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Chapter Thirty—Death Comes For Us All

AN: Merry Christmas, everyone, and a Happy New Year! I wanted to get this out by Christmas Day as my present to all of you. Thank you one and all for all of your feedback and support since I began posting this story here on Spacebattles and Fanfiction dot net. It is much appreciated. I hope the New Year brings you all that each and every one of you hope for and deserve. Now, onto the story!

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

"Jim!"

Jim Nelson rolled out of bed, already running by the time he hit the door. Something felt off as he raced down the dimly lit hallway, the only illumination coming from the window at the end which showed dawn just breaking, but he was too busy worrying about Karen's panicked cry to focus upon it. Skidding to a stop in the middle of the kitchen, he shouted, "What's wrong?"

To his dismay, his wife Karen looked ashen as she pointed a trembling finger at the stove. He glanced at it, utterly mystified, then shook his head. "I don't understand, honey. What's going on? Why did you scream?"

She stuttered, "I-itt's the s-stove. Can't you see it?"

Jim almost shook his head again, then stopped and actually looked. A cold shiver slid down his back as he noted just how perfect the stove appeared. Where were the nicks and dents in the enamel top where Karen had dropped that cast iron frying pan nearly five years ago spilling goulash everywhere? Also, why were the burner pans so clean and shiny and new?

He walked over to the stove and carefully examined it. It did look brand new. Except not brand new as in modern, rather brand new as in it looked just like when he'd brought it home from the store. How the hell did a ten year old stove look like it had just been bought yesterday?

"It's not just the stove. The fridge is the same. And the counters. Look at the counters, Jim!"

It was difficult to ignore the edge of hysteria in Karen's voice, but he needed to get to the bottom of this in case it was something dangerous, so Jim carefully checked the counter. That's when he noticed it. The Formica counters that were in the kitchen had seen better days. At least last night they had.

Now, they were immaculate. Utterly perfect. Even the tiny imperfections that had been present when they were first installed were gone, waves formerly present where the glue hadn't been applied quite evenly now flatter than a board. Of course that was when he noticed the paint on the kitchen walls. And the microwave. Additionally, there were the sparkling clear windows that neither of them ever seemed to find time to clean.

Jim carefully touched the counter, relieved that it mostly felt the same way as it always had. He did the same thing to the rest of the appliances, going from item to item to see how they felt. Behind him, he noticed Karen following him and doing the same thing, as if they were both primitives faced with something they didn't understand and needing the reassurance of touch to know that it was real.

He turned and caught her eye, noticing the sheepish grin that stole over her features. "Yeah, I feel the same way. But it was seriously freaking me out. I just needed to be sure whether it was real or not."

Karen nodded her agreement. Her hand still stroking the side of the fridge, she said, "Everything feels real. Not bad or anything. Just brand new."

"Is it affecting the rest of the house?"

After a quick glance at one another, they raced off to check various rooms. Five minutes later, they met back in the kitchen.

Karen reported, "All of our clothes are brand new. No wear at all. Even all of your crusty old work boots are brand new. So is the living room furniture, which means another ten years with that pattern." She didn't sound too thrilled by that little tidbit, but then again, she'd been wanting to replace their couch and love seat for years.

Jim's voice was filled with a bit more tension. "So's the outside of the house and the roof. And our cars. My work truck..."

"What's wrong with your truck?"

"It looks like someone just spent fifty grand restoring it to better than new condition, then polished it within an inch of its life. It's... blingy."

That pulled a choked giggle out of Karen, one that verged on hysteria. "Oh, you poor, poor thing."

Something occurred to Jim. "Let's turn on the TV and watch the morning news. I get the feeling that this isn't affecting just our house."

Fifteen minutes later, they were aware of three things. First, that the entire city of Brockton Bay looked brand new according to the talking heads reporting from the scenes. Whether it was the middle of the worst of the gang areas, or the finest neighborhood in the city, all were perfect, as was every single sidewalk, street, and building.

Second, that the handful of instances of panicked violence had been quelled by the simple fact that nothing anyone did to damage anything around them worked. Personal violence was dealt with by intervening walls of thin material that rose up between combatants. Violence against the city itself simply disappeared as soon as occurred, assuming it had any effect at all.

Third, no one was going to work that day. The city authorities had called in a State of Emergency and were advising everyone to stay indoors. What they were not advising was for anyone to be out moving around just in case something terrible happened.

Looking at the reporter on the TV screen who was mouthing platitudes, Jim shook his head. "Yes, stay indoors because, clearly, this isn't affecting your homes. Stay indoors because, clearly, anyone who would give us a brand new city is a bad guy who intends us harm. How is staying in our homes going to keep us safe when it's our homes that are part of the problem?"

Karen gestured at the picture on their TV, which was eerily clear, more like that of an HD TV, than the fourteen-year-old tube TV that it was. "Maybe we should listen to them, Jim. Regardless of the results, we don't know anything about the motivations of the person who did this."

"Maybe you're right, honey. Or maybe not. Only time will tell."

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Sarah Pelham felt a cold shiver running down her spine as she watched the news. So it wasn't just their home and that of her sister's family that were affected. Not that she had thought it could be, but the results were just so strange that she had briefly wondered if someone nearby had triggered with some odd and intense form of Shaker ability.

As it turned out, no Shaker had the power to affect an entire city since the demise of Shatterbird. Even her power had been limited to just one material, silica, and would never have been able to accomplish what was happening here.

More than ever, Sarah was glad that the decision had been made to align New Wave with Iron Man. The unknown Shaker or Tinker behind what was occurring all around them made her glad that they had what might just be the highest rated Tinker in the world on their side.

She'd already checked to make sure that the new gear that they had been given yesterday was working properly, which it was. So clearly Iron Man's technology wasn't affected by whatever was happening. Sarah had even made a small scratch in the outside casing of one of the forcefield projectors, feeling utterly relieved to see it stay there, unlike the similar one she'd made on her counter, which had disappeared like magic in less than a minute.

Her cell phone rang and a quick glance at the number there had her answering it. "Lady Photon here. What can I do for you, Director Piggot?"

"Lady Photon, I am making an official request for the aid of New Wave in helping patrol in the aftermath of this emergency. Showing the flag will help keep panic down and make sure there's no rioting."

Well, she thought in trepidation, it was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Sarah said, "Director Piggot, it is my pleasure to announce that Next Wave of the Human Defense Initiative Brockton Bay will be happy to provide aid to the PRT and Protectorate in their time of need."

There was a brief silence on the phone before Director Piggot, her voice sounding as if she was attempting to engage in a particularly painful bodily function, gritted out, "So it's going to be like that, is it?"

"Like what, Director Piggot?"

If anything, the woman sounded even more strained than before as she said, "Take over the patrol routes from the Wards from the Boardwalk to the Trainyard and north to the Ship's Graveyard."

"Will do, Director Piggot," Sarah stated to the dial tone as the irritated woman had already hung up.

Sarah took a moment to call her sister and rouse out her husband and children. Then she called their benefactor.

After just one ring, a synthesized voice said, "Iron Man here. What can I do for you, Lady Photon?"

Sarah smiled at how prompt he was to answer her call. It was a good sign for their working relationship going forward. Then, remembering the reason she'd called in the first place, she said, "Iron Man, the PRT has requested the aid of Next Wave in patrolling the city. Of course, I agreed to help. I also thought that this would be a good opportunity for us to work together, as well as take care of that other matter after."

"I agree. I can meet you in fifteen minutes in your patrol area. We can talk face to face afterward. Iron Man out."

Sarah hung up the line, and only realized when she and the others were on their way toward the docks that she had never told Iron Man exactly what their patrol area was. Oh well, she mused, he could always call her up and ask. Then again, maybe he already knew where they were going and why based upon the complete lack of surprise in his voice.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Taylor flew toward the cluster of airborne figures that were moving at a fair clip toward one leg of their patrol route, while spreading out to cover more territory. Of course her arrival made them gather once more.

She responded to the scattered greetings sent her way. "Hello, everyone. How is the gear I sent you working out?"

Laserdream was exuberant as she called, "I love it! Now my forcefield is as strong as Eric's... err... I mean, Shielder's!"

The teenage girl, her white bodysuit with its magenta comet symbol flashing in the early morning sun, flew a loop around Taylor, slightly buffeting her with one edge of her forcefield.

"Sorry!" she called.

Lady Photon's voice was repressive as she said, "Laserdream, control yourself. You could hurt someone."

Taylor decided to play peacemaker. "No worries. I'm glad to see you all using the new gear. I take it that everything's working fine, then?"

Lady Photon nodded briskly. "Yes, it is. I have some questions for you later regarding the weapons you sent, but that can wait until our meeting."

Taylor had already noticed that they weren't carrying the repulsor rifles she'd sent the day before. Maybe there was an issue with the output being too low. She had plenty of time to find out later. After all, today's route was going to the safest and most boring one she had ever gone out on.

Lady Photon called, "Laserdream, Shielder, spread out. Glory Girl, take the north route but stay in contact. Iron Man, if you would, fly with us for two circuits, then head down and spent a few minutes patrolling with our ground members."

Amused by the way that the woman took charge, Taylor said, "Of course, Lady Photon."

The next couple of hours was fairly boring, the only exciting part of it meeting up with Brandish and others. The woman was surprisingly civil to Taylor, although she could see the resentment hidden in her eyes. The team's other members, Manpower, Flashbang, and Panacea more than made up for it by being quietly friendly.

