Chapitre 1663: 51
Chapter Text
Whatever the National Guard was doing in her city, she had something more important to focus on.
Fixing this situation with the Heartbroken as quickly as possible.
She and the girls touched down on a small clearing of bushes around the Trainyards, far out of the city, and after a quick call for a ride, a small convoy of armoured cars squealed around the corner, opened its doors for them, and sped off to the nearest safehouse.
In the meantime, as the girls and her men situated the unconscious bodies in their seats in the back, she flickered her phone into her hand, and thought about dropping Evelynn, finally.
She hesitated, for almost a full minute, paranoia's jagged fangs brushing against the hairs on the back of her neck like a gentle, awaiting darkness.
Eventually, with a deep breath, she let Evelynn drop, revealing her real body.
She didn't actually know what it looked like, she realized.
She had to stop, and look down, for a moment.
It was…
No, not it. It wasn't a body. That- this was her.
Fuck, she had to stay out of Legends more.
Back to her first line of thought, her body proportions were different from what she remembered, back in her Dad's house after the asylum.
She was thicker, more solid, an invisible but felt thing, likely from all the excess lifeforce in her body.
Her hands were still small, long-fingered. The faint outline of muscles ran along her forearms, nothing too impressive. Hips, narrow.
She pulled down on the sun block, and flicked the plastic cover off, directing the mirror to her face.
Black circles hung under her eyes like emo-style make up, intense and deep. Her eyes were especially dull.
She blinked.
Those were not her eyes.
She froze, the hairs on her body spiking, standing upright like needles, fight or flight flaring in her mind.
She blinked twice, and her eyes were… unchanged. But now they were hers again.
She turned to ask someone, anyone in the truck, if they'd noticed anything, but judging from where their gazes were, they hadn't, so she closed her mouth and turned to look into the tiny mirror again.
Rubbing her eyes, she blinked rapidly and looked at the mirror, again and again.
With a thick scowl, she relaxed back into her seat, rubbing her temple.
Shit. It had been such a long time since she had a mental trip-up like that. She had to detox from her Legends sometime soon.
After another few seconds of lingering paranoia and passing thoughts, she called Lisa.
The phone clicked after the first ring.
"How'd it go?" Lisa rushed out, breathless.
"Complete success. We have two extra guests. Moving to secure them. I'll give a good report later. Now, Insight, if you could kindly explain why the fuck the National Guard is running laps in our city, that'd be great. I don't need the details, just give me a reason and a warning for what I should be concerned about." She rushed out, fingers tapping the gun strapped to her thigh, voice filled with irritation.
Lisa took a deep breath, let out a long ' uuuuh', mumbled something, then sighed.
"Okay, short and sweet. The PRT was stuck in infighting and indecision so the hero backups they've been considering have been stalling really hard until a day or two ago, so the National Guard got sent over after our raid to lock the city down and enforce the peace because we very openly just raided Government facilities and that's got the people scared and uncertain because despite us doing that, the PRT and police still can't touch us without any Heroes around. The National Guard is just here to justify their budget and try to bring some temporary peace until the PRT ships a squad of idiots over for reinforcement. The National Guard should be gone within a day or two, we're keeping low. We also got Greg, lost Cricket. Greg's being incredibly uncooperative and refuses to do anything or talk to anyone unless it's you, so when you're done, come on over, he's really freaked the fuck out and I can't push him too hard or else I risk pushing him away."
She sighed in relief, that at least one part of the operation, the main part, had gone well.
"Do we know where Cricket is being held?"
Lisa was silent for a moment, before she seemed to come to a fast realization.
"Oh no, no, Cricket's not arrested, she's dead . Armsmaster killed her." Lisa said, and her mind blanked.
Armsmaster killed her? He was the archetype of a hero. He used nonlethal, followed Rules of Engagement and Protocol to the letter, that guy killed her?
"How?" She asked, fists tight.
She wasn't going to mourn her, she didn't deserve that, but the fact that Armsmaster had killed one of her people, that grated to her on a level she couldn't quite articulate to Lisa if she were to ask.
"Alabaster and Cricket were told to stall Armsmaster while the rest of the team dealt with some of the fight-capable Wards and the PRT agents with the foam guns to clear the way for Greg. When Hookwolf ran back to grab them, he just found them both blown to pieces. Alabaster reformed, Cricket didn't. The lab was annihilated. Sam… none of it tracks." Lisa growled.
"It's not how that fucker works. My power's basically saying he booby trapped his entire laboratory to self-destruct, but that also doesn't make sense because what the hell does he have to hide that's worth ruining his main workstation over? And his trustworthiness? He obviously didn't pass that through the building code! Please ask HB if he mastered him, because we're wracking our heads to figure out what the hell's up with him and my power's giving me some wild conspiracy theories that sound too dumb to be true. He's been acting weird since that night we got wiped by Lung and he got his legs torn off." Lisa grit out. "Twenty years of nigh perfect conduct then he starts doing all this shit? Makes no sense. Let me know what B says." Lisa rushed out, half-excited and half-frustrated.
Assuming 'B' and 'HB' was Heartbreaker, she nodded, frowning.
"What happened in the other 'timeline'?" She asked, as the cars manoeuvred through tight dark alleys with sharp turns. "Why are we here with Greg but down two capes?" She clarified.
Down one cape permanently, and one temporarily.
Lisa blew a sharp, frustrated breath, as the cars hurriedly took a tight turn, and braked, stopping before the safehouse.
"In the other timeline where the plan was to escape through the sea by jumping out from the half-finished wall, he used some giant cannon from another Tinker, probably Kid Win's, and annihilated one of the speedboats and almost everyone in it. Four capes gone. He was aiming for Greg, specifically. Killed him."
… What?
What?
What kind of fucking hero executed a teenager? What was going on with the bastard? Even Heartbreaker should know to have Mastered the man subtly. Was there someone else around to mess with him, or did the repeated failures just make him lose his damn mind?
"Yeah, exactly." Lisa said, regarding her silence. "See what I mean? He's a goddamn supervillain, in the PRT. From what I got from interrogating Greg and the other-me through Coil, Armsmaster's currently working on something very secret and incredibly, incredibly dangerous. He killed Greg and blew his lab to hide it in that 'timeline'. He probably has backups somewhere else to feel free enough to do so, but it doesn't matter, details." Lisa rushed out.
"In this 'timeline', he only got to blow his lab and Greg survived, but Greg won't talk to us, and the hard drive he took with him from the lab completely fries any computer we try to put it into and he refuses to help us until he talks to you, so get over here once you're done and help me figure out what the hell Armsmaster is building that's so important or else I'm gonna blow a fucking gasket because I can't figure it out and I hate it ." Lisa exclaimed in a single breath, on the edge of shouting, then breathed in, very slowly, to calm down.
"I have more good and bad news when you get back that I don't think you'd like to hear right now. Just hurry up a little with the Heartbroken. That aside, I'm really glad you're back home safe. I had fucking nightmares you'd get Mastered every night." Lisa chuckled softly. "Sorry for this being such a fuck-up, we did our best." Lisa finished, voice significantly more subdued.
Before she could process even a third of that, the call beeped to a close.
That… what fuck up? The only thing she apparently lost were two of her Empire capes and… callous as it was, and as much as it pissed her off, they weren't key to her plans, neither due to their powers or other traits.
She blinked at nothing for a few seconds, brows furrowed, processing all that as the cars opened their doors and her men hurriedly carried all the supplies and people inside, under the cover of dinky sheet metal and overgrowth.
She pushed those thoughts and emotions, positive and negative and in-between, all away, put the phone in her pocket, and jumped out of the car, hurriedly following her men inside.
That… that, all of that, it would have to wait. She had to ensure she fixed these people first.
One thing at a time, or else she'd get far too overwhelmed to do a single thing.
Heartbreaker, or Nikos, was hers, thirty minutes later in a dark room, sitting on a chair.
Her head had a steady tension headache running through it, but it was more than manageable.
She pulled her own chair off the corner, dragged it before him, spun it, and sat down with her elbows resting on the backside, flickering an antidote spurt into her hand before calmly injecting it into his arm.
She didn't have to wait too long for him to start stirring and shifting.
One eye fluttered open, closed, twitched, tried again, and slowly, with a miserable groan, the man let his head hang back, slowly stretching his limbs as best as he could through the restraints.
She stayed in Evelynn, for now.
A demon's physical form was too cosmetic to be vulnerable to Master influence that seemed to work through biology, so it was the best choice. As usual.
Thirty seconds of miserably shifting and cracking his joints, Nikos finally let his head come forward, one eye a slit and the other forcibly opening, both hazy and rough.
He grunted, a questioning tone to it, cracking his neck with a grimace.
"Where?" He rumbled.
"Brockton Bay. You're now my slave, and you will do exactly as I say. Understand?" She asked, coldly.
No matter how unnatural it was for a person to do, he simply nodded, as if that was self-evident.
"Hm. I lost in my own game. Embarrassing." He said, rife with disappointment, but otherwise accepting. "What do you need?" He asked mildly, like a friend willing to help without expecting a thank you.
She clenched her fist, unclenched it.
Something about this was… offensive. How he just shrugged and went along with it, how anticlimactic it was after all this pain and suffering and endless goddamn effort.
She did this to him, she was aware, but it still pissed her off.
