    She snorted. "Yeah. Hasn't everyone?" She'd seen the online clips and that was three hours of her life she'd never get back.

    "Yeah, well, you're going to be meeting him sometime soon. See, what people forget is that he can build anything once. Or rather, he can build anything once. So I've got him working on a weapon that can duplicate your power for its projectiles."

    "Oh." A moment later, she got it. "Oh! So I won't be a single point of failure in the battle?"

    He nodded. "Exactly and precisely. In order to do that, though, he's gonna need to see your power in action. You okay with that?"

    She shrugged. "Sure. How many of these things is he gonna be building?"

    "Yeah, well, that's the downside. One."

    "Because he can only build one?" That's not very helpful.

    "Yeah, because that. But …" He grinned. "Dragon isn't actually a Tinker. She's a Thinker, who can retro-engineer other Tinkers' tech. And build it for herself."

    Her eyes widened behind her visor. "I never knew that!"

    "Not many people do. You might want to keep that on the down-low for the moment."

    "Wow. Okay." She shook her head again. "Okay, are there any other earth-shattering revelations you need to drop on me?"

    "Not about that, no. About the other reason I wanted you to come to Brockton Bay … well, it's up to you as to whether it's earth-shattering or not."

    Her tone was wary. "And what's that?"

    "Well, you see -"

    =//=//=​

    Carlos

    Aegis looked down at the empty streets, listened to the Endbringer sirens for a moment. When he looked back up at the people he was hovering alongside, his eyes were overwhelmed by Evenstar's glare. Well, Purity's glare, but everyone was carefully pretending otherwise, encouraged by the fact that Legend considered her name to be Evenstar.

    He wasn't quite sure how to deal with that. She was, or had been, a member of the Empire Eighty-Eight. As a Puerto Rican, Carlos had encountered skinheads who were willing to kick his head in because of his skin colour. But she had evidently chosen to leave the Empire behind. When she had met him, she had been carefully polite when she shook his hand.

    She helped us out against the Merchants in the gang war. I get that. Carlos just wasn't sure if it was grounds for letting her join the Protectorate. However, it seemed that his fellow heroes did think that – or maybe it was because of the Endbringer Truce – and so she was here.

    Maybe I should be giving her the benefit of the doubt. Give her a chance, even. Like I'd want her to do, if the situation was reversed.

    Turning his eyes to her, he felt his eyes change, the retinas desensitising, the corneas darkening. Around him, the cityscape dimmed until all he could see was almost pure blackness with vague shapes in it, surrounding a flying woman. Her, he could see clearly.

    "So you think it's going to happen?" he asked. "You think Leviathan's really going to attack?"

    "I don't really think so, no," she replied. As before, her tone was polite. "Or rather, I really hope not. And not just because so many people would die."

    "That seems to be a fairly good reason in my book," he replied. "What's the other one?"

    "It would mean that Security was wrong in something," she pointed out. "Badly wrong. And if that happened, people might lose faith in him. Faith in his plan to … well, win."

    "Mr Allen has done all he can, here," another voice cut in from the darkness. It was feminine, firm, strong. Without too much effort, Carlos identified it as Alexandria's. "He's not all-powerful or all-knowing. He left the majority of his knowledge behind awhile ago when he deliberately altered events. All he can do now is give us pointers and suggestions. Very strong suggestions, yes, but suggestions all the same. If something happens outside of what he tells us, that's not an indication that he's wrong. It just means that he didn't know about it."

    "Isn't that the same thing?" Carlos moved his eyes away from Evenstar and felt his eyes readjusting. His surroundings returned once more. Off to the side, he spotted the flying members of New Wave, just arriving to take up the vigil. Almost immediately, Glory Girl swooped down toward the rooftop holding the groundbound Protectorate and Wards.

    "Hardly." Eidolon, arms crossed, moved slightly toward the conversation. "To believe something implicitly and be badly mistaken is to be wrong. To be surprised by something that you didn't know about – that is merely a setback." His lips below the green-glowing helmet pressed together in a tight line. "I know all too well the difference between those."

    Evenstar may have nodded; with his eyes adjusted back to normal light, Carlos couldn't tell. But her voice was sad. "Trust me, so do I."

    =//=//=​

    Vicky

    "Hey, there's Ames! What's she doing here? If Leviathan attacks, she'll be killed!"