Walking in her armor wasn't difficult, but it felt ridiculously slow compared to how fast she could fly. Still, Taylor was already planning on giving the ground bound members of Next Wave flight units so that their next patrol together would go faster.

"Thanks for being patient and hanging back with us, Iron Man."

Taylor glanced over toward Manpower at his words. The tall, powerfully built man was smiling down at her which felt weird, and inside her helmet she smiled back. Aloud, she said, "No worries, Manpower. I hope you don't mind, but I'm already planning to provide you all with flight units for next time."

The man laughed. "Why would we mind? I'd love to be able to fly. Not to mention how fast patrols would go if we all could cruise through the air like my wife and kids."

That seemed to draw Brandish out of her shell as she asked, "How would these 'flight units' work?"

Taylor was careful to be extra polite toward the prickly woman as she answered, "Well, Brandish, I would basically replace the forcefield belts I gave you with one that combined the two functions. It would use anti-gravity technology to keep you aloft and moving. Speeds would be limited to about two hundred miles per hour, but it would definitely increase your versatility."

Flashbang commented, "I could get behind that. Not to change the subject, but Iron Man, do you know anything about what's going on? About what they're calling 'The Conversion?'"

Taylor knew she had to be careful what she revealed. "I know it's nanotech-based. The reason everything around us looks brand new is because it has all been replaced by trillions of tiny machines that emulate their functions."

"That car, for instance," she pointed toward a what appeared to be a mid-seventies sedan which now looked completely brand new, "is now just a huge pile of tiny machines that simulate the vehicle's function."

Brandish looked disturbed as she asked, "So there's nothing around us not composed of these machines?"

Taylor shrugged. "My armor isn't. Other than it, your forcefield projectors, and any other gear I've given you, that's about all. Oh, and us, of course."

The remainder of the patrol went about the same way. Taylor was gratified to observe firsthand that everything was working exactly as intended. She even got to see Brandish frustrated when she was unable to get to a potential fight before the city itself intervened.

All too soon, though, it was time for her meeting with Lady Photon where she would be revealing who she actually was. As the two of them flew toward HTech, Taylor contemplated exactly how much she was going to tell the other woman. Almost certainly not everything, but she might get as far as to outline the potential future she had calculated for the human race if someone didn't stop the Endbringers.

Entering into HTech through the roof, the two of them walked down a corridor toward Taylor's lab. She'd decided that it would be best to reveal herself there as there was both privacy and proof if the other woman doubted her identity.

Stopping Taylor just as they walked into her lab, Lady Photon asked, "I take it that this is where the big reveal is going to take place?"

Taylor nodded. "Yes, if that's okay?"

"Of course it is. A bit intimidating, but pretty much what I would expect from a Tinker."

With the door shut behind them, Taylor no longer had an excuse for not revealing her identity to the other woman. Seeming to sense her hesitation, Lady Photon said, "Don't worry, Iron Man. I promise that I won't reveal your identity to anyone else, even the other members of my team. And you already know who I am.″ In a grand tone, she introduced herself again, ″My name is Sarah Pelham also known as Lady Photon, but please just call me Sarah."

With that, Taylor bit the bullet and sent a command to release her helmet's attachment to her armor. Carefully removing it, she turned to face the stunned gaze of Next Wave's leader. Gravely, she said, "It's nice to meet you out of costume, Sarah. My name when I'm not Iron Man is Taylor Hebert."

There was no response from the woman in front of her. Taylor moved over to allow JARVIS to automatically remove her armor as Sarah Pelham wordlessly stared at her. By the time she was down to the formfitting bodysuit she usually wore beneath her armor, the other woman had regained her voice. "What the hell? Are you kidding me? How old are you?"

Taylor couldn't help the grin that turned the edges of her mouth upward at Sarah's confusion. "Sorry about that. Maybe I should have said something to prepare you, but I really don't know what I could have said that would make it better. As to how old I am, I turn sixteen in June."

"So you're fifteen now? You're younger than either of my kids or my two nieces. How exactly does a fifteen-year-old girl become Iron Man?" Sarah stopped, took a deep breath, then released it while Taylor stared. "Sorry, ignore that. I didn't mean to ask about your trigger event."

While it was probably accurate to describe what had happened to Taylor as a trigger event, she wasn't exactly a Parahuman. Still, she appreciated Sarah's discretion. Aloud, she said, "It's fine. I understand that you're a bit shocked. But it's okay. Ask what you want."

"When did you trigger?"

"In December."

Again, there was a brief silence as the woman processed Taylor's words. "How exactly did you accomplish all of this in such a short time? I mean, I am finding it hard to believe that you not only invented all of the items that I see here, but apparently started this company. H stands for Hebert, doesn't it?" She chuckled looking slightly embarrassed. "I thought it might possibly, but that the Hebert involved was your father, not you."

Taylor really shouldn't be surprised when other people showed they could be smart as well. "Yes, it does. I did found the company using start up capital from selling some inventions on the open market."

"How did you figure out your specialization so early? I mean, my understanding of how most Tinkers work is that it takes months at a minimum for them to figure out their specialization."

Taylor shrugged. "I just knew. It was easy to build all of this. The hardest thing was getting materials."

Sarah nodded. "That sounds familiar. Let me guess, junkyards?"

"Oh yeah. I spent way too much time digging out catalytic converters for the rare metals they contained. In the end, I had enough to build my first item."

Sarah made a tentative gesture toward the various items scattered all over her lab's tables. She started to touch one item, then stopped short. "Can I ask about this stuff? Is any of it intended for the members of the HDI?"

"Not exactly. For example, what you almost touched is a gravity well inverter." At the confused look on Sarah's face, Taylor explained, "It would allow someone to mine material from within a super strong gravity well. It's the only way to obtain Neutronium, for example."

"Why would you need neutro- never mind, I don't need to know. I take it that you have more plans than just us, then. After your press conference..." Sarah stopped, a sudden look of nausea on her face.

Taylor waited a moment for Sarah to continue speaking, but when she didn't after more than a minute, she said, "I know it's a lot to take in. Yes, I do have plans to-"

"You killed the Slaughterhouse Nine."

Sarah didn't sound like she was accusing Taylor of anything, more like she was a puzzle that the other woman was trying to understand. "Umm..."

"You, Taylor Hebert, a fifteen-year-old girl, killed the Slaughterhouse Nine."

Taylor calmly agreed, "Yes, I did."

"How can you be so calm about it? You fought the most vicious, murderous group of capes that have ever existed and killed them all in a span of minutes, most within the first couple of seconds. What is wrong with you?"

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Sarah had not meant to say it that way. She regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. Even if they were indicative of how she really felt about the teenage girl in front of her. Even now, Taylor didn't react like any other teenager would have if something so confrontational and potentially degrading had been said to them.

Instead of tears or anger coupled with wild denials, Taylor Hebert just stared at Sarah, her face a calm mask. Then with a sigh of what could only be amused frustration, she said, "Damn. I was hoping to keep you out of the inner circle, Sarah, but I guess I'm going to have to bring you in after all. You're a bit too intelligent and perceptive to just be another cog in the machine."

Sarah had been puzzled and more than a little shocked before, dealing with all of the surprises that Taylor brought to the table. Now she felt a sensation of vague uneasiness stealing over her. "What do you mean? What inner circle? What the hell is going on?"

Taylor tilted her head and called out, "Dad, Trish, JARVIS, Sherrel. Can you all come in now?"

A gesture from the teenage cape had a six-sided table rising from the floor to fill the empty space in front of her lab tables with accompanying chairs. Then three people walked into the room through the same door that the two of them had entered through earlier.

The first was an older man that Sarah recognized as Danny Hebert, the CEO of HTech and Taylor's father. He had been in the news quite a lot lately because of his company... her company, rather. After all, Taylor was the true owner of the company as well as the power behind the throne.

The second was an attractive young woman with shoulder-length black hair, although the blonde roots showing indicated that the dark color had clearly come from a bottle. Her sharp, inquisitive green eyes coupled with what could only be described as a manic grin made her someone to be wary of. She was most likely Trish Rogers, Vice President in Charge of Operations. Young for her position, but then again, she was older than Taylor by a year or two.

The third person was a young woman of around twenty who seemed oddly familiar. The girl had pale blonde hair that ran halfway down her back and a placid smile. Her eyes, though, were razor sharp and seemed constantly to be pulled toward the partially completed inventions piled all over the various work tables. This must be the Sherrel Taylor had named, Sarah decided. Although who else she might have been was up in the air. Based upon her behavior, Sherrel was almost certainly another Tinker.

Now the only person missing was this Jarvis.

Sarah took a seat at a gesture from Taylor and watched while the others did the same. Nodding toward the empty seat, she asked, "So when is Jarvis going to be joining us?"

From the empty air above her, causing her to jump, came a cultured, British voice, which said, "Mrs Pelham, I am already present. Greetings. I am JARVIS: Just a Rather Very Intelligent System."

Sarah turned raised brows Taylor's way. "Jarvis is an AI? If so, why the chair?" She carefully didn't comment on the fact that Taylor had created an AI, something which she didn't think any other person on the planet had done yet. It also raised yet another series of questions and concerns within her.

Taylor shrugged. "Call it a gesture of respect toward a friend. This way, JARVIS knows he always has a seat at this table whenever we gather."