The passing thought of beating him to an inch of his life came and went, and she took a deep breath, sighing it out.
"Information, first of all. Can you turn off your power's effect on someone?"
"Yes."
That… changed things.
"What are the after-effects? Can these people go back to a normal life?"
"Somewhat." He said, shifting in his chair, rubbing at his eyes as he held in a yawn, voice strained. "The brain is far more adaptive than the body. If I keep someone in a high emotional state for long periods of time, their neurotransmitters essentially fry themselves out. Or that's according to Amy. Her biokinetic power is strong enough to spot that."
... That explained a lot about the specifics of her power. She'd been running on speculation so far. Shit, she was right.
"Those people can't experience the same highs and lows as most people. Consider it a sociopathy of sorts."
That explained some of his children's behaviours. Piece of shit.
"Unless it's a punishment, I don't inflict feelings like that anymore. I keep things more… mildly pleasant. Focus more on numbing the negative emotions." Nikos explained, completely unemotional or apologetic about it.
Another deep breath.
"Nothing else? Their opinions go back to normal, their behaviours, their beliefs, their morals?"
Nikos raised a hand, slightly, in a lazy see-saw motion.
"Of sorts. They'll remember what it was like to be in an altered state. That's bound to affect people, maybe they'll even want to go back to it. Had it happen before. Had an experiment with… one of the kids' mothers-"
"You can't remember her name, can you?" She cut him off, coldly, and he stared at her, eyes dull and nothing but a faint light of contempt in them.
"Why would I?"
Don't kill him yet, don't kill him yet.
"So… they'll go back to normal if you switch off your power on them?" She asked, pressing.
He nodded.
"Mostly. They might ask to go back to being under me. They might be a little less emotional, less highs and lows. But fundamentally, they'll go back to the people they used to be if I switch the effect off."
"So it's just a switch? What do you need to turn it off?"
"To see them."
She squinted, slowly.
Even more slowly, she flickered the pistol from her real self's waist onto Evelynn's purple-tinted hand, and quickly checked to make sure she hadn't forgotten any bullets in it. Empty chamber, empty mag.
Then she extended it to him.
"Kill yourself. Now." She ordered, Evelynn's thorn-sharp but honey-sweet voice flatlining the room.
He took it, unhurried, flicked the safety off, pressed the barrel to the side of his head, and with a dead-eyed stare, pressed the trigger.
A tinny click sounded out through the room.
He shifted in realization after a frozen moment, seemingly sighing with relief.
She extended her hand, and he gave it back.
She flickered it back to her real self.
"What is the likelihood the Dallon girls and Battery will go back to normal after you turn off your power?"
He stared at a spot above her head, considering it for a second, before glancing back down at her.
"Battery should be the same after a few days of adjusting. The Dallons will have some issues."
Some issues.
Fucking…
Another slow, deep breath.
"Why did you make them have intercourse? What was the point?" She growled, unable to stop the venom in her chest from leaking out.
Her frowned, a slight, unbothered thing, like tasting tea that was a tad too bitter for his tastes.
"I asked them their deepest secrets and desires, then I simply gave them what they wanted." He said, simply, hands spread out with palms open upwards, like he hadn't done anything wrong.
Before she could demand an actual answer, he continued.
"Victoria hated criminals and crooks. She's sadistic and hateful. In her patrols, she regularly brutalises gangsters until Amy's presence is needed to stop them from dying or being so messed up that Victoria ruins her reputation. Her desire was to have a romantic partner who understood her and would not judge her for her actions against criminals and crooks, for her general temperament and refusal to forgive. Someone who'd simply support her even if it wasn't morally right. Someone who would accept her with her flaws, and not try to fix her, or challenge her views, like her boyfriend tended to try sometimes. She wanted an enabler. Amy… was a ball of secrets, but her biggest secret and desire, was Victoria, rolled into one." He said, shrugging. "It drew my interest, the thing they both wanted was right there, and it was… a new experience and sight. I was curious." He hummed, eyes lost.
The back of the chair splintered with a dry crack, her fingers shaking as she gouged through the wood.
"Shut the fuck up." She snarled, closing her eyes to try and wrap her head around this. "Amy Dallon wanted her sister? In that way?" She asked, opening her lids to glare at him.
He nodded.
"Victoria didn't."
He nodded again.
Shit. What the fuck was wrong with the Dallons family? One was a secret sadist with an anger problem and the other one was incestuous?
"So you nudged Victoria's head towards…" She trailed off, and he nodded again, without hesitation.
"Both, a little. Mostly Victoria. Amy just had to have her sense of moral alarm tamped down." He clarified.
"Did they hear each other? Do they know about why and what you did?" She pushed.
"Hm. We were in the back of the van at the time. Not much room to separate. They know everything."
That was… logically, the worst possible thing the bastard could have done.
Even if he turned his power off now, some of the problems would stick. Like Amy Dallon's attraction to Victoria, and Victoria knowing and likely blaming her for it. And the… experiences they had together.
And if Taylor and Heartbreaker took off the rose-tinted glasses off that affair…
Victoria would probably never want to see Amy's face again, ever. She might even blame Amy for the whole thing.
Which, to be frank, she couldn't do much about. It wasn't her place to do so. It shouldn't logically even concern her.
Except Amy Dallon's power was horrifically dangerous. She could make Nilbog's impact on the world look like a child throwing a tantrum.
It was also terrifically useful, and needed. There weren't many healers in the world. There were no healers in the world as famous and revered as Panacea. The girl probably had her own cult somewhere, she just didn't know it.
So, by proxy, it became her problem. She didn't want the poor girl to have a mental breakdown, make The Black Plague on steroids, and send a chunk of the entire world into a coffin.
Even if she hurt Enna, severely.
Again, nothing she could do about it though. She refused to mess with the girls' heads any more than they already had been.
"You're confident that if you release your power on the girls, no influence or side-effects would remain?" She asked, to clarify.
Without a single moment of hesitation or doubt in his eyes, Nikos nodded, seemingly bored.
"How long does it take for your effects to wear off completely?"
He seemed to think for a moment.
"Anywhere from a couple seconds to a minute. Never seen it take more."
"I see. Did you Master Armsmaster? Nudge him, mess with him in any way? Anyone in the Bay, in general, who you didn't take?"
"No." Heartbreaker simply said.
That answered that. She didn't like the answer, though.
She whipped a feeler around his chair, tips whistling through his restraints, and after a tense jerk of surprise, he relaxed, giving her a puzzled look.
"Come fix the latest bits of your mess." She said, and got up, opening the door and waltzing out.
Her men looked at Evelynn's curvy form for reasons more simple than curiosity, and eyed Heartbreaker with tense knuckles, fingers on the triggers of their guns, but spoke not a single word as she guided Nikos past the supply room, and into the barrack room, where they'd put everyone.
She walked in, and he followed, still stretching about and shifting uncomfortably as he eyed their unconscious forms in their cots.
"Turn your power off."
His eyes glanced from one to the next, so on and so forth. A mere three seconds later, they moved to her.
"Done."
"Good. Now, go into the other room we passed, and grab a notebook. Write down everyone you remember Mastering. Sleeper agents, plants, sex slaves, everyone. Write everyone you have dealings with, everyone who's helped you, et cetera. We're giving that info to Dragon, we want as many of your pawns captured and in containment as possible. Stay here, keep writing until you can't remember a thing. Then tell one of the guys here you need to contact 'Sam'. Do not Master anyone who isn't attacking you, do not go outside, do not even breathe the wrong way until I come back to pick you up."
"Alright." He said mildly, and turned to leave.
She closed the door behind him, and regarded the girls in front of her.
Just to be safe, she went to the Dallon girls, peeled their lids up, and pushed a blank nothingness into their minds, to give her a few hours without worrying they'd wake up, panic, see Nikos next door and kill him on sight.
Then she went to Battery, took the glass of water on her nightstand, put it to her lips, gently pulled her head up off the pillow, and pulled her jaw down, using a bend of her feeler to massage her throat and induce a swallowing reaction as the water trickled in.
It wasn't much after two entire days of no water, the woman and the girls were very dehydrated, but they hadn't exactly brought camping supplies on their trip. It took up too much space.
It was enough to hopefully prevent severe dehydration at least.
Once the last drops vanished, she made sure the woman swallowed properly and didn't choke, put the glass on the nightstand, and flickered the phone into her hand.
Two minutes later, she was sitting in the back seat of a truck, holding the woman's limp body steady on the next seat over, using Jarvan's towering form, weapons thrown in the back.
Ten minutes later, the car slowly came to a stop in an unassuming parking lot in the Trainyards, not a single foot of concrete unbroken, uncracked, or even, roots deforming the ancient asphalt like veins as reeds grew from every crack like dry blood from a wound.
It wasn't all that ugly with the bright sunny day overhead, at least.
She hopped out, walked around the truck, opened the back door, and carefully lifted Samantha out in a princess carry, letting one of her men close the doors.
She simply stood in place, waiting for Assault to arrive, Florence waiting in the car, still unconscious.
When Assault came, not even a minute later, it was not with a car, but with a red blur that busted through one of the wire fences to the side like a rocket, stumbling through for a moment, then slowing down to stare at her wide eyed, shoulders sagging with relief she could only imagine.
"Assault!" She called, projecting her voice, turning to him.