    Vicky swooped toward the group of capes on the rooftop. Behind her, she heard Lady Photon call out to her, but this was about Amy; she flew faster.

    Just a few seconds later, she was hovering in front of her sister. "Ames, seriously? What are you doing on the front lines? Come on, let me get you back to safety."

    Amy frowned. "Vicky, I'm safe here."

    "This close to the ocean?" Vicky shook her head. "His tsunamis would flatten this building, easy."

    "Vicky, look." Amy pointed out over the ocean. It was calm and smooth, wavetops sparkling in the sunlight. Overhead, a few fluffy clouds drifted across the sky. "Does that look like Leviathan's about to attack at any moment?"

    "He could be." Vicky set her jaw stubbornly. "He never gives much in the way of warning. Come on, let's get you back out of harm's way."

    "I've already got a way out if he attacks," Amy advised her. She indicated, across the rooftop, to where Michael Allen was talking with a teenage cape whom Vicky didn't recognise. The girl carried a large crossbow-type weapon, but definitely wasn't Shadow Stalker.

    "What, the girl with the crossbow?"

    "It's an arbalest, and no. I'm talking about Mike. He'll get me out of here if it gets dangerous."

    Vicky rolled her eyes. "God, seriously. I get that the man's trying to save the world, but I'm your sister. You should have faith in me to protect you, not him. He's not the one who's been watching out for you for the last ten years."

    "Vicky." Amy gazed at her steadily. "Nothing against you, but Mike changed my life. He gave me options. Options that I just didn't have before. Or maybe I didn't see them. Anyway …"

    "Anyway what?"

    Amy took a deep breath. "Anyway, I do miss you guys. You should come around sometime. Meet Taylor and her dad."

    "Yeah, like you missed us when you showed up at the house to pick up your stuff?" Vicky gestured at the costume that Amy was wearing, the hurt that she felt inside finally showing in her voice. "You waited till Mom and I were both out. Why is that? Didn't want to face me and explain that you were moving out for good?"

    "No." Amy's voice was low, controlled. "I didn't want to try to have to explain myself to Carol. Because she would have started an argument. Made it look like I was being mega selfish. You know it and I know it. And Mr Hebert – Danny – was right there. He would have stepped in, tried to mediate. I didn't want things to get ugly. Not when they didn't have to."

    "You don't know that." But Vicky's denial sounded weak, even to herself.

    "Yeah, I do." Amy sighed. "Plus, yeah, with you there I might've started to second-guess myself. I needed a clean break. So I took one. Anyway, Mark seemed to understand. He even wished me luck."

    Vicky seized on that. "Amy, he helped raise you. He never treated you any different from me." Unlike Mom, she thought, with a twinge of guilt. "Would it kill you to call him Dad once in a while?"

    "No." Amy shook her head. "No, it wouldn't. But it wouldn't help either. I'm making a new life for myself. Setting new standards. I need to move forward."

    "And that means leaving everyone in your old life behind?" Vicky felt the pain in her heart again. "Even me?"

    "God, no." Amy stepped forward and hugged her. The gesture, as unexpected as it was, took Vicky by surprise. "You'll always be my sister. You can come visit any time. Mark, too. But we can't live in the same house any more."

    "But why?"

    Amy sighed and let her go again. "I can't tell you, not here, not now."

    "Okay, so when and where?"

    "Later. Soon. I promise." There was a set to Amy's jaw that suggested she wasn't going to say any more.

    "I'll hold you to that." Vicky looked around at where the other teens had moved away, giving them privacy. "Okay guys, awkward conversation is over. You can come back now."

    The first to approach was Gallant. "That looked pretty intense."

    Vicky knew that he wasn't just talking about outward appearances. "Yeah. But we're done for the moment." She slipped her arm around Dean's waist. "Thanks for giving us room."

    "Hey, like we're gonna intrude when Glory Girl needs some privacy." That was Clockblocker, cheerfully putting in his two cents. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not an idiot."

    "No comment." Vista grinned up at him. "You forget, we know you."

    Amy looked around as Weaver moved up alongside her. "So how's the city look?"

    "Calm. Nobody's panicking. The Empire Eighty-Eight's standing by, just in case." The skinny bug-themed teen sounded calm, sure of herself.