"So this is a what? Some kind of cabal tasked with global domination? I can see how an AI would come in handy if you're trying to take over the world." Sarah knew her voice was snippy, but it tended to get that way when she got nervous. Facing a group that might turn out to have villainous intentions tended to make one feel that way, especially when you were outnumbered four to one.

Across the table from her, Trish laughed out loud. "I now see why you wanted to bring her in on this. I mean, Tony's instincts are usually good, but I had my doubts at first from observing through the monitor. But you're absolutely right. Sarah's going to be a great help to our project."

The girl in front of her had just raised more questions than she had answered, something which, from the teasing look in her eyes she was completely aware of. Hotly, Sarah said, "You're either going to tell me what the hell you are up to here or I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I won't hold back."

Taylor gave her a reassuring smile. "Relax, Sarah, you're among friends. I agree that you do need to know everything. So sit back and get comfortable while I tell you how the world ends in a little more than fifty-seven years as well as what we're doing to stop it."

Stunned, Sarah did exactly as Taylor Hebert suggested. Three hours later, she was flying back to rejoin her team, her mind awhirl with facts and figures, theories and suppositions, as well as a growing sense of having fallen down the rabbit hole.

Sarah was also frankly terrified. Because the threats that Taylor Hebert had outlined to her were all centered around an unknown danger that the teenager was still struggling to identify. Some underlying source not only for powers, but one that possessed the power to single-handedly destroy the entire world.

It was so far beyond anything that Sarah had ever dreamed of being involved in when she had first helped to form New Wave all of those years before. Her ideas back then of social responsibility by Parahumans seemed to trivial today when faced with the Herculean task of saving the world. Plus, somehow she had to keep her family safe through an upcoming confrontation that could destroy everything. That is, if she could believe everything that she had seen and heard over the past few hours.

For the umpteenth time since sitting down at the table back at HTech, Sarah asked herself if she was being mastered. Of course, how would she know one way or another when the person who was asking the question was also the person who might be mastered? Somehow, though, she didn't think so.

No, she had just been hit with the biggest hammer that had ever existed right between the eyes. New information and a near endless array of facts that even the hours of discussion hadn't been able to completely flesh out tended to do that to one. It was so much information that most of it had been put onto a flash drive to be reviewed later on her personal computer.

Of course the idea that JARVIS had already been inside her computer and those of her team made Sarah feel both relieved and a little violated, whether he'd secured it from others doing the same or not. It wasn't as if she had anything all that private upon her computer, but she suspected her daughter, Crystal, and her niece, Victoria, would vehemently disagree with the idea of being monitored that way. She, on the other hand, would wait and see if the AI turned out to be a threat.

Certainly JARVIS appeared to be perhaps the most civilized member of the cabal which she had just joined. He and Danny seemed to be the group's heart and conscious, while Taylor was clearly the brain. Trish, on the other hand, appeared not only to be their agent provocateur, but her Thinker abilities gave them an ability to analyze data in a way that not even an AI could emulate.

Sarah's own role in Taylor's little group seemed as if it was going to be a mix of strategist and parent. She found it bizarre that the label that had followed her around for so many years, 'Photon Mom', was now likely to be a duty to be carried out for a group that clearly needed someone to fill that role. Just the glimpse of the way their group interacted told her that much.

As a strategist, she would share that role with the hidden seventh member of the group. It had been strange and more than a little disturbing to find out that Taylor Hebert, a fifteen-year-old girl, had all of the memories of a forty-three year-old playboy and inventor from another world named Tony Stark aka Iron Man. That this transfer had likely been facilitated by a Cosmic Being from another reality pushed Sarah's credibility to its very limits.

In so many ways, though, it explained quite a lot of things, from Taylor's intensely pragmatic view of how to deal with extremely dangerous and violent Parahumans, to the peculiar vibe she'd gotten that the girl had checked her out a couple of times. While the man's intellect and other gifts were fascinating, Sarah was quite a bit less impressed with what were his equally obvious flaws of being a drunk and womanizer.

Still, Sarah hoped that the girl would agree with her suggestion that she get to know her and Carol's kids, either as just plain old Taylor or as Taylor Hebert aka Iron Man. Certainly Danny had agreed with her that his daughter needed more of a social outlet. Oddly, even Trish had agreed that it would be healthy for the both of them, although Sarah wasn't one hundred percent certain she wanted someone as clearly mischievous as the blonde Thinker joining in. The only person the girl seemed to listen to was Danny, but then again, maybe that was a sign she'd respect her and Carol's authority. Then Sarah considered the challenging looks she gotten intermittently throughout the meeting. Yeah right, she thought.

Realizing that she'd arrived at her rendezvous point with her teammates, Sarah landed just in front of the group. To the curious stares sent her way, she said, "Okay, everyone, I've met Iron Man in his civilian identity. I don't think there's any doubt that he can be trusted. I still hope to get him to socialize with us in his civilian identity, but nothing's been finalized there."

Her niece, Victoria, burst out, "Is he hot? I bet he's hot."

Frowning at the giggles from both Crystal and Victoria, Sarah stated, "I can't discuss Iron Man's physical appearance. It would violate the terms of our agreement."

With years of practice, Sarah managed to ignore the murmurs of "So hot" followed by increasingly loud bursts of giggles, although it looked like her sister was having less success. Oddly, Mark seemed to be taking it better than Carol, which was surprising considering his depression. Then again, this seemed to be one of his better days as he acted more like the man her sister had married all those years ago than the automaton he'd sometimes become.

She listened as Mark said in a playful voice, ″Girls, none of that. You'll make Neil and I feel like we're not the sexiest men in your lives anymore.″

As a chorus of ″Eww's″ rang out, Mark nodded while waving grandly. ″My work here is done.″

Focusing back on the task at hand, Sarah stated, "The only other announcement I have is that Iron Man has already designed the flight packs for our non-flying members and will be delivering them tomorrow. He's bringing enough for all of us, even those with Mover abilities, as a back up just in case someone is knocked out in midair. They'll keep us from crashing into the ground if we're knocked unconscious midair."

Her son, Eric, looked faintly put out, while her other niece, Amy, actually looked excited to be able to fly on her own. Then again, he might be still upset over her decision to not allow them to bring the repulsor rifles on today's patrol. Considering just how powerful the things were, she wanted to make sure they had a chance to test fire them before they implemented them as part of their regular gear. Maybe they could get some practice time in over the next day or two and...

Sarah's thoughts slowly ground to a halt as she stopped repressing something from earlier. She'd avoided thinking about exactly how dangerous the situation which she had gotten herself and her family involved in ever since the meeting had ended by focusing on the minutia of her daily duties and responsibilities. At some point, though, she was going to have to come to terms with keeping their ultimate goal from her team.

She was momentarily distracted from her dark thoughts by Victoria teasing, ″Uncle Neil may be built, but you're not, Dad. So get over yourself.″

Mark grabbed his chest as if he'd been stabbed, which drew a smile from even her sister Carol. Then he grabbed his daughter and threatened to muss her hair as she shrieked loudly.

With a heavy heart, Sarah Pelham did her best to join in with her family's lighthearted banter.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

The head of the PRT, Director Rebecca Costa-Brown, frowned as she stared at the building before her. She asked, "So this is where it stops?"

Armsmaster, his own frown even more intense than her own, stated, "The nominal effects stop here. But when I test for nanomachines they're present far beyond even this point. They're spreading."

"So there's no point in attempting to quarantine Brockton Bay? The contagion has already escaped its bounds?"

Director Piggot stood next to them looking uneasy. It was she, though, who answered, "No point at all. Armsmaster tells me that he's finding faint traces of nanomachines everywhere he's tested. Including in soil samples from New York City, Boston, Chicago, and Los Angeles."

Rebecca turned toward the armored cape. "Why did it take you so long to bring this to our attention?"

Of course the man wasn't even faintly defensive she thought resentfully as he stated, "As soon as I detected traces of nanotechnology outside the bounds of a laboratory I sent in a routine report. I never heard back from anyone even when the traces began showing up in soil samples from multiple locations. Regardless, I never expected the ultimate severity of what has occurred."

Yes, Rebecca thought, the 'severity' of what had occurred. A euphemism for the entire city of Brockton Bay becoming some form of nanotechnology. Every building. Every street. Every vehicle. The manufacturing facilities. Everything.

It was utterly terrifying. If this turned out to be the first step toward another Ellisburg, Rebecca wasn't certain that the human race would survive. Right now, the effect was benign. But it could so easily turn malign. Something that Emily Piggot likely understood from her own pallor.

At the moment, only the criminals were complaining. Illegal drugs had disappeared completely. Theft of any form had stopped working, as the money just returned to where it had been stolen from moments after the criminals left. And person on person violence simply wasn't possible when walls rose to defend the person being attacked.

In a brisk tone, Rebecca stated, "Let's head out. We need to meet and discuss who might be responsible as soon as possible."

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Emily Piggot sat at the head of the conference table, all too aware that Director Costa-Brown sat opposite her at the foot. Around her sat the members of the local Protectorate, with Armsmaster and Miss Militia flanking her on either side. Around her, video screens showed the faces of prominent heads of other PRT branches. All were waiting to see how she would handle this.

"We have narrowed down the possibilities of who could be behind the nanotechnology that is currently infesting Brockton Bay. Fortunately, our own Armsmaster has been cleared of involvement, both because he was the first person to report it and because Dragon has independently confirmed that the energy signature of the technology does not match his own specialty across any of the eight points of the Banks-Rosenberg Standard."

Director Tagg, his own eyes hooded in suspicion, asked, "How do we know that Dragon and Armsmaster aren't in on it together? That would be the perfect way for them to disguise what they're doing. Two of the most preeminent Tinkers of our time working together to take over the world."

Armsmaster's voice was matter of fact as he said, "Besides the fact that the nanotechnology is beyond anything that either Dragon or myself have ever seen? I wish I could create such small and efficient machines operating so effectively. The truth is, this nanotech plague is like nothing like I've ever encountered. Or even imagined. An entire city operating on a macroscale far more efficiently than even my halberd. Amazing."

Emily took back over her meeting before Director Tagg could open his mouth again. "That's very informative, Armsmaster. Director Tagg, if you have problems with our choices, feel free to bring them up after the meeting. I'm sure that Director Costa-Brown would be happy to listen."

She considered it a job well done that the man was left speechless and fuming. Continuing, Emily said, "The list is as follows: Schism, Reostat, Bad Circuit, Doctor Amazing, Twisted Pair, Cranium, and Cutting Edge. We will be investigating each and ever one of these individuals to see if any of them could be responsible for Brockton Bay's transformation."

Director Mendoza, out of El Paso, Texas, spoke, "I notice that you haven't included any of the local Tinkers on this list. Most of the ones you have included are from hundreds of miles away at a minimum. While I understand that Armsmaster has been cleared, what about ah... Squealer is it? Or Trainwreck? And then there's Iron Man. As well as your own Ward, Kid Win. Plus my understanding is that there's been reports of yet another new Tinker running around using some form of motorized skates."

With a sideways flick of her eyes, Emily indicated for Miss Militia to handle that one. She sat back in silence as the cape spoke, "Squealer disappeared during an attack upon HTech's facilities over a month ago. We believe she is either dead or has fled the scene and subsequently the city. Trainwreck's specialization is just too different from the nanoplague. Kid Win, on the other hand, is under constant supervision. Plus he has yet to even discover his specialization. He is simply not capable of the level of concentration necessary to create what we're seeing here. The reports you mention about a new Tinker are just that, reports. We have yet to pin him down. But somehow, if he could turn an entire city into nanotech, I don't see him riding around on skates."

"I notice you don't mention Iron Man in your explanation. What about him?"

This time it was Armsmaster who responded to Emily's silent request. His voice was carefully neutral as he stated, "Iron Man, as of this moment, is considered to be the most highly rated Tinker alive today. We've assigned him Tinker 10, the first ever. Dragon has conceded that he is building technology that is more advanced than anything she is capable of building. Equally important, it is based upon current human technology and scientific principle, making it completely reproducible. However, he has never built anything that is even remotely like what we are seeing here. All of his technology tends for the most part to be big and flashy; the Psionic Dampeners the only thing he's built that has any true miniaturization principles involved."

Armsmaster stopped for a moment, and Emily urged him to not say what he was considering saying. Unfortunately, he had to go there as he finished with, "My own analysis of his tech is that this is not truly beyond him, merely that it is out of character based upon my own projections of his character and attitudes. However, Dragon disagrees, saying that anyone who could envision and build a suit that could so easily eliminate the Slaughterhouse Nine, is likely to have far fewer limitations on what they might choose to build and use than we can imagine. Based upon her analysis, he should not only be on our list of possible suspects, but right at the very top."

A cynical voice from down the table stated, "There's just one problem with that, Armsmaster."

Emily used her frostiest tone, attempting to squash Assault's comment before it could be delivered in front of this entire group, "Are you certain that you wish to add something, Assault?"

Assault shrugged. "Yeah. The point I was going to make is that if it were Iron Man, who exactly is going to be the one to take him in?" He looked directly at Director Costa-Brown as he asked, "Are you going to be calling an Endbringer Truce and bringing in heroes and villains from all over the country to deal with him if it turns out that he's responsible for it? Because, to be frank, I don't see anything less being capable of stopping him. After all, we've all seen the video of how he dealt with the Slaughterhouse Nine."

Into the resulting silence, Assault muttered, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

A few moments later the meeting was over and Emily fumed as she headed to her office. She would be having words with Armsmaster and even more with Assault about the way they had gone off script. The last thing that Brockton Bay needed was to have its leadership at odds during such a crucial time.

Because there was no doubt about it, today was a critical point in the history of this city. What had happened, the entire infrastructure of the city being turned into blocks of tiny machines, was frankly terrifying. To Emily, it was as if it were Ellisburg all over again. The last couple of nights, she'd woken repeatedly awash with perspiration with fading images of monstrous forms rising from the very fabric of the city itself to devour its citizens.

Shivering, she pressed the number in the elevator for her floor. The only saving grace of this entire fiasco was that there was virtually no panic among the ordinary people of the city.

Oddly, a much larger than expected number of Brockton Bay's citizens had embraced the strange situation that they found themselves in. Their entire city repairing itself until it looked like new overnight should have sent them into a frenzy of fear. Instead, most of them had, after a few initial qualms, gone to work and spent the day following the conversion going about their regular lives.

Today was day three ATC, the ATC standing for After The Conversion, and it had appeared to be going on as normally as day two had. Or day one. A few people were worried, mainly those in service industries that depended upon the wear and tear that time's effects had upon manufactured items to earn their living, but most simply enjoyed working in new, safe locations, while going home to sturdy, well-built houses that looked brand new, or to apartments that were cleaner, safer, and better built than when they were first constructed.

Even stranger, today had marked the first day that some items had broken down, like a handful of cars, buses, and other machinery, both governmental and privately owned. Emily had read the reports of repair shops that now had work to keep their employees busy. Although how a car broke down when the car, all of its parts, and even the parts that were to be replaced within it, were all blocks of nanomachines was beyond her understanding.

No, most likely it was because the author of this plague intended it to be so. He likely didn't want to disrupt the entire local economy so he would allow some things to occur as usual, while others that were less disruptive changed permanently. It was as Machiavellian of of a plot as any Emily had ever encountered and it scared her to death.

Most of the time the PRT and Protectorate were able to take down villains simply because those same villains simply weren't as organized and didn't plan as well as the governmental agencies that opposed them. That handful of villains and groups that were well organized and made careful plans, were incredibly dangerous. Empire 88 coming to mind as an example.

Whoever the cape was who had done this to Brockton Bay was both organized and apparently had planned out some strategy whereby this was likely just the first step. That there was nothing that they could do about it was perhaps the most stressful part of all of this. Even if they identified the Parahuman in question, Assault was correct in asking how they would be able to take that person in when the entire city was theirs.

A final shiver went down Emily's spine as she walked into her office contemplating Brockton Bay rising up like some kind of colossus to defend the Parahuman for whom they were looking. She banished the image from her mind before it spawned a fresh set of nightmares.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Jim walked around his truck again before sighing and getting inside. The twenty year old Ford F-150 had seen better days before what had happened a week ago. They were calling it the Conversion. Jim truthfully didn't know how he felt about driving around in a shiny, brand new truck with fancy leather seats, but then again, at least the heater worked now.

No, what had initially worried him was that they would lose all of the work they had obtained as far as salvaging the Ship's Graveyard was concerned. Fortunately, that fear had not come to fruition. The work site had been exactly the same when he had gone back to work after taking the day of the Conversion itself off.

That had been a weird day, not just because of the fact that every channel was running the same subject, which left him with nothing to do. Certainly there was nothing to fix around the house for the first time in forever. Jim had been reduced to talking to the neighbors, who had about as much of an idea of what had happened as he did.

At least by today everyone had figured out that there hadn't been any adverse effects. The city seemed to be settling into things fairly well. Even the gangs kept their heads down to the point that there hadn't been even a single bit of gang-related news on the television.

At first, a lot of people had shared Jim's worries over their jobs, from automotive repair shops to plumbers, because of the fact that the entire city was brand new. However, after a grace period of about three days, things had begun to slowly break down again, providing work for everyone involved.

It did seem to Jim that things weren't breaking down quite as often as before, but they were breaking down. Not that his truck had a single issue, sitting there so bright and shiny, as if it had rolled off of the lot moments before. Not even the mud puddle he'd run it through two days ago had managed to mar the finish and he didn't want to think about how long it had taken for him to find a puddle surrounded as they were by all of the well-drained streets with their perfectly laid out sections of pavement topped with matte black asphalt.

Still, he had to admit it was nice to see his guys using cutting torches that worked like they were supposed to, just as if they were brand new. Even the cables on the hoists were without wear, although in their defense, they had been new when provided by HTech for the salvage job.

Shaking his head again, Jim got in his truck, refusing to admit that he rather enjoyed sitting on a seat that didn't have broken springs that poked him in his back and butt. Another day and another dollar, he thought in amusement. Maybe tonight after work they could rent a movie, one of those Earth Aleph versions of a familiar one.

His whistling slightly off key, Jim headed to work.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

"Miss? You have visitors."

Taylor looked up from her lab table where she was putting some finishing touches on would likely be an anti-matter power unit sometime within the next three weeks. Once complete, another device she was working on, a Transdimensional Shifter, would likely be able to open a gateway into an anti-matter universe where she could gain the material to power it. Once it was self-sustaining, it would allow her to remove the thirty ARC reactors that surrounded it and powered its forcefields, as well as this side of the paired gate that would send it careening somewhere well beyond the orbit of Pluto in the event something went wildly wrong.

But that was only after she dealt with whatever crisis was happening today. Thanks to Trish, Taylor pretty much knew who it was as well as what they wanted, as the other girl had modeled this scenario over a week before once Garden Spot went live.

"I take it that they want to speak to Iron Man, JARVIS?"

"Yes, Miss. Perhaps you should 'suit up', as they say."

Taylor gave a wry shake to her head as the AI's antics, but knew he was right. She needed to talk to these people as Iron Man, not a teenage girl named Taylor Hebert. She casually pushed a disguised switch on the underside of her lab table, which not only locked the doors, but also opened a different hidden door to one side.

She walked through the doorway, then down a narrow hallway. A moment later, she was being clad in her armor as various robotic arms slid piece after piece onto her body. Once complete, she walked up to another doorway that automatically opened into the main conference room of HTech. Taylor couldn't help the grin of pure joy that took over her features as she calculated that the gate she'd just stepped through had deposited her a couple of hundred feet horizontally and nearly nine stories up. Technology in general rocked, but her tech rocked so much more than everyone else's.

Of course, the looks of surprise upon the faces of her visitors was even more enjoyable. Clearly, neither Armsmaster, Miss Militia, or Assault had expected her to appear so promptly. Then again, half of any battle was keeping your adversary off balance. Whether this was going to denigrate into a battle remained to be seen, but the local Protectorate had brought some of its heavy guns, if not all, with the others just a few blocks away from HTech's campus in a plain white van.

Using her synthesized voice, Taylor said, "Greetings. What can I do for the local Protectorate today? Is it time for another donation to your Annual Charity Ball benefiting widows and orphans?"

Of course, it was Armsmaster who took charge, stepping forward and tersely saying, "Iron Man, this is not a time for levity. We've come to discuss the situation here in Brockton Bay with you."

"What situation?"

"Don't play coy with me. The release of nanotechnology that has transformed the local landscape and threatens to do the same with the rest of the country and perhaps even the world. What do you know about this matter?"

Taylor grinned again, glad they couldn't see her face or they would likely be even more upset. In an indifferent voice, she said, "You mean the urban renewal project? I thought it was one of yours. That maybe it had escaped from your lab."

It was Miss Militia who stepped forward to play peacemaker, clearly acting as good cop to Armsmaster's bad. "Iron Man, there are serious concerns as to what is the ultimate purpose behind what has been unleashed in Brockton Bay. More than anything else, we just want to clear you of responsibility so that we can move on and find the guilty party."

Pretending to be puzzled, Taylor asked, "And why is that, Miss Militia? So that you can pin a medal upon them? Because I don't see the bad here. Brockton Bay is clean and safe, likely for the first time in the city's history. Tell me, has there been a peep from any of the Parahuman gangs out there since the... I think they're calling it the Conversion. Since the Conversion happened?"

Armsmaster sounded almost bitter as he said, "What happens when the author of this 'Conversion' comes to claim his thirty pieces of silver? Because if the one thing that events involving Parahumans has taught us is that no one does something of this nature for free. They will expect to be compensated, perhaps in money, or more likely, with power over the lives of the people whom we are responsible for protecting. I won't allow those people to be enslaved."

Cynically, Taylor said, "Nice speech. Needs a little work on the self-sacrificing heroic part, though." In a more reasonable tone, she continued, "Regardless, it wasn't me who unleashed nanotechnology into the environment." Which was technically true as it had been JARVIS who had unleashed Garden Spot as well as any subsequent nanobot drops. "If I were you, I wouldn't waste too much sleep over whoever did it. It doesn't appear to a power grab to me."

There was surprise in Armsmaster's voice as he said, "You're telling the truth." That immediately shaded into suspicion as he asked, "Why would you allow me to read your voice that way when your voice modulation could likely disguise it?"

Still continuing on in her reasonable tone of voice, Taylor said, "Because it wouldn't accomplish anything other than to show that my tech is superior to your tech. I mean, it is, but there's no reason to rub your face in it."

In a whisper designed to be heard by an entire room, Assault said, "Sheesh, insult much anyone?"

Armsmaster looked like he agreed based upon the sour pucker of his lips visible beneath his armor's visor. Miss Militia however, waved it off. "Thank you, Iron Man. I appreciate your help and honesty in this matter. Well, it appears to that we'll just have to keep looking."

Taylor hesitated, then said, "Miss Militia, you might want to consider whether or not it's a good idea to catch whoever did this. Because from my own analysis of the nanotechnology involved, I don't see how anyone could take on this person and win."

Armsmaster sounded put out as he challenged, "Can you defeat this plague, Iron Man? Can your technology overcome whoever designed and implemented it?"

Taylor had to pretend to think a moment. The actual truth was that once out there, the nanobots were virtually impossible to defeat unless you had a superior form of nanotechnology to use against them. On the other hand, she had Extremis, the designs for the addictive and highly dangerous nanotechnology right there in her memories to use. Extremis could likely defeat Garden Spot, returning the city to its former glory.

On the other hand, it showed just how perilous she believed Extremis to be that she would prefer something like an Endbringer to the effects of that form of nanotechnology. After all, what was the point in saving humanity from the Endbringers if the end result was that they perished because of something far more insidious.

Aware that she had been quiet for too long, Taylor finally spoke, "Yes, I could defeat this nanotechnology. But to do so, I would need to use a different form of nanotech that is far more dangerous."

"How dangerous?" Miss Militia asked, her eyes steady upon Taylor.

"Dangerous enough that I would rate its usage somewhere just this side of daily attacks by the Endbringers."

"That's absurd!" Armsmaster burst out, appearing to be quite agitated by her words.

Taylor shrugged. "If you believe it, then clearly it must be true. Anyway, good day to you all. Miss Militia. Assault. Armsmaster."

Without waiting for them, Taylor walked back to the door from which she'd emerged, going through and portaling back to her lab. There, she found her dad, Trish, and JARVIS waiting for her. She walked over to her lab table, released her armored mask to expose her face, and sat down. Gesturing for them to sit across from her, Taylor said, "Well, that could have gone better."

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Ethan rode down in the high tech elevator with the other two members of his team, quietly listening as they discussed what needed to be done. He had his own opinions of what had just occurred, but wanted to see what his teammates thought. He didn't have long to wait.

"Do you think he was telling the truth?" Miss Militia asked, her tone apparently reflecting only idle curiosity. They had already previously discussed what could and could not be discussed while still upon the premises of the armored cape, although the cynical part of Assault had already decided that if Iron Man was guilty of the Conversion, what were the odds he could monitor the conversations of anyone, anywhere, and at anytime?

"According to the lie detector that's built into my armor, he was telling the truth for the most part. A few of his earlier statements were ambiguous," Armsmaster replied.

"Would you even be able to tell if Iron man was lying? I mean, I understand that the voice he is using is synthesized, making it nearly impossible for you to be to read inflections in his tones that would allow your lie detector to work properly."

"Ordinarily, you would be right. Today, for whatever reason, Iron Man chose to allow me to do exactly that. As he has twice before, he used only one layer of modulation, disguising only his sex and age, but nothing else. I was able to read his voice to see that he told the truth. He did not disseminate nanotechnology into the environment."

Ethan almost spoke up at that point, but in the end, decided to keep his own council. Because unlike his two teammates, he did not believe for one second that Iron Man was innocent of the crime for which they had questioned him.

It was just too convenient. First, an armored cape appears out of nowhere to help with an Endbringer, perhaps the most dangerous of the three, and runs the Simurgh off single-handedly after somehow targeting her, which could only mean that he'd somehow defeated her precognition, leaving her blind to the now. Even ignoring the suit, the technology that would require was well beyond anything that any known Tinker was experimenting with today.

Then there was the well-established problem with the abilities of Thinkers all over the world. How intermittent their abilities had become. Yet, no one made the connection, or if they had, were keeping quiet about it like Ethan was.

Third, Iron Man turns out to be behind the brightest spot in the entire landscape of Brockton Bay, HTech, which was almost single-handedly responsible for turning around the city's economy. It was his technology that they were releasing world-wide in wholesale lots to both consumers and other technology companies. Out of which, of course, Iron Man was making a fortune.

Fourth, he had somehow found and eliminated the Slaughterhouse Nine as effortlessly as if they were a group of schoolyard bullies hiding behind the cafeteria rather the most dangerous Parahuman group alive, using a new, far more advanced form of armor. Ethan had read Armsmaster's report on that armor. According to his teammate's analysis, Iron Man's new armor was at least two orders of magnitude more powerful than his previous armor and more probably three.

Ethan reflected that while that was mind boggling in and of itself, it was as if no one had read the next conclusion in the report. That next statement had been so very simple and had merely stated, "Based upon the increase in energy production, storage, and dissemination, the technology behind the 'Iron Man' suit has had a four to nine times increase in sophistication."

Somehow, in about two months, Iron Man had managed to design and build a set of armor that was at a minimum four times as sophisticated technologically as his previous suit. Yet, no one commented upon this very telling fact, as if no one could even see it, or if seen, draw any conclusions.

Ethan knew that he had a decent brain, although he was seldom the smartest person in the room these days. Still, it was why he had ultimately seen the light when it came to being a villain. He'd easily envisioned a future of increasing violence coupled with decreasing rewards for that violence, so he had changed his allegiance, joining the Protectorate. Not that Puppy hadn't played a part with that change as well.

Perhaps more than his own intelligence, Ethan looked upon the things he saw with a villain's mindset, as once his cape name had been Madcap, an escape specialist. It allowed him to draw conclusions that others simply did not, even occasionally stumping Thinkers with what he came up with. So when he came to the simple conclusion that Iron Man was behind the Conversion the other night, he'd come along with his teammates hoping to be proven wrong.

However, after the performance he had just seen, there now wasn't the slightest doubt in his mind that Iron Man had unleashed the nanoplague that had so changed the landscape of Brockton Bay. Now he was faced with the decision of whether or not to say anything to his teammates or PRT.

Because, as he had stated in the earlier meeting attended by Director Costa-Brown, Ethan had seen the video. He had to balance the possibility that the Tinker who was so intent upon helping people that he had donated the entire reward for eliminating the Slaughterhouse Nine to charity was a villain, with the almost certainty that should that selfsame person feel threatened, he could just as easily kill the entire local Protectorate team.

If it were just him, he wasn't sure whether he would or wouldn't decide to inform the others about the conclusions he had drawn. But the presence of Puppy in his life made his decision black and white. He would stay silent and live, as would she. In the meantime, whatever project Iron Man, who was fighting in an entirely different weight class than the rest of them, would play out the way it was supposed to.

Clocking out later, Ethan made his way back to his apartment, whistling a jaunty tune. To all intents and purposes he did not have a care in the world. He noted the beautifully restored sidewalks and streets around him with pleasure, and felt the same about his brand new appearing apartment building.

A moment later, he had the front door unlocked and walked inside. He immediately spotted the one person who could still make his heart skip a beat, the same way it had done for years now. With a happiness that living in the now provided him, Ethan exclaimed, "Puppy!"

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Not wanting to let the silence lengthen, Taylor said, "So I guess you heard. Trish, what do you think?"

Trish grinned, but there was something off about it. "You fooled Armsmaster and Miss Militia, but it was mostly because they didn't want to believe that it was you who was behind the Conversion. Assault, on the other hand, is convinced that it was you."

Ahh, so that was it, Taylor decided. She had been certain they would fool all of the members of the Protectorate, but it looked like Assault had somehow figured it out, or was at least suspicious.

"Do you think he's going to say anything?"

Shaking her head, Trish said, "No. Especially not after the video we released showing how easily you took down the Slaughterhouse Nine. As a former villain, Assault has a more flexible morality than most of the Protectorate, plus excellent survival instincts. He won't talk about it unless you do something that makes him believe you to be a villain. Then it's anybody's guess what happens as I can't extrapolate any further with the available facts."

Danny didn't look nearly as composed as he asked, "What happens if they return with the Triumvirate at their side? Are you up to dealing with the three of them and all of their teams as well?"

"Pretty much. The thing is, short of Sleeper himself coming here, there's not a single Parahuman or group of Parahumans that I can't deal with. Plus, I'm this close to some form of dimensional shielding that should be able to cut off a Parahuman from the source of their power without having to destroy part of their brain, something I'd really rather not do if I end up face to face with a hero."

Looking like he had just swallowed a lemon, Danny said, "I'd rather you not lobotomize any heroes either, kiddo. But if you're going to be putting yourself into confrontations with both the PRT and Protectorate, it's eventually going to happen. It worries me. Dad's prerogative."

If she wasn't wearing armor, Taylor would have walked over and hugged him. "Thanks, Dad. JARVIS, your analysis of the meeting?"

The cultured voice of the AI came over the lab's speakers, "Miss, I concur with Miss Trish's conclusions. They simply do not want to believe it is you, so there will be tremendous resistance toward anyone convincing them otherwise. I believe that is why Dragon's conclusions were not given more weight. Of course, truthfully, they can ill afford to alienate you under any circumstances."

Danny perked up. "Why is that, JARVIS?"

"Because, Danny, the items which we have been providing the Protectorate, specifically the Psionic Dampeners, have led to a drop in Parahuman crime nationwide of nearly twenty-five percent. That is only one item. The other items that we are putting out world-wide has led to a perceptible drop in crime everywhere as safe water and other necessities becomes available. After all, with any increase in the standard of living across the board, there is a reduction in crime levels, even among the lower class, the one most prone to seeing crime as a way of escaping poverty. They are less likely to see crime as a better path than other opportunities."

JARVIS sounded more than a little satisfied as he said, "In taking on Miss Hebert, the PRT would be, in essence, killing the goose that laid the golden egg. Equally importantly, she has indicated publicly that she is working on a way to deal with the Endbringers. She has identified herself as a hero beyond the borders of this nation with international renown. It would ill suit the spin-makers of the PRT to allow her to be relabeled as a villain."

Trish walked around the table to stand next to Taylor. She reached up to carefully pat the taller girl's cheek. Grinning, she said, "I wanted to slap you on the back in congratulations, but I value my hands too much. What now, oh mighty leader?"

Taylor frowned. What now indeed. The further things went along, the more dangerous the targets. The next target in her sights was Lung. She said, "It's Lung. JARVIS, go ahead and attempt to eliminate his Corona Pollentia. I don't think it will work based upon what we know about his power, but let's give it a try. Do the same with Oni Lee."

"And Bakuda, Miss?"

"Nanotize her tech. Get everything you can on her methodology and blueprints. I'm especially interested in the theory that Trish has that Bakuda can create stopped time explosives. That might be the key to helping with the victims of Gray Boy, plus it would be yet another method of dealing the Endbringers in the event exiling them into deep space doesn't work."

"Of course, Miss. Should I prepare any contingencies for dealing with Lung?"

She shook her head. "No. We can't be seen as the bad guys here. So when he goes ballistic after being attacked, we should wait until the Protectorate has had the first shot. That way, when we deal with him permanently, they won't be able to argue excessive force."

Danny cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. "I'm still not sure I'm comfortable in what we are doing here. It's a bit too much like murder for me to think we're doing the right thing."

Taylor shook her head. "I get it, Dad. I really do. But after the reports that I've read of exactly what Lung has gotten up to I find the idea of killing him a lot more palatable."

With that reminder, Danny's face became more than a little drawn. Because the idea of just how many girls had been sold into sexual slavery by the ABB under Lung's leadership was utterly sickening. Their fates, one of becoming prostitutes after being broken through the use of drug addiction and gang rape, was one of the worst that awaited any citizen of their country.

That the PRT seemed to turn a blind eye to that behavior infuriated her dad even more than it did Taylor. At least she had the memories of a man who had seen that and far worse during his lifetime to shield her. Danny Hebert, a truly good man, was utterly horrified at what could happen in what he had always believed to be the greatest country in the world.

After a long silence, it was Danny who broke it. "I withdraw my objections, Taylor. I should never have argued against your plan."

"I disagree, Danny."

Taylor started in surprise at hearing JARVIS speak. She was still getting used to the fact that the AI she had released from her control had opinions of his own, and while he did not speak out all that often, when he did it was to make a very good point.

"You speak on behalf of restraint. For the rights of the lawbreaker. Even if the rest of us believe it is a cut and dry case for elimination, you should continue to do so. After all, we must never come to believe without doubts in our own rectitude lest we risk becoming what we fight. So long as you continue to be who you are, it becomes less likely we will lose our way."

Taylor marveled anew at the AI she had built. Because this JARVIS most certainly wasn't the same one that Tony had made back on his own world. No he was-

What had she missed? There had been a look that passed across Trish's face that Taylor couldn't interpret in reaction to JARVIS' words. Making a mental note to go back and talk to her friend about what she'd seen after the meeting, Taylor said, "I agree. Thanks, Dad, for being you and calling it like you see it."

With that, their meeting broke up, each of them going back to their respective offices. Unfortunately, Taylor missed getting a moment alone with Trish. Well, she'd talk to her about it later.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

"Bakuda, it is time."

Bakuda turned at the sound of the deep voice from behind her. Seeing her master there, she bowed low. "What do you require, Lung?"

Lung's cold stare eviscerated her. "Disguise yourself. Bring as many of your explosives as you can fit in a shopping cart. Be prepared to mine the entire downtown of Brockton Bay. We will drive this mysterious Tinker out into the open and I will deal with him."

Almost, she asked how he would manage to ramp himself up, but then caught herself. Lung would do as Lung chose. Currently he was absolutely enraged at the attack upon him. It was up to her to do what was required of her lest that rage fall upon her, especially after Oni Lee's failure. She still bore the marks from the last time she had argued with her master.

Bowing deeply again, she said, "Yes, Lung."

"Do not fail me, Bakuda." With that last warning, Lung turned and stalked away, already growing in size.

Behind him, Bakuda whispered, "I will not fail you, Lung." At least not so long as she wanted to survive.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

"Hey, Taylor, got a second?"

Taylor looked up at the familiar voice. "Sure. I've actually been meaning to talk to you about something."

Trish, who had been standing in the doorway, walked on in and sat on the other side of Taylor's lab table. "No problem, but I want to go first."

Raising a brow, Taylor waited for the other girl to speak. Trish started, "I wanted to say that I really think you should go ahead and take Sarah Pelham up on her offer to hang out with her family and the Dallons."

"We've discussed it, Trish. The risk to the our ultimate plans is too great for me to take a chance on that kind of exposure."

Trish took a deep breath, then released it. "Look, I'm going to be direct here, so please don't get your feelings hurt. When we agreed to eliminate the Slaughterhouse Nine, I was completely on board. Even when we discussed their various weaknesses and how best to exploit them."

Puzzled, Taylor said,"I know. I was there. What's going on?"

Trish looked faintly sad as she said, "Then I saw the video. The way you reacted. How effortlessly, how... efficiently you dealt with them. Afterward, I couldn't read you. Not even my model of you. I don't... I don't know if what you did even affected you. Did you even cry, Taylor, when you killed nine people?"

Automatically, Taylor corrected the other girl, "Eight. JARVIS killed William Manton."

The only reply she got was a raised brow. After a moment, she defended herself, "Look, Trish, I appreciate your concern, but it's misplaced. I cried after I killed them. I did."

There was a measuring look in Trish's eye that said she didn't buy it. Then she slowly shook her head. "Bullshit. You cried because of the people in the town, not because of what you, yourself did. Taylor, you're becoming increasingly disassociated from people, and that is not a good thing. Especially not for you."

An enraged shout explode from within her, "I am not Tony Stark!" .

Taylor stopped, feeling as appalled by her outburst as Trish looked. Where the fuck had that come from? Then she knew. Every time Taylor thought she had a handle on Stark's memories and personality, it would find a new way to creep into her psyche. This was just the latest of his forays into her consciousness.

In a small voice, Taylor said, "I'm sorry."

"I know you are. You're also going to do what I suggested now, aren't you?"

Taylor sighed. "Fine. But you're coming with me."

With a grin that if she were anyone else, Taylor might actually find frightening, Trish agreed, "Of course I am. I wouldn't have it any other way. Now what did you want to talk to me-"

A voice interrupted their impromptu meeting, "Miss Hebert, the incident we planned with Lung is happening. Bakuda of the ABB is currently placing bombs in locations throughout the city. By my calculations, she'll have more than two hundred set up within the next six hours if not stopped."

And so it begins, Taylor thought. Exchanging a quick glance with Trish, she said, "Sorry, Trish, but that's my cue. JARVIS, we'll play this out just as we planned. First the ABB, then Empire 88. You've got the worst case scenario covered with the more than a thousand drones cached throughout the city while I go deal with the ABB, Bakuda, and Lung."

Trish looked like she was about to protest, but then JARVIS spoke, "Don't worry, Miss Trish. I'll also be accompanying Miss Hebert with another fifty drones. She will remain safe at all times."

"Thanks, JARVIS."

Yeah, thanks JARVIS, Taylor thought morosely. While she understood that it was the smart thing to do to go in with overwhelming firepower, accompanied by repair drones and unlimited amounts of nanobots, her memories from Tony insisted upon her dealing with the bad guys solo while reaping all of the glory.

To her memories, though, Taylor thought, shut up. Shut the fuck up, Tony. She wasn't him and he wasn't her. Unlike the billionaire playboy, she was going to win this one no matter what it took, up to and including, using every resource at her disposal. And she'd do it without letting him get his claws into her mind again. Deliberately pasting on a confident smile, Taylor gave Trish one final look before heading over to get armored up and ready to launch.

"JARVIS, has the Protectorate been alerted?"

"Of course, Miss. They were incoming to Bakuda's position in less than five minutes. We'll arrive just after they do."

Seven minutes later found her rocketing through the sky toward the spot where JARVIS had Bakuda's location pinpointed on her HUD. That location was now the center of a free for all as the various capes of the Protectorate battled an already empowered Lung. Fortunately for them, JARVIS had already nerfed all of Bakuda's gear, so she was unable to assist her team member. Landing in a similar manner less than twenty feet away from the bomb-themed Tinker, Taylor glanced at the unassuming figure of a bag lady pushing a shopping cart filled with junk who was currently held in place with cuffs around her wrists and ankles.

Of course, it wasn't Bakuda who had Taylor's attention, rather the man-dragon who now stood over twelve feet tall and was wreathed in white hot flames. She watched as Lung casually parried Armsmaster's halberd, then with a move that blurred, knocked the leader of the local Protectorate spinning through the air. Based upon the fact that Assault was half carrying and half dragging Battery's slim form away, the fight was not going well for the heroes.

From off to one side, there was the sound of an anti-material rifle firing as a round hammered into the Lung's shoulder. He staggered, then with a pop and twist, his bones snapped back into place and his silvery metal scales visibly thickened.

Lung spoke, his words distorted by jaws not designed for human speech, "Kwiill woo ooll!"

In a voice that was echoed by the more than fifty drones accompanying her, Taylor thundered, "Lung, cease and desist! You are under arrest!"

Then she was spinning back into the air, barely dodging the blow that hammered into her shields like a blow from Thor's hammer. Lung, now pushing well past twelve feet tall and surrounded by flames that registered at forty-two hundred Kelvin, had just launched himself like a bullet from a gun at her.

Of course, it would have been a much more effective attack if every single part of the entire city wasn't part of her reconnaissance package. She'd known what Lung was going to do as soon as his body's balance shifted the tiniest bit, changing the pressure on the nanobots under his feet.

Still, there was an audience to be entertained, so kicking in full power, Taylor launched herself headfirst into the ABB leader, meeting him with a thunderous crash that shook the ground.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Bakuda stared in contempt at the blue and silver armored figure who fought her master, his halberd dealing another strike that would have crippled a lesser opponent. It felt wrong somehow to be fighting the local heroes. Despite all of the arguments with the others where they surmised the source of the Conversion must be the Protectorate, most likely in the form of Armsmaster, she had always known who her true foe had to be, Iron Man.

She had spent the last month growing increasingly frustrated as Lung prevent her from dealing with the upstarts at HTech. That so-called technology firm wasn't up to her standards and it irked her so much that they received so much credit for creating items that she could have made if she hadn't been so focused upon her own specialization, bombs.

More than anything, she had wanted to use some creeper bombs to blow the entire facility into the stratosphere. But Lung had told her to wait. He had been surprisingly unbothered by the loss of so many of their rank and file in their attack, quite possibly because the Nazis had lost just as heavily, including one of their capes who was still in PRT custody.

Then had come the self-aggrandizing press conference and that video. Bakuda had watched the deaths of the Slaughterhouse Nine over and over again, obsessively dissecting every single detail, pouring over every single frame of the HD video.

It had been both beautiful and frightening. She had loved the ruthlessness displayed by the other Tinker, but had been incredibly disappointed when he both donated the reward money and used the occasion to flog his company's generosity to the US government. But it had established Iron Man as a player in her mind, even if he wasn't quite ruthless enough for her tastes.

Of course, when Bakuda had tried to tell Lung about her ideas and opinions about Iron Man, he hadn't responded well. It had nearly cost her life to not immediately bow to his will, but when it was something she believed in so vehemently, it was hard to speak lies. She had slunk away to lick her wounds in private, knowing that she would have her chance at the armored Tinker.

Lung should have listened to her, she thought spitefully. The so-called Conversion had occurred just a week ago and it had changed the playing field utterly. Their stashes of drugs had disappeared as if by magic. Then they had been unable to properly discipline their whores and other dependents once those cowards had realized that violent confrontations were no longer possible between individuals. That they were protected as the city itself rose to their defense.

It had the ABB teetering on the edge of collapse, only held together by the sheer force of Lung's power and personality. The cape who had confronted Leviathan in Kyushu and finally sent the Endbringer into retreat had refused to allow his people to scatter, so they hadn't.

The event had similarly affected Empire 88 and had sent the fading remnants of the Merchants into full retreat. Other smaller gangs had simply disappeared, most leaving Brockton Bay for greener pastures elsewhere. On the other hand, those pathetic mercenaries, Faultine's Crew, seemed to be taking things in stride and had retreated to their club to weather the storm.

Then Lung had decided it was time to find and deal with whoever was trying to drive them from their city. He had come up a plan, which while not brilliant, was perfectly serviceable to draw out the architect of the Conversion. Once visible, Lung would kill him.

So Bakuda had built her bombs, dozens upon dozens of bombs, with so many myriad effects that she almost couldn't remember them all. But only almost. No, she was ready when Lung called earlier than expected after the attack on them that had hurt him and cost them Oni Lee.

Of course, it hadn't been Iron Man who confronted them, but rather, the Protectorate. Bakuda knew that Lung took this as confirmation that it was Armsmaster or another hero behind the Conversion, but she knew better. Iron Man was tricking her master. But he would be here soon enough, of that she had no doubt.

For now, though, they had to deal with the Protectorate fools. Lung was already strong and tossing his foes around like children's toys. Bakuda would do the same, just as she had been directed. Highlighting one of her bombs on her HUD, she pressed her toe rings together with almost a feeling of orgasm filling her as she projected what it would do to this city and its inhabitants.

Unfortunately, to Bakuda's stunned disbelief, nothing happened. Frantically, she checked another bomb, then another. "What the fuck is going on?" she screamed, feeling like she was about to go insane.

That was when her costume seemed to fly apart, along with all of the completed bombs on her cart. To her Tinker sense, it was as if everything that made complete sense descended into utter chaos. With a sense of growing dread, Bakuda realized that all of her tools and devices had been infested by the nanomachines despite all of her precautions. Even now, they were forming her bombs and other gear into different shapes.

As hand and leg cuffs formed around her extremities, Bakuda realized that no matter the outcome with Lung, she had lost. He would kill her for this failure, she knew. She shivered in dread as a silver and white blur was hammered into a wall not that far from her, collapsing to lie still, as a cry of dismay rang out. Soon, he would get to her as well, Bakuda realized. Soon she would die.

A moment later, Iron Man landed and shouted out his ultimatum. With the Protectorate forces routed, fleeing for their lives, Lung just laughed. He wasn't in the least afraid of the armored cape. With a sense of both hope and dispair, Bakuda couldn't help remembering the way Iron Man had so ruthlessly dealt with the Slaughterhouse Nine.

She shrieked as her restraints began pulling her away from the fight toward where the heroes were regrouping. Her struggles were useless as a force more than human pulled her along. Then everything become immaterial as Lung savagely attacked, only to be met in midair by Iron Man.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

"He's actually a lot faster than our analysis indicated," Taylor commented as she dodged yet another attack by the steadily growing Parahuman. So far, other than that first exchange, she hadn't attacked back, as it would have been far too easy to simply eliminate Lung despite all of his strength and savagery. The problem was the after effects would likely kill Bakuda as well as many of the nearby watching heroes.

So instead, she played dodge the dragon, while occasionally dealing him savage blows using just the physical capabilities of her armor. Not that it was easy, as Lung was almost as fast as she was, despite all of the nanobots speeding her reflexes. And he was still continuing to grow in size, power, and speed.

Using the abilities of her drones, Taylor projected her voice so that it once more sounded as loud as thunder, "Lung! Stand down! Do not force me to kill you!"

Lung's response was to send a blast of beyond white hot heat Taylor's way. Using the energy absorption abilities that were part of her armor's new power systems, she channeled the vast majority of that heat into stored energy for her particle cannons. The remainder was harmlessly dissipated by the various nanobots surrounding them.

Deliberately, she interposed the forcefields of two different drones between her and Lung, watching as he hammered away in temporary futility at the transparent barrier. A moment later, as Lung grew another foot, wings beginning to extrude from his back, he burst through, only to hit another set.

″Let's let him go, JARVIS. He's mad enough now to be careless. Just be ready in case I screw up.″

With that, the forcefields collapsed as if overpowered and Lung sprang free. His leap upward would have done the Hulk proud and it was only by doing a swimmer's turn and unleashing the full power of her boot jets that Taylor was able to send him crashing to the ground empty-handed.

It was time to end this, she decided. Taylor came in fast and landed just feet away from Lung. Ducking and spinning to dodge a murderous kick from a huge, clawed foot, she launched herself skyward, fists forward, right into Lung's chin. Despite the flexibility of the man-dragon's long, sinuous neck, the bones of his spine snapped under the impact, sending him to the ground.

As the Parahuman villain collapsed, temporarily paralyzed, Taylor tamped down on any mercy she might have felt, remembering the reports JARVIS had compiled on how the ABB forcibly recruited young women and turned them into prostitutes through the use of gang rape and drug addiction. It was a modus operandi that Lung had never seen fit to change since becoming the head of the ABB. It was also likely the least of Lung's crimes, she thought.

"Miss, the Protectorate and Bakuda are now more than fifty meters away."

Taylor translated that to minimum safe distance for her next attack. Aloud, she said, "Thanks, JARVIS."

Spinning up what could only be described as a self-contained particle accelerator, Taylor formed a two foot long blade of pure energy, equivalent to the continuous full output of one of her particle cannons and stabbed it directly into the back of the monstrous Parahuman's head, destroying his brain. Then she eviscerated his torso, severing his healing spine and then turning his heart, and most of the contents of his chest cavity, into plasma, which blasted outward in a wave of light and heat. A moment later, what was left of Lung's body began to shrink as the motivating force behind it disappeared.

Immediately killing the Plasma Blade, Taylor stood waiting as Lung's death throes stilled. Then she turned toward the Protectorate and Bakuda. Walking over to her, Taylor said, "I'll be leaving you for the Protectorate. Maybe they can find a use for you that will keep you out of the Birdcage. Then again, maybe not."

The woman, her features a combination of rage and terror, shouted, "Iron Man! I can help you become the ruler of this pitiful dirtball. With the help of my bombs, you can become the most powerful cape in the world!"

Taylor just shook her head. JARVIS had already analyzed all of the mad Tinker's bombs and had their schematics waiting for her back at her lab. Aloud she said, "Sorry, Bakuda, but that's not going to happen."

Taylor refused to feel a sense of satisfaction as a gag grew over the raging Tinker's mouth. Turning toward the scattered Protectorate heroes, she asked, "Is there anyone who requires medical attention?"

To one side, Assault waved and gestured at the slim figure dressed all in white he was supporting. "Here, Iron Man."

"I'm on it."

Six of her drones subsequently interlinked to form a Portable Doc just a few feet away from the two of them, while Taylor walked on over. Less than a minute later, the machine was ready to go. Taylor said, "Place her on the examination platform and step back just a bit."

Assault silently did as directed, although the steely look he sent Taylor's way made her aware that Trish was probably right about her analysis of him. The machine began working, using a mixture of techniques to reduce the swelling in Battery's brain as well as dealing with her various cuts and abrasions.

Five minutes later, Battery was sitting up looking groggy. She groaned, "What hit me? A bus?"

Assault appeared utterly self-possessed as he leaned against the table next to her. He teased, "No, Puppy, it was only a taxi used like a Louisville slugger by Lung. I can't believe you let him hit you and scared me like that. It totally spoiled my own attack on him which was going to be using a bus! Now I'll forever be known as a copy cat!"

Battery rolled her eyes. "Yes, because what happened was completely under my control."

Miss Militia walked up, supporting the limping figure of Armsmaster, while Triumph took up the rear. Idly, Taylor commented, "I'm surprised that Dauntless and Velocity aren't here."

Miss Militia shrugged, "They were off duty, Iron Man, and couldn't get here in time. We do have civilian lives, you know." With a glance a the figure who was still leaning on her, she quietly muttered, "Well, most of us do."

The group got Armsmaster onto the table and even Taylor was impressed by the extent of his injuries. However, other than a bit of minor surgery, he didn't need to be opened up, the nanobots inside of his body doing their jobs. It did take more than five minutes before he was back on his feet, though, time that she spent in idle chatter with Miss Militia.

It was weird, but it was the first time that Taylor felt any awareness of the other woman's attractiveness. Tamping down hard on that part of her personality, she instead focused on Miss Militia's opinion regarding what had happened to Lung.

″Is there going to be a problem with how I dealt with Lung?″

With a distasteful glance at the steaming remains of the Parahuman villain, Miss Militia shook her head. ″I don't think so. I'll attest that there was imminent danger to lives and that you had no choice. However, Iron Man, this needs to be extent of your body count. Short of storming Ellisburg and dealing with Nilbog, there needs to be no more fatalities attributed to you. Am I making myself clear?″

″Of course, Miss Militia. The last thing I want is more deaths.″

The flag-themed cape wearily nodded. ″Be that as it may. Your donation of the reward for executing the kill orders on the Slaughterhouse Nine bought you a lot of good will with the PRT. Don't use it all up in one sitting.″

Around them, men appeared, all wearing the uniforms and protective gear of the PRT. They began cataloging the damage, as well as taking Bakuda into custody, first spraying her with containment foam up to her jawline. It amused Taylor to think that now they had to wait until they neutralized the foam before they could further restrain her and carry her off.

Miss Militia seemed to follow her line of vision and shrugged, ″Standard procedure when dealing with any Parahuman. Cover them with containment foam.″

The woman gave a few orders to the troops around them, then turned to Taylor. ″Iron Man, what would it take to get you to sell Iron Legionnaire suits to the PRT?″

In a carefully neutral tone, Taylor asked, ″Why would you need them? If the legitimate authorities can deal with Parahumans, I don't see any reason you would require that much firepower.″

Miss Militia matched her neutrality as she said, ″Iron Man, we are the legitimate authorities. If not us, who else? You're effectively denying us tools that would not only help us do our jobs, but prevent injuries and deaths to good men and women. I understand that you have an issue with the PRT and the Protectorate, perhaps Parahumans in general, but you shouldn't punish the rank and file who are out there risking their lives everyday because of your own personal feelings.″

Almost, Tony escaped out into the wild as a hundred angry replies thundered through Taylor's mind. In the end, none of them made it past her lips. She was Taylor Hebert. Not Tony Stark. Not some bastard amalgamation of the two of them. She was the master of her own destiny.

It was Taylor Hebert who saw no point in stressing the relationship with the local branch of the Protectorate by arguing for a policy that her entire team had come up with. So instead, she merely said, ″Miss Militia, thanks for talking to me about this. I'll give it careful consideration and get back to with you with an answer. And just for the record, I've never had a problem with you or how you do your job.″

From behind the, a weak voice muttered, ″Truth.″ Around them there were dozens of relieved chuckles as the men and women, both those in uniform and in costume, relieved the stress of the last few hours with a little humor.

Taylor joined in as well, allowing the amusement she felt to help cleanse her mind and spirit of the grim task she had just finished. Now the only major players left in Brockton Bay were Empire 88. Once they were gone, all she had to do was keep the city clear of major gangs, and it would help clear the way for more of her projects, furthering her agenda to save the world.

As she continued to silently snort far after the matter should have lost whatever amusement it should have held, Taylor realized that she actually felt a lot better. Far better than after dealing with the Slaughterhouse Nine. It just goes to show, she thought, that sometimes, humor healed more than tears.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

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