He blurred again, and in an instant, he was in front of her, slowing rapidly to shove his arms under hers.
"I- wha- why is she unconscious?" Assault rushed out, wide-eyed and panting, eyes not leaving his wife for a second as she offloaded her to him, and allowed him to step back, the hero crouching down to lay his partner on the asphalt, checking her over with a unique sort of relieved panic.
"We had to drug them all for the trip back, and to sort things properly. She'll wake up by tomorrow evening, at the latest. Just try to keep her hydrated and comfortable." She rumbled, crossing her arms, watching the man.
Unable to help the slight, satisfied smile on her face.
Assault gazed up at her from where he stood on his knees.
"Is she still… did Heartbreaker…?" He panted out, eyes almost pleading.
She'd never seen the man so emotional.
"He didn't touch her. Physically. Mentally… he did," She started, and his face fell,, "-but we forced him to undo it. He can just switch it off. We made him turn it off. We're confident. She'll be fine, Assault." She said, pushing Jarvan's urge to gloat away in favour of a calm, deep, reassuring timbre.
He deflated like a balloon with a wheezing sigh, pulling Battery- or Samantha, without the mask-, to his chest, and burying his face in her shoulder.
Then he started to cry with relief, a silent thing only betrayed by his shaking shoulders, the desperate way he clutched at Samantha's shirt as he held her, and she felt distinctly uncomfortable, like she was intruding in a private moment.
She averted her eyes, turning away to stare up at the sun, hands behind her back.
It was still a tragedy that this happened, but this was the best outcome she could have asked for.
And she felt… that simple joy of doing something good. Purely good. That satisfaction of the soul, deeper than flesh and warmer than any ray of light.
Another demon, leashed at her feet, unable to hurt an innocent person again.
It was all she started this for. Another one down, a thousand to go.
A genuine smile crossed her face.
Spotting movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned, and saw Assault hurriedly wipe at his eyes, gently lay Samantha down, then get up and walk to her.
She turned to him, puzzled, and then-
He hugged her, leaving her blinking at the air over his shoulder in befuddlement as she stumbled a step.
"Just- Ethan. My name is Ethan. I thought- I thought you were fucking with me. Just leading- leading me on like the PRT, saying bullshit to keep me around for… some reason. Thank you, man. You can't understand how much I… thank you." Assault- or Ethan, croaked out, and hit her back with his fist, a metallic thud filling the silence.
Then he pulled back, taking a deep breath, and running a hand through his unkempt mane of brown hair, and they stared at each other for a moment, her, quietly surprised, and him, thoughtful and grinning.
"You weren't even expecting a 'thank you', were you?" Assault asked quietly, voice full of a strange understanding and realization.
In a way, she felt a sense of kinship with him, in that moment. She'd lost people the same way he almost did. She was treading past the law to do the right thing, just as he once had, and was doing again.
And he probably felt the same. She could see it in his eyes, bereft of even the slightest fear or wariness.
"Not really, no." She rumbled, collecting herself. "If you need a place to stay and get re-established, some money to move somewhere else, just tell us. I'd give you a recruitment pitch, but it would ruin the moment even more. Just ring up Insight if you want to make this more permanent in the future. There's something else though, it's important." She said, and gave him a severe look.
Assault immediately sobered, and watched her intently, still smiling, but now a tad skeptical.
"This might be a little… out of nowhere, and very sudden. But during our raid on his compound, we found some of his children. Heartbreaker's. We took two of them. One was seemingly abused and had some… mental health problems, and the other was a traitor that the family seemed to hate. The girl with mental health issues is called Florence. Samantha traveled with her for about a week and something. She seemed to get along with the girl in particular when nobody else would even get close to her. To be frank, we took her because her power seemed incredibly powerful, and any parenting situation would be better than being in a literal cell. It was suggested to give her to you to raise, since she seemed to tolerate Battery so much more than anyone else."
Assault stared at her for a long moment, in speechless, processing shock. Still smiling and happy, but now very befuddled.
"Wait, wait. You want us to raise one of Heartbreaker's kids? How old?" Assault asked, not offended, just genuinely confused, hands gesticulating.
She tilted her head.
"She's… eight, I believe? And no. Hm, I'm not explaining this well. Apologies, things are… hectic." She sighed, and rubbed at her temple. "I'm trying to say that if you decide to join us, we'd like you to raise her if you and Samantha both agree. Our main candidate at the moment for raising the girl is a bunch of Mastered nazis, or Insight whose power will let her handle her, but who is also only sixteen years old at the moment and will probably wring my neck if I sick a manic girl on her to raise. The next option is a bunch of militant mercenaries. We hadn't exactly planned on raising kids in Nexus, but things happen I guess."
Assault turned to look at his wife again, peacefully sleeping next to his feet.
"I… okay. I mean, I don't know anything yet. We'll see if we join, and we'll need to see even further if we're ready for something like that. Is that all?" Assault asked, glancing at her.
Well, he took that well.
"Yes. Not to press you, but do let us know relatively soon what direction you'll go. It's not great to switch a kid's environment over and over, so we can't start raising her until we know for sure who's going to be caring for her. Let us know relatively soon, things are moving fast. That's all."
Assault nodded with a grin.
"Sure thing, Executioner. Man, that's a mouthful. Thank you, again." Assault said, and bent down to cradle his wife, getting up to give her a glance full of sincerity. "No promises, but we'll try to figure something out pretty quick." He said, and turned, bending down as if to sprint.
"Jarvan." She said, and he paused, giving her a surprised glance.
It wasn't the truth. It couldn't be. Nobody but Lisa and Cauldron knew her real name, still, and hopefully nobody else ever would.
But it was a gesture of repayment.
"My name is Jarvan. Less of a mouthful." She clarified, in Jarvan's signature proud baritone.
Ethan grinned.
"Right-on, Jay. See you around." He said, in a bright, carefree way he hadn't shown any of them so far, and then, sprinted off, a blur.
She smiled for a few more seconds as he vanished, and then she took a deep breath, and went back to the car to take Florence back to the safehouse.
She… didn't know how giving the Dallons back would go, but she doubted it would be nearly as simple or easy. For more reasons than one.
She would handle the Dallons differently.
For starters, Nikos got locked into the supply room to ensure they wouldn't see him and freak out.
Secondly, she had to talk to Amy first. Awake, aware, and without Mastering anyone.
Mostly because Amy was a danger to the city, if not the world, if she had a mental breakdown and said ' fuck it'.
Considering that her now un- Mastered sister knew about her deepest secrets, and would probably blame her about the whole… incest situation even arising during their captivity… piling on other factors on top of that, and whatever the hell went on behind the Dallon family's doors… there was a high likelihood of that.
She didn't need Amy, just like she didn't need Canary, but the city needed them, both now and in the future.
Hell, Amy's power was so broken that the world needed her, if not sane and stable, then at least not in the Birdcage or a coffin because she made a plague during a meltdown episode.
And when dealing with capes, you could never discount mental health. How the PRT seemed to ignore that was beyond her.
So she set up the room she talked to Heartbreaker in, and directed the men to set up a table, something to eat and drink, et cetera, as many things she could fit to make the place more comfortable, took the girl in, put her in the opposite side of the table on a cushy chair, peeled her eyelids up, and reached into her mind, grasping the mental fog she had pushed forward to replace thoughts, and ripping it away as she retreated from the healer's mind.
Then she picked Jarvan, and sat on the other side of the table, a glass of water in her hand, and waited.
Five seconds passed before Amy's eyelids, barely open at all, slowly opened, then snapped open all at once, her head jerking up, hands jerking to the table.
Then, thankfully, she froze, and stared at her chosen form.
"Where am I?" Amy demanded, more scared than snarling, like before. "Where's my si…" Amy trailed off, and the realization slowly seemed to dawn on her, that her thoughts and her mind weren't the same as before.
Taylor gave her the courtesy of a bland stare and silence, to let the girl's thoughts settle for a moment before bombarding her with discussion and information.
The amount of emotions that flashed through her face were disturbing.
Dread, horror, joy, despair, fury, relief, and a dozen more she couldn't get a glimpse of before they passed.
Amy's expression settled on an empty gaze of horror. Her breath hitched, and tears rushed to her eyes.
She… hadn't been expecting such a terrible reaction to mental freedom, honestly, but she hadn't exactly asked too many details from Heartbreaker about what he'd done to or with them, so maybe she was missing a lot here.
Thinking this might be the best time to intervene, she opened her mouth.
Amy's gaze lingered on the serrated bread knife on the table for a moment too long before her hand lashed out to grab it, and jerked it point-first towards her own throat, without a moment of warning or hesitation.
Taylor instantly Flashed over the table, half-crouched with Jarvan's knees mid-motion, and snapped her meaty paw of a hand around Amy's wrist, halting it in place.
A hand flew towards her face, the only exposed skin on her, and she jerked back, sending the table toppling backwards with a cacophonous crash and clatter, her left hand jerking forward to grab Amy's other wrist, pulling her arms apart to stare incredulously at the healer.
Amy just gasped air in and out, eyes overflowing with tears, running down her cheeks, staring at Taylor's stomach with dazed horror.
Taylor herself was flabbergasted with this situation because she hadn't expected Amy to try and kill herself ten seconds into mental freedom, when the only thing that happened was her getting what she wanted, as far as Taylor knew.