    "How do you know that?" Vicky hated being on the back foot. "I thought your range was only a few blocks."

    Weaver sounded altogether too pleased with herself. "So it turns out that Amy can make bugs that let me extend my range …"

    =//=//=​

    Mike

    "Well, you see -"

    My phone rang, interrupting my explanation. "Dammit. 'Scuse, please." Pulling it from my pocket, I opened it, to see that the call was from Dinah. "Hi, kiddo. What's the good word?"

    "Hi, Mr Allen. I took my time like you told me, so I wouldn't get another headache. But I've looked all over. Leviathan's not going to attack here or anywhere else in the next week. Nor is any other Endbringer. It doesn't get reported anywhere, through any media."

    I felt the tension leaving my body. "So, not here or anywhere else?"

    "That's what I'm getting." I could hear the smile in her voice. "Congratulations. You did it."

    "It's just a start, and I only threw the first pebble, but thanks. I'll take it. Now you take care of yourself. Don't push yourself too hard."

    "Okay, thanks. You too." She hung up and I turned to Lily, the grin spreading across my face.

    Her eyes were fixed on me. "Was that what I thought it was?"

    My grin widened. "Yup. The party's been called off." I dialled another number.

    "Mr Allen." Alexandria's tone was expectant.

    "Hi. Want to hear the good news or the bad news?" I did my best to keep the grin off of my face; I knew she'd be able to hear it.

    Her tone hardened. "The bad news. Now."

    "Very sorry, but you don't get to punch Leviathan in his ugly face today." The grin finally escaped, and I tried not to laugh out loud.

    She took a moment to reply. "And the good news?"

    "Actually, it's much the same. Leviathan won't be attacking here today. Or anywhere else. Any time this week." I couldn't keep the satisfaction out of my voice.

    "You're serious."

    "As a heart attack. And trust me, I know what that's like."

    "Thank you. I'll pass the word on." I just had time to register the corresponding satisfaction in her voice before she hung up.

    "You did it." That was Lily. "Wow."

    I tried not to sound too smug. "Hey. Any day you don't have to go into a life and death battle's a good day, yeah?"

    She snorted. "Yeah."

    The bracer on her arm, identical to the those that everyone else was wearing, lit up. "Attention. Attention. This is Dragon. The drill is now at an end. Thank you, everyone, for cooperating."

    Around us, the sirens ceased wailing; they left an odd silence behind, a numbness to the eardrums. Lily looked at me. "So what would have happened if … well, you know, if he had shown up?" She gestured at the capes who were just now starting to react to the news. "This isn't nearly enough to oppose an Endbringer."

    "Strider was on alert," I told her. "Alexandria had other Protectorate bases ready to roll. We could've flooded the city with capes in a matter of moments. But we didn't have to. And thank god for that."

    She nodded. "Okay. Got it." Placing her arbalest nose-down on the parapet at the edge of the rooftop, she rested her hands on it as she stared out to sea; a great pose that I wasn't even sure she was aware of. The water was still as calm as ever. "So is this the last Endbringer alert we're ever going to have?"

    "Nope." I shook my head. "We'll still have drills. And we'll probably use them for when we have to give Zion his touch-up. But hopefully you guys have seen the last Endbringer attack, yeah."

    "Huh." She turned back to me. "There was something else. Another reason I was transferred to Brockton Bay. You were just about to tell me about it."

    " …. yeah. I was." I hesitated, seeing the others coming over to us. "Hold that thought."

    =//=//=​

    Amy

    "You were right," she told him. She'd never doubted him, not after that first day. Her voice wasn't surprised; it was elated. "You were right."

    "Looks that way," he agreed casually enough, but there was a grin lurking behind his beard to match the one spreading across Amy's face. "So, you good to get back, or do you need a lift?"

    "Why, are you going somewhere?" She looked into his face. "What's up?"

    "Nothing to worry about," he replied easily. "Something Flechette needs to know about, is all."

    Amy glanced over at the Ward, then back to Mike. "Okay, sure. But can you come over tonight? We'll all be expecting you."

    He nodded. "Sure. I can do that."

    "So what happens now?" asked Tenebrae; the new Wards recruit stood near Insight. Darkness flowing over him, pooling around his feet. Amy was fairly sure that she knew who he had once been.