Of course there was more nuance to who exactly she got and how, but what the hell was this reaction?
The door opened, not alarmed, but curiously wary and a man leaned in with a pistol in his hand.
"Get out, now. I've got this. Close the door." She said, calmly, and the man wordlessly did as asked.
Amy's sob made her turn back forward, to where Amy was trying to curl up into a gasping, sobbing ball.
Something in her chest clenched, with both pain and fury, and she thumbed the knife out of Amy's hand with a dull clatter as she crouched down on her knees, at the healer's height.
"Oi, kid. What's wrong?" She asked, Jarvan's thick timbre ringing with softness. "You're free. So is Victoria."
Amy gasped in something, almost a syllable, before she broke down into more sobbing.
"I'm going to let go. Don't try to kill me again. Or yourself." She said, and Amy hurriedly nodded in between a hiccup and a whimper.
She let go, and all Amy did was wrap her arms around her own head, and keep sobbing, hiding in her knees like a little child.
Well… shit.
This was… very much not how she envisioned this going. At all.
Carefully, she put a hand on Amy's shoulder.
When it wasn't shrugged off, she allowed herself to gently squeeze.
God she fucking hated Heartbreaker.
Amy was just sixteen. She was a fucking kid. She shouldn't ever have to go through shit like this.
Another dozen seconds of silent weeping followed, before Amy managed to gasp out something legible.
"I- I raped her- I-" Amy forced out, then burst back into incoherent hiccups and half-wailing sobs.
She squeezed her shoulder.
"You didn't. It's not fair to claim responsibility for the crimes of someone else. They won't get what they deserve, that way. Heartbreaker messed with your head. Before this, had you ever done anything bad to Victoria? Anything like that? " She asked, voice firm, and Amy whimpered as she shook her head in a negative.
"Then we know that when you're in control, your actions speak for you. He nudged your minds to do it."
Amy shook her head through a shaky gasp of air.
"I- I'm why he- he th-thought- thought of- it-" Amy stuttered out, then broke again with a heart wrenching whimper, like a hurt dog's whine mixing with human speech. "I changed her- just kill me. "
"Hey." She said, voice thick, trying to ground the girl. "Don't talk like that. Don't think like that. You're only sixteen. You have half a dozen decades or more ahead of you. Things pass. Relationships break and new ones form. People grow and change."
Amy sniffled, and rubbed at her eyes.
"I- I don't. F-fuck off. Just-" hiccup, "just give the knife and fu-fuck off." Amy croaked out, hands over her eyes.
" There we go, that's more like the girl that turned my colleague's arm into a pretzel." She mused, trying to lighten the air. "Look, I don't know what's going on in your life, but it's not the end of the world. Life goes on, no matter what. Your family, Victoria? They'll probably forgive you one day. These things take time. Nothing's over until you're too dead to realise it's over."
Amy was silent, visibly fighting to calm her quivers and shakes.
"T-talking from ex- experience?" Amy croaked, then sniffled and cleared her throat.
"Yes, actually." She said, then froze. "Wait, back up kid. You changed Victoria during your captivity? What did you do?"
Amy curled up with a miserable groan, hands fisted in her hair, and sniffled.
"S-sex stuff." Amy whimpered.
Oh. Not brain or nervous system stuff, then? That wasn't so bad.
She would have asked, but Amy seemed messed up enough already without her prodding.
"That's not so bad. She'll be fine."
"And m-me? M-my life is over." Amy gasped into her knees. "I-I'm cryin- crying to a f-fucking villain. It's over. It's all fuhf- fucked." Amy croaked.
"I thought the same, many times. It was very rarely true." She reasoned, not taking her hand off Amy's shoulder.
Amy snorted, almost a laugh if it wasn't so wet and miserable.
"M' gonna get sent to the f-fucking Birdcage, you g-gold shit. M-my sister will hate me. M-my gfa- my family won't ever l-look at me again. They won't cov- cover for me and m-my power. T-They'll tell the PRT and i'll get will f-fucking assassinated. A mast- mastered biokinetic? Of Heartbreaker? I'm- it's done. I go outside, I die." Amy babbled, then almost convulsed, as if in physical pain. "Victoria- oh god, I ruined every-rything-" Amy choked, then devolved back into unintelligible sobbing.
She pursed her lips as she sighed.
Heartbreaker would pay, soon.
"Okay… just don't kill me for this." She grumbled, then switched to Evelynn, immediately flicking to Jarvan's visual form, for extra protection.
Then she pulled Amy off the chair, and crushed her into a hug before she could protest.
Amy jerked and tried to pull away, even trying to squirm away, then bucked up, so that her hair would touch her chin stubble, likely to knock her out.
Nothing happened, and Amy gave up, hesitantly just going limp as a wet towel, sobbing.
Taylor imagined very, very violent things happening to Heartbreaker.
Amy sniffled across the table, rubbing her eyes on her sleeves.
The table was flanked by all types of foods, broken glass and fluids on the floor, and the girl across it refused to look at her, understandably.
"Do you feel ready to talk a little?" She asked.
Amy groaned.
"My snot's on your chestplate. I'm too humiliated to give a shit. Just kill me or ransom me, I don't care anymore." Amy forced out, dropping on the table to hide her face in her arms.
"We all have moments of weakness, don't be too ashamed of it. It'll stay between us. That aside, we've saved you and your sister's lives twice now, we have absolutely zero reason to ransom you. Also we don't need the money, no offence."
"What do you mean twice?" Amy asked, muffled through her arms.
"Do you remember a girl with glowing cards, during the bank heist? Black-haired, tattoos, wouldn't shut up?" She asked, mildly.
"She was yours?" Amy asked, voice now… numb and weak, more than anything, barely audible.
It seemed she was entering the depression phase of grief.
"Yes. " She replied, just to keep the conversation going.
"'Kay..at ..ow?" Amy breathed out.
"Huh?"
"What now?" Amy repeated, marginally louder.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, originally. The idea was to let you wake up here to give you a… hm, not a pitch, exactly. We just wanted to let you know our doors are open if you want to join. We pay well, we protect our own pretty well from whoever it might be, and as you might have pieced together so far, we're not exactly villains so much as… an extremist rogue organization, if that sounds better. However, since we know about your power's capabilities, we felt the need to extend a hand of help, even if you don't join."
Amy shifted, but still didn't take her head out of her arms.
"What?" Amy asked, not sounding the least bit interested.
"To put it simply, we have resources you could use. We will have laboratories for you to experiment in, so long as you follow some basic safety procedures, we have therapists and getting more, if you feel like your mental health is deteriorating, we're practically untouchable by the PRT and the law… there's few things we can't provide you. So… if you end up going home, and things are as bad as you say, we can't replace your family, but you can come with us. You don't need to join, sign a dotted line and swear an oath or anything. Nexus just wants to keep you mentally healthy enough to not turn our turf into Ellisburg. If you want to join us, help us, keep healing, whatever, that'd be great, but it's up to you."
"Oh." Amy breathed out.
… Well, that'd do, she supposed.
"Do you need some time alone? We can't let you leave this room for security concerns though."
Amy nodded.
"Yeah. Just… give me a few hours. I'll knock on the door when I can talk." Amy quietly said. "You're not villains, right?"
"No. We're about as morally grey as the PRT is, we just don't feel the need to skirt around the laws, and just break them unapologetically. Most laws are stupid anyway." She shrugged, nonchalant.
Amy grunted.
"'Kay. Will you tell me a name or do I just call you goldie?" Amy asked quietly, finally tilting her head up to peek up at her over her forearms with dead, bloodshot eyes.
She snorted.
There was something deeply amusing about being called 'goldie' when the rest of the cape world called her something as grim as Executioner and would shit their pants if they had to fight her.
"Goldie's fine, kid. You'll learn more about me when you go home anyway."
Amy's eyes glazed over, and she curled back up like an armadillo.
Right, sore subject.
Taylor left to check on Heartbreaker next door, to check out how vast his network was, and most importantly…
Learn exactly what Cherie's and Florence's powers were, because they'd wake up pretty soon.
It was so much harder to work with people when she couldn't Master them and be done with it.
Amy knocked on the wooden door only an hour later, and so, Taylor left Nikos to his chore, and locked his door again.
Florence's power, as he described it, was utterly priceless. It opened the door to so many possibilities. Cherie's was very powerful too. She'd accidentally chosen the best of the bunch, apparently.
Pushing those thoughts away, she opened the door a bit, and peeked in.
The healer was standing a few feet away, arms crossed tightly, eyes on the ground.
She slipped in, closed the door, and put her hands behind her back.
"Feeling better?" She ventured.
"Can I join you?" Amy said, and Taylor had to pause.
"You… right now?" She asked, mildly incredulous.
"Yes." Amy said, voice steady, if still scratchy.
"Don't you think you're rushing this, a little? Was one hour enough to really think about your options? We want you, but there's no point in having you with us if you regret it a week later."
Amy's entire stance tightened, but no reply came.
She sighed.
"Look, kid-"
"There's nowhere else for me to go." Amy said quietly, coldly.
She regarded the girl for a moment.
Something about all this didn't add up.
"You have a family to go to. What exactly do you think they'll do if we return you to them, even when they learn of what happened with Victoria? They're your parents, they love you, they won't just-"
"They don't." Amy said, so sure of it that Taylor had to pause and think of why she was so certain.
With that little detail, it did all add up.
"You don't know shit. We're good at hiding stuff, I guess. My adoptive mother rightfully hates me, my adoptive father won't mind too much if I disappear because he physically can't give a shit, and my sister will never want to see me again. I don't have a family left, goldie." Amy quietly noted. "The PRT will either throw me in the Birdcage or a literal hole somewhere a little more private, where I can die without anyone noticing. I'll just be another Heartbroken victim, written off. The other groups in the city are fucking scum, I refuse to help them or join them. Maybe except Parian, she's cool, but she's a rogue and if I try to go rogue I'll be under someone's boot within a week. Healing powers are too valuable. It's just not safe. And even if you convince people that you can fix Heartbroken somehow, they won't trust you enough to take your word for it."
She squinted, reading between the lines.
"You're scared of facing them, aren't you? Your family, Victoria..." She trailed off.
Amy physically recoiled as if struck, then gave her a considering, long look.
"Yeah." Amy said, then lowered her eyes again. "I can't do it. And I- like I said, I don't have any other options, unless the PRT magically decides to let the Heartbroken be out and about, which they won't. Especially considering my power."
"What makes you think they know your power?" She asked, curious.
Amy moved a shaking hand through her hair.
"Because it doesn't matter if they know, Carol- my mother will fucking tell them." Amy growled, glaring up at her weakly. "She won't hesitate a millisecond, because she already doesn't trust me, and she knows what I can do. You'll throw me on her doorstep and ten minutes later I'll be in a PRT cell with a spreadsheet of what I can do, wrapped up like a gift in chains because you got me back from Heartbreaker. And why are you trying to dissuade me from joining you anyway, do you have any idea how fucking strong my power is?" Amy gesticulated, her entire demeanour riding the line between desperate, depressed, and angry.
She frowned.
"We do know, very well. I'm just trying to make sure you actually want this. You don't even want to try? To go home and see what happens?"
Amy hesitated, deflating, closing her eyes for a moment before wiping them.
"No. That's… done. It's over. Just give me a contract or some shit and let's get to negotiating."
This was the literal last thing she had expected to happen. She just expected to give the girl a phone number to contact them if she needed something to not break, a place to run to or a therapist or something, but she hadn't expected more than that.
She kept silent, staring at Amy until the girl eventually relaxed enough to open her eyes and look at her again.
"Running away from your problems rarely works." Taylor started, to Amy's replying scoff, "Also, we can't give back Victoria then just not mention you. We'll need to show you joined us, and in some way that makes it obvious we didn't just force you or Master you into it. What this means is that regardless of how it goes down, you'll have to face your family again. I would also suggest letting Victoria know that you're sorry. There's no need to burn your bridges further. Additionally, you don't know much about us. Get a briefing first before you throw yourself on our side. As long as you keep quiet, I can just tell you some of the many reasons you might not want to join us."
Amy breathed in, and out, slowly, before walking over to sit on the chair, and hunching over on the table.
"Okay. Tell me."
Taylor dodged the food on the floor, nudging pieces aside with her greaves as she sat on the opposite chair.
"For starters, and I say this with the utmost secrecy, meaning we will have to kill anyone who tries to leak this, we Master villains onto our side. We have already taken over the ABB and the Empire. Only the Merchants are left. They're basically all our underlings at the moment. A lot of things happened while you two were gone. To put it simply, we Master unredeemable villains, try to help or ignore heroes, and kill monsters like Heartbreaker, after we get what we need out of them."
Amy was silent, staring at her.
"... Is there supposed to be a negative in there, if I gloss over the statement of you somehow taking over the Bay in like, three weeks?" Amy asked, not snarking, genuinely confused.
Her brows raised.
"You mean you're completely fine working with Mastered villains? No ethical compunctions, no trauma that'll make it hard for you?" She asked, and Amy's expression tightened infinitesimally, before she shook her head.
"No."
Oh. That was… a little alarming, but alright.
"Hm. Well, you'll have to work with Mastered villains on the regular. Aside from that, we're not motivated by money or hedonism. We have goals to fulfil, and we expect to make many, many enemies, of all types and strengths. Being with us is dangerous and you won't have a private yacht out of it either when all's said and done. The stakes are as high as they can be, for our group at least."
Amy slowly nodded.
"Okay. Still sounds better than you think." Amy noted emotionlessly, eyes staring down at the wood grain of the table, a nail scraping at the fibres without purpose.
"If you see it that way, I guess. You'll learn more about me and Nexus from the news once we're done here, but since all that doesn't deter you, I guess you're free to join." She shrugged.
Shit, she was so unprepared for this.
Amy gulped, and nodded.
"Can I get some pen and paper? I want to leave a message for Vicky. Victoria." Amy hurriedly corrected.
She flickered to Evelynn, already shapeshifted into Jarvan's form, and grasped the mind of one of her soldiers outside.
Bring us a pen and paper.
A muffled, startled curse came out through the door, before rapid shuffling followed, and twenty seconds later, the soldier came in, dropped the items on the table, and rushed back out.
Amy gingerly took them.
"Want me to leave again?" She asked.
Amy shrugged, uncaringly, and stared at the paper, putting her thoughts together.
She left, to go charm Heartbreaker's victims again, just to buy herself more time to settle all this.
Ten minutes later, she returned, and Amy was slowly, hesitatingly scratching along the paper.
It was only a few sentences long before she stopped entirely, and took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping at her eyes.
Amy sniffled, then leaned back to look at her.
"Done. Give me a contract or something."
She leaned her head back, thinking.
"Negotiations are better. I shoot an offer, you shoot back another offer. Think of it like a game. More fun that way. So, I start." She said, and settled her hands on the table, giving Amy a blank look. "Half a million a year, with your own laboratory. We'll need you to make things for us, most likely, as well as help with healing our men. We might bring some people with special biology and their own biotinkering projects to help with. Housing will be provided, as well as private security that will also act as your helpers. Transport, self-protection, some tinkertech for personal protection, and if you stick around and are loyal enough, we'll give you a minor Brute package. We have a Trump that can do things like that. If you're comfortable with it, we'd like you to keep healing in the hospitals sometimes, though we'd give you a large security detail to make sure nobody tries to snatch you. We'll see if the hospitals accept it."
Amy scratched at the table with her nail, silent.
Ten, twenty, then at thirty seconds, she sighed.
"Counter-offer. You pay for all the materials and labs and stuff, on top of my pay. I refuse to make weapons of mass destruction, diseases, deadly, uncontrollable gases, self-replicating anything, and nerve agents. I also don't want to be kept in the dark. I'm sick of it. So… information. And freedom. I don't want my security detail to be my wardens. They listen to me." Amy said, slowly becoming more and more emotionless as she kept thinking.
"Alright. Deal?" She asked, extending a meaty paw across the table.
Amy eyed it, eyes dead as glass.
"Protect my family too, if possible. Don't stalk them or anything, just… if shit hits the fan, I want at least a couple of your guys to try and help them. Mostly Victoria." Amy said, slowly, glancing up at her, almost uncertainly.
She frowned, lightly.
"Bit of a broad term there, but alright."
Amy gulped, closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, and reached forward, clasping her gauntlet in a handshake.
She pulled back and let go, and Amy did the same, her hands limp on the table, eyes downcast.
"Now what?" Amy asked.
Taylor took a deep breath, and sighed it out.
This day was such a pain, and she hadn't even figured out what happened while she was gone. Lisa seemed to have more to say.
It could wait, assumedly, while this… couldn't, not really.
"Now… Do you remember any phone numbers of your family? We don't really have a plan other than calling them to meet us somewhere to pick up you and Victoria."
"They're not picking me up." Amy said.
She nodded.
"Yes, but you'll need to be there. They won't believe us that you joined if you're not there to say it. Even then, they might not, but it's the best we can do, realistically. Sorry if this is… a little too soon, but we can't keep Victoria knocked out forever, and if she reacts how you did when you woke up, with her set of Brute powers, we're going to have a big problem on our hands."
Amy's expression twisted in pain, but she nodded.
"Yeah. Okay, just give me a phone. What's your actual name? You're not even wearing a mask, give me a cape name at least." Amy mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeves again, before blinking rapidly at the table.
"Jarvan. PRT designated me with 'Executioner' though. Bit of a mouthful."
"Hm."
She flickered her button phone into her hand again, and held it in front of her.
"Listening."
Amy sighed, and began to rattle off a number by memory, the very air around her filled with dread, discomfort, and a vulnerable insecurity, like she was walking on thin glass over a black pit.
"Calling." She said, and Amy didn't reply, so she pressed the number.
Five rings later, the phone clicked.
"Who is this? I'm at the PRT HQ, be quick." A strict female voice replied, incredibly irritated, almost snapping at her.
Likely Carol Dallon.
"Ah, perfect. Executioner here. Am I talking to Carol Dallon?" She asked, voice arrogant and booming, and Amy grimaced across the table, tense and tight.
"...Yes. What do you want? How did you get this number?" Carol Dallon tightly asked, hurriedly.
"Amy gave it to me. We got your daughters back from Heartbreaker. This isn't a hostage situation or anything, just come pick up Victoria. Come to the Trainyards, at the old empty parking lots for the employees on the outer side. We'll be in a convoy. Come with a car, preferably, Victoria will be unconscious for another couple hours."