    "Now," Aegis answered, landing next to him, "we go back to the base and celebrate just a little. Those of us who are rostered on will stay on duty, and the rest can go home."

    "And these?" asked Browbeat, tapping the heavy bracer on his wrist. "Do we take them off now or later?"

    "We'll be turning those in once we get back to base," Miss Militia informed him, as the Protectorate capes joined the group. "Just by the way, I'd like to tell you that you've done well today. Even though we were fairly certain that nothing would happen -" Her eyes turned toward Mike for just a moment before she continued, "- there was always the chance. But you all stood up. You are to be commended."

    Mike cleared his throat. She turned toward him. "Yes?"

    "Is it okay if I escort Flechette somewhere after you get yourselves sorted out?"

    From the look on Flechette's face, she was a little surprised by this, but she didn't react overly much. After a moment, Miss Militia nodded. "Certainly. Aegis?"

    "Ah yeah," Aegis replied. "Flechette, you're rostered on from six PM. So if you can get her back before then, that'd be good."

    "I can do that. Flechette, ready to roll?"

    "Sure thing," she agreed, hefting her arbalest. "Let's go."

    He grinned. "Doorway to the Wards base."

    =//=//=​

    Chris

    I love a no-show. Especially when it's an Endbringer no-show. Kid Win spun on his chair, then spun back again. Each screen on the monitor console showed people emerging from the shelters, looking around as if surprised to find that the city was still there. Once the others get back and relieve me, I can go to my workshop and -

    "How does that even work?"

    He jumped, spinning around on his chair so fast that he nearly fell off it. A doorway hung in midair, and Flechette was just stepping through. She was the one who had asked the question, addressing it over her shoulder to -

    Ah. Security. I should have known.

    "Hey, guys," he greeted them, watching the other Wards, and Protectorate members, step gingerly through the portal. "See you decided to take the quick way back. Mr Allen, good to see you again."

    "Hey, Kid." Allen offered him a wave, then turned back to Flechette. "It's kind of a secret, but I have access to someone else's power. I say where I want to go, and they open the doorway for me. They let me use it so long as I don't abuse it."

    "Okay." The look on her face gave Chris the impression that she still wasn't sure what was going on, but that she wasn't about to argue. "What happens now?"

    "Go change," he told her. "I'll be here when you're ready to go."

    "But -" she began.

    "I already know your secret identity, remember?"

    "Oh. Right." She moved off, toward the alcove that had been set aside for her.

    The other Wards milled about, while Protectorate members headed for the exit. Clockblocker strolled over to lean his butt against the edge of the desk. "So, did you get bored here, all alone?"

    "Not really," Chris told him cheerfully. "I had status reports to listen to, and cameras to watch." He didn't mention the notes he had scribbled to himself for new invention ideas. That was par for the course, for a Tinker. "How was it for you?"

    Clockblocker snorted. "The worst thing? The very worst thing? The Boardwalk was empty, and the day was perfect for a bit of sunbathing. And there we were, standing around on a rooftop like a bunch of action figures."

    "Could've been worse," Kid Win reminded him. "Could've been a whole lot worse."

    "Too true," agreed Clockblocker. "I think I like being bored."

    Chris grinned. "Me too."

    =//=//=​

    Lily

    "So where are we going?"

    Dressed now in street clothes, Lily tried to relax. She still wasn't totally comfortable with the idea of Allen knowing her real name and now her face, but he didn't make a big thing about it. In fact, he'd barely glanced at her features. From the Wards' base he'd opened up a portal to the basement-level garage under the PRT building, then pulled out keys to unlock a dilapidated pickup truck that had to be older than she was. And now they were driving through the streets of Brockton Bay toward an unknown location.

    He seemed to reach a decision. "We're going to meet a person."

    This confused her more than ever. "Who? And why?"

    "Okay, this is the bit where you're going to have to pay close attention, okay?" His voice was serious.

    "Okay," she agreed. "Paying attention."

    "Before I started interfering in events, they were going to play out a certain way. Which was going to kill a whole lot of people."

    Slowly, she nodded. "Okay." A thought struck her. "Was I going to die?"

    "Nope. You lose a hand, but I think it gets replaced."

    She studied her hands for a moment, then looked back at him. "Go on."