No reply.
"I'm- what? Why is she unconscious? Is she safe? What did you do to her?" Carol rushed out, like a worried mother.
Her brows furrowed.
"Shouldn't you be asking about Amy too?" She pointed out.
"Just tell me. What do you want in exchange for them?" Carol Dallon replied, and she blinked in astonishment.
"Are you deaf, woman?" She bit back, fully allowing Jarvan's arrogance to saturate her voice. "This is not a hostage situation. Just come pick up your kid before she wakes up and wrecks our cars. We don't want anything from you."
Carol was silent for a moment.
"Alright. We'll be there in twenty. This better not be an ambush. We'll bring pay." Carol Dallon replied, and Taylor was just… baffled.
"What pay? For what?" She asked, confused, and the call clicked to an end.
She lowered the phone in disbelief.
Carol didn't even ask about Amy. What the fuck? Did she even listen to her? Why would she bring pay?
"Is your mother insane?" She asked, entirely serious, baffled.
Amy sighed.
"She won't listen to you if she thinks you're untrustworthy, she'll just do what she thinks is best and ignore what you're actually saying. Don't take the money, and she'll take it back. Do we just… go now?" Amy asked, uncomfortable and exhausted.
She flickered her phone back to her real body, and got up.
"Yes. Come."
She walked to the door, and opened it, immediately walking across the hall to open the door to the cots, and bending down to shove her arms under Victoria, picking her up with ease and turning to find Amy staring at her sister from the door, jaw trembling.
Amy turned away, and stepped aside to make room, and she decided not to push or inquire, simply walking out.
"Four of you, come. Same spot as before. If a fight breaks out, take the girl behind me and drive off." She ordered, and the men complied immediately, rushing to action, opening the door for her to go outside, then the car door across from the door as they all quickly shuffled into the giant SUV.
Amy sat on the passenger seat, resolutely refusing to look at her sister, and Taylor sat behind her next to Victoria, trying to not break the window with the spikes on her armour, barely fitting in the car itself.
The drive was silent.
As the Trainyards came into view Amy sighed.
"Uh, Goldie?" Amy asked.
"Jarvan."
"Yeah, sure. Can you… put this in her pocket, or something?" Amy asked, not looking at her as she extended a piece of paper over her seat's shoulder.
She wordlessly took it, shoved it into Victoria's front jean pocket, and said nothing further.
Five minutes later, the car emerged from between two fences overrun with shrubbery, and the parking lot came into view.
The entirety of New Wave was either on it, or flying above it. In a combat formation. In full costumes. Even Shielder, his shoulder still in bandages and a cast.
God, what was wrong with these goddamn idiots?
She didn't bother being alarmed. There was no way they were suicidal enough to attack her, nevermind the cars housing two of their kids, as far as they were aware.
The car calmly came to a stop, and the fliers quickly fell to the ground, only Shielder and Lazerdream staying above. Lady Photon approached at a brisk walk.
She opened the door, and stepped out of the car.
Everyone stopped moving at once.
She didn't pay them any mind, bending back in to shove her arms under Victoria's knees and back, then she pulled out with the girl dangling off of her, turned to New Wave, and calmly walked forward.
She paused a few steps on, and looked into the car's window, where Amy was, staring at her extended family with an unreadable, almost empty expression.
They didn't seem to have noticed her yet, so she let it be for now, and kept walking forward, ignoring the air of confusion that seemed to cover the air around them like an aura.
"Executioner. Can we take them?" Lady Photon called from thirty feet away, tense.
"If you're willing to walk a couple feet, yes." She replied, voice thick with sarcasm.
Brandish shoved her way past Lady Photon, and stomped forward, the rest of the family hesitantly following, eyeing her like a rabid shark.
The sheer hatred exuding from Brandish was impressive, and so were all the burn wounds across her face and all visible skin, barely healed enough to not bleed with movement, she'd wager.
Despite the scars from their previous meeting, Carol Dallon didn't seem scared enough to let it stop her, stomping forward and wordlessly shoving her arms under Victoria, lifting her, meeting Taylor's eyes with a challenging glare, and quickly backing away, retreating into the rest of the team's formation as they half-surrounded Taylor.
She very obviously rolled her eyes.
"Right. Any questions?" She asked, eyeing them from Flashbang to her right, around to the women in the middle, then to Manpower on her left.
"Where's Amy? You said you got the number from her." Flashbang, surprisingly, piped up, voice gruff.
She glanced back, and Amy hadn't moved.
This was either going to go well or horribly.
She took a deep breath, and turned her head towards the car.
"Oi, kid! Come out before this gets awkward in a dangerous way!" She shouted, waving a hand up.
Amy glared at her for a moment, before ducking down, and hesitatingly opening the door, coming out, and closing it with the same hesitating air.
Manpower stepped forward quickly, eyes on Amy.
She flickered her lance into her hand, and extended it between the general direction of his path, and Amy.
Everyone went still, the air becoming oppressive.
"Try not to grab her without her consent. She's with us now." She said, simply, and let her lance scrape back to its shorter form, bringing it to a rest at her side.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brandish asked, almost growling from her flame-scorched vocal cords.
She turned to Amy, who seemed like a deer in the headlights.
"Wanna explain for me? Not like they'll listen to me about it." She suggested, and Amy glanced at her, then her family.
Taking a deep breath, Amy stepped forward, towards her, fists clenched and eyes lowering to the ground.
"What- what he said. I'm… staying with them."
"What?!" Shielder barked, offended.
"Are they forcing you?" Manpower rushed out, brows furrowed and fists clenched.
"Stop talking nonsense and get over here." Brandish snapped.
Amy's brow twitched.
"Why?" Amy asked, and everyone's sputtering confusion went silent, and intensified.
"What do you mean why?" Lady Photon asked, baffled, her wide eyes going from Taylor to Amy, uncomprehending.
"I mean why. What's going to happen next? I come with you. Fine. What next? Will you believe me if I said I'm no different than when I got kidnapped? That- that right now, I'm the same person?" Amy asked, and the resulting silence was utterly deafening.
"You can't expect us to just take your word for it. Assuming who Nexus claims took you, is who actually took you two." Brandish said, almost sounding reasonable.
It occurred to her then, that maybe New Wave still didn't believe Heartbreaker had taken their kids, which was… incredibly confusing.
Was it the complete disconnection they had with the PRT after being lied to, and a lack of a general information network that made them unsure of who or what to believe? Or just bizarre paranoia? Did the local PRT's scrambling to keep looking like they were still a force in the city make communication break down this severely between them and the rogues of the Bay?
Amy's expression tightened.
"So what happens next?" Amy pressed, expression split between detached and hopeful.
"Amy, I think you know." Lady Photon said, carefully. "We'll have to give you up to the PRT to go through extensive Master Stranger procedures, and then after everyone can be sure you're alright and safe and healthy, you'll just come back with us, and things will be okay. Everything will be fine."
Amy paused, glancing between her and her family with genuine indecision.
She shrugged.
"Your call, kid." She said, simply.
Amy wet her lips.
"Aunt Sarah, you're really good at lying." Amy said, simply, pursing her lips, before staring at her mother, her sister, her father to the side. "And… because Victoria will probably tell you anyways… Carol was always right about me being a monster waiting to happen." Amy simply said, voice even and calm despite her eyes welling with tears.
Then she turned away, and started walking back to the car, gait unsteady and clipped.
"Amy-!" Laserdream called, jerking forward.
"DON'T YOU DARE-" Brandish shouted.
She slammed the butt of her lance to the ground, the asphalt cracking in wide spiderweb lines for a dozen feet across, halting everyone from the mere sound, including Amy.
"Are you absolutely sure, Amy?" She called, pressing, glancing at the girl out of her corner of her eyes.
Amy glanced back to her, then to her family, eyes wet and lost.
Perhaps what she saw was just two groups of strangers, one old and familiar, and one entirely new and unknown, because she didn't look back again as she walked to the car, got in, and closed the door.
"You Mastered her, didn't you." Brandish snarled.
She and everyone else turned to her with surprise.
Her brows slowly furrowed, brows twitching.
Just… the sheer audacity of this fucking bitch.
"Are you mad?" She hissed, genuinely offended at this point, her voice low and full of acid, the tension in the air as thick as molasses.
"I called you, and all you were concerned about was Victoria. You didn't even think to ask about your other kid. She said you don't love her, but I thought it was just teenage angst exaggerating things. Nice to know I was wrong." She sneered, and Brandish seemed to pause for a second, surprised for some reason.
Her gaze swept to the rest of the family, the gym bag full of something hanging off Lazerdream's shoulder above.
"You brought ransom pay despite me explicitly saying we don't want it nor do we care. We're not doing this to steal your kids or get your money. Get it through your damn head, you worthless cowards. We raided Heartbreaker's turf all the way up in Canada, for your kids, while you sat here, betrayed us, got one of us killed and did god knows what for two fucking weeks straight. We almost lost another one of our own to get your kids back, and this is your response? That we must have Mastered her for her to want to join us? Why the fuck would we tell you about this then? Why give you Victoria?" She snarled, her lance vibrating.
Brandish, instead of reflecting or taking a moment to acknowledge her faults in logic, simply glared at her, furious.
Her lip curled.
"You're not worth my breath. Get the fuck out of our territory, and don't be a nuisance to us ever again. Goodbye."
With that, she turned, flickered her lance into the summon core, and walked back to the car, exposing her back to the team.
Nobody dared start a fight, and nobody followed them as they drove off.
The driver at least found some half-decent music to drown out Amy's sniffles on the drive to a new safehouse, one a little more private than the previous one.
They stopped outside, and the driver stopped, and extended a bunch of keys to Amy, who took them with an air of confusion.
"What are these for?" Amy asked, voice croaky.
The soldier shrugged, gesturing to his mask.
She leaned forward to put her helmet between the seats, and pointed through the windshield, at a thick metal door wedged between two buildings.
"That place. Your new temporary home. Five guards, internet connection, food, water, shower, clothes, anything you'd realistically need to settle down for a couple days and process stuff. You haven't eaten in two-something days, go have a bite, sleep, I don't know. One of our guys there should have a more permanent communication device for you, and when you're ready to learn more about our hierarchy, goals, and what we want you to be working on, call the 'Insight' contact. That's the girl from the bank. She'll situate you and update you on what's going on."
Amy slowly nodded.
"Okay. Uhm. Anything else?"
She shook her head.
"Not from us, no. Any questions?"
Amy hesitated.
"What happened while we were gone? The city's… different."
She sighed, and cracked her neck.
"Just search up 'Brockton Bay Factory Line Fight', 'Executioner', 'Truce breaker', 'ENE Director dead'. You'll figure it out. If there's nothing else, go. We'll check up on you soon. If you're feeling like you're going to have another breakdown, send a message through the urgent line."
Amy slowly nodded again, took a deep breath, and then opened the door, wordlessly walking to the door ahead, wedged deep into an alley, a camera above tracking her.
The car drove away.
It was already afternoon by the time she got back.
Two more to go.
Florence… would be a problem that needed more thought, so she went in the room to microdose her with Zyra's spores, to buy herself a little more time.
Then she took Cherie to the room she had Amy in, now cleaned of all the trash, put her in the chair, peeled her lids up, and pulled the fog out of her mind.
Then she simply shapeshifted into Jarvan, and waited.
A few seconds passed, before the girl twitched, but remained relatively limp.
A fast, peaceful relaxation swept through her-
And she flickered to another Legend, then back, scowling.
"Already trying to Master me? Really kid?" She asked, and Cherie didn't move.
Dismissal coursed through her-
She flickered again, ensuring she'd do it every three-ish seconds, and sighed.
"I know you're awake, drop the bullshit and let's talk."
Cherie sighed, and dropped the act, raising her head and opening her eyes, squinting at her.
"Is this really how someone of The Guild conducts themselves?" Cherie asked, brow raised haughtily as she crossed her arms and leaned back.
She snorted.
"Kid, you're in Brockton. I'm with Nexus. You're not in the law's hands at the moment." She said, and Cherie paused, now significantly more cautious.
She flickered again, and noticed no change. Good, Cherie stopped trying.
"Nexus… sounds kinda familiar, but I'm going to be honest, I have no idea who you are or what you want. How'd you get me here?" Cherie asked, curious.
"Flew you back here. Apologies, but your father's going to die soon. At least you won't be 'punished' anymore, though."
Cherie blinked at her, then grinned with joy, leaning forward, elbow on the table and palm on her cheek.
"Well, could have started with that. Thanks. I'm assuming that's not why you saved me though, assuming you're not heroes."
Man, their family was messed up.
She nodded tiredly.
"Not heroes. Extremist rogue organization, more like. Not villains either. Basically, we figured you'd rather join us than go with the Guild or PRT. Felt like we could at least try to recruit you."
Cherie hummed, stretching her legs and back, subtly.
"Neat. What do I get out of it?"
"Well, protection, for one. The PRT, locally at least, can't touch us with a ten foot pole. We have almost… forty capes here, I think, and another hundred in an undisclosed location, ready to drop in at any time."
Cherie's brows raised, genuinely impressed.
" Wow, you're not even lying. That's crazy." Cherie noted. "Did you just lay low until you had what it took to take over? How come you're unknown?"
She scoffed.
"We're not unknown kid, you just haven't been near a TV or internet connection for a few weeks. But yes, that's what we did initially."
Cherie smiled.
"Nice, you're not complete morons. Hey, I'm kind of woozy and starving, think you have something for me to eat?"
She nodded, and reached for the mind of a soldier outside, telling him to bring some water and light foods like granola bars, et cetera.
"Something light. Now, aside from protection, we offer pay, though for cape standards it's nothing too lavish. Around five hundred grand a year, give or take. The more you prove yourself and your loyalty, more info will become known to you too, and the more you'll be allowed to learn the whys and hows of our decisions. And if you prove yourself consistently, you could expect Tinkertech gifts, combat gear, and eventually, a brute package enhancement. Superhuman strength, speed, but not durability. We have a Trump for that specifically. Ah, and free plastic surgery from a power, when they have time."
Cherie's eyes were practically gleaming, her legs swinging back and forth.
"Hmmmmm… and what's this whole group for? What do you do? What are your goals? It's kind of boring if you're just another mob that wants a fuckload of money to hoard so they can snort diamond dust and blow their loads in little girls."
… What a crass fucking thing to say, good god.
"Yeah, I imagine that song and dance got old pretty quick, with your father being who he is." She noted.
Cherie's expression twisted in distaste.
"You'd imagine right. So, spill."
The door opened, and they both stayed silent as the soldier dropped a jug, a metal cup, and a stack of cereal bars on the table, before walking out.
Cherie poked the bars and curled her nose, but took one and unwrapped it regardless.
"Basically, our goal is to enslave every villain, or at least as many of them that are unredeemable as possible, and use them to annihilate every monster. Whether that's your father, Ash Beast, or the Slaughterhouse 9. Maybe the Endbringers, one day."
Cherie stopped mid-bite, eyes slowly scanning her, somewhere between shocked and intrigued. Slowly, she began to chew again, and swallow, a thoughtful gaze in her eyes.
"Well… that's certainly ambitious. I like it. Not going to lie, I think you will all die horrendously and painfully, but as long as you don't force me to do the same, I'm in, why not. Don't have better options." Cherie said, appearing nonchalant, shrugging.
… That seemed to be a pretty common theme for their pick-ups, now that she thought about it. The retainer girls, Assault maybe, Cherie and Amy definitely. Huh. Maybe even Lisa, too.
… That was kind of strange.
The emotions Cherie exuded were more giddy than anything else, so the cover of 'no other option' was pretty thin on her end, however.
She chuckled, and leaned back.
"So, you're in? Our only stipulation is that you do not use your power on anyone in our organization. And I'm not saying that lightly, we will know, and we will just straight up kill you if you do it without permission from someone high up. We don't mess around with Masters we don't trust yet." She said simply, and Cherie froze, not expecting those words said with the casual, friendly demeanor she kept so far.
Cherie slowly nodded.
"Fair enough." Cherie slowly said. "I'm assuming I can at least prod people to piss off or something benign like that, without getting capped?"
'Capped'? Who talked like that?
"Yes. Keep it to a minimum though, please. And, I have a question."
Cherie nodded.
"Shoot."
"What were you doing in Brockton Bay to begin with?" She asked, genuinely curious.
"Running. Dear old dad sicced my siblings on me because I ran away. That's about it, really. Wanted to pair up with another one of my siblings that used to be around here, but he vanished, so…" Cherie trailed off with a shrug, munching on her cereal bar.
Hm… she couldn't really locate a lie, though omission was certainly possible.
She nodded, and got up.
"Alright. Now, any ideas on how to handle Florence?"
Cherie startled, staring up at her wide-eyed.
"You took Florence? Of all people, fucking Florence? Are you serious? " Cherie groaned. "She doesn't hate me but I can't control that little shit. If she's in a mood and she touches you, you're fucked. Her power forces compulsions tied to actions. Wanna take a shit? Too bad, go on a twenty mile run first, then you can do it. Wanna drink water? Okay, but you have to shove fingers into your throat and make yourself puke it out immediately, right after. God, she's a nightmare. " Cherie shuddered, almost genuinely. "Good luck, I'm not getting near her."
She frowned.
"You're the only good familiar face around, and she's a small child. At least be around her, you don't need to be hugging her."
Cherie's face soured.
"No. I know this sounds wack as all fuck, but just put her in a cage." Cherie shrugged.
She gave the girl a deadpan stare, deeply irritated.
Cherie huffed, then started gesticulating with her arms.
"What? I'm serious! Until you can figure out how to keep the little goblin in line, she'll make everything hell for you and your people. I don't want to be in the same building as her. I could blast her with fear but she's too brain-fucked to notice most of it, so if she decides to ruin my month, one touch is all that it takes. Same goes for all of you. I'm not saying to put her in a tiny kennel or something, but give her a big cage and something to occupy her until you can get someone to either Master her or can handle her without touching her."
Handle her… without touching her…
Oh, wait. Oh no.
Fuck.
She needed Krieg to handle her then, if she was as terrible as Cherie said.
Krieg also had three kids, as far as she remembered, so he shouldn't be too terrible with them.
She put her knuckles to her forehead, and sighed the longest sigh she could sustain.