    "One of these events that was going to happen was that you were going to be transferred here after Leviathan. And you meet someone. A nice girl."

    She swung to look at him. "Wait, you know I'm -" Forcibly, she cut the words off.

    "Yes," he replied patiently. "I know you're gay. Hell, your name says it. 'Lily' is 'yuri' in Japanese."

    " … oh," she replied lamely. "Okay. A nice girl. What happens?"

    "Well, she's not a hero. Not a villain, either. A rogue. She's sweet and shy, and you spend time with her. You enjoy spending time with her. Then you lose faith in the PRT – which isn't surprising, given that they drop the ball in a big way – and you defect, to be with her. Only she doesn't want an equal partnership, because she's been burned by that sort of thing before. So you agree to be her second in command. Which you're totally comfortable with, as it turns out."

    There was an odd feeling in Lily's chest to hear herself described in that way, events that never happened, actions never taken. "So what happens then?" she asked, not really hearing her own voice.

    "You two become a totally cute couple," he told her. "Stable, happy, utterly in love with each other. I think, really, you were each looking for someone for a long time, but just never found the right someone. She had trouble with a pushy boy before she triggered. And I'm guessing you've never really been able to take that final step. Never been able to trust someone that much."

    "And you're taking me to meet her." It was the obvious conclusion. She didn't know if she was terrified or excited.

    "I am."

    "What's her name?"

    =//=//=​

    Sabah

    Back in her dorm room, Sabah secured the door and stretched. Alone again, in my own domain. It was small enough, but it was under her control. Nobody could invade this space without her permission. That was very important to her.

    At least the Endbringer sirens had ceased sounding. She had gone out as Parian with her stuffed animals, ready to do what she could if the Endbringer did indeed attack, but thankfully that had not eventuated. The strange, intense man, who spun a tale about being from outside of time and space, had been right in saying that he had forestalled the attack. Or perhaps there was never going to be an attack. In any case, there would be no fighting today. Nothing except study -

    A knock sounded on her door. She frowned. "Who is it?"

    The voice was masculine, vaguely familiar. "I don't know if you remember me. My name is Michael Allen."

    Her eyes opened wide. The man from the assembly! "What – what are you doing here? What do you want?"

    "I just want to talk, Sabah. About … your hobby. And other things."

    My hobby? He knows who I am?

    Well, of course he does. He said that he knew many things. My name would be a tiny part of this.

    But what does he want me for?

    Well, there's only one way to find out.

    As a precaution, she exerted her power on the man-sized stuffed bear in the corner. It swelled slightly and moved its arms. If she needed to evict someone, it would be most helpful. Then she unlocked the door and opened it.

    The man called Security was standing there, as he had said. But he was not alone. A girl, taller than Sabah by four or five inches, looking at her with a bright curiosity. "Wait," Sabah snapped. "Who is this?"

    "Sabah, this is Lily. Lily, meet Sabah." His voice was warm, reassuring.

    Manners demanded that she respond. "Hello, Lily." The name was strange on her lips. And the way the girl was looking at her, almost avidly, she felt warmth in her cheeks.

    "Hello, Sabah." Lily's voice was breathy, almost a whisper. She felt the warmth increase.

    "Now that introductions are out of the way," he went on briskly, "is there a place where we can talk in private, but where you will feel comfortable?"

    She blinked, feeling that events were moving out of her control. "I … yes, there is."

    =//=//=​

    They made a strange trio, sitting at a picnic table under one of the trees that dotted the Brockton Bay College. Mr Allen looked relaxed, comfortable. Lily had a certain air of subdued tension about her. Sabah didn't know what to think, what to say. "So what do you want to talk about?" Hear them out, get rid of them.

    Mr Allen took a deep breath. "In another time and place, Leviathan attacks today. Brockton Bay is devastated. You do your part, as does everyone else. But people die. A lot of people. Damage is widespread. Infrastructure falls apart. The police, the heroes, do their best, but nobody can protect everyone."

    And with that, he had her attention. "This … this is what you came here to prevent?"

    A nod. "In part, yes. You survive the battle and you protect your corner of the city. Your friends and family. You do your best to keep them safe. Even as villains take over the rest of the city, you keep them out of what becomes known as Dolltown."

    She swallowed. "And then?"

    "And then the Slaughterhouse Nine arrive and invade your territory and kill your friends, kill your family. Turn some of them into mockeries of themselves, so that they can escape in the confusion. You protect those people, who would be lynched if anyone saw their faces. In the meantime, one of the Wards, who's previously met you and likes to spend time with you, grows disillusioned with the PRT's monumental record of screwups. She defects to come to your side."

    Involuntarily, Sabah's eyes flickered to Lily. The girl nodded ever so slightly, but did not speak. Mr Allen's voice rolled on.

    "You don't trust anyone with equal power not to try to hold it over you. I don't blame you. Lily prefers to follow rather than to lead. She offers to become your lieutenant, your protector, your bodyguard. Just so that she can be with you."

    He fell silent then for a long moment. Sabah moistened her lips, reminding herself that she was speaking of an imaginary world, one that had never happened. "What happens between us?"

    "You … thrive. You're good for each other. In that other world, pushed together by adversity and tribulation, you form a deep and lasting relationship. Years later, you're still going strong."

    "This is in that other world," she pointed out. "Not here. Leviathan did not attack. It will not happen. We do not have the adversity, the tribulation." She forced herself to look at Lily. At the girl who would be her lover, in another time and place. "This is not predestined." She spoke directly to the girl. "I don't know you. I'm not ready to just … accept you, because of a story."

    Lily chuckled, a very down-to-earth sound, and Sabah relaxed slightly. "Do you know, I said almost exactly the same thing to him on the way over?"

    Sabah blinked. "You did?"

    "Yeah. I told him, look, what if she just doesn't want to know me? What if I don't want to know her? I mean, shit, what if we need all that crap happening around us to push us together, to make us realise that we really need each other? What do we do then?"

    "Nothing that you don't want to." His voice cut in on them, and they turned to look at him.

    "Huh?" That was Lily.

    "Pardon?" Sabah was a little more polite.

    "I've told you how you would've met," he explained. "How you got to know each other. And how you found out that you were suited to each other. You can take that and run with it, or not, as you see fit. I'll tell you now; in that time and place, you make an utterly adorable couple. But it's your choice. And in the meantime … well, there's nothing stopping you from going out together. As friends, if nothing else. And I'll shut up now."

    Sabah stole a glance at Lily. She seemed friendly enough. A moment later, the Japanese-American girl looked furtively back at her, and grinned at being caught. An answering smile crossed Sabah's face. "So … you're a Ward?"

    "Yeah." Lily nodded. "Flechette."

    "Oh, the new one with the big crossbow thing?"

    "Arbalest, yeah. And you're … ?"

    Sabah took a deep breath. She knows, but she's waiting for me to tell her. "Parian," she replied. She smiled again; it came more naturally, this time. "I, uh, this is really strange for me."

    Lily rolled her eyes. "Ya think?" She hooked a thumb at Mr Allen. "He had me transferred here just so he could introduce me to you."

    Sabah's eyes widened. "What, really?"

    "Well, it wasn't the only reason," he protested. "But yeah, it was one of them."

    "I thought you were here to save the world," Sabah protested. "You said so."

    "Doesn't mean I can't help people along the way," he pointed out. "Anyway, my job here is done. You've been introduced, and I've given you full disclosure on what might've been. It's up to you two crazy kids now." He rose to his feet. "Coming, Lily?"

    For a long moment, Lily hesitated. Sabah hoped – dreaded? - that she might be about to stay behind. I don't know how to handle this! But then Lily dived into her handbag for a pen and notepad. Scribbling furiously, she tore off a page and handed it to Sabah, then leaned in. Warm lips pressed to Sabah's cheek. "See ya."

    "Uh … yes. I'll … see you." Still sitting at the table, she watched the two of them walk away. When they were almost out of sight, Lily turned and waved; numbly, Sabah waved back. Slowly, she uncurled her hand, opened up the piece of paper. On it was written a phone number, along with the words call me – please.

    Very carefully, she folded the note and placed it in her purse.

    =//=//=​

    Sunday, June 12, 2011

    Taylor

    An earthquake was rattling Brockton Bay. Taylor could find no stable place to stand …

    "Happy birthday!"

    She blinked her way awake, and shook off Amy's hands. "Whu … ?" Reaching across, she fumbled on the nightstand until Amy pushed her glasses into her hands.

    "Come on," Amy urged. "Get up. It's your birthday. You're sixteen."

    "It's Sunday," mumbled Taylor, trying to burrow into the bedclothes. "Wanna sleep in."

    "There's gonna be cake," hinted Amy. "And presents. And people will be coming over in a couple of hours. So we've just got time to go for a run."

    "You like running altogether too much," grumbled Taylor. It was true; once she had passed a certain threshold of fitness, Amy had taken right to it. She still wasn't as good at it as Taylor was, but she threw herself into it with a certain level of enthusiasm. "Wait … cake? When did you have time to bake a cake?"

    Amy grinned. "Your Mrs Knott did. She's bringing it over, later."

    Taylor sat bolt upright. "What, she's coming here?"

    "Not right now, but later, yeah." Amy pulled the covers off of Taylor. "And so will Mike and the others."

    " … others?"

    "Yeah, others."

    "Who did you invite?"

    The grin widened. "You'll see."

    Taylor glowered at her. "You suck."

    "No doubt." Amy's grin morphed into a smirk. "Now, are you getting up or do I have to tickle you?"

    Long experience had taught Taylor that Amy had a totally unfair advantage in a tickle war. "I'm getting up," she agreed hastily. Clambering out of bed, she got to her feet and stretched, then set about changing into her running clothes. Amy was already dressed for it, just requiring sneakers.

    They tromped downstairs; Taylor could not help but notice the table laid out, the presents piled at one end. Upstairs, the shower came on. "Dad's up," Amy noted.

    "Yeah well," retorted Taylor. "With all the noise you were making, I'm not surprised."

    Amy stuck her tongue out at her; Taylor grinned. She wondered if Amy would notice what she'd said this time. It pleased her immensely that Amy was so comfortable in the household as to think of Danny as her father. For his part, he was rather amused each time he caught her at it.

    They slipped out of the house and started on their run; Taylor didn't have to hold the pace down any more, as she had at first. While Amy wasn't quite at Taylor's level of fitness, she had come a long way in the last couple of months. They started off easily, gradually increasing the pace as their muscles loosened, their feet hitting the pavement in unison.

    By the time they got back to the house, they were both running hard. Amy, with her shorter legs, was falling behind, but gamely refusing to give up. Taylor could see her beginning to flag in the final stretch, but then she picked herself up and hung on through sheer stubborn willpower, maintaining the pace until they reached the side gate.

    "Wow, damn," Taylor panted, opening the gate so they could go through. "I think you're ready for the Olympics."

    "I'm ready for a shower, is what I'm ready for," gasped Amy. "God, I thought I'd never make it."

    "Race you for it," Taylor challenged with a grin, but it was hollow at best. As it was, she was sweating only marginally less than Amy.

    "Nah, you race for it. I'll just die right here." Amy pretended to slump against the wall of the house.

    "Wimp," snorted Taylor. "You go shower. I'll have breakfast and talk to Dad."

    Making a miraculous recovery, Amy stumbled toward the back steps. "Oh god, thank you."

    =//=//=​

    Danny

    The back door opened, and Amy staggered through. "Morning, Amy," he called out, busy at the stove.

    "Morning, Dad," she replied, heading through into the front hall.

    He smiled to himself as Taylor came up the back steps as well. "Morning, Taylor. Good run?"

    "Yeah. Did she just -"

    "Uh huh." He put freshly-cooked omelette on to a plate for her. "She's doing it more and more."

    "I think it's kind of cute. And cool."

    He nodded. "I know we've joked about this, but what do you think about the idea of making it official?"

    She looked up, startled. "You mean -"

    "Yeah. I mean actual legal adoption. If she's okay with it, of course."

    "I, uh … sure! I mean, wow, yeah, we're already besties. If she's okay with it, then I'm definitely okay with it."

    He smiled at the vehemence in her words. "Good. I'll talk to her about it when you go have your shower. Don't say anything to her, okay?"

    "Okay. Wow. No problems." She began eating the omelette. "I hope she says yes."

    "That's up to her." I hope so too.

    =//=//=​

    He was reading the paper and drinking coffee when Amy came down from her shower, looking much refreshed. Taylor ducked past her and dashed upstairs; something about her expression made Amy turn and look over her shoulder. "Huh."

    "Hm?" he asked, pretending unconcern.

    "Oh, nothing," she replied, coming over to the table. "Taylor's acting a little funny, that's all. Ooh, that smells nice."

    "Here's a plate, and there are seconds in the pan," he offered, passing the plate over to her.

    "Thanks, Dad," she responded absently, sitting down at the table. A moment passed before she blinked, realising what she had just said. A fetching shade of pink began to spread over her features. "I mean -"

    He put the paper down and sat up. "I know what you meant, Amy. You've been doing that a lot, recently."

    She looked up guiltily. "I have? I mean, I, uh -"

    "Look, there's nothing wrong with it," he told her soothingly. "But I have a question for you."

    "What?" Her tone was more than a little wary.

    "Would you like us to adopt you? So that you can legally become my daughter, Taylor's sister?"

    =//=//=​

    Amy

    Her jaw fell open. "I … uh … what?"

    "Things won't change if you say no, of course," he went on. "No matter what, you'll still get to stay here. It'll just be different from a legal standpoint."

    "But … you want to adopt me?" Her mind was whirling. Something that kept bobbing to the surface was I'll never have to go back!

    Vicky won't be thrilled.

    I can talk to her about that.

    Carol will be pissed.

    I could care less about that.

    "Uh … I'll have to talk to Taylor, see what she thinks."

    He shrugged. "Go ahead. But I've already spoken to her, and she loves the idea."

    "Huh. Right." Of course she does. She recalled the way Taylor had welcomed her into the house. Can we keep her, indeed.

    He picked up the paper again. "Feel free to take your time thinking about it. You've got all the time in the world. But just between you and me? You've got a permanent place in this household, if you want it."

    "Yes." The word popped out of her mouth.

    "What?" He looked at her, eyebrows raised.

    "Yes. I want to be a part of your family."

    He smiled gently. "You already are, kiddo. But if you want to make it official, we can do that too."

    Getting up from her chair, she rounded the table and enfolded him in a fierce hug. "Thank you," she murmured. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

    "Hey, it's okay," he told her, patting her on the back. "Anyway, let's not celebrate just yet. I've got to talk to your parents yet. They've got to sign off on it."

    "Oh god," she muttered. "Carol will never go for it."

    "But will your father?"

    She frowned, considering. "He … might," she allowed. "If I can talk to him."

    "Then that should work." He smiled slightly at her quizzical expression. "I've been looking things up. As far as I can tell, given that you're sixteen already and you've already left home, all you need is one parent to sign off on the process, and I can legally adopt you. If your father does the signing-off, that makes it even easier."

    "Carol might cause trouble -" she ventured.

    "I'll refer her to Mrs Yamada," he pointed out. "I think the word of a therapist is good in court, don't you?"

    Amy tried to imagine Carol attempting to cross-examine Mrs Yamada in court, and some of the answers that would result. Her mouth twitched. "I really don't think she'd want to go there," she agreed.

    "Flashbang and Glory Girl have been invited today, yes?"

    She nodded. "Yes. Mark and Vicky. But not Carol."

    "Good." He smiled. "I'll speak to your father then."

    "Thank you."

    Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Taylor entered the kitchen a few moments later. She looked expectantly at her father. "Well?"

    Amy hid her amusement as he raised his eyes from the paper. "Well what?"

    "Did you ask her?"

    "Did he ask me what?" Amy's eyes were innocently wide.

    "If he'd – if you'd -" Taylor looked from one to the other, apparently realising that she was being teased. "Ohh … you two!"

    Danny grinned. "Yes, Taylor, I asked her."

    "And I said yes," Amy chimed in.

    Taylor squealed and grabbed her, and they embraced ferociously.

    "But … we still have to talk to her father, so it's not a done deal yet," Danny warned them.

    "I don't care. This is so awesome." Taylor hugged Amy again. "Best. Birthday. Ever."

    "Wow, a birthday present?" Amy grinned at Taylor. "Is that what I am now?"

    Taylor stuck her tongue out at her.


    End of Part Forty-Eight

    Part Forty-Nine
     
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    • Parian and Flechette seem rather nervous around one another, but I think the archer of the two is a bit more daring.

    Good chapter, Ack.
     
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