God damn it.
If he taught the kid how to do the nazi salute or something equally stupid, she'd skin the bastard.
"Alright, how do you feel about cohabbing with three other girls? They can help you get caught up with recent happenings, and their safehouse is well stocked enough to suit your needs for now. One of them has an apartment so she's not even there most of the time."
Cherie shrugged.
"Sure, just give me an apartment soon too because I don't like living with others."
"Alright. Give it a week or two, someone below me will handle it." She said, then guided the girl outside the room, and pointed at a soldier in the hall.
"Tell the driver to take her to the retainer girls' place. Escort her."
"Yes sir." The soldier said, and gestured to Cherie to follow, which she did.
The moment they were gone, she sighed, and reluctantly, she called Krieg, because honestly, it was the best she had at the moment. Someone who couldn't be touched, and had experience with kids.
She paused at a message from Lisa, containing… a picture of an emblem she drew a while ago, sewn into the shoulder-patch of their soldiers.
It looked pretty good, honestly, even if she whipped it up in less than a minute.
She closed the distraction, and went to call Krieg.
She'd just have to make sure she was crystal clear he didn't involve any nazi stuff into his discussions with Florence.
Contessa paused, frowning as her earpiece beeped with urgency.
She stared down the maze of machinery and metal from her scope, and inwardly felt a tinge of annoyance.
No worst time to call her than now. The target would walk into the six-inch gap between the pipes in less than a minute.
Considering it was a high frequency beep, it was important.
Also considering she couldn't actually get a straight answer as to what it was about, it probably had something to do with Earth Bet, instead of SL-14 or BT-3, planets she could actually operate on with any measure of safety.
She decided to wait. If it was that urgent, there would be a portal here, and Eidolon would be dragging her into it, to her great displeasure.
Fifty three point seven seconds later, the grey flooring six hundred feet below changed colour for an instant, and she pulled the trigger.
The bullet went through the top of the investigator's head, and he dropped dead with an echoing, dry thump.
She pulled the rifle out through the chopped up grate, shouldered it, and straightened her hat.
"Door me."
Familiar sterile walls welcomed her as she walked back to Cauldron's main office, and felt another surge of annoyance at the fact that for an urgent meeting, Eidolon was nowhere to be found. She had considered ditching her assassination for nothing.
She dropped the rifle onto the table with grace, straightened her suit, and primly sat down, steepling her hands on her stomach, eyeing Doctor Mother, Legend and Alexandria.
Ten seconds of silence later, a portal brought Eidolon in.
"Was in the middle of a speech." He said, without apology, and dropped into a chair.
"Why are we here?" She asked, cutting to the chase.
Another surge of annoyance, that she actually had to ask now instead of simply knowing.
Doctor Mother steepled her hands, face grim.
"Something's wrong. Clairvoyant observed something highly unusual." Doctor Mother started, and the room went silent, listening. "Firstly, he said he… caught a glimpse. Like for a moment, he could see everything in the entire universe. Not just Earths and its variations across our portals, but the outer planets, and universes without Earths or humans entirely. It went too fast for him to process any of it, because it was gone the next moment, but he had a tremendous headache after. We had to up his dosage. That's the first problem. The second is that Scion noticed this."
The room's tension became as thick as ice and twice as frigid, everyone holding their breath as Doctor Mother frowned.
"He said that Scion stopped flying, glanced somewhere up at the sky, and he looked… confused. Then he vanished for precisely sixteen hours and fifty two minutes, and appeared in Earth Bet again, in the same place. He hasn't moved since, and according to Clairvoyant, he looks… shocked. Wide-eyed and unmoving." Doctor Mother finished.
"Did the dimensional lock that the Entities place fail? If just for a moment?" Alexandria wondered, brows furrowing. "I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Is there any other possible explanation?"
Doctor Mother hummed.
"When powers are involved, anything is possible. But the most likely situation is that yes, the dimensional lock failed. Maybe it has to do with his partner's death. It could just be breaking down because she isn't maintaining it with him. Considering it was fixed in less than half a second, it's unlikely that this is something we can use. But, something similar happened five months ago, apparently, but Scion only briefly paused, at that time, and did not react further, so Clairvoyant simply didn't think to mention it."
Legend's scowl worsened.
"This could be a good thing." She mused, and everyone turned to her. "If it's enough to make him vanish for sixteen hours and go into shock because it's yet another sign of his partner being gone, perhaps we could use it during the final conflict, if only just to distract him. If this happened for the first time five months ago, then again now, this might speed up and happen more often. It's doubtful it could turn the tides or anything, but any distraction is a good thing."
"And if the dimensional lock being gone just drags another Entity to us?" Eidolon pointed out, and the room filled with silence for a second.
"Then they either battle for dominance, and we step in at the aftermath to fight to the death to kill whichever survived, or we have to fight two entities, and we all die. Not much would change, no?" She asked, raising a sculpted brow.
Eidolon stared at her.
Legend seemed to relax, a little.
"Yeah, that… could happen. Let's not jinx it though." Legend shuddered.
Doctor Mother frowned.
"Maybe the dimensional lock is maintained by the dead one, and that's why it's failing. This degree of degeneration makes me wonder, however, would the same apply to powers? It would explain why Eidolon's power is fading. It could be the power source, running out because it's dead."
Contessa frowned.
That… was a very astute observation.
"Are we saying that powers have finite energy?" Alexandria asked.
"Why not? At least, the most powerful ones might. Nothing is infinite. Maybe it has to do with what the power does. Legend is fine, and so are you, but some of our vial recipients do tend to slowly fade out their power…" Doctor Mother noted, then dug a notebook out of her pocket, and began furiously scribbling, ignoring all of them. A breakthrough, or yet another unproven theory.
She tapped her finger on the chair, and then, a thought rose, the main source of her frustrations. Her finger stopped midair.
"When did Taylor Hebert trigger?" She asked, and Alexandria glanced at her, furrowing a brow with confusion.
"March 10." Alexandria replied.
Doctor Mother stopped, and glanced at her, eyes wide.
"Five months ago. Around the start of the month, too." Doctor Mother pointed out, and the room froze. "It might be a coincidence, but she's the only natural Trigger that's ever beaten Alexandria in a fight. If her power is so energy-intensive that it causes the barrier to flicker, she might be more powerful than Eidolon, assuming the energy source is shared between Scion and his partner. It's just a theory so far, but it's the first time we've ever interacted with the dimensional lock." Doctor Mother continued, almost gleeful.
"This is very likely a coincidence, mind you. None of us have any idea how the dimensional lock works, or if Hebert had any effect on it whatsoever. We haven't looked into the phenomenon at all so far, because it's so all-consuming." She said, trying to be the voice of reason, and Doctor Mother seemed to nod, physically, but mentally, nothing much seemed to change.
"Should we keep sabotaging her, then?" Alexandria asked sceptically, ignorant to Eidolon's seemingly well-contained, egotistic seething.
"Of course we should. If anything, we should ramp up, they're becoming a massive problem. We don't need organisational competition from someone using Simurgh bomb clones. What she's doing is dangerous, but she herself is useful. We need to take her organization down, but not kill her, no matter what. If she's more powerful than Eidolon, or at least her… odd hivemind network of capes is, she could prove invaluable in the final fight." Doctor Mother rushed out, then rose, excitedly. "I need to theory craft for a little while. We might have run onto something very useful here. Door me."
The portal opened, and Doctor Mother went through it.
"I'll get to more sabotage, then. Door me." Alexandria said, and left.
"Meeting adjourned, I suppose." Contessa said mildly, and left, back to BT-3, the portal closing behind her as the rest of the team left as well.
She didn't like being here, truth be told, even if it was one of the more distant planets that still allowed her to operate at full capacity.
Her mission was just too grim.
Causing the global food supply to collapse in on itself within such a fragile system would cause uncountable triggers, in perpetuity. Wars, famine, starvation, perfect conditions for more capes to pop up.
She wasn't happy about it, of course. It was vile, horrific, the kind of crime no eternity would ever atone for. Billions dead, a world's population collapsing under its own weight through no fault of their own.
That didn't matter, however. Her feelings about it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the survival of the human race.
No matter what it took, no matter how many corpses clogged the nuclear waste rivers of this sewage-infused world by the time her work was done here.
If a fifth of this world had to die so that they had another million-something capes to throw at Scion, so be it. Because if they lost, trillions would die regardless.
The portal took her back to Section 7, atop one of the giant ferro-rods, and she straightened her cap and suit in the rain, red warning lights flickering on and off in the fog along the rattling walkways as static electricity raised her hair in the air.
Time to talk to yet another corrupt politician, and steal more technological advancements from a world nearly three centuries ahead.
It would be exciting if it wasn't such grim work.
She walked forward, her form swallowed by the fog, only her outline denoting her progress, reflecting red in the mass of grey as the lights kept their endless vigil.
Notes:
I have this strong feeling people won't like this chapter, but I like it quite a lot for some reason, so I'm uploading it. It's a strange feeling, tbh.
Thank you all very, very much for the comments and general support and ideas, they make this story better, give me motivation to write it faster, and just make me smile.
Did you know that now, if you go and sort by Kudos in the filter tab, both Mom Militia and Summoner are on the first page? I was pretty shocked to see that. Crazy. Thx. :)
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone