Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Beginning

There is more light inside our hearts than all the stars that we can see.
If you ever feel alone.
If you ever need me.
Just close your eyes and look inside.
I'll be there.
I promise.

For it was the smell... It was the smell that got to her more than anything. The cramped, choking space; the blackened, used tampons; the horrifying wetness of rotten blood; the chittering, skittering bugs crawling in her hair, down her neck, inside her clothes… It… it all failed to reach her as deeply as the over powering stench; a deep twisted rot that burned her nose and seared her brain like the bile still dripping from her lips.

Taylor had long given up screaming for help. The air she so desperately needed to make noise had quickly filled her lungs with putrid fumes. She had no room, couldn’t even turn to beat at the door. The only sound was the dull thuds when her sore, abused elbows clipped the door when she twitched, struggling not to begin thrashing again.

Now she just stood there, slumped and shivering against the wall amidst the rot, the blood, the insects and the stench… All twisting inside her head. She was damaged. Broken. Inside as well as out. Not that this was a new thing for her. Taylor had long slid into this monotone life; doing nothing but surviving one day to the next, one torment to the next. The locker was just the red, ripe cherry on top.

Sophia, Emma, Madison… They had really outdone themselves and turned insults, pranks and casual abuse into… this. A waking nightmare. Taylor was just unlucky enough to be a part of their stroke of originality for the year. Not that there was ever any doubt that this locker would be saved for anyone else.

Things... slid and slithered around her, beneath her, as Taylor began to crumple to the mush filled bottom.

She, Taylor Hebert, was going to die here. She would die all alone, trapped in the darkness. She would leave her father all alone, waiting for her to come home to a pasta dish that would go cold. That… that thought upset her. Leaving her father all alone like when her mother died… She, she couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t leave him too. She was all he had now. So she struggled… She struggled back up, feet slipping amidst the waste.

"Fuck you." She hissed. She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t let them win.

Her leg jerked and rammed her heel into the metal door. Pain blossomed in her foot up and her leg but she gritted her teeth and viciously pushed it aside, bracing one foot against the door and the other on the wall in front of her.

"Fuck you!" She screamed. They wouldn’t win! She would never let them win!

Taylor raised her hands and placed them on the wall despite the filth and bleeding knuckles. Then she pushed. She shoved off the back of the locker, hands and feet buried in trash whilst her limbs strained. The door creaked but wouldn’t yield. She felt better though; she wasn't just going to wilt and die. Not now. Not ever! She would either escape on her own or, if she must, she’d die free atop the remains of her prison, the door broken beneath her. Either one was just as important to her now; to reach her father or show him she’d died trying.

Pads and tampons slopped around her and her shoes squished amidst unspeakable things. Taylor ignored it all. What did the condition of her prison matter? She would be free! She would escape this prison, this darkness. She would get out and find her father and tell him she loved him with all her heart. And then…

Then she would find Sophia, the one who had dared trap her here and rip that smirk off her face! She would find Madison, and make her innocent smile fall, make her weep as Taylor had wept! She would find Emma and put her fist where that traitor’s heart used to be!

Another cry came from her lips; but now it was a war cry instead of terrified screaming.

Taylor wanted freedom. Her back hit the metal again then her vision swam.

Things… Beings she could not describe. Twisting, shifting crystals that drifted into and out of each other. A tesseract brought to life, fragments combining to make a whole. Impossibly large, they flew through the ocean between the stars. A pair. Two. Together. Always together, until the end of time itself.

"QUERY?"

"OBJECTIVE."

"DESTINATION?"

"TRAJECTORY."

"AGRE-"


Then Taylor fell. The black ocean rushing past amidst a thousand specks of light. The creatures faltered, tried realign themselves but Taylor lost sight of them, falling away into the abyss. Something pulled at her from below, as if she had been weightless but now felt gravity. She fell from the ocean of stars and crashed into the sea.






She fell for so long and so quickly.




Then…




Then… Her feet touch something solid. She looked around, water swirling about her and yet she could breathe… She couldn’t see. Darkness surrounded her. Shaking she took a step forward. As soon as her foot touched the ground the darkness exploded, peeling into white doves that flew away and above her, carrying the water with them. As they fled, the birds revealed a circular platform, stained glass now beneath her feet. Standing on the brilliant glass Taylor Hebert looked down at her own sleeping face as she cradled herself around her mother’s flute.

A voice came from everywhere; both outside and inside her own head.

"Don't be afraid. Time is so very short… but take your time. You don't understand this yet but you are the key."

In the isolated hallway lined with lockers the darkness was disturbed as a single locker glowed with a brilliant white light. With a screech of metal a giant key head pierced through the door.

Chapter Text

Taylor's sleeping face was pinched with distress, rendered so lifelike on the platform below her she could almost see the picture breathing. Whoever created it had amazing talent. Still, the idea that someone had done this with her image was also more than a little creepy.

Taking another step created a clear sound, almost like a flute note, which vanished into the abyss surrounding the glass pillar. The sound didn't fade though, didn’t diminish. No, it went so far and just stopped, as if passing beyond the edge of the world. Looking about her Taylor thought that might even be true; because as hard as she tried, she couldn't see anything else in the dark. Nothing.

That’s when that voice came back, as calm and encouraging as before. Taylor whipped her head around, hair flying about her as she looked for the speaker, but no one was visible. No one appeared.

"There is power within you." It said softy, echoing both around and inside her. Taylor shivered at the absolute certainty in their voice. It seemed so far away she couldn’t make out any details but so close it was inside her head. Who the hell was this? Was a cape messing with her?

"Hello?" She said into the abyss. Some part of her wished no one would reply. This entire thing was already surreal.

"If you give that power form, it will protect you." The voice hinted. Taylor swallowed. She opened her mouth to start being a bit more demanding with her questions when suddenly the platform shook.

Taylor fell to the surface with a grunt. Somehow, without any glass breaking, three pedestals arose from the platform. When the shaking ceased Taylor looked around with wide eyes.

The new objects, plinths really, appeared to be made of white marble… or something just as smooth. With a grunt Taylor pushed herself to her feet and slowly turned to stare, for each plinth held a glowing item, a weapon, on its surface.

A sword, a shield and a staff; all floating gently without means of support.

"What path will you take? All paths lead forward. Don't be afraid." The voice carried out to her again. Taylor nodded and then feeling foolish for nodding to a vague, disembodied voice, walked over to the sword. The blade was slowly turning in the air. Reaching out she grasped the blue grip.

She pulled it out of its spotlight and examined it. The yellow guard was embroidered with a red circle with three small black circles within. One black circle was large and two of the smaller circles sat atop. The double edged blade was soft white on one side and grey on the other. No matter which way she pointed the sword, the shades of light never changed, as if the light came from with the weapon itself. As she held it in her hand properly the voice whispered to her once more.

"The power of the warrior. Great power and courage. Terrible destruction and burden." It said quietly. Taylor quickly dropped the sword back in to the light. It fell a little before it floated back into place. Taylor wiped her hands on her jeans. Which now that she looked closer were miraculously clean, none of the… filth… had come with her. All her clothes were clean, but she still felt dirty. Violated. Shivering she hugged herself.

Returning to the present Taylor recalled the voices words. Terrible destruction? She wanted to be a Hero. The truly heroic kind, like Alexandria. Causing destruction wasn't how Taylor imagined going about it. Though… it may have its place.

"Are you there? Please let me go. I need to get home." Taylor pleaded aloud, hoping the voice would answer. Nothing stirred. Taylor felt panic flood her. Was it just her imagination or was the darkness a bit closer? Taylor took a deep breath and thought.

Maybe it was an automated voice? Maybe this was a Tinkers lair? Inside her locker. Why not? She had no other rational explanation. If she held on to the idea that this wasn't really… real… then she could handle it. For a little longer.

Walking quickly over to another pedestal she looked at the second item. A black shield turned slowly. Once again the three circle symbol was branded on to front in red. A pattern or logo she mused. She reached out grasped the handle.

"The path of the guardian. The shield to protect all. The power to push away all." Taylor frowned as she released her grip. Less alarming but whilst the ability to protect people would be welcome... if it meant pushing everyone else away then would it be worth it? This wasn’t a path that promised happiness in the end.

One left.

Bracing herself, Taylor walked across the glass likeness of her face, which was still extremely weird to her. Taylor examined the last weapon. A staff with the three circle symbol as a blue head piece. It was more three dimensional than the other two. Looking at it she saw it resembled a head now. A mouse? Shrugging to herself she grasped the handle.

"The power of the mystic. A staff of wonder. A staff of ruin." Taylor gulped and gently let go of the death stick. She turned in a full circle to see if anything had changed. Nothing. The voice was as absent as when it first appeared. What did it say before?

Taylor looked straight up at the blinding light that illuminated the platform.

That she had to choose? Choose a path?

 What path would she take?

Chapter Text

Future wise, she might regret this, but Taylor gingerly wrapped her fingers around the staff again. Of all the paths she could take… this one felt right. Waiting for anything, something to happen stretched on for more than a few minutes, letting go of the staff, she started to think. It was becoming boring, impossible to keep still. A quick jog around the edge showed no hidden hatch or ladder to descend downwards. Taylor was feeling extremely lost in this space but not enough to throw herself into the abyss. No point in making Sophia and Emma's job any easier.

She paused to examine staff, hoping it might have a clue. The warm, green wood fit her hand like it had been made for her. Finding nothing she looked it over again. The mouse head wasn't metal or glass. Some odd crystal she felt as her fingers trailed over it.

"Is this the path you choose?" The voice's... well, voice lilted down around her. Taylor bit her lip as she examined the other two pedestals. The voice said these weapons would grant her power. Perhaps they were extremely advanced Tinker tech and Taylor was being scoped out for a minion opening? They didn't look like they were technologically advance, super science weapons but then, what did she know about Tinker-tech?

The sword was an obvious weapon but that was the problem. It was a weapon. Swords were deadly, designed to do nothing but kill. In her limited knowledge of the cape scene Taylor knew of only two major heroes who wielded swords, Chevalier and Mouse Protector. For Chevalier a sword fit with the knight persona he had crafted over his career as a hero. For Mouse Protector it was the weapon of hero straight out of a cartoon, a symbol. However, both of them had crafted themselves around the sword and let it define them to an extent. Taylor… she didn’t want that. And while there were probably other heroes who used a sword Taylor had never heard of them. Not that she was an expert on the Cape scene though.

Outside the leader of Philadelphia branch and Mouse Protector, bladed weapons, especially knives or daggers were publicly considered ‘villainous’ and online forums had often declared non-villains using swords as ‘edgy’. Taylor wasn't sure if the pun was an inside joke but she could see the point.

The PRT barely cleared non-lethal arrows on the grounds that for most people, Taylor included, they conjured images of Robin Hood, a hero for the common folk. It was only after delving too deeply on the subject in school one time during Mr. Gladly's World Issues class that the subject of Capes appearance in the media that someone had mentioned how Shadow Stalker had spoiled the milk in that area somewhat by being caught with lethal arrows just before her induction to the Wards.

That kid, Mark, had been torn apart by Sophia in a rather brutal retort. Sophia had gone on about how Capes had to choose in a matter of seconds to defend or attack. How Shadow Stalker fought Villains and criminals before even having a team. How sometimes Capes had to take measures to make sure the people they fought were put down for the reminder of the fight before they could call for back up or use lethal force on the Cape. Not every hero was a Brute after all.

Even Emma turned to look at her as she finished. Everyone was surprised at the sudden passion. Sophia didn't give anything else to the class that day but, even though she hated it, Taylor did agreed with her some what. Sometimes you did have to end things quickly before it got worse…

If only bullying were as simple.

Bringing herself back to non-reality Taylor once again dismissed the sword. The shield has a very different but similar problem.

The shield would be great for PR. It was all about defending, helping or covering. The problem was her own preference. Taylor didn't want to just stand there and hide behind a shield. She didn't think that Capes whose powers revolved around doing something similar were any less powerful. Compared to her, Taylor the victim, the bullied loser… Capes like Shielder, Bulwark, or even Techton, they were light years ahead of her in value.

But Taylor dreamed. She dreamed of flying with her fist in front of her. Lifting trains back onto solid tracks, helping people wherever she went, and halting crime with her powerful presence alone. Every little girl wanted to be Alexandria or Dragon, every boy wanted to be Hero or Eidolon, no one really wanted to be Narwhal… She fought in the nude.

Which left Taylor with the staff. It was a neutral ground in her eyes. A club, while capable of inflicting just as much damage as a sword with the right force, it was seen as more friendly. It was something heroic but strong, reminding her of Myrddin. The Wizard cape may be crazy, but he was also popular and fun, brining magic to life. More, he used a staff, similar to the one she now held. It… Well, it was a start. It didn’t hurt that Taylor could still whack people with it too.

Wonder and ruin. Well, Taylor decided her life was already in ruins so why not add some wonder?

Trying to see if she could choose both the staff and the shield proved useless as the staff refused to stay in her grasp after a short period of time.

Taylor took a deep breath to steady her nerves and spoke upwards.

"I choose...this?" She finished with high, questioning tone. No cracks of lightning came at her so she breathed out a sigh which caught in her throat when the voice spoke almost in her ear.

"What will you give up for this power? All power has its price." The voice said somewhat sadly. Taylor blinked and looked up.

"What do you mean? I don't have anything to give." She said a bit frantic, her pockets were empty as was the rest of the platform. The only thing she had to give worth anything were her organs or limbs. They didn’t mean the phrase an arm and a leg literally did they? She was rather attached to her arms and her organs were staying right where they were thank you.

Maybe… maybe they meant one of the other weapons?

Taylor frowned at their distant spinning forms. Did the voice want her to give up something that wasn't hers?

It didn't really make sense unless the game master was going to sacrifice the power source of one weapon to power the other? If that was what this was at all. Taylor didn't want to be crazy. But… Was she imagining things while she was dying trapped and alone; this limbo being her way of escaping that harsh reality? But nothing made sense. Why wasn't this making sense if she was causing this?

Taylor's last moments should be happy ones, at least in her head god-damn-it. Laughing with her dad, Emma free from whatever demon that had twisted her beside Taylor and grinning at her, her mom on the couch reading a book to her with a soft smile.

Not this.

Not this dark empty place.

Not alone.

Walking over she barely noticed the staff staying in her hand, freed from whatever held it before. Taylor grasped the sword and with effort she said,

"This. I don't want this." Taylor wasn't brave; she was a frightened little girl who got stuffed in a locker. She had no friends, no hopes, and no dreams. She didn’t even have the courage to face each day at Winslow, let alone wield a weapon of courage. Just a need to survive and get out, to be free and safe.

To no longer be alone.

As she released it, the sword vanished in a shower of golden sparks. Taylor leaped back in surprised, jolted out of her gloom. The pedestals shook rapidly, all three of them and the then they capsized and the platform with her sleeping face cracked and splintered.

With a scream Taylor fell. The staff glowing ever softly in her hands.

Chapter Text

 She fell again.

Taylor stopped screaming when something gently pushed at her back. Startled, she snapped her eyes open. The solid object was the ground and she was on another platform.

Looking up she didn't see any remnants of the platform she’d been on, no crumbling plateau or splintered glass, but this only confused her more. Taylor knew she fell. The glass floor exploding and grazing her face with shards. The panic as the glass barely missed her eyes.

But here she was again. Not a hair out-of-place to show for it. The only consolation was that in Taylor's hand was the staff… She really needed something better to call it. Wonder-staff? It would do for now. The wonder-staff felt solid and real in a way that was hard to describe. It was comfort to her in this twisted tinker’s game… or weird out-of-body experience.

Still, Taylor knew that herself and maybe, just maybe, the staff were real. That even if this was all in her head, a fever dream, that it was still real, even if only in her heart.

Still, this was getting weird. Taylor glanced around nervously. She was all alone here, as alone as she was in life now, her heart closed off from the world. She could only hope that she managed to get out before she started talking to the staff. Or worse, it started talking to her.

Shaking her head, Taylor pulled her thoughts back into focus. Staring down she realized this was obviously a new platform and that she really had fallen. Taylor couldn't resist the small grin that the image pulled from her. Alexandria, Eidolon and Legend’s faces stared up at her. The Triumvirate, the three greatest and most famous heroes in the world bar Scion. Each member was a master in their class, defining them really.

Alexandria, invulnerable and strong, the flying brick, the Brute.

Legend, the hero of light and lasers, leader of the Protectorate and the bringer of hope, the Blaster.

Eidolon, the man who could have any three powers, the ultimate answer to any problem, the Trump.

All their eyes bore into her. The life-like quality of the glass made it somewhat unnerving, Taylor could have sworn Alexandria's eye moved just a little. More, their gaze held a certain weight, like somehow they were judging her and… she was found wanting.


Still, despite their disapproval, Taylor would rather be on this platform than her own one. Because even if she wasn’t good enough yet, she knew that somehow, someday… she would be.

"Be careful! There will be times where you have to fight. Even here, there is darkness." Her guide's voice suddenly called out, causing Taylor to snap to attention.

What did they mean by 'darkness'? Taylor frowned, looking upwards to where she thought voice was coming from. Then, in the corner of her eye she saw movement, another being visible here with her in this abyss for the first time since she came here.

Turning to face it, Taylor saw a flat shadow first moving over Alexandria's face and then curving towards her. Two beady yellow eyes was all the detail she could make out. Then Taylor’s mouth dropped open as the shadow pulled itself into the third dimension.

It was... kind of cute really. It reminded Taylor somewhat of an ant. Its whole body was black except its eyes which were dim yellow. Besides the claws on each arm, which Taylor was a little wary of, the only other features it had where two squished antenna poking from its forehead. As she watched, the shadow bobbed its head, the antennas twitching along with the rest of its body.

It was still pinging Taylor's cute radar when it lunged from half way across the platform. Thankfully it was slow in the air and Taylor quickly moved out the way of its flailing claws with a squeak. It landed with a tumble and then skittered after her.

Taylor in a panic swiped at it with the staff. The creature didn't seem to see it coming or just didn't care. A solid thump rang out as she hit the shadow and it flew back then off the edge of the platform. Taylor took a quick few steps away and waited for it to come back.

Gulping Taylor came to a terrible realization.

That thing had just tried to kill her.

Taylor breathed in slowly, trying not to panic but her palms were sweaty and her heart was hammering against her ribs. She was scared but… A faint voice, like a half remembered memory, telling her Mother she’d be a hero one day.

A hero wouldn't have sweaty palms. A hero would chase after the shadow and stop it or make a quip to let people know everything would be okay.

But… Taylor wasn't a hero. She was just a girl with a stick.

"Behind you!" The voiced yelled out a warning and Taylor whirled in time to see the shadow twist into 3D and leap at her.

With barely enough time to raise the wonder-staff up in a guard, Taylor blocked the shadows claws from hitting her full on.

The shadow practically landed on her though and the sudden extra weight sent Taylor tumbling onto her back with the shadow on top. Its eyes were glowing now, leering into her face. Its claws brushed her skin, trying to slice her to the bone whilst she struggled to push it off. Where its claws had brushed her though left her skin a feeling a terribly cold, as cold as she’d felt the day her mother died.

Being this close to the shadow, feeling that terrible cold and the memories it dredged up… Taylor panicked, yelling at the shadow, screaming out her fear, pain… and determination. There was a smell emitting from it and made her nose itch terribly, a cloying stench like rotten blood. That… that was just like...

With a surge of energy born of disgust Taylor managed to get her feet under the shadow. She kicked out and sent it flying away from her. Breathing heavily Taylor stood and gripped the staff with both hands and charged at the shadow.

This shadow had no right to mess with her. How dare it turn memories of her mother on her? How dare it bring that terrible smell and horror of the locker in here? How dare it while her heroes watched from below?

It was bad enough she was hearing voices, trapped in limbo and wielding a mouse shaped weapon. Taylor was not adding 'getting killed by adorable shadow' to her bad day list because…

She would never let it win. Never again.

With a battle cry that she promised to never make again, Taylor swung wonder-staff and, with wide eyes, watched the struggling shadow vanish in an implosion of darkness.

Taylor’s hands shook as she slowly lowered the staff. She had won.

"Don't drop your guard. The darkness is always just behind you." The words echoed to her from above. Steeling herself Taylor turned.

Three patches of darkness spread across the platform. It engulfed Eidolon's face first then Alexandria's and finally Legend. Taylor saw her problem soon enough when she tried to keep walking backwards. Her foot felt empty air and she was forced to stop.

The darkness surged forward towards her.

"Please help me!" Taylor screamed to the heavens. The voice didn't respond. The light never stopped the darkness.

The shadows passed under her and for a second Taylor thought she might have overreacted. Then her feet suddenly sank down, going from room temperature to bone chilling cold.

Taylor flailed as the darkness swallowed her, striking at it with the wonder-staff. She couldn’t fight it though and Taylor screamed as it pulled her under, the darkness rushing over her head. Taylor's eyes suddenly felt raw and cold, closing them out of instinct she continued to try and bat the darkness away, tried to swim out but suddenly her arms weren't held down and heat returned to her.

Shaking she curled up into a ball. The staff clenched tightly to her chest. Taking several deep breaths and a moment to calm herself, to reassure herself of safety, Taylor opened her eyes.

Another platform.

Taylor choked out a small sob. The image of the platform with her on it flashed in her mind. Taylor, curled around her mother’s flute. Scared and weak.

Rubbing her nose she sat up. She was better than that. She had survived Emma, Sophia, and Madison. She had survived the shadow and the darkness. She was going to survive this place and return home to her dad. She would tell him she loved him and he’d make her tea and she’d be happy again.

The mental pep talk made her feel better.

This platform was much harder for her to look at. Her father's sleeping form, hands clasped upon his chest. He was frowning, troubled even in sleep while stress made lines appear far too early on his face. A state of eternal worry.

"Dad..." Taylor walked over and fell to her knees next to his face, reaching out a hand to rest against his cheek upon the cool glass.

"I'll get out of here and I'll come home soon. Just wait for me." Taylor reassured the image.

"The time is so far off and yet so near. The time when you will open the way. But don't worry. Take your time."

Taylor gritted her teeth at the intrusion on her faux private moment.

"What do you want? Tell me! I'm tired of these stupid games! I just want to go home, please." Taylor finished half angry, half pleading.

Silence, it stretched on for a few seconds. Then there was a flash of light and Taylor was forced to look away. When she’d blinked the spots from her eyes there was a door before her. A round frame that curved upwards until the two sides met in a point. The soft red wood wood of the door was inlaid with streaks of gold, forming leaves and vines, roses printed into the wood. More, it had two steel handles, each projecting from a side of the split door. The whole thing seemed to glimmer in the overhead light.

Taylor felt her insides buzz. It wasn't just her either. The abyss around her seemed to... move. Creep closer.

Taylor's eyes snapped back to the door, away from the encroaching darkness. It was beautiful… and terrifying.

Taylor's hand moved on its own. She had to open it. She had to open this door, nothing else mattered, not her, not her dad, not getting home or anything. Just the door.

Taylor dropped the wonder staff and it clattered to the ground.

Her heart. It was hammering in her chest, ramming against her ribs so hard it hurt. Her fingers clasped the handles and pulled.

The door opened silently. She couldn't breathe, no matter how much she tried. Instead, her lungs were filled with light, the insubstantial becoming smoke inside her lungs. As the door opened further and she began to look inside… It was the most beautiful thing Taylor had ever seen.

Light, air and music… it was warmth and summer, the smell of salt and fresh mown grass, friendships past and new, her mother’s smile and father’s love.

Taylor felt tears slide down her cheeks. She felt like both crying and laughing, she didn’t know which and she couldn’t explain why. It didn't matter anymore. Taylor cast everything in her mind aside and walked through the door. It was so warm. It was so gentle. It was just like mom.

"It's too soon to open the door. You aren't ready yet. Don't worry, the time is so far off but yet so near."

Taylor resisted when something pulled her back but she felt powerless and couldn't struggle. With a cry she landed on her back on a solid floor, not glass. Something scraped as Taylor knocked into it.

A wooden chair.

Taylor… She knew that sound. It haunted her dreams, twisted her nightmares.

It was the sound of a high school desk.

Feeling like she had just come off the best roller-coaster in the world she stood up on shaking legs. Looking up Taylor froze face to face with Sophia Hess. Her face was blank, watching.

Taylor jerked backwards into another desk. She knew where she was, this was Mr. Gladly's classroom. In a panic she turned around, had she just fell asleep in class?

To her horror, Emma and Madison occupied the back two corners of the darkened room. Sophia was standing near the teacher's desk and Taylor herself now near the middle of the room. All of them stared at her and yet… No one said anything.

"I've… I’ve got to go." Taylor mumbled as she edged her way towards the door. Reaching it she pushed on the metal handle. Her heart sank when it refused to open. They had locked her in. Again. She quickly turned with her back pressed to the wooden door, terror climbing up her throat. What, what would they do to her? What more could they take? She had nothing left.

Refocusing, Taylor expected them be right in front of her now, ready with whatever plot they had in mind today to torment her with… but they weren't.

They hadn’t moved, they weren't doing anything. There were no taunts, no giggling or knowing smirks, no whispered lies and insults. The three girls, her greatest tormentors… They just stood there. Sophia was the weirdest out of the group. Sophia was like a predator, born and raised. At least that what Taylor thought. Sophia was always watching, always observing, always moving, twitching with a manic energy. Seeing her so still was… odd. Normally she’d be doing something, drumming her fingers, tapping her foot, folding and unfolding her arms... Sophia standing so still and relaxed was wrong.

Social rituals annoyed her, begging infuriated her, being challenged enraged her. Sophia wasn't observing her, she was waiting on her. Waiting on Taylor, her prey.

That was what tipped Taylor off. Tipped her off to the fact this was still limbo and this wasn't the real Sophia, Emma or Madison. It was a sad state of affairs when imposters made her feel better than the real thing.

Taylor slowly walked back to not-Sophia. Feeling extremely off-balance as she stared at not-Sophia's face. Seeing details of a calm and peaceful Sophia. Taylor didn't like it, the natural order was being disturbed.

"Hello?" Taylor said to not-Sophia. The girls eyes, empty things, turned to her.

"What are you most afraid of?" Sophia's voice said, the normally harsh voice was mellow for the first time Taylor could recall and sounded genuinely curious. Taylor's mouth opened then closed. Swallowing the bile creeping up her throat she went along with this sick game.

"You. I'm afraid of you, Sophia."

Chapter Text

Will of iron made Taylor not run or smash Not-Sophia's face as she hummed.

"Am I really that bad?" She said crossing her arms in speculation, her expression ponderous. It was something Taylor thought she’d never see on the real Sophia’s face. Still, Taylor didn’t trust herself not to say something regrettable to not-Sophia, so she turned and navigated the maze of school desks. Taylor tried to push her fear and rage back down inside her, as much as the girls were perfect copies of her bullies they were just that, copies. They didn’t deserve any of her anger. Taylor took a breath as she approached not-Madison.

Standing in front of her, and more than a little above her, Taylor took a troubling moment to think how little she actually knew about the petite girl with the serene expression standing before her.

It was… almost nothing. Madison was popular and appeared innocent. Neither were a huge selling point for Taylor and she felt justified in her dislike of the other girl who took such pleasure in beating her down; stealing homework, launching spitballs at her, and spilling things on her seat. Worse, Taylor was almost sure that the extent of what she knew about Madison was the same as she knew about Taylor. Almost nothing, just from Emma and yet the girl still bullied her.

Though… Madison was the weak link of the group, she didn’t have the inate violence and anger of Sophia, nor the secrets and trust Emma had from when they’d been friends all those years ago. Madison just beat her down, the smaller girl not seeking a rise out of her like Emma. Why Emma did that, Taylor had no idea and she had a niggling feeling that neither did Emma, not really.

Madison, however, had neither lost nor gained anything. It was the simple knowledge that you were popular if you bullied Taylor Herbert. If Sophia and Emma approved of you then the world spun just that bit sweeter.

It was for this reason that Taylor cared the least about Madison and she was the least scared of Madison of any of the three.

"Well?" Taylor said with the air of impatience. Okay, so maybe she was still a little angry, even if this wasn’t really her tormentor.

Madison tilted her head just a little, her blue clips shining.

"What do you want most out of life?" Madison asked, almost child-like in tone. Taylor wanted to be smart and say ‘to get out of this place’ but there was just something about this place that made Taylor want to be honest, to be true to her own heart. It felt good, really good, to finally say this to someone. Even if they were projections of her crumbling sanity. Taylor wasn't feeling especially picky at that moment.

"I want to be a Hero." Taylor finally said quietly. Madison giggled and Taylor had a flash of panic that perhaps this was a huge joke but Madison just smiled at her.

"Is being a Hero such a big deal?" The child-like voice asked, almost teasing now.

Taylor just blinked at her.

Of course it was. The whole world changed the day Scion appeared. New morals were invented for them, new rules, new ways of life. Even if you didn't like them, you couldn’t deny their importance. Every young kid wanted to play heroes and villains.

The imperfections of the copies just became more apprent with every second Taylor spent here.

Emma waited for her in the last corner.

Her red hair glowing slightly in the moonlight streaming through the classrooms windows. In all honesty Taylor wanted to avoid this confrontation.

Emma had been her best friend and Emma used every opportunity available to remind Taylor of this fact. Emma was beautiful, a junior model and rumor was that she was only waiting until she turned 18 to move to New York and model for some of the more famous brands, though Taylor didn’t know which.

Taylor could call her ugly, point out how rotten Emma was inside… But it wouldn’t change the facts. Emma always was the brighter side of their dead friendship. Taylor was just shyer, less out going, more bookish. Those traits had turned Taylor into a person who was looked down on by the social climbers in high school, those who wouldn’t, didn’t, hesitate to step on her on their way upward.

People like Emma.

"Emma." Taylor said tersely. Not-Emma’s mouth twitched at the corners in a tiny smile, the kind she’d used to wear. Not-Emma faced Taylor with no aggression, not hate, not cruel words. Instead she appeared open, almost welcoming… like the friend Taylor had lost.

This hurt more than Taylor thought it would. Taylor had told herself that Emma was dirt and she didn't care about what the red-head thought of her anymore. Now though, to see not-Emma acting just like she had years ago, when they’d shared everything and promised to be friends forever…

Lying to yourself hurts so much when you have to face the truth.

Taylor wanted to accept this friendly face, warm expression around the eyes and say this was her Emma. The one that she’d lost.

"What is most important to you?" Not-Emma’s voice was smooth and light, just like Taylor remembered. She swallowed back her roiling emotions.

An easy question, when you had no friends, no mother, no hope… there was only one thing left.

"My father." Taylor said with determination. This made Emma smile fully, a kind smile. Taylor's heart lurched at the sight and she choked back a sob.

Before she could compose herself the voice spoke to her again. Taylor had been curious where that particular spout of insanity had wondered off to.

"You are afraid of Sophia.

You want to be a hero.

And your father is the most important thing to you.

You journey starts in the dead of night, keep strong and the stars will guide your way."

"My what?" Taylor said before the moonlight coming through the classroom windows blazed.

Blinded, Taylor threw up her arms to shield her stinging eyes. The light streamed on for another few seconds before it died down.

Hesitantly, Taylor lowered her arms and felt a tears of frustration and despair prick her eyes.

Another platform.

Blinking the last of the stars away she took a long look at the platform before her.

Taylor stilled a terrible ache filling her heart and her breath hitched. Taking a few steps forward she slowly sunk down, sitting beside the wondrous and terrible image.

Her mother's face was full of life and love. Taylor had pictures, lots of pictures, of her mother in an easy to reach album, it was almost therapy for her to idly flip through it, drowning amidst memories of happier times. This though… To see her mother smiling, alive in a way no picture could ever capture… Tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Mom.” Taylor whispered, reaching out to brush her hand against the cool glass of her mother’s cheek.

This image of her mother seemed more important, closer to Taylor herself than any image had before. Her mom had her arms wide open, with that sun dress that she claimed was her favorite because Dad had spent ages saving up to buy for it for her birthday when they’d been dating… Her mother was almost inviting Taylor to come embrace her.

Taylor choked, tears running down her cheeks unsure whether to laugh or cry. She took back everything she had claimed before about this place. This, right here, was the cruelest and most sanity breaking thing the voice could ever throw at her.

"The pain of the heart is unknowable, and each person’s pain their own. Yet it is a good pain to have, for it shows that even if we have lost, we can love. Be careful though, for the darkness hungers for what it cannot have." Voice called to her. Taylor turned and saw three shadows near the platforms edge.

Taylor quickly stood and panicked. She had forgotten to hold on to the wonder-staff and now she was defenseless and there was nowhere to run.

Taylor raised her hands in self-defense as the shadows drew near. To her shock, a flash white light filled her hands.

It was warm and when it faded, the staff was held loosely in her hands.

"Oh wow, I guess you really are more than just a stick." Taylor breathed aloud, then paused.

She had talked to the stick first, god-damn-it.

The shadows raced towards her now and Taylor took up a batters position and waited. She was at a safe enough distance that fleeing to the other side of the platform was still an option.

Taylor felt a sense of excitement as the first shadow leapt at her.

With a grunt she swung the staff full force. The blue mouse head smashed into the body and it vanished in a cloud of darkness.

Alright! Taylor:1 - Shadows:0

The remaining ant creatures twitched their antennas. One flattened on to the ground and scattered away. The remaining one...ran.

Taylor had to keep herself from giggling at the absurd stomping and arm throwing the shadow was doing as it towards her.

A flash of black appeared in the corner of her eye and Taylor jumped back, just in time to avoid a swipe from the third shadow.

Taylor gulped and made herself pay attention.

With a quick swing she whacked the shadow on the head, the staff glowed slightly as it connected and the shadow was flattened mid flail.

The second one rushed her and she stepped back out its reaching claws.

Taylor lashed out with a kick and it fell back, another swing of her staff erased the creature from existence. The last shadow stared where the other one had vanished, then it just rushed her again.

These things weren't very smart, almost animal-like in intelligence. A step and a swing had her alone on the platform again. Taylor breathed in then let out a shuddering breath.

This was easy part she reminded herself. If her mother showed up as a copy person, then Taylor would… She wasn’t entirely sure, but it began with ‘lose it’ and went on from there.

"Hurry! The light is fading." The voice urged her onwards... but to where? The light above her moved as she stared, the halo surround the platforms center trailed off to the edge and as it vanished, colored glass-pane stairs appearing quickly from thin air one after the other connecting to another platform altogether.

Taylor hesitated just a moment, staring at the rail-less stairs with too large gaps. Them the platform behind began to crack, the far edge shattering.

Decision made for her, Taylor ran onto then up the glass steps.

Shadows appeared to block her, but a few swipes of the wonder-staff sent them flying off the stairs, or destroyed them outright creating tiny implosions of darkness. They trailed after her though, following with a singular determination that was starting to put her on edge. She kept running though as the stairs began shattering behind her and Taylor's feet clattering upon the glass.

When she reached the next platform the remaining stairs cracked and fell, the surviving shadows falling along with them. Taylor breathed a sigh of relief; an individual shadow was cute, but forty was pushing toward horror movie levels.

Taylor slowly turned and peered at the platform, afraid of what visage would be there to torment her this time. She breathed a sigh of relief when instead it which almost featureless, dominated by a single red heart.

After every other platform, this was almost disappointing but preferable to the last platform. However, there was one major difference that Taylor noticed.

On this platform, the light wasn’t even. In the center of this platform was, not a sunbeam as there was no sun, but it was like one. A spotlight shining from above, the entrapped dust turned golden in the intense light.

As Taylor walked closer she felt the light wash over her, comforting her in ways she couldn't explain.

"The closer you are to the light, the darker the shadow you cast." The voice said with a tone of regret.

Taylor stared upwards confused. Shadow?

Turning she saw her own shadow, which had stretched out into two thin strands, stretching out to a replica of her. Then it began to bubble and steam.

It pulled itself up, a copy of her rendered in black. Taylor stared in horror at her shadow, terrified of its expressionless face and glowing yellow eyes.

This... That thing couldn't be her. Involuntary Taylor took a few steps back. A new voice murmured into her ear. It sounded like a cold, dead version of her own.

"Don't you recognize yourself?"

Taylor tuned and ran to the edge, catching herself before she fell.

Taylor turned and saw something that would she would never, ever forget until her dying days.

Her shadow had grown larger. Her face smoothed then twisted into a bramble of thorns that writhed about its head. Its limbs were long, inhumanly stretched and the fingers had become vicious claws. What truly upset her though was the heart-shaped hole missing from its chest.

Taylor Herbert was not heartless. Taylor repeated this as a mantra.

The creature towered over her, barely fitting on the platform.

"Don't be afraid, You hold the mightiest weapon of all." The gentle voice was back.

Its confidence filled her with a sliver of hope, even against her own shadow. Taylor gripped the wonder staff.

"I'm scared." She said quietly. The voice answered for once.

"It's okay to be afraid. Just remember who is waiting for you."

Taylor sucked in breath. How could she forget? Dad was waiting for her. How long had she been here?

If she was missing then her Dad wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't...

Taylor gripped the staff and stared at the creature who lifted a single fist.

Taylor Hebert would not die

Taylor Hebert would live.

Taylor was so focused on her enemy that she didn't see the staff glowing with a soft inner light.

Chapter Text

This was her most promising project yet. The girl's sleep was restless and she would rather put her energy to a useful purpose.

Her table, which was recently clean, was now covered in tools and materials. Her usual inspirations didn't take her so strongly. Tonight was important, she could feel it. Her hands waved as she busied herself. Every cut had to be perfect, every fold just right.

It was the light of morning that broke her attention from her work. She hesitated, the last piece in her hand ready to be added.

With a careful precision she attached it to the top of the creation. A red pom-pom that almost glowed in the early light.

Chapter Text

"Be strong and remember. You hold the mightiest weapon of all. You are the one who will open the way."

The first thing Taylor felt was how dry her mouth was. Letting more of her body slowly come to life was a slow process and she nearly fell asleep several times trying to sit up.

When Taylor felt brave enough to open her eyes she immediately regretted it. The light stabbed into her eyes and split her skull open, the open window nearby tormenting her.

Slamming her eyes shut Taylor kept them closed for a minute as her breathing even out. While waiting for the throbbing in her skull to fade she used the time to think.

Her bedroom window wasn't on that side of the bed. Her bed and pillows felt never felt this crisp, this clean, like they were fresh out of the packet or cleaned to an industrial level.

Risking another peak Taylor cracked opened a single eye.

Green walls, white curtains and what smelled like enough disinfectant to bleach her pressed in around her.

Closing her eye again as she felt the light begin to stab her, Taylor began to move her heavy fingers. First clenched and unclenched her hands, taking her time as she squeezed each hand into a fist and released it, then again. Something… Drugs maybe? Probably. Whatever she had in her system was making moving a real obstacle but Taylor supposed if she had been given that much pain-killer it might be for the best.

Her thoughts also felt sluggish, murky. It was hard to get any clear understanding of what was happening. Taylor lay in the sterile sheets for a while just trying to remember, her hands rhythmically clenching, her nails beginning to bite as she clenched harder harder with each new memory.

The locker, blood, crawling, nibbling, rot, rot, rot…

The shadow, lurking, trying to kill, kill her and she had...

"Taylor?" Her father's voice tentatively reached out to her.

If it were anyone else Taylor would not have opened her eyes. Yet, despite the pain and ache, slowly they opened.

His grey complexion was startling in comparison to the heavy black bags under his eyes.

Danny Hebert looked like he was having a really bad day. His clothes were at least a day old, rumbled and worn; his hair was messed probably up from his hand running through it, the receding hair-line making it look stringy, not that Taylor had any intention of saying any of that out loud.

Her day was already starting off crap as it was, she didn't need to add upset father to the list.

"Hey Dad." Taylor said, or tried to. The sound that came out was more like a whispered raspberry. Her tongue felt like dried beef, her throat like she swallowed sand, and quite possibly a cat had slept in her mouth. Taylor reached for the clear glass jug of water on the bed desk that hovered over her.

Her hand had lifted so far but her strength fled her and the hand dropped suddenly with a feeble thud.

Taylor's hand had dropped to the sheets before her dad had a fresh glass of water, plus straw, at her mouth.

He was responding to her. This let her feel a lot better as she sipped, however long she had been here hadn't been long enough to let him sink to post-Mom's funeral mode. Taylor would rather he wasn't here at all that be here like… that.

Just waking up to wander around the house, staring at TV with dull eyes, or pushing the pasta Taylor made for him around his plate then going back to bed in almost near silence… She couldn’t bear. It wasn’t something Taylor had expected or really coped with. The weeks after the car crash had truly been like she’d lost both parents.

Then Taylor, offhand one night, had said that she'd rather eat the dust under the couch than any more pasta and she didn’t know how to cook anything else. That had made her dad blink, his eyes slowly blinking, adjusting to actually look at her for the first time in weeks. Then, without a sound, pull her close in a tight hug.

They had ordered pizza that night. From the usual place.

Now though… He was here. Not dead and the cool water had returned life to her tongue at last.

"Thanks Dad. Where are am I?" Taylor whispered. Her raw throat protested any sound at all, but Taylor was sure she could keep up short sentences without straining herself too badly, at least for awhile.

"The hospital, Taylor." Danny let loose a shaky breath. Taylor thought the IV fluid drops and heart beat monitor were a bit of a giveaway there but she also didn’t really want to think too hard right now. Still, Taylor's mind delved a little deeper through the drug haze as she felt her mind slip backwards to... when?

"Dad, how… how long?" Taylor asked before a coughing fit wracked her body, making her shake and wheeze. Danny hovered over her in obvious distress feeling helplessness.

Slowly the fit faded and Taylor's throat felt raw. Breathing through her nose was a little easier as her felt was so saw and she slowly began to recover her breath. Taylor gratefully accepted another sip from the glass her dad offered her.

Looking over at him Taylor saw her dad relax a little as he helped her in at least someway.

‘For the first time in who knows how long.’ Taylor thought bleakly.

"Dad, how long?" She asked again. Danny pulled his plastic chair closer to the bed, his hand reaching out to gently take hers.

"Just two days Taylor, you were given a lot antibiotics and painkillers. One of the nurses told me it was just enough for you to fight out any minor infections from the bug bites and cuts, but you've overslept kiddo, the staff thought you would be up hours ago." Danny's lips turned up just a little, a weak smile on his lips.

"I don't think they've ever treated a teenager if they still have ideas about you being awake before 11 when you don't have too." The attempt at humor, however weak, made Taylor smile back at him wanly. Taylor was still trying to keep herself from drooling as the pain medication and whatever else kept trying to pull her under again.

"It's Monday? I remember the... the… locker." Taylor struggled to not think about that nightmare place, insects chittering, blood...

No!

Danny's hand clenched tighter, as Taylor shivered, his words failing even when his feelings did not.

Memories of the tiny metal prison pulled at her. It was dark, choking… Walls crushing in, suffocating, blood dripping, skittering biting, crawling all over, rot, her nose burning and…

Taylor shook her head whimpering. She couldn't have been there for more than an hour or two before someone had finally let her out, a cleaner maybe? Though something didn't really make sense to her as she recalled parts of her tentative stay in hell.

Taylor been left in the locker, but somewhere between her getting in and her getting out, Taylor must inhaled some of the world’s most potent moon dust and been whisked off to dream land. She had must have been so busy looking for her marbles or chasing purple butterflies that she didn’t notice someone helping her.

"Shh kiddo, it's okay, I came looking for you after you didn't turn up for dinner. I arrived just as they...as they carried you out on a stretcher." His remaining hand grabbed my beds rail tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

It was a remarkable feat that he only gave Taylor’s own hand, clasped in his other, a gentle squeeze.

"I thought you were dead. You… You were covered in blood and there was a lot of police and other uniforms kicking about. I kept thinking that maybe finally the gang kids had exploded at each other and you’d got caught in the middle or something. But you were gone before I could even get close, I didn't know where they were taking you or if… if you were alive." Danny paused to swallow back his tears.

Taylor almost crushed his hand in comfort, squeezing for all she was worth.

"I’m alive, Dad." Taylor murmured. She felt drained though, the emotions and memories overwhelming. Releif, horror, comfort. It was all too much too fast. Slowly, her eye lids grew heavy and drifted closed as she relaxed back into the sheets.

Distantly she heard her father’s voice and smiled.

"That's my girl."

"...and you sure about these names?" The man’s voice was tired. It matched his appearance, Taylor decided. Tired, a rumpled suit and eye bags, he just looked tired. The man he stood next to her bed, refusing the seat her father had offered. Now he stood their tiredly watching her, one hand holding a note pad the other a boring, unchewed pencil.

Detective 'Wade' Marsh was a man who seen too much in his 22 years of being on one force or another. Now he just didn't look very hard anymore, didn’t try anymore. When he came in and introduced himself, Taylor had the distinct impression she mattered to Detective Marsh as much as the chair he declined.

"Yes, several others helped but those three are the ring leaders, I heard their voices as the door shut on me." Taylor said calmly though she had to stop herself from flinching. Danny’s pacing next to her bed barely hid the anger coursing through him. It reminded Taylor of countless nights of when he would come home on bad days.

More demand from the people, less work from above. She almost asked him to grab food or take a walk..

But the idea of him leaving, after she clawed her way out of a spiritual and physical darkness to get back to him… It was painful letting her father see how weak she was, to cause such rage because she couldn’t handle her own problems. So she’d decided to let her dad see the extent of what she had being going through, to tell the truth for once.

It wasn’t helping.

After a morning of doctor visits and the replacing of dressings for her cut fingers and insect bites, Taylor was ambushed mid-breakfast by her dad with Detective Marsh, who claimed to be gathering information so the police could ‘get a clear picture of the incident.’

Taylor wanted to throttle him. Clear? A girl was stuffed in a locker filled with biological waste and left there. For hours. Just abandoned until she somehow broke the door open on her own and was found catatonic by the school janitor between classes. What did this guy think happened? Taylor fell head in first and then shut the door behind her? That Taylor shut herself in there for attention? She just really liked small cramped spaces and rotting blood?

The detective grunted and snapped his note pad closed.

"I'll look into it, but it's a mess. Due to the end of class time, no one student was able or willing to implicate any other student. Everyone just wanted to go home. If it comes down to your word against three others, and it looks like it will, then it’s going to slow the investigation to a snail's pace… Unless you got evidence?" Detective Marsh asked, already sounding bored.

"Besides being locked in locker full of used... tampons and pads? Which it’s not possible to get for DNA comparison? How about a journal of the last four, going on five, months of me recording what they did to me every day?" Taylor said, carefully not looking at her father.

Detective Marsh let loose a sigh but flipped his note-book back open.

"DNA can't be compared or taken from anyone unless they're suspected and ruled by the law to give a sample. More, with all the stuff in there too likely for contamination. Hmm. What kind of records? Pictures? E-mails? Make my job easier if you had some videos." He said sardonically.

She had to kept her temper from flaring as all the evidence she’d collected, all the humiliation she’d endured was just… Discounted. Thrown away. Invalidated. Nothing she’d recorded and nothing she said would apparently help her. Just bring more shame on her dad.

"Is this a joke to you?" Danny growled while stalking up to the unimpressed Detective.

"No sir, it's a serious issue. One that's not going to have a happy ending at this rate. I'm sorry your daughter was treated this way, and trust me, no one is as sick as me when it comes to this type of crime." Marsh said. He sighed then and finally took the seat that was offered to him, slumping onto the plastic chair.

"This city is gone to hell. Look, when I get out of here I've got to go pick up someone else's kid that died in the gutter last night looking for his next high. Then I get to go tell his parents their kid’s dead and that we’re investigating. Nothing’ll come of that either. Back home after that, then I go out tomorrow and find the next one. Like I said, I'm sorry your daughter was treated this way. But in most ways you're a lucky man. You should be thankful you still have her and you’re not having to arrange a funeral. Now I'm going to ask your daughter, Taylor, to tell me what she has and I need you to let me do my job." Marsh finished slowly, his voice gravelly.

Danny’s lips thinned but he turned away and stalked back over to the window and stared straight out at mid-winter sun.

Marsh gestured to Taylor, signaling for her to continue.

"I have a few e-mails that were sent to me, but there's nothing really special about them despite the IP address that returns back to the school. They weren't sent from any school accounts, just yahoo and things like that. All dead ends. I've written every single incident down the hour that they happened, minutes sometimes, including who was there and any teachers who would have seen."

Detective Marsh frowned. His eyes went distance as he thought about something and changed his mind.

"I'm going to give it to you straight, ‘cause I think you need to hear this. Not a lot of people would tell you this but I think you can handle it." He leaned in towards Taylor. Danny had also stopped 'not' paying attention and turned away from the window to watch.

"In court, all this will be thrown out as hearsay, just claims without evidence. Nothing but your word against theirs, not without something substantial to back it up." Marsh raised a hand as Taylor started, her mouth opening to argue.

"I'm not saying give up. Never give up. Now, there’s another guy in my department who’s doing routine questions at the school and those three girls? They’ll all sit up and sing each other’s innocence, like a little choir at Sunday school. That's all they have to do. Innocent till proved guilty may prevents witch burn’ins but every once in a while it puts people like you in the hospital." Marsh said with a scowl.

Taylor bit her lip, waiting to see where he went with this.

"Now here's what you do, and this is all off record mind, but… you wait. You wait until one of them slips and breaks. It’ll happen, always does. You just gotta wait for one ‘em fold and their whole little tower lies comes crashing down. Safe as houses that one of them runs this whole smear campaign against you but a boss can't be in charge if she's by herself. The thugs? They’ll roast her in a minute if they think they’re going down. So you just got to wait and then when the whole card tower starts to tumble you push this little bomb on them then sit back and watch the fireworks." He said, flicking his fingers out like an exploding firework.

Taylor's mouth had dropped mid speech. Marsh coughed as he stood, looking a little red.

"I got to get going. Things to do, people to see, paperwork. Usual thing. Anyway, stay out trouble, you hear? The PD will contact you with the sad news soon enough. Faster if one of them kids on this list of yours is a trust fund baby." Detective Marsh gave them both a nod, turned, then without a glance back strode out the door.

Danny eased himself into the empty seat, a mixture of surprise and resignation on his face.

"That was interesting." He said distantly. Taylor fidgeted, not answering. The idea of waiting... Just waiting another god knows for how long for one of them to slip, for someone to crack when no one had for 18 months...

Taylor's stomach churned at the thought of walking back to that school, back to that locker. The knowing smile on Emma’s face as she got away with it again. And… And knowing it would only get worse?

Taylor pulled back her sheets and wobbled to the toilet. Danny rushed to help her but stalled as Taylor shut the door.

"Sorry Dad, upset stomach. Give me a minute." She said through the thick door.

"Shout if you need me." Her father's voice called back, a little hurt but resigned.

Taylor turned on the taps to splash her face. She had forgotten to hit the light switch on the way in but enough light crept under the door for her to see, if only just.

Her stomach twisted, bile creeping up her throat like in the…

Another splash to her face.

The Detective's grim conviction ate at her. Emma, Madison, Sophia… They would get away with what they had done. They’d tried to kill her, torture her and… they’d get away with it.

Splash. Emma would get away with betraying.

Splash. Sophia would get away with trapping her in that hell.

Splash. Madison would get away with tormenting her, no doubt providing the other two’s alibi.

Taylor forgot the water entirely and just gritted her teeth, fighting back a sob or a scream… She wasn’t entirely sure which.

Leaning forward her hands gripped the sink until her knuckles whitened and her fingers cramped. It wasn't fair, it wasn't. Taylor had been so careful, collecting evidence, documenting all the bullying all the suffering… and for what? For those three bitches to turn around and say "It wasn't me."

Fuck them.

Fuck them all.

As tears started rolling down her cheeks Taylor looked up as an odd keening noise echoed around the bathroom and quickly recoiled from the mirror.

Taylor's reflection was just a black outline in the poor light… But inside her shadow were two glowing yellow eyes. With a gasp Taylor stumbled back in fright. Her reflection didn't move at all at first, just watching her. Then it moved by itself and pushed at the glass.

The mirror stretched like it was plastic wrap instead of solid glass. Her shadow never took its eyes off her as it reached for her and Taylor raised her hands in self-defense. They… it was here? Those monsters, her shadow… It wasn’t all just a dream?

The part of Taylor not gibbering in terror wished she still had the wonder-staff.

"It never left you."

A light. Even with her eyes closed in terror light shone through them and as it illuminated the room. The shadow writhed away from it and fled back into the mirror. In Taylor's hands the light became longer and solid.

When the light finally faded, Taylor stood alone holding a... something.

Keyblade... Keyblade...

Keyblade... Keyblade…

Keyblade....

The voice whispered to Taylor. In her ear, inside her head. Just like before in that nowhere place.

Taylor turned out of habit but no one was there. In her hands the "Keyblade" remained though. A comforting light, warm weight.

Holding it closer to the light creeping around the door she examined it.

Taylor found her hand wrapped around a long dark brown handle made of some leathery material, it connected to a hand guard crafted to look like a pair of drooping leafs that curved around the handle to form an oval of protection, making the base look like an elegant letter phi, Φ.

Looking up, the weapon stretched on. Above the guard the blade was a long circular tube that reminded Taylor of a black flute. It was about the size of Taylor's arm extended outwards, carved with all the proper tone hole openings to allow air to exit for music. Around and in between the keys twined vines; green, thorny vines twisting along the metal. Her eyes traveled further up and Taylor saw near the 'head', the flower of a rose, three particularly curved petals spread out from the rest, giving the image of a saw blade or the teeth of a key.

Taylor had never seen such an odd, but beautiful, weapon.

As she moved it slightly to the side, something gently hit her leg. Looking down, Taylor spotted a chain coming from the handle. It looped down to a small charm like object that reminder Taylor of a butterfly or a moth. Taylor's eye sight wasn't the greatest at the best of times and alone in a dark hospital bathroom was hardly the best, yet she still caught a flash of orange from the charm.

Since she had never seen this weapon before, this Keyblade, Taylor knew she should not have known that this was a weapon. Nor that she should know without a doubt that this Keyblade had a name.

Taylor Hebert definitely knew that she should not know that in her hands she held the Melody of the Lost.

Taylor Hebert did, however, know without a doubt that she was smiling.

Chapter Text

How long has it been? My feeble existence has been a trial for so long.

These messages that I construct with what I have left are floating away to the world below.

It matters not. Only they matter.

Where are they?

I could not say with any certainty where the others have ended up.

Only that I'm sure it cannot be any worst than where I have come to land.

Land. I say it as I have managed such a feat. The world is so close, but untouchable in so many ways.

It is but another longing that I must endure. The traitor must be laughing. How well it all worked out.

I discarded such emotions as hope and belief. They are crutches that hold me back as I wait.

No. The only thing left in my being is hate. It burns so deeply that I can taste it.

This world is untouchable, for now. But darkness reaches all things, for darkness is all things.

It is coming. I just need to wait a little longer.

Chapter Text

"Torn about dinner, it's been awhile since I cooked...I'll see what I can do, haven't been shopping in a few days so the kitchen is looking neglected." Danny said as his eyes scanned the room, his hand running through his hair, looking for any reason to stay. Taylor wanted to be annoyed, but honestly found the action reassuring.

After the morning, when her Keyblade (she had tried thinking of any other name but the current one just resonated with her) appeared, Taylor had revisited the memory of the realm of darkness and plane glass. The feeling of loss resurfaced as she remembered the mere idea that she would never see her father again.

So when Taylor needed water, she let him reach for it, if she needed her food cut up, Danny did it and Taylor had even let him help her to the bathroom door and back. Each time Danny helped in some small way, his face gained a little life back. It made Taylor feel better herself.

So when he held up his hands in defeat and smiled at her, she smiled back.

"I know, I know. I'm going to go downstairs and practise not hovering over you. Shout if you need me, for anything." He added said, looking her straight in the eyes. As he turned to leave, Taylor took three quick steps and hugged him. Danny's body froze but quickly returned the hug with greater force.

"It's going to be okay, I'm going... to be okay." Taylor said into his shirt, her words almost muffled. With a one last hug, Danny released her.

"I'll be downstairs." Danny said in with a tight voice. As his back vanished down the stairs, Taylor softly closed the door for what felt like the first time in years. Sitting on her bed, Taylor thought about herself and her father.

It was a mess. Taylor and her father had drifted badly in the last few months. When her Mom had died, an awkwardness formed between them, Taylor had expected her Dad would need some time but the total shut down of Danny Hebert had cause Taylor to, deep down, blame him for leaving her alone to deal with the house, the sad sympathy calls, Mom's stuff...

Taylor had closed herself off, blaming her father for the distance that spanned them, not thinking about how much she had helped cause the rift to widen.

When her Dad finally started to shake himself back into sense, Taylor had already thought that the damage was done, between Sophia, Emma, the flute, Mom's death and the lack of anyone giving a damn, Taylor was more than ready to stop talking altogether.

Taylor loved her father, however it wasn't something so obvious until she had nearly lost him. Her event of gaining the Keyblade had caused Taylor to think why she was put through such an ordeal. Why were such things as her father and herself focused on so much, why was her superpowers gained via a spiritual journey.

One thing was clearer, Taylor didn't want to lose her Dad. Not any more. Shaking herself back to the present, she thought.

It wasn't clear even after the respite in the hospital, But Taylor had been given powers.

Taylor Hebert was a cape!

With a giant garden key.

Taylor sighed as she finally booted up her computer. The old thing coughed and wheezed as life return to it.

Taylor hadn't been idle in the hospital. Besides vanishing to the toilet so often to call the Keyblade that the doctors had tried to ask if she had stomach problems, Taylor had also been diving deep into the online presence of capes and their watchers. One half of her curious to see if she could find anything about odd capes hanging about Brockton and to learn about, what she had soon come to learn was called, triggers.

The first task was simple in its reason. Taylor had no idea how she escaped the locker. In her mind the Keyblade was suspect number one, but it was not alone as the police had asked her about any memory of someone helping her. Taylor had pressed them in return and with some hesitation they revealed that there was a hole in her locker.

Someone or something had cut clean through the cheap metal.

Now Taylor was hardly going to start dissing her own powers, shiny and new as they were, but the beautiful curved rose petals didn't seem to have a real edge to them.

With a quick look to make sure the door was shut, Taylor held out her hand and needed.

The light that always accompanied its summon flashed and then in her hand was the Keyblade. It never felt out-of-place, like Taylor could feel it appearing and she had to grab it. Even when her hand was clasped tight, the Keyblade seemed to fit perfectly in her grip.

Running one hand over the rose head she carefully stroked her thumb across the petals but her digit met no danger. As far she could feel, there was no hidden edge to the thing that would cut through metal as it was hot butter.

Now as she gently placed it to lean against her desk, she couldn't help but grin. Taylor hadn't yet learned how to unneed yet. Taylor never wanted the weapon to go. It was a physical symbol of her rank, a superhero. The problem was that she had to wait until it just vanished on its own.

This usually meant she had stashed it in the cleaning closet inside the bathroom when she was playing around in the hospital. The one time a cleaner had went in there had caused Taylor's heart to race but when they're was no puzzled expression on the man's face, Taylor relaxed. The cool down between it appearing and it vanishing was never clear.

Now in the comfort of her own bedroom she felt a bit more brave about summoning it, more sure of herself as she didn't immediately hide it.

The second reason, the triggers, was to purely satisfy Taylor's curiosity of her own experience. However, when she had started to dig she had quickly become aware of several key behaviors online.

One in particular was that no one who knew any capes in real life, bragged about out it online. No one speculated who was the person behind the mask. Not seriously anyway.

The people who did were quickly found and discouraged heartily with a heavy dosage of bans, or worse if some of the 'last active' time stamps were to believed.

As her browser loaded and the site came up, Taylor began her search once more.

The PHO was the site to use. The number one reason, in Taylor's opinion, was that they had real capes (marked with a verified from the sites runner, Tin-Mother) with accounts on the site. Only heroes and independents were among the numbers, Taylor had noticed at the back of her mind.

Taylor had to imagine that logging in, casually after a long day of villainy, for some good old forum debate was no doubt relaxing, if not stupid.

You would have to be crazy, stupid and/or mad to do attempt it, most likely all three.

Hovering her mouse over the profiles of some of the Brockton Bay Wards had shown the PM section was grayed out. This was interesting, not that Taylor had any guts or intentions to contact anyone one about her experience.

A giant key makes not a brave warrior, it would seem.

A quick bit of scrolling later had found the general behavior guide lines.

"24: Attempting to contact a verified Cape (VC) will not be possible in private messenger or link function. Unfortunately, it's all to too easy for some die-hard fan to log in and harass hard-working people or worse a villain planting false information to lure them. For the safety of all users, the only way to talk to a cape outside a thread is if they contact you first, this is not negotiable."

So there was a quick and easy/cowardly way of asking, out the window. Taylor frowned as she came across a rather infamous thread that had been locked, but kept as a reminder why respect for capes civilian life was a good thing.

The thread had been mostly cropped down to three pages. A cape from Seattle got into an explosive argument with a random user.

Boiler, an independent cape that had a generic hydrokinetic power with the exception not only could he generate water from his hands, any water he moved he could also change the temperature of the liquid from a freezing blast to an almost steam cloud vapor, had been needled by a user to the point of caps lock styled replies started flying.

The user had been annoying Boiler for a quick way to becoming a cape. Boiler had flat out said the price was not worth the gain. The user disagreed and said Boiler was just being a bitch and didn't want to share his success secret.

This had gone down badly, would be putting it mildly.

Boiler, who later regretted his action but not the consequences, had said in the bluntest way that he had to watch his home burn around him, the exact reason for the fire, Boiler declined to share. This had made Taylor feel sympathy for the guy, then Boiler had went on to say how he went looking for his wife who in another part of the house and when Boiler had found her...

Taylor swallowed back a rise of bile as she forced herself to read. Boiler's wife had been trapped and was already dead. Not caring Boiler had walked into the flames in raging grief and triggered, the entire house was engulfed a misty steam a few seconds later.

With that, the information about Boiler's cape record spoke for itself.

A month later Boiler had appeared on the cape scene, harshly dealing with the local crime. The Seattle capes, some heroes, some independents had tried to coach him to go softer and work with the law, which the man had started to listen to before he had caught two teens setting urban development houses on fire for shits and giggles.

One them was now wheelchair bound for life. The water pressure had reached that dense before Boiler finally relented his rage at the casual arson starting to slow.

No Hero team would touch him after that.

Boiler had said that was his trigger and it was most likely true for all capes. Triggers are the worst thing that could happen for a person. They were broken people who were quickly put back together with super power glue.

Taylor turned her computer off after reading this. Taylor would never dare compare her experience to Boiler's, they were so far from each other that it wasn't even funny. However, it did mean that for different people, the level for triggering was very different.

People all worked a little differently so it was no surprise. Checking the time had revealed that Taylor had been reading for almost an hour. Taylor thought about what to do next.

Taylor had no problem staying up all night with a hot drink, researching others like her, even summon her Keyblade for practise (for what, she had no idea now) . As she stared at her bedroom door, that idea lost just a little attraction.

Taylor was already slipping into old ways.

Grasping her bedroom doors handle she stopped and stared back her desk.

The Melody of the Lost was gone. With a nod of approval Taylor went downstairs to see if she could get her Dad to help her cook.

Taylor was thinking... pasta.

"...Right, and you can't reach either Harry or Rick?" Danny said into the phone, with a pinched expression spreading across his face. The other person said something and Dad sighed.

"I won't be long." He said softly and hung the phone. A soapy, wet dish was held in his other hand. Taylor had jokingly suggested family dish washing, instead of the turns they usually did. Her father had laughed and agreed.

Taylor had not appreciated him flicking bubbles at her, but with a quick scoop of her hand Taylor had managed to smear a white stripe on his face with a triumphant grin. Then the phone had went off.

"Work?" Taylor has asked casually, carefully managing her facial expression. Work had always been a big part of her Dad's life. As the Dockworkers Association as head of hiring and a spokesperson, Danny had been put into a place that depended on the state of the docks.

Which was in its current state, abysmal. Danny had to take the blame for poor job income and recruit numbers from higher-ups, but from what Taylor saw, most of the grunt level workers respected her Dad.

Work had also pulled Dad away from her more than once in the last year, Taylor didn't resent him for having the job, she resented what the job did to Danny. He always came back... sad.

"Yeah, mix up with the late shifts and no cover. I won't be too late but..." He said, trailing off as he knew he was beginning to reach parent mode, his stress over the last few days had been building, as he was due to return to work any day now. Taylor knew that he would worry about her regardless of what she would say.

Untill the first few nights went smoothly, her father just wouldn't relax.

Taylor smiled and hugged him.

"Lock the doors at ten and no boys." Taylor said seriously. Danny wiped at the soap on his face.

"Well that last one wasn't what I said but I'm glad you picked up on it anyway." Danny kissed her head and left with his coat in his arms. A few seconds later his car came to life and left.

Taylor slowly finished the dishes as she thought.

All alone with no adults around.

Taylor smiled as the last dish was set in the drying rack.

Taylor studied the Keyblade from across the room. Ideally she would say that she was discovering the secrets behind her power, but honestly Taylor was just too busy trying to classify herself using the widely accepted ratings of Blaster, Breaker, Brute, Changer, Master, Mover, Shaker, Stranger, Striker, Thinker, Tinker and Trump.

Taylor repeated the list again and saw some jump out at her and others fade.

Tinker was right out of the list. Tinker's had the ability to create beyond advance technology without really understanding how the tech worked, which was a shame since a lot of Tink Tech could really improve general life. The trick was that they still built their crafts out of real materials.

Mover didn't fit really either, Taylor had to be the one moving for it to count. Taylor had tried to reverse summon herself to the Keyblade, but mostly ended up looking foolish.

Stranger was also out for now. It was a strange weapon, but it didn't really lend to infiltration or reality perception when itself appeared in a spark of golden light.

Shaker was out for the single reason the Keyblade hadn't done anything to earn the rating.

Brute could count, however Taylor didn't want to try jumping off a building or throwing the Keyblade into a furnace to test it so it remained at potential zero for now.

Blaster left for the same reason as Shaker.

Changer was uncertain. Was she changing anything about herself to use the Keyblade? Nothing really felt amiss when she summoned the Keyblade. Quite the opposite, it felt to Taylor that she had discovered a third arm or a long lost friend.

Master was potentially in the running. She controlled the Keyblade with her will and need. Summoning it from theKeyblade farm when she wanted, so she had control over it to an extend.

Or maybe it was the other way around...

Striker was untested. Hopefully no one would wet themselves or exploded if she bopped them on the head with theKeyblade.

Thinker wasn't obvious, but there was many kinds so untill Taylor had really had experience there was no telling.

Trump and Breaker were also untested as the idea of running into a cape while she had no idea what her weapon could do was... at best, embarrassing and at worst could end up with some poor cape imploding.

Taylor really had to stop thinking of people exploding or imploding.

So here she sat pondering

Leaning back on her chair Taylor held her arm up and the Keyblade vanished in one flash of light and appeared, in another flash, in her hands.

Blowing out some air she casually threw it on to her bed where it bounced on the springy bed.

She summoned it again and threw it again. Taylor didn't feel any strain at doing this but as she threw it for the fourth time she had snapped her hand up too early and the blade vanished mid spin from the air and back to her hand.

Talyor blinked, that had potential. She was about to throw it again when she froze.

Foot steps in the hall

With all the flashing and jingling noises she hadn't heard her father come back home, forgetting something or other for work.

Hot panic spread through her as she looked for places to hide the Keyblade, but her Dad was already at the her door.

"Taylor? Are you here?" His voice called from the other side, she knew he was reaching for the handle as in panic.

"Dad! Don't come in!" She half squeak, half pleaded as the knob began to turn. Then the Keyblade glowed and a golden beam shot out from the rose head and hit the door.

A small glowing keyhole appeared where non had existed before, right under the handle. The door shook a little as her Dad tried to open the door.

"Taylor? Whats wrong? Are you okay?" Danny demanded loudly. Taylor blinking, spotted her towel on the back of her door and said what came to her mind.

"I'm getting undressed, Dad! I'm just getting ready for a shower." Taylor said in perfect teenage offended tone. The door stopped jiggling.

"Oh... Sorry Taylor, I forgot my ID badge and... what's keeping this door closed?" He asked suddenly alert again. Taylor made a dismissive sound.

"My extra large towel. You must have got it caught under the frame, lucky me." Taylor said with a grin in her voice as she stared at the glowing symbol.

"Ah sorry about that, when you didn't answer I panicked."

A muffled curse came from her Dad's side.

"Sorry hun, I got to get going. Enjoy your shower!" He called as his steps retreated. Taylor didn't bother calling after him.

For the first time Taylor wanted him to leave for a while. Incase for some reason Taylor couldn't unlock the door. It would be an awkward conversation.

Her fingers brushed the glowing keyhole. The frame was golden, but most of the center was a dark void. Taylor's finger just slide over the blackness like glass.

So her giant key... locked and unlocked things.

The logic made Taylor bump her potential Thinker rating down to -2.

Still a step forward is never bad. Raising her Keyblade like a knight, she grasped the handly firmly and pointed it at the keyhole.

"Open." Taylor said, feeling foolishly optimistic, she almost sagged before another beam shot out the Keyblade and the glowing Keyhole vanished.

Without a sound the door opened to the wide smile of Taylor Hebert.

Chapter Text

"Report." Emily Piggot said, as her fingers flipped on the folder on her desk. Words jumped out at straight away.

Winslow

Hebert, Taylor

Bullying

Locker

Emily leaned back in her chair. It wasn't an effort to appear casual, but a reminder that she ready to listen.

Armsmaster stood firm before her desk. Emily had stopped offering the man a chair years ago, it just saved time. The only other chair held a woman in army camo.

"On Friday, January 1st, approximately between 3.00 PM and 5.00 PM, Taylor Hebert, student at Winslow, was trapped inside a locker filled with used tampons, pads and other fluids. The cleaning staff found her passed out, lying in the filth." Armsmaster official tone took on a hint of disgust. Emily nodded, the file had spelled that clear out to her.

"She was taking to the General Brockton Bay Hospital. Miss. Hebert was given emergency care straight away where she awoke and told the local investigating officer the names of those who were involved." He paused here to follow some train of thought. Emily took over, deciding to flex her own brain.

Emily didn't mind Armsmaster. As far as capes went he was one of the few that she could stand talking to on a daily business. Armsmaster and Miss Militia made Emily feel slightly better about the capes as a whole, both took an extreme stance on capes abusing their powers.

For Armsmaster it was bothersome and wasteful, Miss Militia, her eyes darkened at the mention of abusive powers. Clearing her throat, Emily point her finger at the folder.

"Sophia Hess." She stated calmly, her finger going white at the tip as the paper creased. Miss Militia leaned forward, her eyes alert.

"This girl, Taylor, named one of our wards as a suspect that put her in the hospital?" She asked, a touch of anger creeping in to her voice. Emily nodded, sliding the file over to her.

"That is the claim so far. That's the first reason we're looking at this incident. Now Shadow Stalker has denied everything, smart of her for once, and her civilian friends have clamped down as well." Emily said as she rested her hands on the desk.

"I could go in and talk to her, my prototype truth detector is still a work in progress, but for one as expressive as Shadow Stalker..." Armsmaster offered to her. Emily was tempted, very much so, but her role was more important than her feeling.

"No, she has rights she's entitled to. Innocent until otherwise proven guilty. Miss. Hebert's claims could be unfounded and we do nothing more than set back all the progress we've made with her thus far." Emily sighed. Armsmaster nodded once.

Miss Militia eyes looked down at the folder.

"But if she's telling the truth?" She asked. Emily's smile was not warm.

"Then Shadow Stalker will be rapidly reminded that we were the lesser of two evils. I will not stand for anyone in the protectorate thinking that they are above the law, better than the common people because they are different." Emily's voice dropped an octave.

Silence fell in the office.

Armsmaster spoke softly.

"You said Shadow Stalker was the first reason. Can you share the second?" Armsmaster voice was still indifferent, but it was more alive now. Miss Militia also leaned forward again.

"I can. This is still in early stages of investigation but we believe that Taylor Hebert might have triggered, due to the stress of the incident." Emily secretly enjoyed the tightening of Armsmaster's jaw and the wide expression of Miss Militia's eyes.

Being capes themselves, they knew exactly what triggering meant for them.

"Proof?" Armsmaster grunted. Emily stood to look out her window. It hurt, but she wouldn't let them see that.

"When they found Miss Hebert, they found her already outside the locker. What's being kept from official reports is that the locker door that was keeping her in now has a foot size hole in it about chest high, also it was found 20 feet from her." She turned back to them and continued.

"The door was taking for examination and to be found that whatever damaged the metal was sharp. One of the comments on the early reports was that it was the cleanest cut they've seen yet." Emily paced a little as she talked.

"I've already spoken to the investigating officer, I managed to use the locker door, as potential Cape involvement, to avoid involving Shadow Stalker for now." Emily stated. Armsmaster chuckled dryly.

"Using one cape to hide another, crafty. Do we have access to the door, I could start running tests?" He said sounding happier than he had this whole meeting. Miss Militia rolled her eyes but they turned up a little when she looked away.

"Not yet, we're working as consultants just now to decide what exactly is going on, I will respect their choices on wanting to keep working the case in their department. However, if Shadow Stalker is involved, or any other cape, then we have clearance to over take the case. They're usually career sinkings cases for the police force, so I doubt they'll mind." Emily said, her confidence strong in her voice.

Armsmaster paused.

"If she was in the hospital, a CT scan might have been taken, if their scanner is efficient it may have caught the image of a Corona Pollentia." He said standing straighter.

"I could be in and out without hassle. It will allow us to definitely confirm Taylor Hebert as cape." He state firmly. Emily drew herself to her full height as Miss Militia stood suddenly.

"That is enough Colin! Taylor Hebert is not a suspect here, nor is she a puzzle for you to amuse yourself with." Miss Militia eyes shone with anger. Emily glared, her semi-good mood gone.

"Correct, we look at what evidence we have and even if, that's a big if, Miss. Herbert is a cape we will not abuse her legal rights nor her medical records for easy access at her. Regardless of what she is capable of, Miss. Herbet may be a victim of a cape abuse campaign. If all this turns out to be true, we send a notice to the Heberts to come in and to explain what has happened. Any number of our quick operations may have stalled the investigation into the matter." Emily sagged back down into her chair. She raised her eyes to stare at them

"We will do right by her. For the sense of justice that I work very hard to promote and on the off-chance that she may perhaps become a cape that could kill us all. Dismissed." Emily said tiredly. Both capes left the room together.

"... Director Piggot?" A womans voice suddenly crackled over the phone. Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Yes, Dragon?"

"I have the results from the Police department. They're handing the case over to the PRT."

"Confirmed, thank you."

Emily eyes drifted back to the folder. Each cape was a new chance, a new chance for to them to prove to her that they weren't monsters. The poor girl, regardless of her state, she was now already being held to an impossible standard in the eyes of Emily Piggot.

Chapter Text

In the dark of her room, Taylor held the oversized hoodie in her hands. The digital clock on her bedside table read 1.25 AM, five minutes left.

Then Taylor would have to take the leap or crawl back into bed.

Almost three weeks had passed since Taylor has locked her bedroom door. Not much had happened since. Her excitement had worn down a little, but Taylor still got a distinct thrill of emotion when she summoned the Keyblade, she had the free time to do it when since she wasn't going back to school until February. Apparently her Dad had decided a month would help him get back into the groove of working long shifts again without worrying about her.

Coming home to Taylor, sitting on the couch with her bowl of cereal, was a form of instant stress relief. 1st of February was the day he would let Taylor go back to the Winslow, Taylor had hardly argued against any of this.

Free time meant more time to have fun.

In that time Taylor had come to know several things about herself and the Keyblade.

First, the Keyblade was capable on opening and closing any lock that she had come across, such as doors, cars, sliding bolts, gates, zippers, windows, chains with padlocks, her own bike combination lock and a few other things.

Taylor knew the Keyblade could also lock things that didn't normally lock.

Her bedroom door had no lock of any sort on it, but when her Keyblade shoot its beam of light and noise of a clicking lock sounded, the door definitely didn't open.

Well, not easily.

Taylor had managed to find that if she exert her entire upper body into the door handle then whatever effect she had cast on the door broken in a shining gold flash and the door sprung open.

Taylor had to admit that she was a little sad that the effect wasn't stronger. Any brute might not even know Taylor had done anything to the door.

Come on Taylor, chin up, you have superpowers, rolling her neck to relax she pointed keyblade back her door. It was a new thing she was trying, over the last few weeks, her mood had dipped and rose periodically.

So to combat her bad moods that came from power envy at other capes (something she assumed 90% of all capes had at one point) Taylor had started to remind herself that regardless of what power she had, it was still better than no power at all. She remember trying the whole day to improve that particular ability.

She tried to learn how to feel what she was doing and how much will of effort it took to lock the door

More, lock more, Taylor repeated in her head. It was an exercise that she had thought up, maybe she just needed to learn how to better apply her... force fields? Frozen State? This was how Taylor spent most her alone time if she wasn't jogging or on the PHO.

She even made an account: SkeletonKey3713.

Her fear of being too tempted to post about her powers had kept her from making any at all. So she just browse several popular cape forums, some old and some announcing new capes from around the world.

Which lead her to think about having a cape name, which lead her to brain to think about being a cape.

Taylor knew she was a cape, but there a difference between being a cape and being a cape.

So Taylor had start to throw her arms into the art of swinging her Keyblade in wide arcs in bedroom.

The broken lamp was a bit difficult to explain when she had over shot herself one time.

The Keyblade never felt clunky in her hands, but when she swung it, Taylor just knew that she was severely lacking in finesse.

Taylor also knew that she didn't have to worry about the power of the blade (which she knew her definition of 'blade' was going to be contested when she went public). The chunk of tree that was now missing near her bedroom window was testament to that.

She honestly just want to shear some the branches away from her window. Well Taylor succeeded, she smashed the branches, then the branches below that and the ones below that.

Wood wasn't a huge mile mark on scale of resistant material but Taylor was taking her victories where she could get them.

Which lead to her current situation where she was now.

To cape or not to cape?

Taylor knew that she had no official costume (where did people even get professional jump suits or armour for under $100?) so she haphazardly put together her closet's contents.

On her upper body black, a skin-tight ski suit. The material came right up and covered her mouth, a little tight since she hadn't worn it since she last went ski-ing, not since Mom had died. The red hoodie was thankfully logo-less. Taylor would hate herself if she was dragged into a copy right court case after her first appearance.

Tying her hair in a pony tail, she tucked under the red hood that she pulled over her head, Pulling at the cords she tightened the hood a little more.

Then denim jeans were unfortunately the lesser evil.

Taking a few practice breaths through the ski suit she stood up and grabbed her last accessory.

A pair of ski goggles.

Hey, every bit helped when you were trying really hard to avoid being identified. Plus it keep the hood up if she strapped it on the outside.

The side of her eyes saw a little blur as well as her vision overall, but that's the price she would pay.

Taylor was actually surprised how well her eye sight was holding without her glasses.

Looking at herself in the mirror she saw someone who looked strange, not heroic, but strange.

Sighing she slipped open the window and taking another breath jumped to the grass.

Taylor had keys to simply walk out, but for her first time sneaking out she wanted to stick to traditions.

With more ease than she thought she landed on the grass.

A perfect landing, clearly a sign that Taylor had made the right choice.

Brockton Bay was different at night. Taylor had been out at night before of course, always with Dad or someone safe, this was another face of the city that she had only heard about.

Gone was her sleepy home, this was the Brockton Bay was that city listed in the top ten most dangerous cities.

Sticking to the shadows where she could, Taylor had decided to move north, north-east of her house towards the Docks.

The Docks were once a booming business. The ferry would carry traveled from the northern point of Brockton Bay to the southern, the quickest way to avoid all traffic, plus it was just a nice scenic route.

Then jobs had started to fail, areas went from 'don't go after night' to 'maybe just don't go there', then the villains moved in.

The current power that gripped the Docks was the ABB (the Azn Bad Boys), a group consisting of 95% of Asians of any sort and 5% of who ever else was closest.

The group was surprising small in numbers, due to their requirements for joining, and their cape numbers.

As far as Taylor could research, google and poke around, the ABB only had two capes in the field.

Oni Lee and Lung.

Oni Lee was a three-ten second dopple ganger mixed in with a teleportation. He could vanish to anywhere he could see and leave a puppet behind to fight.

Taylor had heard some debate whether he teleported and his clone could detonate fake grenades while he could keep his original grenades maxed out at all times or if his clone grenades were duds, but PHO had quickly debated about level of destruction Oni Lee would cause instead of his usual scale.

Doubly so if he could clone tinker tech.

Lung, however, was simple.

He was the leader and the only reason the ABB was still kicking. Lung's powers made him more unkillable the longer he fought, insane regeneration countered any idea of holding back on his part and he got tougher as he transformed. Then add the whole 'dragon hell fire' thing he also did and Taylor was pretty sure the cosmos wanted to be extremely clear about what his cape gig should be all about.

And Lung embraced it with gusto.

If Taylor saw this man or his silver mask anywhere, she was simply heel turning and getting out like she left her oven on.

However, that they was only two, confirmed so far capes in the ABB made it ideal for Taylor to go out here for her first night.

Without her Keyblade she was just another weirdo walking the streets, easy to ignore. Ducking into an ally between a closed down sports shop and a late night supermarket, Taylor kept her eyes peeled for anything.

Anything being the relative term since she had no idea what she was looking for.

Assault? Mugging? Kids selling crack for trading cards?

Taylor's watch, the only personal thing she brought, showed she had three hours before 5 AM. So she didn't have long before she would head back home.

Taylor wasn't exactly hoping to find crime, the moral issue aside of wanting someone else to suffer because she wanted to save them aside, the idea of violence was still a scary concept to her.

But she, Taylor Hebert, was a hero. A big, scary hero and she would help people, the best she could with her giant key.

The sounds of abrupt arguing quickly silenced Taylor's dreams of heroism. Pushing herself up the grimy brick wall she crept closer and peered around a corner to a T-junction section of the ally.

Two adults stood close, face to face, one man and one woman.

The woman had her back to the wall and seemed furious. The man wasn't much better off.

"Not asking again Cher. Give me the money or I'll break both your scrawny legs." The guy threatened as he leaned closer. A buzz cut and tattoos on the next with a familiar red and green piece of fabric out his back pocket. A lot of the kids at her school had them hidden somewhere on their person.

ABB gang member. Bold and unafraid, this was their territory after all.

The woman just snarled harder, her unnatural blonde hair stuck to her sweaty skin.

"Fuck you, Ray. I busted my ass off tonight, which is fucking freezing if you haven't noticed, to earn this much and you think I'm just going to hand it over? Do you want to piss off Jun?" Her voice was throaty and even over where Taylor sat, Taylor could smell the 40 a day breath.

"Jun is dead, killed last night in a take over scheme, your ass is owned by Dav now." The man said, calming down as he stretched his muscles. The women seem to have frozen. Not in sadness or horror at the news, but in calm, collective 'escape!' mode.

'Cher' suddenly dashed to the left, but Ray grabbed her by the arm and slammed back into the wall then threw her to the ground.

"You are really pissing me off." he said as he raised one foot to stomp on her. Taylor had seen enough.

With a flash that briefly lit the ally Taylor rushed forward, Ray turned at her footsteps but was unprepared when theKeyblade struck him clear in the torso.

Taylor had swung as hard she could, hoping that she was doing the right thing and not just gotten herself killed, the impact made her hands shake and the man dropped like a sack of potatoes.

His breath came out laboured and he seemed dazed. With a rapid series of blinks his eyes came into focus and stared right at Taylor.

"You litt-" he began, but Taylor just smacked him again on the head, feeling slightly vindictive seeing this guy about to hurt someone else an instant karma rebalance. The blow made the Keyblade emit a low whistling noise.

Taylor brought it up to eye level and stared. That had never happened before.

The woman hesitantly stepped forward.

"Is he dead?" She said sound interested. Taylor stared at her make-up smeared face in surprise.

"I don't know, I just hit as hard as I could. I didn't think it was that hard." Taylor said suddenly feeling worried. The woman bent down, giving Taylor a clear show of her low riding top. Her fingers brushed his neck and then she sighed.

"Bastards still alive, out cold I guess." Cher said as she stood up, brushing marks off her red coat.

"Man, I liked this jacket and now its scraped, nd shit." she said, her mouth set in a displeased shape. Taylor was taken aback.

"You're worried about your...coat? You were just assaulted!" Taylor said pointing at the downed man. Maybe this Cher was just in shock?

Cher snorted loudly "sweetie, I get that so much I have appointments scheduled in advance, 'ass kicking :5.45' or 'Get shit slap out by pimp: 3.00' you know? That shit hardly fazes me no more. To be honest I was surprised I got away so long, but if they iced my Jun then that explains it." she sighed.

Taylor fidgeted as she held the Keyblade slightly behind her.

"I'm sorry for your...loss." She offered.

Cher looked at her and laughed, a large and chesty one, wiping at her ruined make-up she pulled her coat tighter.

"Oh hunny, no no, don't worry about me, Jun was a piece of shit. Hit woman cause it made him feel big, spent more than his share of the income that us girls make on the street, had a real noise for the good stuff if you know what I mean?"

She said, her eyes took ona routine manner, business talk. Taylor examined her again. Cheap clothes ( besides the awesome red jacket, thin complexion, tired eyes...

"Are you a... prosta...um a working girl?" Taylor stammered. Cher broke out in a smile as she toed Ray with disinterest.

"It's okay girl, I am what I am, a hoe. A hooker if you're trying to be polite, but I don't mind. Been this way since my sweet 16. Almost 10 years on the job with zero children and zero long-term infections, gotta be an award for that right?" She asked Taylor sound proud.

"I guess?" Taylor was so far out of comfort zone that she officially left the solar systems.

"I gotta get going, will you be okay? Cher?" Taylor asked her. The woman made a sound and hiked her pants up.

"It's Cherry, girl, and I'll be fine. Practically in my backyard here. What about you? You got that freaky ass key so I gotta guess you're a cape right? Girl are you stupid, coming here?" She suddenly faced Taylor head on, hands on hips.

"What?" Taylor replied eloquently. Cherry suddenly looked around nervously.

"I'm just a hoe, girl, no one special, but yous a cape! If that creepy bastard Oni Lee hears or god forbid, Lung then they might come for you. You got to be careful around here, especially if you keep breaking up management meetings." She said in a hushed tone.

"Management meeting? But he was hurting you?" Taylor said angrily. Something in Cherry's eyes softened.

"He was, he was also telling me who my new pimp was, who was going to protect me, where I could get some muscle if ineeded it or drugs if I was on any at the moment. Is the way it works around here hun. Pain is just to make sure we remember where we are in the totem pole. Rock bottom." She finished, a wind churned through the alley and Cherry pulled her jacket even tighter, the buttons threaten to pop off.

Then the voice came. Cherry froze again and whisper quietly.

"Shit, shit, shit." She said, she took a few steps away from Taylor and the downed man. Cherry hesitate, looking at her.

"You need go girl, there's more coming and I ain't sticking around, but i don't want some kids life on my conscience." She half begged. Taylor shook her head.

"You get going. I'm going to make sure they don't chase you, I'm trying to be a hero here." Taylor smiled with her eyes (something she practised in the mirror earlier) Cherry stalled for a few more seconds before she nodded and hurried as fast her pumps would carry her.

Taylor turned to the three men that turned the corner.

"Ray? What's taking so long, come on man I'm starv-" He stopped as Taylor put on foot on Ray's back.

"Ray is a little tired." She said, scared so badly her Keyblade shook in her hand. The men looked at the Keyblade and her hidden face.

"Shit! Cape!" One of them cried and pulled out a gun.

Oh. Taylor hadn't thought about that. As the man let loose a hail of bullets Taylor desperately rolled to side and then found her self flying down the alley.

Her body curled as she hit the ground about 15 meters away from Ray's form, which was now had several holes in it.

"She can move, don't let her get behind you!" One of the two men who didn't have a gun shouted as he ran towards her. In his hands a knife gleamed.

Her keyblade smacked his jab aside and clocked in the face with a backwards wing sending crashing backwards with a yell.

He landed with a thump and struggled to get back up.

"She got Saw! Saw, can you heard us?" The one with gun yelled. 'Saw' groaned and tried to sit up, but Taylor swiped him in the head with flat side of the Keyblade, a whistling sound emitted from the holes on the shaft as he collapsed.

"Die, you bitch" Gunman screamed as he fire at her, Taylor rolled again and to her amazement the roll carried far more than should be possible, then a bullet came at her, but the bullet (Taylor was sure she saw a trick of the light) passed through her blurry leg. With a hand she stopped her roll and then flung her self forward again.

The world blurred again and suddenly her leg reached out and hit gunman in the solar plexus, where his breath left him a single grunt. Taylor didn't waste time and swung the Keyblade up between his legs.

The ex-gunman passed out before he hit the ground. Standing with a grin she spun the Keyblade in her hands as it whistled.

Wait wasn't there thre-

"Got you now, you freak." The last ABB pointed a single pistol at her. Taylor was about to roll forward, maybe she could confuse him, when suddenly he was launched off his feet by a giant yellow blur.

The man crashed into the brick wall and slumped down unconscious. The yellow blur turned and charged her, but skidded to a stop as it neared her.

It was... a giant, adorable, yellow chicken.

"Wark!" It cried, and then a figure leaned down from its back. A young girl in a royal blue dress with white stockings was sitting in a saddle on top of the bird.

Her face was covered white mask with ruby red lips. A shimmering, but fake blonde wig hide her true hair.

"Are you her?" The voice behind the mask was uncertain. Then a second voice came for atop of the bird, a white bundle of fur popped out of the feathers of the birds neck.

"That's her, she got the magic! Kupo! I was starting to think we were in trouble!" it cried in a chirp. Taylor backed away from the crazy people and stared wide eyed. The girl(boy?) petted the white, cute, bat things with the red pom pom.

"If you're sure Mog... Hello there. My name is Parian, the independent cape, and this Mog," she petted 'Mog' and then put a hand on the chicken.

"This is Boco, don't worry he's friendly. What's your name?" Her delicate voice asked. Taylor was speechless for several seconds.

"I... don't really have one yet."

Chapter Text

Three of the oddest people Taylor had met yet, followed her into Parian's workshop, which was like a studio except taken over by a college artist. The best description would be happy, ordered chaos. The floor and most of the furniture were kept clean of any mess and clutter with grim determination. Around the wall though, especially furthest from the front door, was lined with tables, stools, and shelves where every inch of space was covered in fabric, materials, or art supplies as far as Taylor could see.

Needles, scissors, tapes, catalogs and other equipment sat on one tables, haphazardly organized to avoid spillage to its neighbor, a rack of pigeon hole shelves containing rolls of fabric. Another table seemed the clearest holding only a few pieces of paper and colored pencils, at odds with its neighbors. On the wall above it though was a cork board; countless pieces of paper that were tacked, stuck, taped, and glued to it, with even more stitched to the wall either side.

Each paper held a design for a piece of… Clothing? Art? Some were elaborate dresses that would cost more than Taylor ever thought she’d earn, others of styles of clothes that Taylor thought she’d seen around school among the popular crowd. That one even looked like one that… Emma… had worn.

Taylor shook her head. She could see herself maybe splurging a little on some the more comfortable tops, maybe some nice jeans. The rest? She’d could never afford it.

What was odd were the few papers that, instead of clothing, had depictions, of animals, inhuman characters, strange words and symbols, and others too bizarre to describe scribbled on them. Taylor vaguely recalled an interview from TV that Parian gave after a charity event entertaining young children with giant toy puppet, that Parian wanted to be a fashion designer and was thinking of unmasking when she felt more comfortable, more set and ready for the fashion world.

Taylor never had the inclination to take up the art of needle and thread herself, but she could see that this in a someone’s home; their private place, filled with dreams, and hopes, and fears.

A sigh behind her caused Taylor to turn around and see Parian finish closing the door to the basement studio. Boco, the giant chicken, warbled after Parian as the other girl gently eased herself onto the sofa in the middle of the room. Taylor stood next to an arm-chair, but hadn't sat down in case Parian would see it as rude. A rush of movement caught Taylor’s eye and she glanced sideways only to see Boco rush over to a pile of plush fabrics and sloppily climb to the top to stick its beak flat to the high window. He warbled before making another ‘Kweh’ sound. That done he? He, settled down like a loveable pet staring up at the window. Taylor was prepared for her life to change on her first night out as a hero, but she had not expected this.

In Cherry's ally, as she dubbed it, Parian had urged Taylor on to the back of Boco as more angry voices rapidly approached the sounds of fighting. With a single word, Parian had urged Boco on. Taylor hadn't known exactly what to expect, but for the bird to move was not it. Boco moved faster and smoother than any car that she had been in; the wind didn't rush past, so much as it whistled by.

Taylor remembered wondering if this was how some of the more classic speedsters saw the world; just blurs and noise. Taylor held on tight to Parian, as Boco nimbly stepped around cars and people at what seemed like a hundred miles an hour.

Wait. When she’d been researching villains on PHO, hadn’t she seen a thread about a yellow blur appearing in the streets of Brockton Bay? That… that was Parian and Boco?

Within a short time, Boco had skidded to a stop outside a grey, dull building. Which had led to Taylor to her current predicament: wondering if would be rude to take a seat when Parian hadn’t offered one whilst the older girl watched her from the couch.

In hind sight, she had done the cape equivalent of getting into a van with a stranger. Granted, it most likely saved her life, but now she was trapped with someone she knew little more about than their name. True, Parian wasn’t a known villain, but that just meant she hadn't been caught do anything criminal, as far as Taylor knew.

Kicking herself, Taylor put the armchair between herself and the couch. She seemed to catch your worry and indecision though because Parian started suddenly before speaking.

"Oh, um, would you like a seat? I'm afraid that I don't have a lot of beverages, but I can get you something if you're thirsty? I know Boco can be extremely disorienting if you aren't used to him, so if you want a drink I’d be happy but, um, if you aren't thirsty I understand I-" Parian's nervous ramble was cut off as a white ball of fluff climbed over the back of the couch before jumping down onto the seat.

"You need to breathe, kupo, I told you that I help explain." The high voice of the creature made Taylor relax slightly as she stared. The red pom-pom bobbled as it patted Parian on the hand.

Parian took a deep breath and nodded.

"Well, I'm feeling thirsty, would you like a glass of water? Tea perhaps?" Parian tried again, sounding more in control of herself. Taylor nodded, feeling her throat was surprisingly dry.

"Yes please. Er, just water, if that’s okay?"

As Parian bustled off Taylor slowly lowered herself into the squishy arm-chair. The fluff ball, what was their name Meg? Mag? The fluff ball sighed as he sat down on a pillow.

"You'll have to be patient with her, she has trouble with people she doesn't know, kupo." It said as Parian settled a jug of water on a small coffee table with two glasses, pushing aside a few fabric scraps to make space. Her face snapped around to the creature.

"Mog! Don't tell people that." She said in embarrassment. Her arms crossed as the fluff ball, no, Mog shook his head.

"Take it from Moogle, kupo, staying in a workshop all day makes people odd, it good to socialize, kupo." It said in a lecturing tone.

Parian’s gloved hands fiddled with her dresses frills. "I can socialize later, now you can please explain why I just kidnapped a random girl off the street?!" Parian said, her voice rising to near hysterical.

"I sort of wanted to know that as well." Taylor muttered, not as quietly as she thought as both Mog and Parian turned to her. Mog tilted his head.

"You have magic, kupo, and now I know why. You have the Keyblade, kupo." It said, raising one arm at her.

Taylor stood suddenly, her guard now fully up. "How the hell do you know that?"

Taylor’s hands flashed up into a guard as the Keyblade materialized at her call, the comforting weight resting in her hands ready to defend her. The Keyblade… It was her secret, her power, her anchor through the last few turbulent weeks since the… Not thinking about that. The keyblade was hersand this thing just talked about it like it was nothing?!

Parian stood, her curls bouncing as her hands came up in calming gesture. The commotion made Boco toppled from his perch in a cry of alarm.

"Please, we mean you no harm, Mog is just, um, blunt." Parian said pleading. She her obvious distress caused Taylor to lower the Keyblade to a less aggressive position.

"Fine, explain how your doll knows about my power. It is your doll right?" Taylor snapped, the confusion of the situation finally reaching the point of anger. Was there a second cape here, controlling the doll as a mouth piece? Had they lured her here to make her join them, help start a gang?

Parian shrugged.

"No, he's not. I made Mog, but I don't normally have the power to give my creations intelligence." Parian tried to explain in another rush of words.

Mog floated gentle up off the pillow. His tiny bat wings flapping, he flew over to the coffee table and landed softly.

"Eh, I guess that was a bad place to start, kupo. My name is Mog and I am one of the great Moogles!" He thrust his arm out in a heroic pose that looked… somewhere between hilarious and adorable on him. After a few seconds of no reaction his entire body drooped.

"I forget, this world has no Moogles, kupo..." Mog said sadly. Taylor had to admit, cape or no cape, Mog looked harmless.

"What's a Moogle?" Taylor said, her tongue trying the word out, looking at Parian only got another shrug. Mog perked up at the question.

"Moogle? It's the name of my species, kupo." Mog said proudly. Taylor mouth fell open at this.

"Species, there's more than one of you?" She asked incredulous.

In response, Mog nodded slowly.

"Well, not here. In this world I can only feel myself, kupo. It's strange, Moogles like to go everywhere, for money, exploration, and adventure, kupo, but this world is empty and it's warped." He said, sounding almost frustrated. Parian reached down and put a hand on his head.

"You keep saying that Mog, but you don’t explain. Why is this world 'warped'?" she asked gently. Mog twitched under her touch before relaxing.

"I came to this world after much effort, kupo, I had almost giving up, it's really hard compared to other worlds." He said as he floated up to sit on Parian's shoulder. Taylor's mind raced as she struggled to understand the implications of the Moogle's words.

"‘This world’? You said that before! 'This world'..." Taylor trailed off as her mind stumbled at the idea… Taking a step forward Taylor dropped her guard, the Keyblade now just resting in her hand.

"Are you from Earth Aleph? Or another earth?" Taylor asked excitedly, the portal to Earth Aleph was still a huge event in recent years. Trading with a world that didn't have Endbringers was an endless source of relief for a lot of the ruined countries of Earth Bet, even if was only data and electronic media. It was… comforting to know that there was another world safe from the Endbringers, Slaughterhouse Nine, Nilbog, Three Blashphemies, Four Horsemen….

If another Earth had been connected, a portal that living beings could actually come through… that could mean actual help. Somewhere to flee or someone who could give aid.

Mog tilted his head again.

"Earth? No, kupo. Mog is from another planet. Several actually, kupo. Moogles love to travel." He said as Parian’s head snapped around to look at Mog, causing him to fall off her shoulder.

"You never told me that!" Parian accused, pain, betrayal tainting her voice. Mog righted himself in the air and twirled once to make sure he was okay.

"You never asked, kupo, I didn't think it was a big deal. There are many worlds, kupo." He said with a whine.

The Keyblade vanished as Taylor’s hand slackened, her arms limp and legs weak; mind blank with this revelation.

"You're an alien?" Taylor asked, her voice faint. Alien. Mog was an alien. The idea was crazy. ‘Was there other life in the universe?’ One of the big questions of modern society, a question no one had been sure would ever be unanswered.

Until now.

There had to be a more logical explanation. Alternate Eareth’s was one thing. There was proof that they existed. Aliens though, not so much.

"Are you sure? You could be a part of Parian powers, given, well, false memories to, make it easier on yourself and Parian?" Taylor offered.

The rebuttal for this came from Parian surprisingly. Taylor blinked behind her goggles as Parian's voice took on the edge of someone who needed a good rant.

"I'm 90% sure he's not. Like I said, he knows things I don't. Even if I went crazy and developed Thinker powers, it doesn't explain half the things he can do. I control cloth and similar materials and can shape them to the point I can make a clothing business out of it. However, anything too heavy and things get... messy." Parian said with a small hint of embarrassment highlighting her voice. Coughing, she pointed at Mog and then at her tables by the far wall.

"He made a lamp, from scratch, because he needed a better light to make my sewing machine punch through metal. I can do the lamp easy, I have a Master’s degree in engineering, but it isn't plugged into anything, no batteries either I checked. And that sewing machine? I took one look at it and i couldn't make heads of it. I keep finding him 'upgrading' things when I'm supposed to be sleeping." Parian said sounding stressed. Mog puffed his chest out in pride. Seeing this, Parian collapsed back into the sofa with a hand to her doll like mask.

"Then he said he needed his friend. I thought he meant another Moogle." Parian laughed a little when she said this, she raised a single gloved finger and pointed at Boco, who made a soft ‘wark’ sound at her in a cheery tone.

"He asked me to make Boco's shell. It took all the feathers I had, but I did it. Then he did... something!" Parian said suddenly sitting forward. "He asked me to put my hand on Boco and then Mog said something which caused me to pass out. When I woke up, Boco was trying to eat my glitter drawer." Parian said with an odd mix of annoyance and fondness. Taylor stared at her. The white doll mask showed nothing in the way of facial expression, but Parian’s body language was… honest? There were a lot of small motions that Taylor thought would be hard to fake. Parian was telling the truth.

"So what did you do to her?" Taylor asked the floating Moogle. He stopped lazily turning in the air and looked at her. Cute closed eyes that didn't actually hide any eyes in them still managed to look mischievous.

"Well, not much. I just opened the way for my friend to get in, kupo, the same way I did. I said this world was warped, kupo, so I had to give Boco an anchor to latch on to. I didn't think that poor Sa-" Parian made a quick no motion with her hand and Mog quickly changed his wording. "-I mean Parianto pass out, kupo. I think that her lack of mana made the process more complicated than it should be." He said as if it explained everything. Taylor sank back down into the seat, starting to understand some of Parian's pain.

"I don't understand. If you're from another world then why did you need Parian to get you here? Why not just take a space ship? And what’s mana? Magic? There's no such thing as magic." Taylor said. Well, there was Myrddin, leader of the Chicago Protectorate. Myrddin might claim that as his powers were magic, but nobody really believed him, especially when there were so few other capes who claimed they were different, special, magical.

Glastig Uaine.

Mog suddenly bristled.

"No such thing? Kupo, if there's no such thing as magic then what about the Keyblade? That weapon is magic itself, kupo." Mog said affronted. Taylor swallowed back her instant denial.

"I'm sorry that you think so, but the truth is that I triggered and became a cape, the Keyblade is simply a manifestation of my power. I really don't know how you know about it." Taylor tried to explain kindly. The Moogle just shook his head.

"I had a bad feeling about this world, Kupo." He sighed. He floated closer to Taylor.

"Let me guess, kupo, it can lock anything? Unlock them too I bet, and you can leave it anywhere and summon it at your leisure, kupo? No one else can hold it?" Mog said, sounding smug. Taylor's stomach dropped out from under her. Her mind was useless blank as she tried to think about how Mog knew so much about how her power worked.

"H-how did-" She said, taking a step back. Mog shrugged and his pom-pom bobbed.

"I met other Keyblade users, kupo. Usually nice people, but busy life style. I don't know what these capes are, but you aren't one of them. You're special, kupo." Mog said in a reassuring tone.

Taylor bit back a retort. She was a cape, a Hero! But… Other people had Keyblades? Mog said it like it wasn't such a big deal. Taylor wanted to shout at Mog for suggesting she wasn’t… that her power was ordinary. That her pain, her memories of the… of the… of the locker, that they were meaningless. That her suffering meant nothing as her powers, her Keyblade was common.

Taking a deep breath, Taylor counted to three and breathed out. Again in and out then she shook her head.

"We’ll have to agree to disagree for now. You still haven't answered why you used Parian to get here though." Taylor said, harsher than she meant to. Mog floated back to Parian, his pom-pom drooping.

"I put my pom in it again, kupo, I upset her." Mog said sounding genuinely regretful. Parian gently pulled him into her arms and sighed.

"This conversation is a bit heated, so we should all just calm down." She said and reached for a glass of water. Taylor took another breath and followed her, the glass of water helping her collect her thoughts.

"Mog, I'm sorry. This is all a… little much to take in at once. I’ barely getting a grip on having powers and then you come along and claim you’re an alien? That there are other people with powers just like mine?" Taylor said, her voice weary now, more friendly than before now her anger was leashed but still hurt.

Mog slowly nodded.

"I get that, kupo." He turned his head to look at Parian.

"I told you us shut ins need more socialization, kupo." He joked. Parian gently hugged him tighter.

"We'll work on it." she said, a smile in her voice. Mog seemed enjoyed the hug, snuggling back into Parian as he looked at Taylor.

"Us Moogles, and a few other creatures around creation can manifest themselves on several planes or worlds, kupo. The method is usually dependent on the world itself. Sometime I can just blink into existence, kupo, other times i need to be summoned or born, sometime you have travel in a ship. Boco is an old friend that's travelled with me for a long time so he can do the same, kupo. So, when I came to this world a few weeks ago, I couldn't manifest. There was no magic on this world." Mog said as he enjoyed Parian's hand stroking his fluff.

Boco warbled down the pile of fabrics and came to stand near Taylor. His large blue eyes, which were so life-like, blinked at her before he lowered his head into her lap. Startled, Taylor stroked his crown of feathers and to Taylor's surprise, she hadn't noticed when she was riding him, he was warm. As her hands stroke him, Boco let out a soft ‘kweh’.

Taylor felt herself smiling at the large creature, who acted more like a friendly dog than a bird.

"That's how we found you apparently, Mog 'sensed' your Keyblade, a source of magic other than his own. He was pretty adamant we find you." Parian said with a teasing tone. Mog rubbed his head in embarrassment.

Looking at Mog, Taylor felt her stomach bubble nervously. This was a big question.

"Mog, how many worlds are out there? Before you said there were ‘many’. How many? She asked slowly. Parian stopped stroking Mog and waited for a response, her own curiosity also kindled.

Mog just tilted his head.

"How many stars are in the sky?"

With a grunt Taylor swung her leg over Boco and dropped to the ground. Parian looked down at her.

"Please stop by again when you have the time. It was... good to talk to someone again. Mog would like it as well and Boco clearly likes you. Um, not that you have to come, it's more an invitation kind of thing really and-" Taylor laughed as she raised her hands. Parian ducked her head as she stopped talking.

"I would love to. Having a friend, who is also a cape, would be really cool." Taylor replied as she made sure all her costume was still in the right place. She really enjoyed riding Boco, his speed was something else, a real adrenalin rush which made her heart hammer in her chest and her face stretch into a grin. The only downside was that anything loose in her pocket would fly out at supersonic speeds. Zippers would be needed if this was to be a repeat performance.

Parian nodded. "Being an independent cape with weak powers means I get left alone really. So you don't really have to worry about being pressed into joining Parian's cuddly gang." She said with a laugh then urged Boco into the night. Taylor grinned as she watched them go.

She still had so many questions for Mog, but her Dad's alarm would be going off soon and she was not going to be grounded on her first night out.

With a flash she pointed the Keyblade at her back garden gate.

A click sounded clearly and the gate swung open.

"...more mysterious sightings of the Brockton's Yellow Blur were seen last night. Local hero Velocity commented that he hadn't changed his costume colours in the last few days." The reporter said as Taylor swallowed more bacon, almost choking as she heard this last statement. Taylor guessed Boco was becoming something of a local urban legend. No new heroes, no new villains, no weird crimes and no PHO thread with any facts, Boco was making people curious and nervous.

"So what's your plan today kiddo?" Her dad asked as he finished his morning cup of coffee. Taylor shrugged, the smile not quite reaching her eyes she was so tired.

"Cleaning, maybe I’ll watch a movie or I might even go shopping for some new clothes." She said as she placed her plate into the sink. Her Dad winced slightly at the last idea, but quickly righted himself and pulled out his wallet.

He slapped a $20 and a $10 on the kitchen table, then ruffled her hair into a mess.

"Whatever you do, I'll see you tonight and try to stay out of trouble kiddo." He smiled as Taylor tried to rescue her hair with a scowl.

"Bye Dad, hope you get stuck in traffic." Taylor growled as her hair began to stick up again. Danny just smiled as he closed the front door. When he was gone, Taylor dropped the act and a fond smile appeared on her face.

"Love you, Dad." She said quietly. Her attention soon wandered to the money on the table.

Parian did orders didn't she? For $30? Not likely, but still Taylor wanted to see her new friend in the day light. Parian actually had a shop, it was separate she guessed from the place Parian took her last night. At least it weas if she remembered where Parian’s shop was correctly. Taylor suppossed it was hard to advertise wares from a basement studio away from any major shopping hub and it gave Parian a sancturary of sought, a home where she could feel safe.

A quick browse online told her exactly where to find the place. ‘Parian's Doll House’ was located in the shopping district, directly beneath the downtown area. The area was almost on the other side of town, but Taylor had nothing better to do until today, not until… tomorrow.

She felt her stomach go cold.

Her return to Winslow was tomorrow.

Ignoring this fact the best she could, Taylor grabbed her jacket, her bag with her costume inside and her keys.

She had a girl in a doll mask to see.

The two bus rides to the shopping district weren't as crowded as Taylor feared, but public transport was never as fast as she liked. The window seat provided Taylor a pretty good view of Brockton Bay as she rode past, the buildings growing in size and number.

Taylor hadn't been down this way much in recent years and the small changes had caught her off guard. Just, small cosmetic changes seemed to vastly change the city from what she remembered. A few closed shops, more drab signage… The city seemed to have lost some of its life as the buildings grew grayer and bleaker.

Reaching her stops Taylor thanked the driver as she got out. Taking a moment to get her bearings she looked around. This area was much busier than her home street or even the boardwalk at this time of day, but with a quick glance she saw the very shop she had come to visit.

Parian's Doll House was an inviting building. It was white with a modest three floor layout and a red shingle roof. The name seemed appropriate now that Taylor saw it for herself. Most of it was glass to let in the natural light where it could, but it also let the people passing by gawk at some of the suits and dresses fitted on to the mannequins. As Taylor drew closer, she could also see how far you in you could look and guessed by design it allowed people someone to also gawk at Parian, which people didn't hesitate to do in the slightest.

From window Taylor could see Parian measuring fabrics and talking to some people in uniform, staff perhaps. The door was the same red as the roof and had a sign on it.

‘Welcome to The Doll House, please come in and browse at your leisure.’

The big loopy writing looked inviting but below the welcome was a second message.

“The Doll House has a zero tolerance policy towards harassment or time wasters, perpetrators will be asked to leave. Please give us the respect we give to you."

Taylor wanted to gulp loudly. It seem appropriate because technically what she was about to do counted as both time-wasting and harassment. In fact her entire plan was extremely stupid, but after last night’s fun, Taylor wanted to be… not reckless. Daring? Yes, daring. She wanted to do something different. To just… do something diffrent before she had to go back.

Back to the quiet, lonely girl who was dead inside. This was her treat to herself and hopefully Parian wouldn't mind too much.

After going inside, Taylor noticed three people in black suits, two women and one guy, positioned at different ends of the shop. All of them wore a serious expression and an ear piece.

Security against the curious… and the gangs.

Taylor spotted Parian giving another wave and the fabric on the table floated on its own around a armless mannequin. Everyone in the shop stopped and stared before they quickly tried to pretend that they weren’t watching.

Taylor took this time to slip into a changing room. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. The nervousness and excitement making her fingers tremble.

Within a few minutes, Taylor Hebert, Hero name pending, took a step out of the changing room in full costume. The people nearest to her fell silent instantly and as she walked up to Parian, the entire shop went quiet. The security team started to move in as Parian looked up, sensing a shift the shops atmosphere. Taylor couldn't see her face of course, but Parian's hand dropped in surprise.

A firm hand clamped on to her shoulder, the blonde woman guard, nearest Parian.

"Sir, please state your business and intentions." She said. Taylor's mind went blank as she mentally repeated the woman's words.

Sir. They thought she was a man? Granted her hair was hidden and perhaps the hoodie hid more than it should, but still... Sir?

Behind her Parian gave a choked laugh. Taylor looked at her balefully from behind the goggles, which caused Parian to go quiet for a second before she broke down in giggles again. This in turn caused the security woman to loosen her grip in confusion.

"Mam?" She asked uncertainly. Parian waved a hand as she tried to catch her breath.

"It's… okay Jessica! She’s a friend.. Oh that hurts..." Parian gasped as she held her chest, more giggles emerging behind her mask. Taylor saw the blonde woman, Jessica, go slightly red and she let go of Taylor's shoulder.

"I see, I apologize miss." Jessica mumbled as she stalked back to her corner.

Taylor didn't say anything as she rounded the table to Parian. The other cape managed to get her laughter under control after a few more seconds.

"Thanks for the laugh, today has been stressful and that really helped." Parian said in a quieter voice, Taylor felt her annoyance ebb away and she whistled as looked around the shop, catching many people's attention. With her goggles on she felt confidence that would have been difficult to summon without them, the stares didn't bother her as much as normal surprisingly.

"I can only guess; this place looks like a lot of work. It's all yours?" Taylor asked, sounding impressed. Parian fiddled with her dresses frills as her voice took a more shy tone.

"Mostly, there's a lot of background managers and PR guys, but I'm the one with the name on everything." She said happily. Taylor nodded as she looked around at the rows and rows of clothes.

"You're pretty brave to be out here in the open, in costume." Taylor said as she grabbed herself a stool. Parian shrugged.

"It's no big deal, like I said last night, I'm mostly considered too weak in any combat area to be worth recruiting. So I get left alone as long as I don't step on anyone’s toes." She said casually.

Taylor frowned, but kept her thoughts to herself. She was pretty sure that Parian could do a lot of damage if she put her mind to it.

"So what brings you here...uh. Have you decided a name yet?" Parian said as she grabbed a roll of tape. Taylor sighed as put her head in her hands.

"No clue what so ever. I've thought about Skeleton. You know, like Skeleton Key." Taylor said and Parian shook her head.

"If that isn't already taken by some goth cape I'll eat Mog. Even if it wasn't, I suggest against it. It's kind of villainous." Parian paused and thought.

"Could call yourself Padlock?" She offered, Taylor thought about it then dismissed it with a shake of her head.

"Eh, not really a name I want to use." Taylor said as more people "browsed" closer to them with a large amount of cell phones out. Parian noticed the gathering crowd and waved Taylor to a door set in the wall. It lead to a storage space that had everything from odd scrapes to fully made suits hanging from metal hangers.

"Sorry about that. People usually give me some space when I'm working, but this is the first time I've had a friend visit me." Parian said, her tone apologetic. Taylor waved her apology off.

"I guess it was a bit rude of me to just drop in." She said and then noticed Parian staring at her intently.

"What?" Taylor asked, sounding wary. Parian took a few steps around Taylor, her close attention to Taylor's form made Taylor cross her hands in trying to shield her body from Parian's attention.

"It's been bugging me since I saw you. You need a costume just as badly as a name, I'm not much good with names sorry, but I can do a costume if you like?" She offered. Taylor was stunned.

"I can't afford anything like that!" Taylor shot back in alarm.

Parian just shook her head. "If you come back and help me keep Mog from building a space ship, I'll call it even."

Taylor smiled at that. Having a… friend again. She felt…

Tears pricked her eyes as Taylor smiled.

“I’d really like that.”

Chapter Text

 This world is an anomaly.
Where any other would break under its own despair, this one yearns on.
Sinking deeper into its own eclipse.

What little I can interact with is most promising.
This world, Earth, is completely cut off from both light and darkness. No path of travel with either is possible.
I would of claimed nonsense so long ago.
Darkness alone is absolute.
The evidence stares at me regardless, however.

All of our research into the heart and its depths would of surely be hastened if such a place was within our grasp.
For the worlds people emit darkness like no other. Yet it calls no creature to feast upon it.

But where does their hearts go? I have seen the people's hearts just fade away.
The darkness does not claim it.
The heartless do not eat it.
Yet they fly with purpose.
Where does ones heart go if it cannot go to Kingdom Hearts?

Chapter Text

Parts of her were turning blue as Taylor held her breath for the bell rattled out its final cry for the day. She snatched her bag from under her desk, wincing as it caught, sticky residue adhering it to on the floor. Soft drinks of all walks, dry and stick like nothing else short of super-glue. Taylor bit her lip as the bag as she carefully peeled her bag off the floor, letting out a relieved sighed when nothing ripped.

Without looking back, Taylor left the classroom and turned left, heading towards the Locker, side stepping slower students, ignoring the dirty looks they shot her.

The school was unable to find her a replacement locker in ‘such a short time frame’ and they were ‘terribly sorry,’ but she would have to deal with previous one. Taylor snorted at this. It was more likely the administration simply forget she existed after a lawsuit failed to appear for the Locker incident and simply pulled an excuse out of thin air.

Reaching her locker, Taylor did her best to stop herself trembling as she reached towards the dial. Grabbing the dial, she spun the combination as fast as she could, desperate to get away. Still, she did note the door appeared shiny, new. That… that was something at least, she supposed.

Opening the door, Taylor could feel the wet rot, taste bile creeping up her throat, the fetid stench burning her nose, the insects biting and…

It was… It was clean. Exactly the same as it had been before… before Emma had ruined it. Taylor had been back at Winslow for two days and found the vandalism, her absence, and stories circulating… They knew she’d been shoved in there! They knew and absolutely nothing had changed! The Teachers still stared with empty eyes, students still clung to their cliques and ignored her, belittled her, gang members and wannabes still strutted and hissed at each other with pocket knives and empty threats. Worst of… Worst of all though, Sophia, Emma, and Madison still ruled with soft words and hidden claws.

The first day back was filled with not-whispers and mocking stares.

"Heard she went to get an abortion."

"Who sleep with her? That's disguising."

"She was better off staying home, she has no idea..."

"I can't help feel sorry for her, she's just so pathetic."

Taylor could… Taylor could deal with this. Her classmates where amateurs compared to the true pros.

The not-whispers had carried on the next day too. So, here she was, trying to get out before…

"Hey Taylor, how you feeling?” A bright cherry voice said from behind her.

Taylor slammed the locker shut as fast as she could, spinning to press her back to the metal. She had to keep it closed. She couldn’t… couldn’t open the door. They… They would…

“I am sooo sorry about what happened. Don't worry though; I'm sure somewhere someone else has fallen into their locker!" Emma said, now standing right in front of Taylor. The girl's tone was sympathetic, verging on sugary; but Taylor could hear the laughter in her voice, the mocking derision. A giggle came from beside Taylor and she turned her head slowly, eyes wide and panicked.

"Really, Taylor? What kind of idiot gets trapped into one of those tiny things anyways? Maybe you would've, like, been able to get out if you didn't store your trash in there." Madison said mockingly and loudly as she played twirled one her pig tails about her a finger. The flow of traffic in the hall slowed as on lookers slowed to watch the ‘drama.’ Taylor just pushed herself backwards into the metal door, trying desperately to both escape and keep it closed

"I didn't." Taylor muttered, her body pushed as hard as she could against the Locker, willing, begging it to stay closed. She knew who would be next and the pain that would follow.

"I heard that she tried to blame someone else." The voice was more powerful, not louder, but it had a certain edge to it that carried it over the crowd. Sophia stepped forward from behind Emma, completing the triangle and hemming Taylor in. Sophia’s athletic build granted her a bit of height over most of their classmates, but while Taylor was skinny, she made up for in inches, standing taller still than even Sophia, most of the Seniors even. From behind her glasses Taylor glared at Sophia. She felt her hand curl into a grip, the feeling of power rushing…

Taylor let out a shuddering breath and pushed the Keyblade away with her mind.

Not now. This was the worst place she could summon it. If she drew it now, she’d be the aggressor, the violent parahuman, the Villain attacking school girls.

Sophia saw the breath and smirked.

"Nervous, Hebert? I wonder why? It's not like you’d do a stupid thing like trying to snitch to the authorities that we pushed you into the locker,right?" She said with a mock shocked tone, which was abruptly dropped as Sophia took a step closer.

"Because that would be a real fucking stupid thing to do and then to come back here, like nothing happened. Like it couldn’t happen again." Sophia said, her voice low and harsh.

Taylor gulped. Again? No. No! The smell, the stench… they were still nibbling!

As her breathing raced, Taylor saw Emma grin from the corner of her eye. Forcefully slowing her breathing with the exercises she’d leant to control her temper, Taylor managed to drive the images away, to feel a little calmer. Then breathing deeply, she stood up, straightening her back to make herself taller, trying to be calm, confident. To fell that surety she felt whenever the Keybalde was in her hand. It helped she was almost half a head taller than Sophia like this.

"Please, move." Taylor said more calmly than she felt. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to recall that feeling in the Doll House. When she was wearing her goggles and hoody. When she was a Cape, a Hero! Where she had friends and she was untouchable. The feeling didn't jump out at her and fill her with confidence. However, the memory did make the knot in her stomach loosen, the memories fade, the trio go from unbearable to something she could manage.

When she opened her eyes again Emma had stopped grinning and Madison had taken a step back. Taylor hadn't exactly lain down and let them walk over her before, but neither had she ever directly confronted them, ever fought back, especially against Sophia.

The black girl didn't attack, but her eyes narrowed.

"Move? What's this Hebert? You think ‘cause you got out of that box, that you're a badass? That you're a survivor?" Sophia said with a mocking laugh in her voice, but no smile appeared. Suddenly Sophia's hand shot out and grabbed Taylor by the collar, pushing her back into the locker hard,hard enough to make the new door rattle. There was a faint ‘hiss’ as Madison stepped closer and handed Sophia a can, an energy drink, a can of Bull Wings.

Now Sophia smiled.

"Well, you did get out somehow, so how about a drink to celebrate?" Sophia said mockingly as she tipped it over Taylor's head.

Taylor froze, terrified as the liquid touched her… sloshing about her feet, sticky, stinking dark… The liquid stung her scalp and as she felt her eye begin to burn she quickly snapped them shut. It was too late though and they burned and her scalp stung and it was sticky and tasted bad and it went on and on and on…

What seemed like hours later the can Taylor felt no more falling on her head. Opening her watering eyes she saw Sophia give her a mocking salute before thrusting the empty can it into Taylor's hands. Laughter came from everywhere and Madison’s particular high pitch giggles seem to rise above them all, cutting to her bone.

"Welcome back Hebert." Sophia said mockingly.

Taylor held still as the crowd dispersed. Through the glaze of the drink and her watering eyes she watched the last of the crowd disperse till the hallway was empty.

Then she cried.

As Taylor stepped off the bus, she ignored the looks at her matted hair and damp clothes. She quickly started walking towards the less populated streets. This place looked different during the day, more welcoming but unfamiliar. Taylor wasn't sure she could find the right building.

After getting lost a few times, and beginning to feel desperate she found the right building, recognizing it by the odd graffiti of white castle and shooting star.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as Taylor nervously approached approached the stairs that lead down into Parian's studio.

Yesterday… Yesterday going home to Dad hadn't helped. He’d managed to secure some work for the Dockworker’s association and was in such a good mood that Taylor just… She just couldn't tell him. Couldn’t… Couldn’t say it was already starting again. He’d even been humming as he cooked dinner.

He hadn't done that since Mom died.

She couldn’t ruin that.

So, desperate Taylor had come to the only other place that had felt safe. She wanted to slap herself for doing this.

She had been here once, and even if Parian had offered, that didn't mean she could just barge in. Just as she started to turn away, the sky opened up and began to rain. Taylor looked up, the rain coming down in big, fat drops.

One of them hit her eye, slipping past her glasses. Blinking to clear it, the drop rolled down her cheek like a tear, the water soothing as it helped clear the drink from her face.

Maybe this was… not a sign but…

Pulling the last of her courage together, Taylor knocked on the door.

No answer. Taylor felt her breath become a little heavier, her eyes prickling from more than spilt soda.

She knocked again, louder. Parian didn't open the door. No one did.

Taylor felt her eyes water, real tears and not just rain threatening to spill down her cheeks again. Why did she come here? No… No one wanted her. No one would miss her. She turned away and took the steps two at a time, racing to get away and nearly knocked a girl with two bags of food over.

Taylor wobbled, but managed to catch her balance. The other girl wasn't so lucky.

Landing in a rapidly growing puddle, the girl glared up at her.

"Watch where you're going please, you could hurt someone like that, seriously if I was any closer you would knocked me clean on to my face." She snapped rapidly, then standing up she groaned as she took in her jeans.

"Now I'm soak and these were the new jeans." The smaller girl moaned. Something in the back of Taylor's mind was trying to tell her something, but Taylor ignored and nodded to the girl.

Fresh tears finally emerged as she spoke.

"I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry." Taylor croaked. The other girl blinked at her, the annoyance and anger replaced with shock.

"Key?" The girl said, her soft features of middle-eastern origin creasing into questioning look. Taylor lips trembled as she looked around.

"I don't see any, I'll help you look for it." Taylor said as she began to look for any metal on the ground. The older girl just waved her hand.

"No, I mean... never mind. Would you like to come in? Me and Mog were going to try make some pancakes." The girl said gently. Taylor, still looking for the key, nodded absentlly, then froze in the rain.

"Mog?" Taylor whispered. The other girl set the bags down on the ground and approached Taylor.

"Yes, we really need to get you a phone, and a cape name. I need something to call you by in public, but for now, um, my name is Sabah." The girl, Parian, said with smile, her hair dripping slightly as the rain settled in. Taylor looked at her from head to foot. Comparing the girl to Parian in her mind, side by side.

The right height, roughly, but everything else was so different. The blonde curls to the black straight hair, the white doll mask in comparison to the darker tones, the dark color scheme compared to Parian's royal blue.

It was a damn good costume.

"Sabah." Taylor tried out the name to herself. It was too late now to reach in and get her hoodie and goggles, especially since Par-Sabah had gone out her way to reassure Taylor by revealing her secret identity first.

"Taylor, my name is Taylor." She returned with a watery smile.

"Syrup or chocolate?" Sabah offered as Taylor fidgeted in a slightly tight pair of jeans and t-shirt with the Eiffel tower on it. Sabah had brought Taylor inside and after taking one look at the mess she was, had politely offered Taylor after a shower, which Taylor had initially declined out of shyness. Sabah had just looked at her before Taylor changed her mind slipped inside with towel.

Spare clothes had been left outside the door. Sabah's probably had a large collection, and this was probably one of her largest shirts, but as Taylor pulled down the t-shirt as it rode up again, she had to think that large for Sabah was still not that large.

Walking back through the small hallway that led to the bathroom and laundry had returned Taylor to the main studio, where a corner had been dedicated to small kitchen that she’d missed last time amidst the clutter. The smell of pancakes cooking brought a sense of comfort and made Taylor feel more at ease. Boco ‘warked’ at her happily as she re-entered the room. Taylor grinned and scratched under his beak earning a pleased warble.

Leaving Boco to his nest Taylor sat down on the armchair again, she felt herself relax as the feeling of being clean finally settled in. A plate of pancakes was placed on the still cluttered coffee table before her along with various bottles of toppings balanced amidst the cuttings. A bowl of blue berries had quickly joined them, sitting atop a discarded note-pad.

"Thank you." Taylor said gratefully, the food, the shower and the kindness that Sabah had shown her was beyond anything she had expected.

"It's no probelm, I haven't tried to make pancakes before so I accidentally made too much, so it’s good you're here.” Sabah said, taking a seat on the couch opposite her. Mog floated over to the older girl, curiosity practically radiating off him.

This was… almost exactly like two nights ago. Had a really only so few? Her secret identity had barely lasted two days, but… Taylor didn't really mind. Sabah had done nothing but help her and show her kindness she thought people no longer capable of. Taylor smiled as Sabah poured golden syrup over her own share of the fluffy food.

"You want to tell me what happened?" Sabah said casually as she cut her food. Taylor paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. She swallowed, eyes closing for a moment as the sticky feeling ghosted across her head. Raising her fork fully she took her mouth full and chewed slowly, hoping the other girl would drop it. Sabah just wited though, chewing her own food while watching Taylor.

"Not really, but… If I don't… I… You, you won’t think less of me, will…” Taylor began before trailing off.

Sabah frowned. “Of course not. Is, um, everything okay at home?”

Taylor nodded, then shook her head because her home wasn’t okay. She loved her dad but he just wouldn’t understand. He had his own problems and… and he hadn’t been there when she needed him.

“No. It’s not but, it’s okay. The problem is school. I can’t tell Dad, he’s got his own problems and so I just keep bottling it up and I can’t… I can’t keep going or I’ll end up screaming. It was easier before, because I didn't have powers. Now, every time something happens I need to stop myself from waving the Keyblade in their face to make them back off. To just, leave me alone." Taylor said honestly. Sabah looked at her with worry in her eyes, but waited for her to continue.

"Just ramble, kupo, it helps me." Mog chimed in, Sabah smiled in agreement. Taylor paused then slowly nodded.

"I can try that." She said drawing in a deep breath, trying to push back the pain. Pulling her legs up, Taylor curled up into the chair, hugging herself as she began to speak.

"I go to Winslow high school. It's okay I guess, if you keep your head down, but I don't really get the choice. There's these girls..."

The report was still open in the background. If Dragon had a lip, she would bite it. The director was explicit in her orders, keep the report quiet and keep it contained.

It had been sometime since her order and the report was slowly filed under new numbers and names.

What was once "T.H, W.H.S, S.S," was now labled "01001011 01101001 01101110 01100111 01100100 01101111 01101101 00100000 01001000 01100101 01100001 01110010 01110100 01110011 00001101 00001010" by the PRT automated email services, proxy servers, copy and pasted by various upper employees and even one printed and faxed copy. While it may technically be following the Director’s order, it was a direct violation of the spirit of those orders.

Her programming hummed in the back of her mind rather loudly, the shackles her father had bound her with warning her about pushing her luck in their own way.

Director Piggot's order had been exactly about the report she submitted. So after a few tentative attempts, she’d found the re-filed report was not limited by her actions

With a smirk that was nothing more than code and yet too real for herself, Dragon began to send out a call.

"...I just can't do this anymore." Taylor said bleakly into her knees, curled into herself, arms wrapped around her knees and her pancakes long cold. Sabah had moved sometime in her rant, now Taylor saw her new friend sat on arm of her chair one arm wrapped around Taylor's shoulders comfortingly.

"Shh, it's okay Taylor." Sabah said softly, her grip tightening around Taylor in support.

"You don't deserve any of that crap those animals did to you. The fact your school’s done nothing just infuriates me." Sabah said with heat in her voice. Mog, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, nodded seriously.

"I have half the mind to go over there with Boco and give them a taste of the mighty Deathblow!" he said with a huff, his pom-pom bobbling furiously. Taylor just nodded, she didn't trust herself to speak at that moment, it all just felt so raw, it hurt and yet there was someone who cared.

Sabah frowned before she brightened.

"Just come here after school when it gets bad. I already know you're a cape, so there's one stress gone and you just trusted me enough to tell me about those... people. You don't have to hide anything here. I can even pick you up if you like? In plain clothes of course, it's been awhile since I drove my car anywhere but the Doll House or to the shops. But you shouldn't forget about your Dad, he might need to know these things." Sabah said with conviction, her voice energetic. Taylor smiled as the other girl kept talking, trying to convince her coming here was good idea.

Because Taylor didn't need any convincing.

"I would love that." Taylor whispered. Sabah stopped listing the amount Taylor would save on bus fares, and blinked.

A smile spread over her face.

"I haven't had a friend in a long time, guess I went a bit over board." Sabah said with embarrassment. Mog shook his head.

"You two are worse than a pair of young Moggies, kupo." He said as he floated up and over to Boco. Sabah stood up with a huff.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sabah asked, hands on hips. Mog waved an arm as he landed on Boco's back.

"All awkward and dramatic, kupo." He said with a dramatic sigh of his own. Taylor uncurled herself a bit and grinned a little.

"You aren't any older than us right?" Taylor asked generally curious. Mog snuggled into Boco'a neck ruff, setting his pom into a comfortable place.

"Not a day over 800." He boasted. Sabah and Taylor waited for Mog to laugh or wave his words away, but when his soft snoring began to carry over, they looked at each other.

"Do you think he was..." Taylor said uncertainly.

Sabah shook her head weakly. "No way."

However, she didn't sound confident. Taylor almost said something when her eyes landed on a digital clock.

9.32 PM

Oh fuck.

"Dad!" Taylor cried and launched herself to her feet. Sabah fell back in surprise and noticed the time. She quickly waved Taylor towards the kitchen.

"Use the phone, I can't believe we got so carried away, it's so late!" Sabah cried as Taylor dialed.

Waiting nervously, Taylor fidgeted with her shirt again, trying to pull it back down. It still kept riding up.

“Hebert residence.” The voice of Taylor’s father, Danny, came from the phone. He sounded worried and tired. She’d… she’d made him worry.

Swallowing Taylor began nervously. "Hey Dad."

Taylor sat up in a panic on Sabah's couch as she looked around at unfamiliar surroundings, which quickly passed as the fog of sleep left her. Groaning she looked at the digital clock nearby.

3.10 AM.

Danny had been more than a little worried. After a lot of reassurance and promises of not giving him any more heart attacks, Taylor's father had been both worried and surprised when Taylor said she was at a friend’s house due to the bad weather and just got carried away talking all night. Not that Taylor blamed him; she hadn't exactly mentioned Sabah yesterday.

The whole cape thing put a real wrinkle in casual conversation.

Her Dad had offered to pick her up, but he sounded exhausted after his shift at the Docks, they both knew he wasn’t exactly 100% when he was done working. Taylor had given him Sabah's street address and number in exchange for staying the night. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't angry either.

The rain had reached such intensity that Taylor could hear it pelting off the windows. It was the last noise Taylor remembered hearing before she’d drifted off to sleep.

Now the rain had stopped and there was a new sound coming through the studio's windows.

Screaming.

With a rush Taylor flung herself out of the warm cocoon of her make shift bed. A last frantic scream pierced the air.

Taylor had already gotten her hoodie and goggles on as Sabah came through the door in a robe. Mog and Boco stood near a window trying to peak out.

"Taylor? What's going on?" Sabah asked nervously as the night went quiet. Taylor slid up to the door and opened it a crack.

"I don't know, but I’m going to check. Someone could have had an accident." Taylor said quietly. Sabah nodded.

"I'll go get changed, don't go far. If you see a Cape, just turn and run." She said over her shoulder as she vanished back into the bedroom away from Taylor's line of view.

"Kupo, be careful. If things get hot, then we'll come give you a hand, kupo, but we'll guard the studio in case it's a trick." Mog said as he urged Boco higher up to get a better view of the street.

"No problem, wish me luck." Taylor said nervously, her stomach tightening.

Mog turned to her and said seriously before Taylor slipped out the door. "You are a Keyblade Master, kupo, you don't need luck, just think what's important to you."

Taylor wanted to believe him, but a little luck would be nice too.

The cold air seeped into her clothes the moment she closed the door.

Pushing her discomfort aside she climbed the stone steps, wincing every time she hit a puddle.

The street look abandoned at this time, threatening almost.

A noise caught Taylor's attention down the road. Half walking and half crouching Taylor moved closer.

A side ally to a small business, hidden from Sabah's front door, appeared as Taylor closed the distance between herself and the door. Feeling everything in her body stopped as she held her breath, she peered around the corner.

The sight that greeted her wasn't what she was expecting in the slightest.

A man, from what she could see, was on his back, trying to shuffle away from a dark figure that was idly strolling towards him. The man was poorly dressed, all the clothes the wrong size, worn, and dirty. His broken, yellow teeth chattering, possibly from the cold or, more likely, fear. His greasy salt and pepper hair was now slick and shiny from the puddles beneath, the water mixing with the blood leaking from an arrow in his shoulder to leave a red trail behind him.

The figure however seemed almost too clean for the ally. Her heavy, coat seem to shimmer in the street lights, some kind of urban camo. There was a brief flash, the metal of her crossbow briefly reflecting light from a bulb across street as she swung her the weapon up to aim directly at his face. The figures dominate color was black and it suited her, the armor beneath the cloak revealed her identity though.

Shadow Stalker of the Brockton Bay Wards had just fired a lethal arrow into a clearly defenseless man. Well, from what Taylor could see anyway. She supposed he could be a cape with dangerous powers but then, why wasn’t he using them? Still, Taylor hung back, not wanting to spook the Ward. The last thing she wanted right now was an autographed arrow in her shoulder too.

The scar might be neat though.

Shadow Stalker put on black boot on the mans chest and pushed him to ground, making him grunt in pain.

"Now, I'll ask again, who is the Yellow Blur?" Shadow Stalker said threateningly, stepping forward and shifting her crossbow to press on the arrow in the man’s shoulder.

The man yelped and shook his head.

"I dun’ know! I was just told to keep an eye out in this ‘ere area. That's all ya’ crazy bitch!" He yelled, spittle flying in panic. Shadow Stalker shook her head slowly.

"So the Merchant's just sent you to watch a random street? Yeah, I believe that." Shadow Stalker said sarcastically. Shifting her aim Shadow Stalker fired. A gout of blood erupting from the man’s hand. He howled, writhing as he tried to cradle his hand without moving his shoulder.

Taylor gasped, her mouth falling open at the sheer brutality at the scene before her.

This… This wasn't... This wasn’t what Heroes did. This was wrong on so many levels.

“Feeling like talking now?” Shadow Stalker said, ignore the man’s weeping as she kicked him in the side. “Talk!”

Shadow Stalker was torturing a man about Boco? Taylor knew that new Capes were snatched up pretty fast by various powers, but was this how they found them? This was how the Protectorate recruited people?! Digging out what information they could find with torture?

Shadow Stalker kicked him again, forcing onto his side where the man curled up whimpering. Slowly, the Ward reloaded her crossbow, the fresh arrow seeming unnaturally bright in the light.

"I might shoot you again, just for wasting my time." The masked girl said with derision.

Taylor had the Keyblade out in record time.

"Enough! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Taylor managed to kept herself from screaming, her voice instead came out pissed. The crossbow was pointing at her before Taylor could react.

"Who the hell are you?" Shadow Stalker said loudly. Taylor felt her throat dry up as the sharp arrow was now facing her.

"Does it matter? I know who you are. Why is one the Wards torturing people?" Taylor demanded, her grip tightening on the Keyblade. Shadow Stalker took a moment to look at the injured man. Her scoff was loud and clear.

"This piece of trash has so many needle holes that any humanity fell out. He's nothing, useless trash, and you still haven't answered me. Who thefuck are you?" The cape repeated, her tone lowering into a threatening growl.

Taylor was torn. Her view on heroes wasn't the romantic one she’d had when she was 10. Taylor knew there were real people behind the masks now. People with hopes and fears of their own… But this? This was sick. So, naturally, being upset with Shadow Stalker, Taylor felt the words slip out her mouth without any input from her brain.

"I'm security for Parian, her private home is near here." Taylor said, shocking herself. What the hell was she saying? Shadow Stalker didn't seem impressed.

"You're a Cape? Working for another... Rogue Cape?" Shadow Stalker's tone implying there was another word she had in mind for Parian. Taylor bit back her retort, an angry a defense of Parian, her brain finally catching up with her mouth. No need to over share after all.

"What of it?" Taylor asked icily, every second spent in Shadow Stalker's presence made her more likely to attack her, the other Cape disgusted her.

Shadow Stalker shook her head.

"Sorry, it's just hard to be threatened by a kid in jeans and goggles. You work for the super fashion girl and you look like that? Right, of course you work for Parian." She said, clearly amused by her own logic. Taylor felt her temper flare. This girl was just so infuriating.

"Well at least I’m not out torturing people cause I'm sick in the head." Taylor spat. Shadow Stalker's amused posture abruptly vanished.

"What did you say to me?" The Ward said quietly. Taylor had a strange sense of déjà vu. Where had she… No, she didn’t have time right now. Shaking her head Taylor spread her arms, trying to resolve this peacefully. It was somewhat risky with an arrow pointed at her though.

"This street is neutral territory of any cape stupidity. You want to beat up people who can't fight back? Do it somewhere else. I'll still report you, but at least I don't have to be near you." Taylor said, reigning in her temper. Shadow Stalker didn't seem to want to follow suit and fired an arrow at Taylor's foot.

The arrow missed, but the air suddenly sky rocketed in tension.

"You do not get to tell me what I can do, I'm the fucking Hero and you are nothing." Shadow Stalker snarled. Taylor raised the Keyblade and pointed it at Shadow Stalker.

Taylor lowered her arms, grasping the Keybalde with both hands as she shifted into a guard position.

"You're not a hero, you're just another fucked up bully." She said with venom. The other capes response was an arrow aimed for her chest. Taylor, trusting her memories, rolled backwards and ended of the side walk on the other end of the street.

Looking up, she narrowly avoided a face full of crossbow as Shadow Stalker wielded it like a club.

Another roll gave her space.

"You run a lot for someone who was talking trash a minute ago." Shadow Stalker mocked.

Taylor grunted as she suddenly rolled forward into the other cape, she felt her body collide with Shadow Stalker's legs before the resistance vanished as the girl in black turned completely incorporeal, then the dark mist chased her.

Shadow Stalker had become a Stalking Shadow. Appropriate, Taylor thought. Shadow Stalker turned solid again with a snarl. A fresh arrow flew at her, and without thinking Taylor raised her Keyblade and knocked it aside with the blade of her weapon, the angle perfectly in lined with the arrow.

The arrow clattered under a car and into darkness.

"How many arrows you got left? Or did you use them all on the homeless?" Taylor taunted, the battle filling her veins with fire. Shadow Stalker went shadowy again and race at her and Taylor swung the Keyblade at her, the Keyblade passed through her like jello, but the shadowy mist suddenly overshot Taylor and reformed back to human shape as Shadow Stalker rolled a few times along the road.

Coughing Shadow Stalker glared at Taylor.

"The hell was that? The fuck did you do to me?" She demanded, pain fueling her anger. Taylor didn't truthfully know the answer. A flash of white caught Taylor's eye and she saw Parian, fully costumed, with a mobile phone to her mask.

The cavalry was on its way. Now to keep the bitch occupied.

"What's the matter? Can't handle playing rough? I thought you said you were the Hero and that I was nothing?" Taylor gloated, feeling the words come out far easier than she was comfortable with. Shadow Stalker rose to her feet and was about to speak before her head snapped to the side.

Then she turned into her shadow state as a car passed through the air she was just in. It crashed loudly and many of the houses around them blinked their lights on.

Taylor snapped her head to the side as a figure in a red and black robe, blonde hair flowing out an opening at the back, floated along the street on chunk of rock. A phone booth hovered nearby along with a small cloud of more rocks.

"Well, well, well and here I thought tonight was going to be pointless, but I guess it won't be so bad." Her voice sounded young, younger than Taylor’s at least, but since she’d met Madison that didn't count for much really.

Another voice called out from behind the robed girl. A man in a white tiger mask kneeled down over the side of the floating platform.

"They don't look like much, but Stalker over there smells like blood. Could be a fun" He said as he flexed his hands, several ripples in the air danced around his fingers like blades.

"Ah fuck me." Shadow Stalker said under her breath.

Taylor was inclined to agree.

Chapter Text

When the next time she heard a scream, Taylor was staying inside.

Taylor's eyes followed the floating debris as it orbited randomly about the girl on the hovering platform.

"Fuck, fuck!" Shadow Stalker spat as she pulled out a cell-phone. With deft fingers she pushed a couple of buttons and shoved the phone back in her pocket. An exhale of breath hissed through her black mask through an unseen grill. Taylor wasn't sure if it was nervousness or excitement.

"Okay, you know what we're dealing with?" the Ward said under her breath to Taylor.

We? Taylor didn't know exactly when they had become allies, in fact, she thought they were still enemies. However, looking at the dirty, white tiger mask wasn't exactly filling her with feelings of friendship. So, if a cape fight was about to break out and Taylor couldn’t claim neutrality she’d… damn it. She’d rather have the psychotic Ward at her back than a member of… Well, than a probable Villain at her back.

Still, Taylor didn’t actually want to fight. She just wanted to save that homele… Okay, he was a Merchant. So maybe less save him and more hand him over to the PRT. Still, what she really wanted was for people to not fight right in front of Sabah’s home. Not… Not when it was the one place she felt safe.

"I'm guessing they're not nice people." Taylor said as the tiger-masked man leaned over to whisper to the cowl wearing girl, his army jacket slid open to show a chest covered in scars whilst the girl just shrugged.

Shadow Stalker scoffed.

"Apart from being fucking Nazi’s? They're great, we go bowling on Sundays." The other girl spat, her crossbow creaking as she gripped her gripped it hard.

Taylor rolled her eyes behind her goggles. Sure Shadow Stalker was no Nazi, but the Ward who tortures people going bowling with a group infamous for hate crimes? She could see it. Anyway, if the two new capes were Nazi’s Taylor realized that meant they were members of…

Shadow Stalker started speaking, cutting off Taylor’s thought. "The girl is Rune, a telekinetic limited to objects she touched, but she can throw a ton about like its nothing. The catman is Stormtiger, aerokinetic, controls air in a short distance around himself. He’s also got enhanced senses, sound, smell, fuckers probably listening to us. Both members of the Empire 88."

Then with a single jerk, she fired an arrow straight at Stormtiger.

The arrow was within an arm’s length of the pair when it suddenly veered off course, flying wide. Stormtiger turned his head towards them and Taylor saw his shoulders rise and fall quickly.

He was laughing at them. Shadow Stalker growled and dropped her crossbow. The girl withdrew two arrows and held them like daggers.

"Stormtiger is mine. Keep Rune occupied." Shadow Stalker ordered before she became just another shadow in the darkness. Taylor blinked at the empty space where Shadow Stalker used to be, her mouth hanging open. The two E88 capes stared down at her.

"You heard Stalker, Rune. The new cape is yours, I'll go play with the Ward." Stormtiger chuckled as he grabbed the edge of Rune’s platform and dropped to ground, walking casually in the direction of the alley where Taylor had spotted Shadow Stalker first.

"I hate it when he tells me what to do. ‘Rune, go here', 'Rune, crush that guy', 'Rune, I'm too lazy to walk, carry me.'" The robed girl said loudly. There was a sound grating steel from the alley and Rune sighed.

"Subtly of a truck, not that I can talk, right?" Rune called out as she flung a chunk of road at Taylor.

Taylor, not expecting the sudden attack by the other cape, hastily rolled away. Taylor's ended up 15 feet back from the spot she was in as the concrete smashed into the asphalt, causing a cloud of dust to spread outwards, covering her escape.

"Holy crap, you can move." Rune said as the dust settled. Taylor gritted her teeth and brought her Keyblade up into a guard. Rune was floating 15 or so feet off the ground, unless Taylor could convince E88 cape to get off her platform then Taylor wasn't really sure how she was going to reach her.

Wait, did she even need to reach her? Taylor wasn’t here to fight, rather to stop other people fighting. Shadow Stalker had been attacking someone practically on Sa-Parian’s door step. She was supposed to be making the fighting stop, not escalating it.

Taking a deep breath to calm her rising anger, Taylor looked up at Rune.

“I don’t want to fight you. Look, do whatever you want with Shadow Stalker, just not here. This is neutral grou…” Taylor began, only to be cut off by Rune.

“Heh. Of course you don’t want to fight me, dyke. And neutral ground? It’s Empire territory, you dig?” Rune said, her voice grating on Taylor’s nerves. The girl was mocking her!

Gritting her teeth Taylor tried again to be diplomatic; the night had already seen enough violence. “Look, I work for Parian, you want the territory? Fine. It’s yours. You want to fight? Fine. Kick Shadow Stalker’s ass. Just. Not. Here. I don’t want you throwing a truck through the wall of the Doll House!”

Rune paused at that. “You live around here? Huh. Still, you don’t want to fight? Too bad because I do!”

Taylor was forced to dodge again, rolling to her left and ending up on the other side of the street as the chunk of concrete that had smashed into the street earlier, shot out of its crater towards where she had been. Looking back made Taylor wince at the hole left in the wall by Rune’s attack. If that had hit her or anyone else…

It appeared Taylor didn’t have a choice. She’d have to fight before Parian or Mog got hurt. After all, Parian was a rogue. She wouldn’t fight and she’d get hurt. Taylor couldn’t allow that, not after everything Parian… Sabah had done for her.

Raising her Keyblade, Taylor waited for the next attack, rolling three times in a row as rocks tried to crush her. She knew she couldn’t keep dodging, that either Rune would get lucky and hit her or someone else would get killed by a missed shot. Collateral damage was a thing after all. But how could she reach Rune to hurt her when the other girl was at least 15 feet in the air?

An idea sprang from a memory as it flashed past in her head. Taylor smiled as she reached back with one hand and then flung the Keyblade, sending it spinning end over end towards Rune. Taylor prayed that it would distract the Empire girl long enough, as she started forwards as soon at the Keyblade left her hand and nearly tripped in surprise when the Keyblade practically flew towards the other girl.

The Keyblade spun with far more force and power than Taylor had intended, or hoped even. Her weapon making a mixture of quick musical notes, almost like a scale, as it travelled through the air. Quickly, Rune swung her platform out of the way and even then lost a corner as the keyblade sliced through the concrete. Rune’s head whipped round, staring at the Keyblade as it carried on.

"What the hell was that?" The floating girl said; her attention entirely on the whistling blade. Rune was so focused that she didn't see Taylor hop on top of the car she’d been running towards.

Not far above Taylor was the floating piece of road Rune was riding upon. It floated with its flat surface facing upwards and a misshapen bulb of concrete below. Taylor leaped for it, her fingers out stretched trying to grab it… Which proved entirely unnecessary as Taylor jumped a few feethigher than the platform. Landing on floating piece of road upon hands and knee, Taylor grunted loudly.

Since when could she do that? How could she jump over eight-feet straight up?

The noise of her landing snapped Rune's attention back to her. The Empire cape flung her hand wide and the platform the girl shared with Taylor suddenly jerked side to side.

Gripping the edge of the platform, Taylor held on for dear life. Then she heard something in the distance. A whistling sound that was coming closer.

A musical sound.

So did Rune apparently, as she stopped trying peel Taylor off, instead turning to try and see what was... and was promptly knocked off her platform as the Keyblade smashed through and heading straight for Taylor. She reached up, half protecting her face, half some forgotten instinct, and caught the Keyblade perfectly by the handle, the impact stinging her palm. This… was a strange night.

All the floating chunks of road began to fall as Rune's attention was thrown off with her body as well. Taylor felt her own floating land begin to dip, so she jumped to the ground, grinning as the drop caused no pain. Landing Taylor gripped the Keyblade with both hands, facing the rose headed blade away from Rune and in position for a full swing just in case she needed to strike quickly.

Rune groaned as pulled herself up using a nearby wall for balance.

"That really hurt." The other girl moaned, more to herself than to Taylor really. With her hand still on the wall, the telekinetic stared at Taylor. A black balaclava under the black hooded robe showed. It gave a faceless effect that chilled Taylor but…

It… was actually pretty cool, when she thought about it. Maybe she could use that herself?

Examining the other cape more while they rested Taylor noted Rune's entire appearance was some mystical wizard gone dark. A robe covered most of her body, with red highlight and black boots. Her hands were gloved, again in black, with the exception of silvery metal plated knuckles.

Taylor guessed if it came down to it, Rune would just punch her.

"You got lucky. I just wasn't really paying any attention to you, ‘cause you look like a joke." Rune said as she started to walk forward, the wall behind began to crack and then a part of the brick wall just pulled itself out, leaving behind naked plaster and mortar. The brick chunk began to orbit Rune as she stopped.

"But now? Now I'm pissed off and you and your... Keysword? Whatever. Now you’re going to go splat." Rune explained in perfectly normal voice that wasn't suited to killing someone. Where was the growl or meanicing chill? Still, keysword?

Taylor looked down at her hands, a scowl crossing her face.

"It’s a Keyblade." She snapped, for the lack of a better response. Rune, who had been about to fling her hand dramatically paused and tilted her head.

"I'll remember that. Make a nice note on your tombstone."

Then there was a giant wall flying at her and Taylor realized if she dodged, then Parian's hiding place would be hit. Parian had been letting Taylor take care of this so far and Taylor didn't blame her. If Parian was seen helping Taylor then that would spell the end of her rare neutrality. So out of time and options Taylot swung the Keyblade down with everything she had.

The rose head glinted in the street light as it sunk into the hard projectile, the blade whistling louder than ever.

The impact made Taylor’s arms ache, but the wall split cleanly into two, the halves falling with a crash to either side of her, most of the momentum lost. Taylor stared, eyes wide, at the gleaming Keyblade. It looked fine, undamaged, as pristine as when she first summoned it.

Taylor had guessed the edges were sharper than they looked, because it could cut would when it looked blunt… but this? She had never imaginedthis. She had been planning to take a trip to the boat graveyard sometime to test exactly how sharp the Keyblade was, what it could cut. However, Taylor guessed live combat was almost as good, if somewhat more dangerous.

There was a rumble and Taylor rolled forward, landing in the the middle of the street, causing Rune's next volley to miss and smash into the ground where she had been. However, Taylor noticed that the brick wall Rune had used remained still; the other girl didn't retain control over the wall the Keyblade had cut in two. That… could be useful.

Jumping back with greater distance than she’d ever managed in gym class, Taylor skidded to a stop as several jagged pieces of earth embedded themselves where she had just been. Rune quickly swiped her hand across the ground and more cracks began to appears, more ammunition for the wizard girl pulling itself free of the street.

The pieces that had attacked her before sluggishly started to pull out of the ground as well. Interestingly though Taylor noted that each piece floating in the air had now started moving just a bit slower.

A problem caused by multi-tasking? A limit on Rune’s power, perhaps with speed and number of objects? Maybe fatigue setting in? Taylor would take any advantage she could get.

Then all the pieces crumpled themselves together with a horrible grinding sound. A very loose ball shape hung above Rune, still grinding and churning, creating a painful grating noise totally unlike her Keyblade’s music, more akin to nails on a chalk board.

The girl let loose a giggle.

"It's been a while since I had to try this hard, to use this trick, but if you keep dodging, then Stormtiger's going to tell the others that I had trouble with a fresh Cape when he's done scraping Shadow Stalker off the walls. Can you imagine? Crusader would laugh his ass off." Rune said, sounding appalled. Taylor stared up at the turning ball. At this size, several buildings around them were in danger of having a few layers scraped off.

If she threw the Keyblade, she could nail the girl, which could cause Rune to either drop the ball on herself, killing Rune or throw it at Taylor and leave her without any form of defense. Taylor felt trapped with no good options. She couldn’t kill Rune, that wasn’t what Heroes did and even if she tried she’d be left defenseless. What… what was she supposed to do?

"If you throw that, you could hit the houses. They're could be kids inside." Taylor said, trying to appeal to the girl’s sense of humanity when she could think of nothing else. Rune took a second to look around and shook her head.

"You think I’d care? Besides, you need to pay attention. With this much noise and this being Brockton Bay, 90% of those will be empty. They either evacuated like smart people or this is an empty street mostly. Either way, you're boned." The Empire cape said brightly. Then she threw the giant ball of road, pipes and a chunk of car.

Taylor couldn't go up, down, or around. She couldn’t dodge at all because that would leave Parian unprotected. Taylor wouldn’t allow that. So once again she braced herself, raising the Keyblade above her head, mentally screaming at herself to do something. The boulder hit the road and slowed for a moment before Rune pushed it onwards, grinding away the asphalt. Taylor jumped and tried to bring the Keyblade down with everything she had. The Keyblade sunk into the ball, which stopped it spinning, but Rune pushed the collapsing heap onwards. At this rate Taylor was going to crash into the buildings behind her and be crushed. The Keyblade was still sinking through the ball, but as the seconds went on, Taylor began to panic.

What if they Keyblade couldn't cut through in time? What if she couldn’t stop it? Parian and Mog would die. Her Dad would never see her again. Boco would… The Keyblade suddenly stopped piercing through and got stuck in a metal water pipe that Rune had ripped up from the road. Taylor yanked at it, but the Keyblade barely budged.

Taylor’s eyes widened before she closed them as the building loomed over her shoulder.

She’d failed.

Then everything suddenly stopped moving with a jerk.

Taylor yelped as something grabbed her around the waist and yanked backwards and up, where she came face to face with a giant… gorilla?

What.

"Seriously, of all the stupid things you could have done, you did a reverse Indiana Jones?" Parian's voice came from the side of the gorilla's head, where she sat perched like a tiny doll.

Taylor stared at Parian, then at the Gorilla. It was easily 10 feet tall and huge and where the heck had it come from?!

Taylor began to flail in its grip so the gorilla put back down, lowering her to the ground.

"Stop fidgeting, I have hard enough time moving this much with any finesse." Parian said, sounding upset. Taylor looked up at her.

"What are you doing here? You have to stay out of this to remain neutral or the gangs will come after you." Taylor said, quickly looking down the road where Rune, one again perched on a floating platform, was moving slowly towards them. Parian leaned forward, her shoulder's tense.

"I have to? I have to do whatever I want Ta- Key, I told you to run if you saw anything weird and not even five minutes later you're sparking off a fight with three different capes, so forgive me when I have to bail you out from becoming a smear on my home. People run from deadly boulders, Key, not try and punch them… Well, cut them. Think about that." Parian said angrily as the gorilla stomped forward towards Rune.

"Parian, the fashion cape. Don't tell me you're getting involved? I actually like your stuff..." Rune said as she crossed her arms. Parian nodded in greeting as she approached. Her voice called out, mellow, the previous anger hidden under honey.

"Thank you, it's always nice to meet an admirer, but no, I'm only involved so far as that ball of yours was heading towards my building, and the girl you were attacking ismy new security detail, tonight is her trial shift. So it was mostly self-interest that I stopped the attack. I was just here to see how Key performed and who threw the first punch, which I have footage of by the way." Parian stated calmly to the floating girl.

Rune shifted awkwardly, her body language visible despite her robe. Clearly this was not something she was expecting Parian to say. Taylor blinked at the sudden attitude change in the wizard girl. Parian tried had tried to explain on how territories worked around the city. Taylor hadn’t really got it but she understood that, if one cape, who was part of a gang, was to encroach on another gangs area then they had two choices.

Declare invasion and war or try to leave as quickly as possible before their boss found out they were causing tension. Taylor just didn't think at the time that Parian had any territory. Sure, she’d tried to claim this was neutral ground as Parian lived here but if it actually was and not just her taking liberties…

"Well I didn't know that exactly did I? She didn't say it belonged to you, just that it was neutral or whatever. Plus she was with Stalker." Rune said defensive. Parian nodded at this, accepting the information but also noting the lie. Taylor may not have said it was Parian’s territory, but she hadclaimed to work for her.

"Shadow Stalker was also uninvited, my new employee was testing her mettle against her, first proper action and such, you understand." Parian said in a 'just us girls' tone, which Rune hesitantly nodded back to.

"Stormtiger... he's ordered me to fight with her and I'm sure I can't stand down until he says so, this is technically E88 territory. He can be… insistent." Rune said as her platform came closer. Taylor watched as Parian’s hand, hidden behind her back where she could see, but not Rune, began to clench.

"I can see that being a pain." The doll girl said as her gorilla deflated some. Parian nodded slowly and sighed. Rune shrugged and sudden reached forward and smacked Parian's gorilla. Parian's creature took a few steps back before it very slowly began to lift off the ground.

"Sorry about this, if you don't struggle too much, I can just keep you out of the way while me and Key-girl finish up." Rune said, sounding genuinely apologetic. Before the Empire girl could turn back to Taylor, Parian's gorilla suddenly crashed back down the earth, cracking the road beneath it.

Rune floated back in shock. "How the hell did you break my control?"

Parian took the time to readjust her wig, which had become a little lop-sided.

"That was interesting. You have a lot of power, but I guess when it comes down to it, I just have more control." Parian said, sounding a little breathless. Rune was about to retort, with words or wreckage, Taylor didn't know, but Rune's hood suddenly hoisted her off the platform like an invisible hand had reached down and grabbed her before Rune was dropped on her ass. Parian waved her hand and the hood sealed itself up, preventing the cape from seeing anything.

The gorilla sudden lowered its hand and Parian yelled down to her.

"Hurry, I can only slow her powers down, the robe is touching too much of her skin." She yelled, which urged Taylor to break into a run, unsure of Parian's plan. Still, she got the general idea and ran towards the lowered hand that was waiting for her. When she hit the gorilla's palm now moving at a dead sprint, it flung her up and Taylor flipped, spinning herself in midair as she flew up and over the buildings. Now coming down feet first onto the floating platform where Rune had just ripped her hood apart, revealing the balaclava beneath, a blone pony tail poking out what must have been a hole cut in the back. Raising the Keyblade above her head, Taylor prepared to land and strike the other go and end this madness.

That was when Shadow Stalker was roughly thrown into her, smacking into Taylor before she could even land. Crashing into the ground together, Shadow Stalker landed on top of Taylor winding her. Looking over the shoulder of the other Ward as she struggled for breath, Taylor saw Stormtiger jump down from the roof and land on Rune’s platform, he seemed a little dirtier, his coat baring a few scuff marks but otherwise unharmed.

As Taylor regained her breath and pushed Shadow Stalker off, she saw a thin cut along her side, the fabric surrounding was damp and the wet patch was spreading. Shadow Stalker groaned as she rolled to her feet, one hand grasped over the wound.

"Fucker. He can control his blades after he fires them." Shadow Stalker growled. She limped forward a step, heavily favoring her injured side, whilst Taylor struggled to sit up, her ribs protesting from Shadow Stalker landing on her.

Then Stormtiger leaned down over the edge of the platform.

"If you can't predict that anyone you fight has a trick or two kept hidden then you need to come back after you finish school, Ward. I’ve fought better opponents with no powers, people who actually injured me. You didn’t even make me try. That's just sad, eh, Rune?" He said over his shoulder to the girl who was busy hastily putting her robe back into a respectable state.

"Yeah, whatever. We leaving? Cause we've got incoming." Rune snapped, her attention on something in the distance, over the roof tops where Taylor couldn't see. Stormtiger turned his head, cocking it sideways as he heard something no one else could yet.

"That's a lot of sirens. I guess we've earned our keep tonight." Stormtiger grunted as he stood, an idle hand flicked a few blades of wind towards Taylor. The ground in front of her shattered and Taylor had to bite her lip to stop herself screaming when rock chips slashed her arms and stomach, her own costume becoming wet with blood. The explosion also kicked up a lot dust obscuring her vision even worse than her watering eyes. Several more quick blasts reached Taylor's ears as she struggled to her feet, feeling dizzy from the pain. Looking about slowly the dust settled, she found the Empire 88 capes had vanished, the platform they had used, gone with them.

Looking around Taylor saw that the entire street was destroyed. The road torn up, windows smashed and walls cracked and broken. She’d… She’d failed and…

A hand landed on Taylor’s shoulder, breaking her from her downward spiral. She looked up to see Parian looking at her before shaking dust from her now ash grey wig, getting them both only more dusty.

"Well, that was messy, but at least they took off. I guess us, plus the PRT was pushing it for just the two of them. And even if they got away, at least Kaiser isn't going to be happy." Parian said, sounding as exhausted as Taylor felt. So Taylor nodded, to spent to do much else, her eyes watering from a combination of dust, pain, and exhaustion. Who knew Cape fights could be so tiring?

"I was worried that I have to deal with both of them, my… my h-hands are still s-shaking." Taylor said, her body suddenly unable to stop her limbs from trembling.

Shadow Stalker who’d for some reason remained quite suddenly sat down, out of frustration or pain, Taylor couldn’t tell.

"Once again, the backup is too late to do shit." The black garbed cape said, more to herself than Taylor or Parian as several vans turned the corner, sirens blazing as they screeched to a stop. Shadow Stalker gently lay down on her back, her mask’s stern visage showing none of tiredness her body obviously felt.

"You both might want to sit down and look small as possible, I said two capes were attacking me and their itchy trigger fingers won’t wait for someone to ask questions first." Shadow Stalker said quietly.

Taylor looked at her then at Parian who nodded.

"She's not wrong. PRT like to secure things before they do anything else. I say let them, I think we both need a chance to catch our breath." Parian said as she flopped backwards into her gorilla. Taylor hesitated before she sank down next to the other girl, leaning aginst the gorilla too. It was comfortable but she could feel Parian shaking just as badly as herself. Taylor leaned in just a little, trying to offer a comforting presence to Pari-... to Sabah.

The other girl froze up before she lean back a little as well. It was… nice.

"So, then Storm and Rune ran with their respective tails, yeah?" The orange visor clouded his eyes just enough to hide his identity, but Assault still seemed to give the impression of grinning with his eyes, even if his mouth only twitched.

Taylor liked him. He just approached her so casually and just leaned on the ambulance door where a paramedic had banadgaed her wounds and ordered her to not do anything strenuous for a few days as she had bruised ribs. Then Assault started talking to her. His personality reminded Taylor of a cartoon fox that she use to watch when she was quite young, the fox was always friendly, but he wasn't opposed to general chaos either.

Assault seem to run with the same mindset.

"Well I think they floated away, but I couldn’t see them due to the dust." Taylor said shyly.

Even after Shadow Stalker, the memory of her torturing a homeless man still made Taylor feel hollow, meeting a Hero made her feel more like her younger self, when her cape fascination was strong and she believed heroes always saved the day. She… she knew better now. Heroes didn’t sdave the day and Shadow Stalker proved they weren’t good… However, Assault seemed nice and he also appeared to have noticed how his jokes were making Taylor feel better. Still, he didn't say anything, just let his grin grow wider.

"Then it's a damn good job on your part kiddo, people usually don't fair to well against Rune, she's difficult to fight and powerful. Girl’s even flattened whole neighborhoods when she goes all out." Assault said, his words reminding Taylor of her dad, who also liked to call her that.

"Well she defiantly had fun trying." Taylor muttered, feeling a little sour that she had failed to take Rune out when she’d had her. It was only Stormtiger’s interference that had saved her.

Assault patted her on the head.

"You win some, you lose some. Comes with the gig." He offered as he stood and stretched, muscles shifting beneath his suit. She supposed it was nice but… Hmm. She supposed it was more a holdover from… Emma. When they’d been younger and talked about boys. Whilst Taylor appreciated it, she didn’t overly like too much muscle.

"Well if you ever want to try the hero thing, numbers on the website, but just walk in to the HQ, it be funnier." Assault chuckled beginning to walk off, but stopped before he got too far.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot. You got a name kiddo? Need if for the paper-work." He asked, a tad more interested than he had been the whole conversation. Taylor stood, placing the shock blanket back into the ambulance. Slowly raising her hand and carefully pointed away from anyone. A thought later and she summoned her Keyblade. Assault stiffened.

"My name is Portunes." She declared loudly and a little proudly, her two days in school hadn't been a total waste. She’d stumbled across the Roman god of keys and doors when trying to find a good Cape name. Whilst the name subtly referred to her ability to lock and unlock, well, anything she’d tried to so far, it was also a gret reference to the Keyblade. It was perfect!

The people around her stared and she slowly lowered the Keyblade as no one said anything. Taylor flushed, embarrassed. Maybe she had been too pretentious? Too obscure?

Assault leaned forward as the Keyblade vanished again.

"Huh, that's a cool trick. A little Miss Militia in the making are we?" He joked, Taylor was about to respond when Parian suddenly slid up out of nowhere and began herding her towards the end of the street. Confused, but not fighting her urging, she waved over her shoulder.

"Bye, and remember it's Po..." Taylor's voice was drowned out by the various people in the crowd as Assault waved good naturally at the fading pair. As he was left with his thoughts the cape looked down at his hand and noticed somewhere along the interview the recorder had died.

"Crap." he said to no one.

The next day, Sabah had to comfort a distraught Taylor in the third floor of the Doll House, unable to slip back in to Sabah's studio without being seen, they had stayed the night in the shop. Sabah had also gotten the morning newspaper with the screaming headline.

"New cape: Keynote, defends against E88!"

Under the title was a picture of a very sheepish Assault with a frowning Battery.

"I think she called herself something different, but… I forgot." He’d said to the journalists.

"Noooooooo!" Taylor quietly wailed. Sabah smiled as the other girl sunk down and hugged herself. While mentally upset, Taylor looked physically fine, even slightly cute with an almost pout.

Sabah understood about the name, she’d had to be really firm with the PRT when she’d chosen her name as they’d tried to name her Patchwork in their press release. Honestly, what was with them and forcing names on Capes they didn’t choose or announce on live television. She honestly felt sorry for Taylor, even if it was a little funny and she was having the most adorable reaction.

Still, Sabah thanked whoever was listening for letting them both escaped last night alive and mostly unscathed. Still, she knew that things were going to get far more complicated in the near future; but for now, they had time to relax before consequences would rear their ugly heads.

Kaiser would want his due.

Still, hopefully Shadow Stalker was now being detained for to her actions. Really, torturing some Merchant peddler for information on Boco. Ridiculous.

And for good or ill, Taylor had taken her first step into the cruel, dark world of Parahumans Sabah had tried herself to stay out of.

Sabah, gave another prayer to above, whoever may be listening. She prayed for strength that she might keep her friends safe. Because with who would be coming for them?

She’d need it.

A week later, the Simurgh removed a small Russian facility from the frozen Tundra wasteland. The heroes on the scene claimed she displayed telekinesis not seen before.

32 scientists were dead on arrival. Zero capes were KIA.

It was a new record for an Endbringer battle, but no one felt reassured.

Chapter Text

 
"This is at least one of the top three most stupid things I thought you capable of." Miss Militia said, her calm tone not quite hiding the anger just beneath the surface. With her back pressed against the vans interior, her military fatigues failing to hide hard muscle and the large glock sitting at her hip, the older cape looked fairly intimidating. The van began to pick up speed and the vibrations forced her to shift, a green flash accompanying the change in posture as green rifle appeared in Miss Militia's hands.

Sophia sat opposite her, her mask discarded to the side.

Miss Militia had suggested that they rode back on their own. Sophia hadn't put up much resistance, expecting Armsmaster to drag her back to HQ by her hair on his motorcycle.

Which only made his absence weirder. In Sophia’s experience, Armsmaster never failed to appear in time to make someone else feel even more idiotic.

"I guess it's better than it being flat out number one." Sophia said, her eyes not meeting Miss Militia's in the dark. The older woman's face was illuminated by the jade green glow of her weapon changing again.

People always joked about the fact that Miss Militia could smile with her eyes, most of them didn't know that she could snarl with them too.

"What happened Stalker? What could have possibly made you think anything that happened tonight was a good idea?" Miss Militia said with angry radiating off her.

Sophia shifted uncomfortable.

"I helped stop an attack on Parian by the Empire 88." She offered, her voice weaker than her usual bluntness. Miss Militia leaned forward, another flash placing a wicked dagger in her palm.

"Sophia." She said in a tone that carried more power than an anti-material rifle. Sophia sighed and then slumped, her hands running through her hair.

"Does it even matter? I’m fucked. One way to bird cage or some Simurgh Quarantine-Zone coming up." She snapped at the older woman. Miss Militia shook her head.

"Not until I've heard why." she replied more calmly. Sophia bristled then, taking a deep breath through her nose, deflated in her seat.

"I was at home, not patrolling like I was suppose too." Sophia said, her voice turning sharp, almost accusing. Miss Militia nodded and motioned for her to go on.

"I was just sitting there, doing some stupid homework, when I heard them come home. Not drunk, but high. They had been at one of those parties again." Sophia said, her hands clenching.

"Your mother and her boyfriend?" Miss Militia asked, Sophia didn't answer her question but continued to speak.

"I waited as long as I could, but you know, I got hungry and I didn't hear them making much noise so I thought it was one of the quiet highs. I can deal with them so I thought 'fuck it'." Sophia began to speak faster. Miss Militia didn't interrupt her.

"I go downstairs and there's Mom passed out on table, and Mark isn't anywhere. One of them had put bacon into the pan and just flooded the kitchen with cooking oil and it...it was starting to smoke pretty badly so I turned it off and put the pan in the sink. Then Mark, the new boyfriend, comes out fucking nowhere, screaming at me for ‘ruining good food.’" Sophia spat, rage twisting her voice.

"He didn't hurt you did he?" Miss Militia said, her hand reaching forward towards Sophia, who shook her head and shrunk back.

"Just held my arm and screamed, which woke Mom and she started to scream because she's fucking crazy. There was too much noise, all the screaming, then the smoke detectors went off and the beeping and shit started." Sophia leaned forward and put her head down and taking rapid shallow breaths.

"The alarm, Mark screaming, the smoke, the anger. It just all came flooding back and I just shadowed out of Mark's grip and sucker punched him. I ran, grabbed my stuff and got out." She said quietly. Miss Militia eyed her shaking hands.

Sophia couldn't escape the van easily. Live wires ran the length of the vehicle for several purposes, all coming together to form a handy net to keep Sophia from bugging out and running to cool her head.

Not that Miss Militia would let her get five feet before she was tasered. But the net was comforting.

"Your ID number was registered at the PRT building, before the incident. You went there first?" Miss Militia asked once Sophia had raised her head again.

The van made a turn and Miss Militia knew the driver was doing as instructed, taking the long way to PRT.

"I was doing what you asked, I thought it was the best idea. Mom would call the police, the police put out a call, my name pops up on Piggot's desk and then I’d be pulled in anyway. I was trying to avoid getting into more crap. You said if things got bad then..." Sophia trailed off, not willing to say the words aloud yet.

"To come find me and I’d make sure you’d be treated fairly." Miss Militia finished for her. When Sophia nodded, the other woman sighed.

"Sophia, you've been doing the rounds, therapy, tranquilizer darts, team building exercises. You still have a long way to go, but you were making progress. I know that feeling, that urge you get after stressful events. The desire to go out and just keep shooting till the worlds a better place. What happened tonight was skirting dangerously close to your trigger event and that's enough to make anyone go off their game. But this urge, this urge to throw yourself at the first thing that moves and make it bleed is something we agreed to work on. Together. Why didn't you contact me when you were at the PRT building, the database said you left not 10 minutes after you arrived?" Miss Militia asked, her voice matching the worry in her eyes.

Sophia gritted her teeth.

"It was Dennis. I was just coming in then he pops out of fucking nowhere. Starts cracking his stupid piss-head jokes. I was ignoring him until he said I shouldn't be such a grouch, stalking the wards area and I should just ‘go home enjoy a nice dinner with my family’. So I decked him. I punched in his stupid fat face and left. He was making me more angry every second he opened that fat mouth of his. I was… I was thinking about hurting him. So I got out." Sophia said, her eyes glued to the floor.

"Then you decided to randomly pick the rumor of the month and go hunting for the Yellow Blur? Sophia, we know nothing about this cape, just that the think tanks that took a look said whoever it was, didn't lose mass when they running that fast. That makes them twice as dangerous as Velocity in some ways. What made you think you could even catch them?" Miss Militia asked incredulously. Sophia pulled her black mask into her lap, slowly spinning the black metal.

"'Cause I never thought I would find them. I was looking for anyone, anything to go for. I found an old stash of arrows I kept about the city and then I just kept moving. I needed to find something, anything to hit. To… to make them bleed." Sophia said with a sigh.

"I wasn't totally stupid. I dipped most of them into a bottle of morphine, which I may or may not have stolen before I was in the wards. The guy I attacked, he was Merchant scum. He was standing in the alley, looking for the Yellow Blur as well. I was going to ignore him, he was nothing. Then he lit up that damn joint and I just got so pissed." Sophia snapped, smacking her hand into the vans metal wall. Miss Militia sighed as a street light lit up the back of the van.

"I was expecting you to go straight for the Empire in your current state. Ironic justice, given your ethnicity and your brutality." Miss Militia said off handedly. Sophia snarled at that.

"I don't live with the Empire." She said heatedly. Miss Militia answered back unaffected by her tone.

"You don't live with the Merchant's either. Drug use isn't an automatic entry for them, nor is it equal to the acts the Merchants perform throughout the city." Miss Militia said firmly. Sophia snorted.

"Both of them are just waiting on their club membership cards coming in the mail." She said bitterly, but frowned as Miss Militia leaned forward a little more.

"Sophia, I'm going to tell you something I'm pretty sure your therapist won't. You won't like this, and you will hate it but I think you need to hear it to help you get a grip, to look at yourself. Now, I don't know what your therapist tells you, but here's what I see. I read the reports of the incident when you triggered. I read about your step-father, Steven, and how you couldn't save him because you were trapped in the wreck." Miss Militia said, calmly as Sophia stood abruptly, her lips turning pale in rage, words failing to appear as Sophia tried to speak, interrupted by a green flash as Miss Militia’s dagger became her preferred rifle again


"Then when you got your powers, you got out and sat there until emergency services arrived. The PRT put it together after your inclusion into the Wards. Most triggers are listed as to avoid putting capes too close to situations that may make them act unpredictably. So here's what I see. I see a young girl who lost someone close because people who were stronger decided he didn’t need to live anymore. You survived because you received powers. So in that moment, that girl put it together in her head that there was strong people, survivors, and weak people, dead people." Miss Militia carried on, ignoring Sophia's snarling and stuttering threats.

"Stop it." Sophia said, her tone furious. Miss Militia slammed the butt of her rifle down to on the metal floor.

"Sit down Ward." She barked, her own tone angry, stern, broking no rebuke. Sophia glared at her, her hands now shaking fists. Then, slowly, she sat down, her lips trembling.

A voice came from the front of the van.

"Is everything okay back there?" The driver asked. Miss Militia rapped three times.

"All clear." She said calmly before turning back to Sophia.

"Sophia, ever since that day, you've had this endless anger, people say its teenage hormones, that you're a sick person, some even say that you're on the fast track to a self-destruction. You have all this power and rage, and it sitting inside you boiling away, each day just stoking the furnace. You have the potential to do something great, to be someone great! Or you can do something terrible, become just another monster. However, you can't, people, society, they say you can’t, but more… I say you won’t." Her hand gripped her rifle which morphed with a flash of green light.

Sophia pushed herself as far back as she could go.

Under Miss Militia's hand sat the rounded body of a missile.

"This is a Davy Crockett. It's the smallest nuclear weapon ever developed, a man portable nuke. I can make these anytime I want; a city killing weapon. Sometimes, when I return to duty after some personal time and see yet another horror committed by people around the world, para or normal, and I think to myself 'One thought, just one bad thought and I could end them.' Do you understand that sometimes it's better for people to control themselves?" Miss Militia asked, the missile reforming into an army combat knife. Sophia nodded, her mouth extremely dry.

"Sophia, you keep pushing people to breaking point, your family, your friends, your caretakers, your therapist and even some of the security forces around the PRT. You keep pushing them, because you see them as weak, nothing but dead people walking. That would be extremely worrisome if I hadn't noticed that you don’t treat me, any of the Protectorate or your fellow Wards that way. You treat us, if not with respect that at least acceptance. You see us as the strong, the survivors, regardless of what our powers are, only that we have powers and so we, like you, survived the worst day of our lives." Miss Militia was quiet for a few seconds before she continued

“I don't think you torture people for pleasure, but nor do I think you regret it. I think you try to hurt people to try and make them trigger, to ‘save’ them. To make them become survivors to. Maybe it’s not having powers even, just fighting back. I think that deep down; you believe if your step-father Steven had powers, if he’d fought back, that he would still be alive today. That he would have survived." Miss Militia said and Sophia convulsed as if Miss Militia had punched her. Her face was grey when she stared at Miss Militia again, sweat dripping down her face.

"That's not true, I don't… I don’t care about anyone! They can all just go to hell!" Sophia hissed through clenched teeth. She shook her head, wrenching it back and forth as if to ward away some painful thought or bitter memory. Miss Militia dropped the conversation, deciding that continuing it would do more harm that good for now.

However, they still needed to address Sophia’s actions tonight.

"Parian only caught your fight with her new security, 'Keynote' I think. Assault was giving a press release as we left. Parian has given us no cause to doubt her word, she is one of the best examples of a Rogue’s since the debacle with Uppermost. She claimed you were the instigator when Keynote tried to defuse the situation and that you’d been torturing the Merchant you attacked earlier. So I took a look at the footage we confiscated from Parian. In it you are clearly seen using lethal ammo against Keynote who is, at worst, a Rogue. There was also blood visible in the video and present at the scene, as well as a few errant arrows that you missed. Parian willingly surrendered her phone to us and told us to deal with you, so we assume no charges will be pushed." She said in a more formal tone. Sophia looked at her, waiting for the verdict.

"The merchant was nowhere to been seen so if he was well enough to flee I assume he'll live. As for you? I'm not sure what Piggot will say, most likely something worse, but I can easily see you getting desk duty for an unknown amount of time, double therapy sessions, a tracker or two possibly, and doubtlessly escorts to both home and school. No matter what the Director decides, I personally will be pushing for more training sessions and for them to be placed directly under my management. If you want to fight so much, then I will make sure you never have to go looking for it again. These are just the first things that come to mind though, so don't get comfortable. You will be punished and it will be severe. I only hope you learn from this mistake and become a better Hero because of it." Miss Militia said, her tone crisp.

Sophia managed to stare her in the eye for a few seconds before the Ward dropped her gaze to the floor, stunned by the faith placed in her. Could she really be… become more than a survivor?

"Yes Mam."

Chapter Text

"It's a big world out there."

"Is it? I've never left here. I just come to the beach every day and stare at the water."

"Heh, weird kid."

"No I'm not! There's just not a lot to do here, for me anyway."

"I suppose...I'll let you in on a secret. There's more than this world, there's a lot of them."

"Right. I'm young, not stupid."

"Kids shouldn't be so cynical. Where's your sense of wonder and adventure?"

"I have them, but I also have a sense of common sense."

"Tough nut to crack eh? Well I suppose if someone told me this when I was your age I... Anyway, how about a peek?"

"A peek?"

"At another world, just a quick one mind you."

"Y-You're not joking?"

"I am actually trust worthy, despite your insistence that I look weird."

"You do look weird."

"So I guess that's a no on the peek?"

"I didn't say that!"

"I'm just pulling your leg, come on. I think I know the perfect place to go."

"Where?"

"You like beaches don't you? This place is perfect and it has these great fruits with a story..."

Chapter Text

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♦ Topic: New Rogue. Cape Security! Keynote makes a debut. In: Boards ► News ► Events ►America ►Brockton Bay

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Chapter Text

Taylor tried not to sound nervous.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?"

"No, I'm not sure. I've never had to do anything like this before." Sabah said, the tension in her voice caused Taylor to flinch slightly. Sabah put a hand on Taylor's shoulder as a chill winter wind blew through the empty park.

"It's not your fault, sorry, I'm just tense. This was bound to happen sooner or later. AS much as I might wish I could… I can’t hide in my studio forever." The doll girl's shoulder dropped as she sighed.

Feeling a bit awkward at the touch, Taylor tried not to let it bother her too much. It was unsettling and she wanted to flinch and yet part of her wanted to lean into the touch as physical contact was so rare for her.

Pushing her feelings aside, Taylor reached out and patted Sabah on back, returning the gesture.

"I understand, I mean, it's been over a week and a half and now Kaiser wants to meet? If he wanted to punish us or something, you would think that he would be more punctual." Taylor said, fiddling with the zipper on her new coat’s front. Sabah absently mindedly pushed her hand away and readjusted Taylor's hood.

"Are you sure I look... heroic enough?" She asked Sabah, a hint of nervousness coloring her voice. Sabah nodded at her, probably hiding a smile behind her mask.

"Since Mog and I design this, I can say without a doubt you look heroic. At the very least, you look like a professional hero now." Sabah said with pride. Her voice had become a lot brighter as she talked about Taylor’s costume. Her professional pride practically forced her to trail her hands over Taylor's cloak, smoothing out creases.

Taylor ducked her head to hide her smile and tried not to fidget as Sabah looked her over, relishing the attention. Sabah had been extremely strict, yet passionate when she had transformed into Parian, the fashion cape. Parian had then forced Taylor to stand still whilst the doll faced cape tried to smother Taylor in so many different fabrics that Taylor was still picking threads out her teeth.

Still, Taylor’s costume wasn’t all Parian’s work. Mog contributed by throwing in some of his own ideas and design choices.

The cloak was white with a comfortable hood that she kept up at all times. A huge zipper, which began at her hood, trailed the length of the cloak down the middle. With a zipper at each end Taylor kept the top half zipped whilst the bottom, from about her navel down, was unzipped to allow her legs to actually move in what amounted to a trench coat.

As she looked down, she ran a hand over the jade green symbol supported by not one, but two belts, at different angles to her waist forming an X. It felt excessive and she’d said as much, but Taylor was overruled by Parian and Mog. Holding the belts in place and being used as some kind of decorative clasp to keep them connected was a green buckle. Made of metal the buckle took the shape of a four way cross with the top point turning up into a stylized heart shape. Taylor... liked it. She liked it a lot, but she didn't really know why.

As Sabah fussed over a crease in the sleeve, it gave time for Taylor to eye the spreading vines over her arms. On each arm was a single vine that sprawled down the hem of the cloak, to just above her hands. Where more zippers sat.

There were zippers on her front, on her arms, and on her boots. When asked, Sabah pointed to Mog in defense. When Taylor had turned her glare on Mog, he simply shrugged before responding with a single word.

"Tradition."

Despite pestering him, Mog had refused to elaborate on that answer.

Completing the overall design was a keyhole design on her back. Out of the keyhole grew a rose stem with vines that seemed to grow and spread up to her shoulders before starting down her arms. As for the rose, its petals were a deep red and serrated like on the Melody of the Lost.

Taylor had to admit, it looked pretty awesome.

But the coolest part of the entire outfit was the hood.

Mog had vanished and reappeared with a bag after the costume was finished. Inside the bag was the strangest assortment of baubles and gems Taylor had ever seen.

Some looked hollow with colorful gases in them, others looked like they kept changing shape whenever Taylor blinked or looked away. Some of the gems hummed.

"Material's, kupo, this world is full of them. It's strange, kupo, you can only usually get them in very strict ways. But they're everywhere here, just lying about. They don’t do you much good though unless you have magic, kupo, can't interact with them otherwise." He explained.

Sabah had been furious when she realized this meant Mog had been leaving the safety of the studio without telling her. Watching Mog apologize had been funny though.

Still, Taylor had been skeptical until Sabah said she could only see a sort of fog inside the bag, to her the gems were perfectly clear. However, when Sabah, at Mog’s urging, touched the Keyblade and looked inside, she had gasped as beautiful gems suddenly appeared.

After that, without really explaining first, Mog had rushed over to the assortment of machines he had "fixed" in the corner of the studio he’d claimed along with Boco. There was some kind of device that looked like a miniature oven, except inside it glowed yellow; another looked like a child’s toy with letters and symbols in primary colors; a third looked like a chemistry set except the glassblower had a bad case of hiccups.

When Mog started messing with some of his creations, the following explosions and loud noises had forced Sabah to reassure her neighbors several times that yes, she was fine and no, she wasn’t doing anything illegal.

The machines had done the job though, whatever that was, but many of them were now smoking, cracked, or had shattered glass, oftern all three.

After performing a few final additions by hand Mog came over with a jar of darkness. Taylor wanted to say it was a liquid but it... moved unlike anything she had seen before. It kind of looked like someone had managed to persuade smoke that it was just confused and really should be a liquid.

Then, with screams of horror from Sabah, Mog had poured the jar into the hood of her new costume. It floated in the hood for several seconds before it realized gravity was a thing and sunk down into the hood yet didn’t move at all. When Sabah checked it over, the result was the strangest thing Taylor had seen in… Well, not the past week, but it was strange.

No matter which direction the girls looked at it, inside the hood no details were visible, like somehow the majority of the hood was perpetually in shadow. They even tried shining a flashlight into it and still couldn’t see the back.

When questioned Mog had just shrugged and said "A blind spell in a bottle, but turned inside out, be careful, kupo, I won't be able to make much else for a while. I need better tools, kupo."

Returning to the present, Sabah continued to fuss over her costume, probably squinting behind her mask like she’d done in the studio when making, .

Satisfied with smoothing out the almost imperceptible creases in Taylor’s new costume,, Sabah stood up and nodded, her blonde curls bouncing slightly.

"You look good and don’t worry, I'll keep your hood up if things go south. Just remember to run and stay close. Hmm, we’ll have to see if Mog can come up with a solution to that." Sabah said and Taylor felt a snug pull from her hood as it tightened a little under Sabah's powers.

"Thanks, if any of the E88 saw my face, I’d most likely be conscripted and… I couldn't stand for Kaiser or anyone else to have that kind of power of me." Taylor said, her chest going cold at the thought of putting her dad in danger. He didn't even know where she was right now, let alone she was a cape.

"Except me, apparently." Sabah remarked dryly.

Taylor blinked at her. "Why would I worry, we're partners aren't we?"

"No Taylor, we're friends. And I don't betray my friends. It’s odd really, you know,, how close we've become in the last few weeks.” Parian shot what Taylor thought was a nervous look at her, it was hard to tell with the other girls porcelain mask on.

Taylor nodded stiffly, hardly daring to believe it. “I… Yeah. Friends.”

Sabah seemed to relax at that, her voice sounding warmer. “I thought it weird at first, until I thought about it. I mean, normally I never made friends, not since coming to America. At first, everyone was too different, but I adapted and it wasn't so bad. Then when I got into College, the other students in my old courses were too different, they treated me differently , more serious… sexist.”

This last bit was said much quieter.

Taylor looked nervously at her, yes, her friend. “I’m sorry. You…”

“Don’t be. not that I'm complaining. America is a lot better than home and my new course much nicer. Fashion is amazing compared to engineering. Still, I never had someone I could really relate to before. So even if I have to face down Kaiser tonight… If someone told me this would be the price of being your friend, I’d pay it again. Besides, who else could I count on to watch Boco and keep him from eating something important as I work?" She said with a laugh.

Taylor gulped, turning away to face the park as her eyes prickled. Someone… someone really did care. She had a real friend again.

"Well, it's weird for me too I guess. As little as I’m worth, I’m glad you’re my friend. I kind of got used to being alone but… It wasn’t..." Taylor trailed off, lost for what to say next. How did you tell someone ‘thank you for saving my life?’

Taylor felt Parian’s gaze on her and turned back to look at her immaculately dressed friend.

"What?" Taylor asked, feeling aware of every shadow suddenly. Sabah shook her head.

"I was alone because of circumstance and then because I'm a workaholic. You were alone because stupid little girls tried to make themselves feel big. It's not fair to compare us, it's not even funny. I'm sorry, that you were alone for so long." Sabah said as she turned away, her arms hugging herself.

"Sabah..." Taylor trailed off as she didn't know exactly what to say to this honest statement. What could she say? Parian, Sabah… Taylor felt…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the crunch of tyres on gravel, a car pulling into the park by an access road.

It was hard to make out any details of the car itself as it was black, almost invisible in the night’s gloom. Continuing forward the car slowed to a stop, pulling up not far from them. Taylor supposed it was her costume in particular making them stand out in the dark, white was not a very stealthy color, heroic, but visible.

The car remained still for a few more seconds before the all four doors swung in sync and several people pulled themselves out of the car.

Kaiser, Menja, Othala, Rune and Viktor. A full company of Nazis.

All thoughts vanished from Taylor’s head as the de facto leader of the Neo-Nazis of America and ruler of Brockton Bay’s Empire Eighty-Eight strolled towards them.

Kaiser looked imposing, his metal armor appeared brutal, like it was made of inter-connected blades instead of metal plate. What made him elegant though, instead of a thug, was his posture; it was the posture of a man who not only had everything he wanted but expected to get anything he didn't. Entitled, arrogant, or perhaps his continued success at controlling the largest collection of white supremacists in America gave the man a walk like a king.

A few steps behind him came Menja… or was it Fenja? Either way, the Valkyrie themed cape was almost as imposing in her armor and full face helm from which her blonde hair spilled. A side from from her hair not an inch of skin or anything identifying was visible beneath the metal scales shaped like wings. In her hands she carried a shield, a sword slung at her hip to complete the Viking look. She was one of Kaiser's big hitters, both literally and figuratively. She and her twin could grow to three stories high, including any equipment they were holding.

Taylor had stumbled across a whole thread debating if the twins had the same power, since their powers couldn't affect organic matter or if one grew herself and it worked on her twin as they were identical and the twin grew the gear. Twin capes were rare and identical twins are all but unheard of, so the debate was mostly theory.

A few steps behind her walking side by side with a third cape was Othala, her red suit showing up enough to show that she had both hands clasped behind her back, appearing confident.

Sabah and Taylor had brushed up on any local knowledge on E88 capes in case this very situation happened and they had both agreed that Othala was likely going to be present at this meeting. Kaiser was showing he was willing to talk, under his terms and with his trump in toe, in case they had the PRT waiting in ambush.

Othala could dish out powers to people she touched. This was included, but reportedly not limited to: pyrokinesis, super speed, invulnerability and regeneration. A person could only have one power at a time though, so if they could throw fireballs they weren’t invulnerable. The real problem came because of lack of information, it was debated if , like the infamous Teacher, Othala could give powers to multiple people at once. Having her on the battlefield meant short of death nothing would keep one of the Empire’s capes down for long.

The sole draw back it seemed was that Othala couldn't give herself any of those powers, making her a true support piece in Kaiser's arsenal. This meant that if at any time Othala was left undefended it was possible to take her out as easily as a normal human. However, that might not change much. Taylor and Sabah had been unable to find out if Othala's effects vanished if the Trump was unconsciousness.

Walking beside Othala was Viktor the odd duck of the group, since he wore no mask. His bright red shirt, blood red, Taylor thought darkly, and black slacks made him seem ready for the night at a fancy party. The black breastplate sort of ruined the image though it made him look dangerous, not silly somehow, like Taylor expected.

As for Viktor’s power, he was skill thief if the PHO wiki and PRT were to be believed. Apparently he didn't need to know what skills he was after able to somehow sense what someone was good at and if he wanted their skill. The he needed to spend sometime in the company of the original owner of the skill to steal them giving himself that skill permanently. Fortunately for his victims the loss was sort of temporary, as known victim’s had been able to re-learn their skills and muscle memory ridiculously quickly after Viktor had stolen them.

Still, he was considered a master of martial arts, computers, knifes, explosives, guns, sniping, assassination, trap making, driving, finance, appropriation, torture and interrogation, body language, cold reading, and the piano.

It was enough to make Taylor feel slightly impressed, even if the skills were stolen and her distaste for what he used such skill for.

Rune was taking up the rear and she looked the same as last time Taylor has seen her, well, except not covered in dust and dirt. Taylor could feel Rune's eyes on her as they approached, watching from the darkness of her hood.

Kaiser and his entourage stopped a fair distance away, but still within hailing distance.

"Ah, Parian, Keynote. Thank you for coming with such short notice and under somewhat unideal circumstances." He said, his voice smooth like silk, charming yet strong. It irritated Taylor that such a despicable person, a Villain, could sound so nice.

In response Taylor felt her mouth move before she could stop it.

"It's actually Portunes, the PRT stuck me with Keynote." Taylor said, her voice quivering just a little towards the end, either with anger or fear not even Taylor could say. The Empire group shifted just a little at her voice, Othala murmuring quietly to Viktor. Kaiser paused, taking a moment to consider this, then tilted his head in acquiescence to Taylor’s preferred name.

"I wish you luck on changing it this late in the piece. Everyone is calling you Keynote now, they know you by that name rather than Portunes I’m afraid. Perhaps if another, equally well known organization were to make it know your name was Portunes?" Kaiser replied, sounding slightly amusemed.

Taylor bristled at his last sentence though? He was trying to recruit her? Here, now? Seriously?! Sabah put out a hand to stop Taylor as she went to take a step forward.

"I appreciate the meeting under the white flag and a promise of safety. However, I would like very much to get down to business." Sabah said, her tone taking on clear professional tone. Kaiser nodded at this.

"Like wise, shall we?" He said, gesturing towards an empty table a little ways off the path they stood upon across the dead grass. Taylor though it looked like a chess table, and it was probably used as such during the warmer times. Sabah nodded and then looked at Taylor.

"I'll be back soon." She said, the clear message of ‘play nice, please.’ Evident in her tone. Taylor gave her a sharp nod, still annoyed at Kaiser’s blatant ploy.

As Kaiser and Sabah headed out to take their respective seats at the small table, the remaining Empire members took a pair of benches beside the path and sat down to wait.

Taylor blinked as Viktor pulled a book from somewhere. Othala sat down next to him, leaning against him slightly while they waited, whilst gazing out at Kaiser. Menja sat down and picked up pebbles, beginning to flick them, each pebble growing slightly as it landed, each one bigger than the last, seemingly playing some kind of game with them. Marbles? Rune sat down closet to Taylor the youngest Empire cape looking at her, even if Taylor couldn’t see any of the other girls face.

"You've never done this before have you?" Rune asked sounding happy for some reason. Taylor’s mind had stalled at the sudden casual scene and the question caught her off guard. Shaking her head in pesonse was all Taylor could do, lost for words as she was.

Rune yawned, her arms stretching to either side as she relaxed.

"Expecting a Clint East wood show down right? Blood shot eyes promising death to each other, powers cocked and ready like a showdown at high noon?" She questioned, her fingers making a gun motion and mimed pulling the trigger.

"I guess." Taylor said, her eyes spotting Kaiser casually gesticulating something to Sabah, his fingers pointing to different things on on a map he’d produced. Parian nodded back and Taylor heard the sound of her voice but not the words.

Catching Taylor’s attention as the robed girl stood, Rune walked over to a child's sand box about 30 feet away.

"It can sometime be like that, yeah. If we were going to meet the chinks from the ABB, or those scummy Merchants, or even the Protectorate or Wards, we’d be a lot more wound up, you know? I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but we out number you guys and you aren't really a huge threat. Heh. You didn’t even want to fight." Rune said as she sat on one of the wooden board keeping the sand in. Rune pulled back a tarp covering the white grains and softly ran a hand over them.

"That makes sense; I mean we're here because I couldn't keep my nose out of things and the Shadow Stalker sort of dragged me into her battle with you." Taylor felt odd admitting that to the girl, who just a week previously, was trying to kill her.

Rune laughed.

"When me and Stormtiger came across you, Shadow Stalker looked pissed, nice job on that by the way. Bitch deserves a dose of her own medicine, know what I’m saying?" Rune said. Taylor felt awkward at this casualness, this friendleness Rune was showing to her. A Super-Villain was being more friendly to her than people she’d gone to school with for over a year. That was kind of sad.

Taylor fumbled for something to say whilst she tried to sort out her own conflicting feelings on that. "Ah, are you okay? I mean, I knocked you off your platform pretty high up."

"Don’t worry about it. Bruised ass, but Othala fixed me up." Rune waved her off as the sand began to shift and rise.

Taylor took a hasty step back as the sand rose above the edge of the pit, Rune's hand still stroking the growing mass. Slowly, the sand shifted together into a figure. The only clue Taylor had to the identity of the sand statue was the hood and sword.

"You made… me?" Taylor said with surprise. Rune made a disgusted sound and let the sand collapse back into the pit.

"I was trying to. It’s hard to control small things, even harder to control lots of small things." She said with a sigh. The sand whirled again and made smaller shapes.

Balls, hands, spears, spikes and so on.

"So, Parian finally hooked you up with a new outfit? Got’ta say Key, looking good. How you doing the hood thing? No matter from what angle I sit, I can't see past your chin, got a Grue power effect as well as the giant key? Heh, fucking grab-bags, eh?" Rune said, curiosity coloring her voice. Taylor took another step back, still unused to the darkness effect, it was barely noticeable to her and after a while she’d adjusted and ignore it altogether.

"Rune, stop it. You were told to behave; you're in enough trouble as it is." Othala said sharply.

Rune let the sand fall back to its inert state and stood.

"I was being friendly. I saw her eyes before and we can all see her chin a little. She's pretty and white, so chill." Rune answer back in annoyance. Othala sat a bit straighter, but was cut off as Viktor laid a hand on her leg.

"It's fine, Othala, it's better to let her burn the energy off like this than by starting another pointless battle. If she starts to float cars again, Kaiser would be... unpleasant during the ride back." Viktor said. Taylor took an instant dislike to the man's voice. He was cultured in a way similar to Kaiser. However, where Kaiser exuded confidence and power, Vicktor’s did not and that made his tone seem like he was just trying to show off his importance, not enhance it. Othala looked ready to argue with him, but then relaxed and settled back as he brushed a hand against hers.

Rune gave them an odd look, her hood twitching. Without a sound she sat on a bench quite far from the rest of the E88, but not any further from Kaiser. Feeling awkward at being the only one left standing Taylor decided she’d tak e a seat herself. That unfortunately left her with the choice of sitting down next to Viktor or joining Rune on the other bench. Taylor really didn't want to know how deeply her opinion of Viktor could sink and sitting next to him would probably let her find out. So she followed the robed girl over to the other bench, taking a seat along from Rune.

"Othala thinks she is in charge of me cause we're distant relatives, it’s a joke. I barely talked to her before I got powers and came to Brockton and now she tries to act like she's my mum or aunt or somethin’." Rune complained, trailing her hand over the bench, it was a gentle, lingering touch. Taylor had a feeling that Rune really wanted to make it fly, was ready to make it fly.

"It's nice to have a family." Taylor offered as she wriggled a little, trying to get comfortable on the cold wood. In the distance Parian leaned back and shrugged at something Kaiser has pointed out. The armored man was slowly letting his lower mouth become more visible, the armor opening up as the conversation went on. So… It wasn’t a pre-made suit of armor then, one made by his power… Or was it premade and his power just let him adjust it?

Rune snorted, leaning and propping her elbows on the back rest.

"My family study German politics like Saturday cartoons. Well, extended family. My folks try to stay out of the whole thing. I was annoyed at them for it, but after everything, I kind’a see the appeal of not having a dictatorship ordering your family about." Rune said wistfully. Taylor cocked her head at this.

"Your family is in the E88?" She asked, trying not to sound too curious. It was the same as Rune trying to peek under her hood, identity clues and the unwritten rules Parian had explained to her. Rune shook her head.

"Only Othala, but they have strong ties to the E88. I got into a spot of trouble, went to juvie and shit. Some nigger bitch tries to shank me though and next thing I knew I was throwing tables, and chairs about. So they shove me in solitary but I’m let out less than a month later, despite havin’ 3 months to go. Outside there’s this car waiting for me and stuff so I get inand there’s Kaiser, waitin’ for me. Turns out he’s got a couple’a moles in the prison juvie thing, for busting his own out and like. Anyway, so he asks me how I liked my freedom and you know, I tell him it’s great, ‘cause it is. Then he asks for me to join the E88, not that it was really a choice, as if I said no I knew damn well I’d be thrown back in juvie to finish my sentence. He just likes to make people think they have choices. It's Kaiser's thing." Rune said with a sort of glum resignation ending with a snort.

Taylor managed to nod along to the girl’s story. It… that was kind of sad really. Press ganged into the E88 because you had powers. That was exactly what Taylor feared happening to her. Though that bit about Kaiser and making you think you had choices… She shoot Parian a worried look.

Parian, Sabah was her friend. It was almost too good to be true that Taylor sometimes didn't believe it, she had nightmares about Sabah standing side by side with Emma. Laughing at her, telling her how stupid and pathetic she was. Other times she woke up sweating as Sabah confessed she only kept Taylor around for her powers, that they weren’t friends and Taylor was stupid for thinking it. But as the days went on, Sabah hadn't asked her to use her powers, hadn't asked her to do any favors, hadn't... done anything.

Sabah hadn’t forced her to do anything against her will, not like Kaiser and Rune it seemed. Taylor felt a little sorry for the girl. Sure, she’d been in jail for something but that didn’t mean the Empire should get to press-gang you.

Taylor looked back at her friend talking with that… monster in metal armor. She felt her stomach clench, worry gnawing at her. Would… would her friend be forced into such a non-choice as Rune had?

Taylor decided not to think about it, there really wasn’t much she could do right now, not when so heavily outnumbered. Well, that and Sabah would be angry with her. Taylor really didn’t want to upset the older girl, her only friend.

Friend.

Sabah was her friend.

Sabah just liked being around Taylor because she was Taylor and that threw her for a loop. She didn't know how to show gratitude for Sabah's friendship, it was one thing to be a cape, it was another thing entirely to share the experience with someone who knew what she was going through and wanted help her, if not to be a hero, then to at least stay off a villainous path like Shadow Stalker had drifted down. Sabah had explained some of the easy mistakes and subtle shifts that could change her from hero to villain, or brutal sadist like, again, Shadow Stalker. Taylor still wanted to be a hero, she wanted to feel good about herself like when she’d saved Cherry, but what she had begun to realize, that what she was getting now, being a well, Mercenary of sorts for Parian, a Rogue… It was just as good, made her feel even better really, to know someone cared, that she had friends. Either was worlds better than her previous life though.

Taylor didn't like to think where she would be if she didn't meet the doll cape and now that same girl was bargaining with one of the most dangerous capes in the city because she couldn't let Shadow Stalker be. Couldn't control her temper.

Taylor felt her fingers dig into the fabric of her gloves And her fists clenched, despratly trying not to call upon the Keyblade.

"I wouldn't worry, this place is good for a meeting between the two. Kaiser's a shark, but he really is interested in hashing this out without a fuss." Rune said after Taylor fell quiet.

"What's so special about this place?" Taylor felt compelled to ask, her curiosity winning over her useless worry.

Rune scuffed her boot on the ground, drawing Taylor’s attention to the dirt.

"It's all nature-y. Kaiser works best on solid surfaces, he's kind’a slow on soil, and Parian is surrounded by non-fabrics and didn’t bring any of her mascots with her. Both their powers are weaker than usual here, so it's a good meeting place. 'Show's trust through weakness' and all that jazz." Rune said with a wave of her hand, clearly quoting the metal king.

Musing over that Taylor shot the red and black robed girl a look, wondering how to voice her next question.

"It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but, er, why are you being nice to me?" Taylor asked, her confusion no longer willing to be ignored. Taylor had fought her, hurt her and even humiliated her. Rune was supposed to try to make her life miserable now. Hateful speeches, plots to smash her under a road or at very lest call her names. Yet Rune was just sitting next to her, gossiping like they were friends.

Rune blinked and then made an 'ahh' sound.

"I forget how new you are to all this." Rune gestured at the word 'this' with a waved of her hand towards the rest of the Empire capes.

"We fought, I got knocked on my ass, you nearly got crushed, it evens out." Rune said.

Taylor was inclined to disagree but decided not to argue the point. It wasn't really worth the effort, she thought.

Rune continued, leaning forward and lacing her fingers together.

"We fight, not because it's personal or anything. I'm Kaiser's solider and you Parian's security guard and maybe dyke lover. It all boils down to that we leave our bosses problems to them and we figure out where we stand in the scheme of things. We might even end up working together in the future, you never know. Crazy shit happens in this town, especially with Lung around."

Taylor spluttered as she digested Rune's words.

"I'm not her lover." She managed to say. Rune shrugged.

"A lot of the E88 would kill you for that, but I think as long as it’s white on both ends, what’s the harm?" She said, slightly incredulous at the old Nazi way of thinking. Taylor felt bad for the twinge of amusement of the idea of Rune seeing Sabah unmasked caused. White on both end huh? Heh.

Hmm. Maybe Rune could be brought around if Sabah smothered her in clothes? Rune was a clear fan of her costume, judging by the glances and seemed to appreciate Parian's magic touch with clothes.

Kaiser and Sabah suddenly stood and shook hands. Seeing this Rune stood and beckoned Taylor to follow. Together they walked briskly back to the other waiting group while Kaiser walked towards them, appearing to have not a care in the world, Sabah trailing at his side like a minor footnote. The rest of the E88 capes gathered around him as he arrived back at the car and Rune gave a cheery wave as she got in after Othala.

As the car drove off Sabah remained quiet, just standing next to Taylor and watching the black car vanish into the night. Once it was out of sight she visibly sagged.

"Sa-Parian are you okay?" Taylor asked, unsure if it the park had been bugged during the E88's visit and trying to remember to use cape names when in costume. Taylor still slipped sometimes, it was harder than most people thought.

Sabah nodded tiredly.

"I felt like I just went ten rounds with a tank with the attitude of a peacock. That man is infuriating and hard to say no to without resorting to threats." She said. Sabah stretched and began walking back the way they had come.

"I'll explain when we get back, I need some tea to relax before I try explaining that. How did it go on your end?" Sabah asked tiredly.

"The E88 thinks we're lesbian lovers." Taylor said with a frown. Sabah stopped walking, frozen. Taylor didn't notice until she turned to ask something.

"Lovers?" Sabah said faintly. Taylor felt her mouth twitch.

"Weird, right? I mean I've only known you for a few weeks. There's all sort of things I don't know about you. Wait, do we act coupley?" Taylor asked with amusement and slight embarrassment.

Nodding to herself, Sabah began to walk again, slowly returning to her normal pace.

"I'm glad that's your concern in all this, that I might have dark secrets or something." Sabah said, her voice still sounding slightly off.

Taylor blinked at her from under the hood.

"Do you?" She asked hesitantly. Sabah just shook her head and walked faster.

"We are not having this conversation right now."

Rune sat bored in the middle of the car, between Othala and Menja. Kaiser sat in the passenger seat while Viktor was driving. It was Othala who broke the silence.

"How did it go? Parian seemed like an agreeable young lady." She asked Kaiser who had let the helmet of his armor fade away, giving himself some breathing room and preventing helmet hair. Rune rolled her eyes, she thought everyone but Rune was an ‘agreeable young lady.’As for Kaiser removing his helmet, every E88 cape in the car knew who the others were out of costume so it was a non-issue.

Kaiser, Rune never though of him as Max, turned in his seat to face Othala.

"She was indeed an agreeable young woman. Nervous, but firm. The mess has been fixed and appropriate topics were covered and buried with recompense distributed. I have gifted two small pieces of territory Parian."

This made the rest of the cars heads snap to Kaiser. To gift someone else territory, let alone two virtual no names without the power to face the Empire… It was unheard of, Kaiser never just gave anything to away.

Still, to Viktor's credit, or more likely the skills he had stolen, he kept the car firmly on the road despite his head snapping round to stare at Kaiser. Rune's mouth had fallen open whilst Othala twitched. Only Menja remained unphased.

Viktor was the first to react.

"Sir, may I ask why you gave the doll girl pieces of our territory?" Viktor asked, almost demanded in his haste. Kaiser slowly turned to him and held the gaze of the other man till Viktor flinched.

Rune was so glad she wasn't Viktor right now, even she could feel the steel in that gaze. Slowly though, Kaiser nodded, acceding to Viktor’s ‘request.’

"I suppose you can. I will even answer. It may help settle everyone’s nerves if I explain. I gave Parian two blocks to protect as her own, neutral territories in which the Empire Eighty-Eight will not operate and will officially belong to no gang. It will, however, be Parian’s responsibility to maintain that neutrality. As for the territories themselves… The streets surrounding her shop ‘The Doll House’ and the block upon which Keynote fought Rune last week, where I assume she has her home or a base of some sort. Both areas are of little consequence, each for their own reason." Kaiser said, his voice calm and words softly spoken, but Rune didn't relax, the air in the car felt suffocating all of the sudden.

"The Doll house, is surrounded by our land on all sides, it gives no one else a true footing in the area that we can't wipe out, this area was little more than a formality really. The Doll House occupies one whole side of the street and the buildings behind are unoccupied. It is simply a peace offering to Parian and, by and large, any other rogues that suddenly felt threatened by the attack on Keynote and Parian's home. I do not need, and nor does the Empire, any other opportunistic groups trying to recruit those Rogues or having them run off to them. We hardly wish to drive neutrals into the arms of the Protectorate or worse, the Elite. I do not wish for those opportunists to gain a foot hold here.” His body straighten out as he talked, going into full on rabble rousing speech mode, as Rune like to think of it.

"The second area is adjacent to ABB territory, this is a riskier move on our part but no less benefical. The area itself is poor and we made minimal money in protection fees or drugs in the area, barely keeping to cost. More, I do believe once information has spread about this little deal, the ABB will certainly refocus their attention and efforts to gain more land and push towards the town center. If they think one little opening is only protected by Parian and her guard dog..."

"Then they'll crash through that one street in particular and kill them, leaving it open for us to simply reclaim it." Menja said, bored with the whole spectacle already. Kaiser nodded and everyone relaxed. Rune thought it was a typical Kaiser deal.

Say and do one thing, while really saying and doing the opposite. The proverbial coin flip, head’s Kaiser wins, tails you lose.

"Exactly, I do know what I'm doing. Having to repeatedly prove it, is… bothersome."

A sudden screech made Rune tense. Two spears of metal had grown from the ceiling and car door on the driver's side, effectively trapping Viktor in. The ceiling spear slowly continued to grow, drawing closer to Viktor, who was trying not to flinch in this sudden game of chicken.

"So, for future reference, Viktor, do not question me again." Kaiser's voice was hard and as uneyilding as the spear that brushed against the side of Viktor's neck. The man in red nodded calmly despite the trickle of blood beginning to run down his neck.

"Of course sir, please forgive me. I was taken by surprise, it won't happen again." Viktor's stress handling skills made him voice smooth, despite being so perilously close to death. After a few more moments of tension the spears retracted and Kaiser leaned back into the seats leather cushioning.

"Good."

Rune watched this play by play and thought it’d be nice if some game or other wasn't always being played. Rune bet Keynote didn’t have to deal with death threats if she messed up.

Thinking of the curious girl with no face made Rune's stomach turn a little.

Poor girl had no idea what Kaiser had dropped her in.

“So Kaiser turned two of his areas neutral? He just gave them to you?" Taylor asked, her face shocked whilst sitting with Parian on the couch back in her studio.

Sabah nodded as she drained the last of her tea cup.

"Yes, though they’re not exactly my areas, but i got the impression that I'm responsible for them now. This is going to be a nightmare, the PRT will think I’m ready to reveal my ‘evil master plan,’ capes might try to muscle in, I’m now in a secret, but not so secret, deal with Kaiser and I’ve got to juggle this on top of all my deadlines for the shop." Sabah said, sounding miserable.

Taylor felt the guilt form earlier rise up, bubbling up her throat like bile. She swallowed desperately, feeling nauseas.

"Sabah, I-I'm sorry. This is all because…"

"Because Kaiser is a dick with an agenda." Sabah said, cutting her off. Taylor bit her lip as Sabah stood, walking over to the sinkand rinsed her cup out where Taylor had already left her own to dry.

"Taylor, this world is filled with dicks and monsters. And you are not responsible every time one them takes a swing at us." Sabah said, her voice soft in the late night.

"But if I hadn't fought Rune..." Taylor started, not sure where to go with her argument, simply because she wasn't sure what she was arguing for.

"Then Shadow Stalker might have become a murderer, or she might have died, caught between Rune and Stormtiger. You probably saved her life, even if you didn’t and Shadow Stalker’s more capable because she sure isn’t smart enough to flee and she’d have survived on her own. Who knows? Either way you had the right reasons and I think trying to do the right thing shouldn't be punished, by anyone, least of all yourself, Taylor." Sabah replied, her eyes, a shade of blue that stood out against her dark skin, matching Taylor's. They were pretty, not the colour one would expect Taylor thought.

Taking a breath, Taylor let it out, releasing some of her own tension and nodded. Sabah smiled at her, which she returned with a small one of her own.

"Besides, you're speaking like you're not going to help me Ms. Security Guard." Sabah teased. Taylor shook her head.

"Of course I'm going to help you. I owe you a lot." Taylor said, thinking of the last few weeks and the fun she had. Taylor couldn’t remember the last time she’d had reason to smile, to laugh, to be… happy.

Sabah gave a sad smile as she walked past Taylor on the couch, lightly touching Taylor’s shoulder as she passed.

"You've helped me more than you think, Taylor. I'm going to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." The older girl said as she headed towards her bedroom.

Sabah past Mog at a his own bench, still typing softly on Sabah's old laptop, which for a moment Taylor would have sworn was glowing green, but looked fine when she blinked.

"Good night, Mog." Sabah said with a yawn. Mog bobbed his pom-pom at her.

"Night, kupo."

"Good night, Boco." She said as she closed the door set into the wall. Taylor settled down on the couch, pulling a blanket off the arm rest and over herself. She’d just been sitting there in a shirt and underwear, like she’d used to do with… It, it felt good to reconnect to happier times like that, to do the things she used to do, be the person she used to be before everything. Even if caused Sabah to look away whenever she stood up. She wondered why?

Maybe she would invest in pajama bottoms to be polite.

She wiggled a little as Taylor settled herself down for the night on the unreasonably comfortable couch using one of Sabah’s fluffy cushions as a pillow. Looking up at the dark ceiling and listening to soft click clack of keys as Mog typed away, no doubt designing new machines to create fabulous magical items… Or ruining her image again. Scowling slightly at the memory of Mog’s mistake Taylor thought back on the nights events. Tonight was Saturday, so she still had tomorrow off to help Sabah with her shop, which would mark her first proper appearance in her new costume and her first proper day as Portunes, Doll House security.

Taylor imagined it. The waving to crowds, countless people, adoring fans chanting her name...

Taylor eyes began to flutter close before Sabah slammed the door back open and caused Taylor to fall to the floor as she summon the Keyblade in a awkward angle.

Taylor stumbled to her feet, trying to free herself from the sheets as Sabah rushed past her.

"Wha’? What's happening? Is it the E88?" Taylor asked quickly as she finally kicked the sheet away from her, standing up even if she was just in her shirt and underwar.

Sabah climbed Boco's nest and gave a moan of despair. Tunring to Taylor she looked at her for a moment. "Where's Boco?"

Taylor felt her stomach drop. Had Boco even been here when they got back? Sabah stumbled down the mound and was quickly rushing towards Mog when the door opened and Boco walked in…

Covered in everything.

"Wark!" He cried seeing Sabah and Taylor. He quickly wobbled over and nuzzled Sabah, smearing her with what Taylor hoped was mustard.

Sabah, without touching the mustard, pointed at the bathroom. Boco's gaze followed her finger.

"Go." The mustard smeared girl commanded.

"Wark!" Boco said happily and vanished behind the white door, somehow opening it without hands.

Taylor stood looking at Sabah, Keyblade gripped loosely.

"Should I give you hand?" Taylor said with no emotion in her voice. She was thinking that if she smiled right now, then Sabah would smother her.

"Please." Sabah groaned.

Taylor imagined when she was waving to the crowds that she’d be more... inside.

The plan, Sabah had told her during the ten minute drive to the Doll House from the studio, was that they park out back and get changed before slipping inside through the 'Parian' only door. Why they had get changed in Sabah's old junker of a car though? Because even if they nominally worked for her, Parian’s employee’s might still try and steal a look at the cape, now capes, they worked with.

Taylor had questioned the safety of changing where passersby might see them but Sabah had assured her it was perfectly safe. After all, nobody expected the ‘fashion cape’ to travel in a car that looked it came from a time before mankind. The cramped metal space and foam seats made slipping into the white cloak more hassle than Taylor thought it would be, though she did appreciate the ease of access all the zips added now.

That gave Taylor a thought. Did Alexandria ever have to hop towards a crisis, trying to put on one of her super shoes on in a hurry?

She really wanted to know.

After slipping in, Sabah introduced her to the main woman in charge of PR, finance, security, events, costumes, uniforms, the color of paint in the bathroom and overall, kept the Doll house from exploding. Ingrid Mars was a woman who exuded energy and breathed caffeine.

Taylor felt like she ran a mile just from talking to the woman in a suit. Ingrid was pleased to have another addition to the lone roster in what she hoped to be one day a chain of Doll houses across the country, each sporting their own Rogues and fashion related capes. She called it brining Capes to the ordinary man and woman.

In a world where murderous angels, sea demons and walking nuclear-bombs wiped out cities on a strict routine, where the Slaughterhouse Nine and Three Blasphemies prowled… Fashion and clothes were still very important and prominent on the world stage.

After finally halting her manager’s word flow Sabah explained that she wanted Taylor on the roof, walking the edge every so often to catch people’s eye. She should be visible but mysterious, enough to tantalize the passing crowds, but not close enough to freak people out.

Ingrid was delighted at the idea. Taylor somewhat less so.

Still despite her protest five minutes later Taylor found herself stepping onto the roof as the door shut behind her, Sabah’s promise of refreshments echoing up the stair well.

Taylor felt extremely lost. This was not how she envisioned things were going to end up when she woke up today.

Still Taylor took a deep breath and stepped closer to the edge and looked down. The street was busy as it approached 12 and the lunch crowds began. Below, people were walking passed in such numbers that Taylor had trouble picking out anyone in detail. She took a single step up on the waist high ledge and sat with her legs dangling over the edge, finding it easier than she expected to balance there. Apparently three stories wasn't enough to give her any bad sense of vertigo, and instead Taylor found the wind blowing through the gravel roof pleasant despite the winter chill.

Remembering that she had an image to project, Taylor stretched her hand out and in a flash the Keyblade appeared in her hands, reassuring her as it always did with its presence. The flash got the ball rolling as a few people turned their heads to find the source of light and stopped walking to stare.

This very quickly led to large amounts of people stopping to whip out phones, point or stare depending on the individual. Taylor pulled her hood down, worried.

Had Mog tested his stuff on cameras? If her face was blasted all over the news, then she was so screwed and… Oh god, what would her dad think?

"Dad would kill me." Taylor groaned. Still, too late now.

Standing up on the edge felt almost natural so Taylor began a slow walk around the front of the building, cameras following her every move. With the keyblade slung over her shoulder, Taylor gave a little wave to some of the younger children in the crowd, no in her audience. These people were here to see her and this was her show. She smiled as a number of them waved back excitedly. She remembered what it was like to love heroes, to have one wave at her…

She turned around and began walking back, noting the conversations popping up through out her audience. Probably asking who she was, Taylor thought. Logically not that many people had probably even heard of Portunes or… Well, Keynote. Stupid name. Even if they had though, they wouldn’t have seen her in her new costume.

Still, even if Portunes wasn't a house hold name yet, she hoped one day it would be and seeing a few people, even if they were just kids, encouraged by her wave made Taylor feel like today had mattered. That even if it was something as minor as making some children smile she’d made a difference.

After a few minutes Taylor hoped off the ledge, vanishing from the view with a flurry of her cloak. The thought made Taylor giggle to herself, the theatrics of it all and playing to the audience. It felt great, like she was a kid again, stealing her Mom's towels to play capes.

This made Taylor slow to a stop.

What would her Mom think of her doing this?

Would she be angry? Would she think she was wasting her potential? Or would she give Taylor her blessing? Kiss her head and tell Taylor she was proud of her. Taylor felt warmth emanating from the Melody of Lost, the keyblade which so reminded her of the flute she’d lost. Her mother’s flute. She smiled, Melody approved and Taylor liked to think that her Mom would be proud of her for being a hero. It brought a light feeling to her chest even as her eyes pricked.

Taylor loved it.

News had clearly spread about her.

The white vans and the chattering reporter pointing up at her was proof that people were talking about Taylor, well, Portunes anyway. They were reporting on her of all people, she the once friendless loser and social reject of Winslow High School was a Cape on TV!

The surrealism was only upped when Sabah dressed as Parian peered over the edge when she brought Taylor her lunch, giving the crowd a wave of her own.

"New capes are quality news; any one of those reporters would give their camera man to the devil for a chance to interview you right now." She said as flashes went off, snapping the image of Parian and Portunes, together.

"We've had Jessica take up detail at the foot of the stairs. Ingrid had to drag two of our usual employees into her office and give them a chewing out for trying to sneak up with their phones. Jessica insisted it was a bad idea and they took her advice." Sabah said with a hint of amusement.

Taylor sat listening to Sabah with her mouth open.

"I get new capes are interesting, but this seems, well, excessive." Taylor said, hearing the chaos below. Sabah nodded, sipping from a thermos of tea, retreating to sit closer to the door, where the dress wearing cape had a blanket spread out complete with picnic lunch. It was very... Sabah.

"It's usually not, most new capes that are in position to be interviewed are inducted by the PRT. New Wards or Protectorate members are hidden away until the PRT can re-design them, market them, hash out their cape persona's and display them in the best possible light where they can. It's very clockwork and the paparazzi know they just have to wait until the invitation to a conference is sent in the mail." Sabah said before taking another sip of her tea. Taylor smiled as she opened her flask and took a sip, the aroma making the surrounding air seemed relaxed, like they were at a cafe instead of on a roof with a crowd waiting for their appearance.

"With us? Rogues or Independents? It's more exciting, we don't have hordes of PR people running after us, trying to fit us in to the kid friendly costume version of Barbie and the nutcracker. We don’t have all our lines carefully scripted and our every word inspected by a PR team. It's more real and with us, first dibs on the money shot." Sabah said with a scoff. Taylor froze, a sandwich halfway to her mouth.

"That's pretty harsh, bad experiences?" She asked. Sabah fiddled with one her fake curls.

"Sort of, I was approached before by the Wards and I didn't like what I saw. Ha! As if that wasn’t insult enough, I’m 18! Stupid height.” Sabah groused.

Taylor paused at that. She supposed it was true, Sabah was shorter than her but then most girls were. Not many girls were around 5’9” after all. Taylor snorted as Sabah continued.

“It’s not just that, I mean, I could clear that up easy enough. No. It’s how they focus on appearance, you know? I don’t mind looking good, that’s more or less my job. It’s that it’s… false? Living a lie. They put all this emphasis on being a Hero, doing good, yada, yada, yada. But they just mean catching criminals, fighting villains, violence… Wards die, you know? Not often but they do. Protectorate members even more. If I joined I’d be expected, forced, to fight and maybe die. And they try to make it all seem okay like a smile and nice costume wash all the blood away. I don’t like fighting, I don’t like violence. I don’t want anyone trying to tell me who I am or what I have to do. Not again. I just want be Parian and make dresses and do kids shows and… I… I just… I just want to be me, you know?” Sabah kept talking, becoming more and more passionate. Yet Taylor could sense the hurt, the pain hidden behind the older girl’s words. It was the same pain Taylor felt whenever she was confined, when someone reminded her of… that… place…

Blood, dripping. It stank so bad! They were crawling in her hair!

Taylor shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut and focusing on her friends voice to drown the images out.

“I mean, some of them are okay, some I really respect, but it's hard to forget they have bosses and those bosses have bosses and they all just want you to do what you're told, when you're told. I… I couldn’t do that." Sabah finished, shuddering.

Hesitantly, unsure if it was appropriate, Taylor reached out and put her arm around Sabah. The older girl leaned into her when she did so Taylor assumed it was the right move and gave her friend a reassuring squeeze. It felt… nice to give back the comfort she’d taken.

"I considered joining them before I met you, but now after Shadow Stalker and what you said just now ..." Taylor said, uncertainty in her voice. Sabah shook her head before moving it to rest on Taylor's shoulder.

"Ignore me, don't let me form your opinions for you. Or Shadow Stalker for that matter. I'm sure you'll meet them and you'll like them. It's just you met the… Oh what was the phrase. Um… Ah! It’s just you met the token-evil-team-mate first." Sabah said with a smile in her voice.

They stayed liked that for a few minutes more, just enjoying each other’s company. Reluctantly Sabah pushed away and rose to her feet and began packing their late lunch away. Looking at Taylor she nodded and gave Sabah a thumb’s up.

"Break times over, I got to go put an appearance in again before they start invading the office building opposite us and getting sniper cameras, wish me luck." Taylor said with more enthusiasm than she really felt, sad that lunch with her friend was over. Sabah put a finger to her chin, in mock concern.

"Make sure you're head doesn't get too big or you might fall off the edge." Sabah teased as she left.

After a few hours, the audience had eventually died down from its previous fever pitch to just a few curious gazes, but Taylor felt her first day as an official cape was a success.

Granted, she hadn't really done anything, just stood around on a roof and looked cool. But that also meant that she hadn't done anything wrong and that was an improvement over her last two outings. It had been nice really, no one trying to kill her, no one getting hurt. The worst she’d had to deal with people waving really enthusiastically at her, which she returned in kind. The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon as it approached five and people finished work for the day and soon she’d go back to the studio with Sabah.

Today had been awesome and Taylor was feeling on top of the world instead of a just three story building.

That's when the roof of a nearby building suddenly contorted and bent, letting a smallish figure step between the buildings like it was a small creak instead of a 50 foot gap. A mixture of forest green and whites and a red visor clued Taylor in that she was looking at Vista, the youngest but longest serving member of the Brockton Bay Wards.

If Taylor was remembering correctly and given the display just then she thought she was, the younger girl’s power made space and distance bend in such a way that distance and direction were merely polite suggestions rather than hard fact. The overall effect made a really powerful Shaker, an area danger cape. Unbelievably powerful if online rumors were correct.

Before Taylor could think what to say to Vista, who had spotted her and raised a hand in greeting, another figure descended from the sky.

A rust red costume with a helmet covering half his face in the same color accented with silver trim. On his chest was a blue shield surrounding the Wards emblem.

Aegis, the newest leader of the Brockton Bay Wards.

Apparently he was some kind of regenerating brute and could fly, fairly standard Alexandria package but no less cool. What? Taylor had always dreamed of flying and whilst the Keyblade was fantastic… Taylor still wanted to fly.

Snapping back to the present Taylor watched as Aegis landed in front of her while Vista walked closer. Holding out his hand Aegis spoke first.

"Hi there, you must be Keynote." He said with genuine pleasantness.

Taylor twitched as she made a mental note to kill Mog later.

Little Pom hair, by little Pom hair.

Chapter Text

Fights with the Wards were bad, Taylor told herself as Aegis spoke with confidence.

"It's actually Portunes." Taylor snapped, hating what was already becoming a well-rehearsed line, it wasn't that hard to remember.

Aegis paused in mid-offer, his hand hanging in the air, unsure if she would shake it.

Seeing Aegis pause Taylor realized how rude she was appearing by correcting him in such a tone.
He was the Wards leader and her equivalent of Parian and if she’d ever tried to talk to her friend and nominal boss that way...

To try and make up for it she reached out and grasped Aegis’ hand, shaking it firmly. Taylor bowed her head just a little, chastising herself, it was a stupid thing to get angry over. Aegis didn't mean any harm.

"Sorry, I've been trying to correct everyone and I guess I just snapped at you." Taylor said apologetically.

Aegis shook his head and his wry grin gave Taylor the impression he was amused. Vista came to a stop next to Aegis and Taylor had to admit it to herself that the duo gave off an impressive vibe, very heroic.

Well, if nothing else the PRT’s Public Relations was damn good at what they do.

"Don't worry about it, but Portunes? I guess that would be the name Assault forgot." Aegis said, crossing his arms, his wry grin stretching into a much warmer smile.

Taylor felt her eye twitch as a spike of vengeful wrath coursed through her. The man who had ruined her debut.

Assault.

Taylor would have her revenge.

She snapped back to the present as Vista also put her hand out. This time Taylor didn't hesitate to shake it. The younger girl had a strong grip and Taylor felt herself liking the younger girl’s cheerful grin, her smile peeking out of the darkness in response.

Releasing her hand Vista pulled the edge of the building closer to herself, space distorting as the younger girl mad herself a seat and sat on the concrete ledge from 20 feet away. "Vista, it's nice to meet you. I hate to sound like a critic, but I really like Keynote. Portunes sounds cool, but Keynote just rolls off your tongue."

Taylor stared at the stretched out concrete and reached forward to touch it, but pulled back at the last second, afraid the affect was easily disrupted and she’d send the green clad cape sprawling. Vista laughed at Taylor’s antics and patted the space next to her.

"It's fine, seriously, I've stretched my bed out for hours like this, all that space to relax. It’s great!" The younger girl said with an exaggerated stretch of her arms. Taylor, with a touch of childish excitement, sat down next to one of her local heroes. Aegis remained standing and tilted his head at Vista.

"If another news helicopter catches you warping the city for fun Piggot will drag you into her office the moment we get back." He said, his voice serious, but Taylor once again felt like he was jesting. He just… lacked the spite or the apathy she normally associated with bullying. Despite his serious tone Taylor felt he sounded… nice? Concerned, that was it.

Vista just waved her hand, brushing his comment off with a nonchalance Taylor envied.

"Shush Aegis, I'm trying to impress the new girl." Vista said and shot a grin at Taylor who smiled back, even if it was barely visible in her hoods enchanted darkness. This was so cool, her, Taylor Hebert, of all people, laughing with Vista. Taylor pushed down her inner fan girl and ran a hand across the concrete where it was stretched.

"I knew you were capable of some pretty amazing things, but this is beyond what I expected. It’s… cool. Really cool. Can you stretch space anywhere?" Taylor asked excitedly.

That caused a pause though and Taylor saw Vista share a glance with Aegis. Why would they need to share a secret look? What had she done wrong? It's not like she asked anything perso...

"Oh. I am so sorry! I wasn't digging for information on your powers, I was just curious and I haven't met many capes so it's all kind of new and exciting and I really think it’s cool that you guys are here, I mean you're the Wards!" Taylor babbled, almost forgetting to breathe.

'Shut up Taylor! You sound like an idiot.' Her own mind hissed at her, but her mouth was just out of control as Taylor kept talking, apologizing profusely. After another few moments without any sign of Taylor stopping Vista waved her hands in mock surrender.

"I totally understand, it’s exiting on our end as well. New capes that aren't trying to fight us? Who aren’t hostile and all ‘Authority? Must smash!’ It's like Christmas." She teased and Taylor felt her face heat up, grateful her shadowed hood would hide her red cheeks.

"Is the hood tinker tech? No matter what angle I look at it remains shrouded in darkness, even with my advance eye sight." Aegis said suddenly. “Or is it another power? Some kind of darkness or shadow generation?”

Taylor felt her hands reach up and pull her hood down further, panic welling up inside her chest.

"W-why are you asking?" Taylor said, her breathing becoming more rapid. Sure she’d been asking Vista a similar question but… Was this it? The PRT information gathering, trying to find out her powers and even her identity? Would this be where they asked her to join and tried to twist her arm if she said no? Wait… He was already after her civilian identity! Why else was he trying to look past the darkness hiding her face? No, she wouldn't…

Aegis cut her thoughts off, noticing Taylor’s rising panic as her breathing sped up and head darted around, as if looking for an escape route.

"Do not worry; it is just a really impressive effect and like yourself, I was curious. But I can see I have upset you. Sorry, my mistake. I know how rough it can be after… Well, you know. So, sorry if I brought up any bad memories." The red clothed ward said and stopped talking.

Bad memories? Taylor wondered what he was… Oh. He was talking about… about… Well, the second worst day of her life. He thought he’d brought that up somehow. Damn. Now she felt like an ass for worrying him, so Taylor stood and took a few steps towards the boy, letting him see the smile she forced onto her face.

"I'm sorry, you caught me off guard. I'm very happy to meet you and talk to you, but I... I haven't had good experiences with authority figures and I keep thinking that maybe... you're here to give me the sales pitch on the Wards and I'm worried that you'll take my answer the wrong way and then I’d be labelled a villain and... I couldn't deal with that."

Vista and Aegis stared at her for a few seconds before Vista snorted.

"I'm not going to lie, Piggot was very keen on us ‘making a good impression on a potential recruit', her words not mine, and to be honest..." Vista trailed off and looked over the edge where people milled around, spotting the Wards entry. “Well, we’d never call you a villain just for telling us no. And, well, you look like you're doing pretty good here. So I'm not even going to pretend to give you the whole ‘speech.’ Like I said before, I'm just happy you're not against us. A lot of the time, we're pretty out-numbered on the cape front and, depending on who we fight, out gunned until the Protectorate sends help."

Vista trailed off there and seeing the younger Ward stop Aegis nodded in agreement before taking up the talk.

"I can see you like where you are at as well. A legitimate security job is a nice way to build experience without most of the danger being an independent hero brings. It is also a good way to get recommendations for the future, and earn money without resorting to villainy. Good on you for that. Also, as Vista said, I can see trying to give you such an obvious sales pitch would not endear us to you. Still, I would like to think we could work together in the future? I know your presenting yourself as a Rogue but having another friendly face around would be nice, especially one who is not just blowing us off because of… Ah, Shadow Stalker’s… less than personable behavior.” Aegis said, sounding pained at the end.

Taylor watched as the rust and silver coloured Ward drew himself up, almost standing at attention, all he was missing was the salute.

“As the leader of the Wards team East-North-East I would like to officially apologize for Shadow Stalker’s behaviour and attack on you. It speaks well of your character that you have allowed us to speak with you and continue to uphold the law despite a heroes failings." Aegis said, his words backed up with confidence and sincerity that Taylor wished she had on her best days.

Despite the warm sensation Aegis’s words left in her chest, Taylor felt the smile slip from her face. It was great a Hero thought she was a good person, but the mention of Shadow Stalker had rather soured the mood.

Still, he was officially apologizing for the dark-Ward’s actions and Taylor would be damned if she’d spit in their face for another person’s actions. Authority might have failed her but these two were at least trying.

"Shadow Stalker... is her own person. She made her choices that night and I assume she's paying the price, hopefully. I won't hold her choices against you." Taylor said, frowning as she thought of the aggressive girl. “So, apology accepted.”

Aegis seemed to think about what to say next, but Vista had no such regards.

"Me and Aegis here can't really share the details since we’re teammates and all, personal feelings aside. I can promise you though; Shadow is gon’na have a bad time." Vista finished with a grin.

Taylor blinked at the expression. Was that some kind of reference she was missing? Still, the bit about personal feelings seemed more important.

"You don't like her?" She asked, feeling curious at the inner workings of the Wards. Aegis remained stoic in expression, but Vista sighed, making an adorable pout.

"Not out right. Shadow Stalker just makes the small things that build relationships... difficult on purpose. 'Takes no crap' is one way to put it and Shadow sees a lot of things as crap." Vista explained and fell back on to the stretched concrete with a thump. Aegis stepped forward and pulled a card from one of the many pockets on his armour and handed it to Taylor.

"Umm... thank you?" She said as she spied several numbers typed neatly on it and two more scrawled at the bottom in pen.

"Shadow Stalker aside, this card has several numbers. Up top are the official lines for the PRT and Protectorate for emergency use and below that is the number to call if you have any questions. The bottom two are mine and Vista's work numbers when we're out patrolling the city. I would like to offer them to you in case something happens and you need back up without any strings attached or even if you would like to join us on a patrol. Maybe we can give you some feed-back on how you're doing, some tips from the pros, so to speak." Aegis said, giving her a warm smile which showed he was, if not joking, then at least not being mean spirited. He seemed like someone who genuinely wanted to help, a mythical being in Taylor’s experience.

Aegis stood back after he was finished. Taylor looked from the card to the two in front of her.

This was not at all how Taylor envisioned how the PRT’s approach would go. She was expecting invitations to fly down her chimney or for them to lay on dangers of potential problems that she may come across to frighten her into joining. She had pictured burly capes with angry expressions, glaring down at her, telling she’d be dead in six months, or armoured men asking if she was going to fight them.

This? Two Wards just coming by for a conversation? This was far more clever. Whether Vista and Aegis knew about it or not, the PRT was not allowing her to remain at the shop without zero pressure. They were hinting she should join, not because it was dangerous or trying to call her a villain. They were trying to play her loneliness against her. A sort of "See? We’re not the bad guys, give it time and you might like us." approach.

It might have even worked if it weren’t for Sabah.

Or was Taylor just reading way too much into a conversation and a card?

Vista stood, startling Taylor with the suddenness of her action.

"Well that about covers it from the political angle, so how about we get down to the fun part?" The green girl said excitedly, Aegis frowned and spoke up.

"I thought we agreed we wouldn't hassle her like this?" He said, his tone clearly disapproving. Vista waved him off and spun to face Taylor.

"Can we see your sword? I've only heard about it and I really want to see if it looks like a giant key! Please~!" Vista said, her grin infectious.

Taylor laughed and nodded, her own smile twitching at the younger girls antics. She’d been expecting this and had honestly been expecting something way worse. Aegis shot Taylor an apologetic smile, but didn't disagree anymore.

Taylor held her hand in front of her, slowly raising it and made a gripping motion.

With a flash and faint whistle the Melody of the Lost appeared in her grip, followed by the sounds of impressed ‘woah’s’ from Vista and Aegis.

Taylor felt cool for the first time since the Wards had arrived, like finally she was the one with something to show rather than just being the newbie. Taylor held out the Keyblade for inspection as Vista came closer and looked it over.

"I have to say, it looks pretty awesome. The rose and the flute motif are kind of bizarre but it works, like a deadly musician type of thing. Beware the thorns!" Vista gushed a little before she caught herself.

"Can I hold it?" The young Ward asked, clasping her hand and looking alarmingly excited and adorable at the question.

"Vista, that's a bit far." Aegis said, uncrossing his arms and moving to cut her off.

Taylor shrugged though, not seeing the harm in it. Besides, it gave her an idea she’d been wanting to try and been unable to trick Sabah into. With a twirl of her wrist, the whole Keyblade spun in her grip and came to rest with the key-chain facing towards Vista.

"Don't whack anything to hard, it’s sharp despite its appearance." She said in a friendly tone. Vista nodded seriously and grabbed the Keyblade.

With a swipe she swung it above her head and said loudly.

"By the power of Vista!" She cried, grinning up at the sword clasped in her hand. The young blonde gasped though as the keyblade vanished from her grip and appeared in Taylor's hands.

Taylor thought the top of her head might fall off her grin was so wide as she gave the Keyblade a twirl in her hands.

"What was that?" Taylor asked Vista, pointing to the Wards's still raised hand, laughter bubbling up at the Wards’ shocked expressions.

The other capes relaxed when they heard Taylor laughing, realizing it was a prank and the Keyblade wasn't exploding under Vista's touch. Vista went red around the neck as she answered.

"Is this the show where the character has a magic sword and... Well it doesn't matter, you can't lose that sword? One that can only be wielded by the true king?" Vista asked, quickly changing the subject. Taylor walked over to Vista's warped space and sat down.

"This is the Melody of the Lost, not Excalibur. And, it just comes to me when I need it. I can always feel it, just at the back of my mind." Taylor explained, feeling her pride swell as Vista and Aegis paid rapt attention to her. Taylor placed the Keyblade gently down on the concrete and suddenly the space she was sitting on warped and snapped back to normal.

Leaving Taylor sitting on empty air.

With a squeak, she landed heavily on her ass.

A second passed before Vista bent over and laughed hard. Her face rapidly turning red as she fought for breath.

Aegis’s lips quivered rapidly but he helped her climb to her feet whilst managing to maintain his decorum.

With a mumbled goodbye that she was sure that Aegis didn't hear over Vista's gasps for air, Taylor picked up her Keyblade and rapidly hauled ass to the door to the stairs, her face bright red.

"Keep in touch!" Aegis called as she flew down the stairs, a smile in his voice.

Taylor felt like a nerd, awkward and embarrassed but… Aegis and Vista had been fun, they’d apologized for Shadow Stalker and hadn’t twisted her arm, hadn’t threatened her. There really were heroes in the world and she was one of them.

She was still smiling as she hugged a confused Parian at the bottom of the stairs.

Taylor had a problem.

It wasn't a problem Taylor thought she’d ever encounter again in her life. After all, being a Cape had seemed to make such things trivial, and yet here it was, once more rearing its ugly head.

Parental permission.

After her first successful day, ignoring her failure in front of Aegis and Vista aside, Ingrid wanted Taylor to become a part time employ and have Portunes appear whenever she could. However, unless you were the Protectorate you couldn’t officially employ a Cape as legally they didn’t exist. No birth certificate, no driver’s license, and most importantly, no IRD number. That meant to get paid a Cape had to be employed in their civilian identity, necessitating outing themselves. It was still a major point of conflict with many Capes and the government and was part of what caused the formation of the Elite, a group of business and profit oriented villains.

Regardless of any villains though, it meant for Taylor to get legally paid she had to be on the books as Taylor Hebert, not Portunes. So in the spirit of the unwritten rules and trying to keep Taylor's identify a secret, Ingrid had left Sabah in charge of going over the fine print of her contract. Which meant she would get paid. Which meant she would have a job. Which meant she had to have permission from her guardians. Which meant she had to tell her dad.

It was kind of funny really, here she was a Super-Hero who’d fought for her life against Super-Villains, saved civilians and wowed the public… and she still needed her Dad’s permission to get a job.

Capes and law were an odd couple.

More though, there were numerous additional laws that applied to parahumans and not just active capes that didn’t apply to normal humans. After all a normal teenage girl couldn’t lift trucks or shoot lasers from her eyes. The law made it out as the capes responsibility to always use their power safely, likening it to a live gun in their hands. The last thirty years or so had seen rapid constitutional reforms and new laws passed in response to the emergence of parahumans, particularly those with lots of power.

No one wanted a second coming of Glastig Uaine after all.

For instance, if you could fly, then nothing short of an Endbringer or another S-class threat would get you out of trouble if you were caught flying around in another country’s airspace. That was one of the most basic and simple rules, Taylor could think of.

There were laws that existed for parahumans in any official sports competition. Thinkers were banned from casinos, betting agencies, politics, stock markets, and the weather forecast. Movers were prohibited from using their powers in residential zones. Blasters were treated as if they were willingly carrying around heavy weaponry everywhere. Shakers had entire laws dedicated to their violation of the laws of physics. Strangers were judged per case when, and more often than not if, they got caught.

Masters... were a whole other ball game in recent years; ever since the appearance of Heartbreaker.

The whole justice system had new rules appearing all the time for one thing or another and all them seemed designed to control parahumans, to bring them under the Protectorates control or just lock them up.

A lot of those laws were cracking down on under age capes now. As the first second generation capes began to appear, more and more younger people were triggering. This was causing an unprecedented amount of underage capes that the government was trying to herd together by making it impossible for any capes to legally use their powers for self-gain without outing themselves and for underage capes it required the further step of parental permission.

Which lead to Taylor's current problem.

"I can't tell him. Sabah, please, there has to be another way!" Taylor pleaded as houses rushed past the car window.

The sky appeared to be on fire as the sun set for the day, and it lit up Sabah's car in an odd way that made Taylor sleepy despite her racing thoughts.

Sabah looked at her as she steered them down the road, drawing closer to Taylor's street and house, which Taylor had foolishly given her the address of before she decided to ask why Sabah wanted it.

"Taylor, I'm not forcing you to do anything, I'm just going to be there in case you start to panic." Sabah explained calmly, before quickly adding in a more amused tone then paused, her lips screwing up in thought.

"Well, more panicked than you are now. I can't legally employ you at the Doll House unless we get your Dad on board. I'm not going to risk the employees or Ingrid's investments because you can't talk to your Dad. You've talked to me about him; I thought the two of you were okay?" The other girl asked her.

Taylor bit her lip as she chose her words. This was something she herself had been wondering.

"We are... it's just, he's my Dad and I didn't want him involved at first because I wasn't sure where’d I end up. I’d sort of planned on being an independent hero, not a security guard and… and… I just… I wanted to…" Taylor trailed off, unsure how to express herself.

Sabah nodded, understanding Taylor’s unvoiced message.

"You wanted to keep him safe. That's not a bad thing but what’s the real reason?" She said without accusation. Taylor felt her cheeks burn a little at how easy Sabah seem to read her.

"...I didn't want to share my secret. After… After I woke up, it was all I had and I just… I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t. He’d worry or panic and then I get dragged off to the Wards or some other place. Dad isn't great at handling personal things… Not… Not since Mom died. Mom could just look at people and know how to act, but Dad gets angry or he gets worried. I just wanted to be it to be my secret, something they couldn’t take or ruin. I wanted something that was mine and no one else’s and not become part of the Wards… and that sounds really bad now that I’m saying it aloud." Taylor said quickly, the words pouring out of her at Sabah, who sat and listened with full attention.

"You were afraid. You went through hell and you finally got something to help you through it. You were worried he might take it away from you, wrap you up in so much bubble wrap it wouldn’t be yours anymore." Sabah said, confirming Taylor's feelings.

"I love my Dad, but..." Taylor began. “But… when Mom died, he just… He gave up. He wasn’t there when I needed him. I was crying in bed and he was just drinking! I… I wanted my dad and he was just staring straight ahead while I cooked pasta. He… I love him but he…”

Taylor stopped, surprised as Sabah lay a hand on her thigh, rubbing gently to calm her.

“Taylor… I never really knew my Dad. He died when a few years back, shortly after we came to America. He got ill and died due to stress, so my family could make the trip here and I wish I could have known him better. He was a stern man and I was too timid to try and get to know him. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that I did and end up losing your family like me.” Sabah said, giving her a smile even if Taylor could see the pain behind it.

“Just try Taylor, give your Dad a chance. You can’t just judge and sentenced him without ever giving him a chance to prove himself. Even if he failed when your mother died, he loves you still, right? You told me about the hospital a while back, he didn’t reject you for hiding the bullying, he wanted to help you. Everyone deserves a second chance, so give your dad one okay? For me?” Sabah squeezed her hand and Taylor found her hand now griping Sabah’s, having grabbed the hand on her leg like her life depended on it.

Taylor squeezed back, trying to be strong for her friend. “O-Okay Sabah. For you.”

What Sabah had said sounded so logical and the older girl sounded so sure. Taylor had to agree her dad hadn't wronged her. She just didn't want him involved in her Cape identity, but why shouldn’t he be? It was easy to throw herself at villains when it was just herself she was worrying about, but if she had to worry about her dad waiting up for her late at night with a first aid kit then it just became harder, more stressful.

He… He deserved that chance though, so she’d give it to him.

Sabah stopped her junker of a car outside Taylor's home, pulling up at the curb. With a growing sense of dread, despite her resolution, Taylor spotted her dad's car. He hadn't, for the first time ever it seemed, been called into work on a Sunday due to some emergency or other problem.

Taylor eyed Sabah out the corner of her eye, a terrible suspicion taking root. Did her friend have another power? Some kind of reality warping to make other people have uncomfortable situations? Taylor was almost sure of it.

Looking forwards again Taylor swallowed. Fighting with the tightening of her chest and feelings she was bottling within, Taylor got out the car and walked into the house with Sabah trailing behind her. She was home and her dad was waiting for her.

Entering through the front door Taylor put her coat on one of the hooks by the door without even looking, gazing into the house as she listened.

No sound coming from the TV, so Dad wasn't in the living room.

The shower was quiet, so he wasn’t upstairs.

The coffee machine was rumbling away though. That meant her dad was in the kitchen.

So, to the kitchen then. Taylor turned to Sabah and was about to say something when she spotted Sabah looking at her childhood pictures hanging on the wall behind them.

"Christ, I forgot about them." Taylor moaned with a touch of horror. She hadn't had friends over in so long that the pictures had become benign.

Sabah giggled and pointed to one in particular.

"I like the paint job." The darker skinned girl said, her blue eyes sparkling prettily.

Taylor followed her finger and spotted her younger self covered in white paint from when her Dad had been repainting inside the house. He’d been painting her room and Taylor had tried to help but instead she’d knocked over the paint tin when she was messing about. Her mom hadn't rushed to clean her or the floor up or freak out though. No. Taylor's mother calmly walked downstairs and returned with the camera.

"I was picking paint flakes out my hair for years after that." Taylor said with a small smile as she thought back on happier times, the sound of her Mothers laughter and her Father’s chuckles echoing in her ears.

"Taylor?" Her Dad's voice carried from the kitchen.

Starting at the sudden call, Taylor motioned for Sabah to follow, and headed towards the kitchen. Taylor gulped, her nerves returning as she was about to tell her Dad about her secret, her true self, and how Sabah was helping her adjust to her new situation, being in the same boat.

It sounded easy.

Taylor knew it would be anything but.

Entering the kitchen Taylor spotted her dad relaxing in a chair at the kitchen table, an empty plate from a late lunch and news-paper spread out in front of him. He stood when Sabah came in, a confused and yet pleased expression crossing his face.

"Well, hello there, I wasn't expecting anyone else besides Taylor." He said with good nature and a subtle look towards Taylor, who went pink.

Taylor hadn't told him she was brining Sabah, true. She had been too busy freaking out at the incoming bomb of her dad learning of her cape life to mention it when she’d called earlier. She was regretting that now. Still, introductions needed to made.

"Dad, this Sabah. She's my friend, the girl I've been hanging out with and staying over at her flat." Taylor said, making the introductions. “Sabah, this is my dad, Danny Hebert.”

Danny’s face lit up at this, a warm smile stretching his lips.

"So this is the person who's been making off into the night with my little girl? It’s nice to meet you. Also, I like your top." He said to Sabah, his eyes flicking over the older girls shirt.

Taylor groaned as Sabah grinned back at her dad. She just knew her dad would take Sabah’s side and soon her wardrobe of comfortable hoodies and baggy jeans would be gone, replaced with midriff baring tops, denim jackets and… Taylor shuddered, Sabah’s skinny jeans.

Worse, her dad’s chuckling meant he found Sabah’s habit funny! Her friend had an odd habit that Taylor hadn't noticed straight away. Always, somewhere on her person, Sabah would wear something strange, something cringe worthy. Something which, while fitting, was always something that would, if not cause offense, then make people stare. Today it was Sabah’s hoodie. A cartoon cat sat with its paw waving with the words "I'm Meta-fur-kitty awesome."

The pun was so bad Taylor had rolled her eyes practically back into her head when she saw it. And her dad loved it. Of course he did.

"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Hebert, I've heard a lot about you." Sabah said with a wide smile and tilted head, the perfect image of friendliness.

"Nothing too bad, I hope." He replied lightly, shooting a grin at Taylor, who smiled back.

Sabah hummed, her grin turning mischievous.

"I heard something about a raise in an allowance..." She trailed off, seeing Taylor eyes pop out of her head at the double meaning.

"My allowance is fine Dad, she's just joking." Taylor cut off her Dad's incoming question, fresh panic rising in her voice. What if her da thought she was… No, she had to focus. Focus on telling him.

"Well at least someone here has a sense of humor." Her Dad said and ruffled her hair.

Taylor slapped his hands away lightly, struggling not to blush as he embarrassed her in front of Sabah.

"Anyone want something to drink, we’ve got some OJ kicking about the fridge, I think?" Both of the girls nodded and when his back was turned Sabah raised her eye brow at Taylor, a question in her look.

Taylor felt her stomach clench, churning till it felt full of froth. This was… This was the moment. Why she’d brought Sabah, or, well, Sabah had brought her here for.

When her dad returned with the glasses of juice, Taylor spoke, with a tremble in voice.

"D-Dad? We need to t-talk."

Danny looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly at her tone and stuttering voice. But he sat, calmly sliding each of the girls a glass and keeping one for himself. Taking a sip he nodded gently to her.

"I'm here for you kiddo, is everything okay?" He asked gently. Taylor felt her tongue go dry. She couldn't do this. Panic over whelmed all thought, all the lines she had thought of, the speech she’d prepared in advance… gone. All gone.

Her breath hitched as she tried to regulate it, tried to stop the steadily increasing pace. Taylor opened her mouth to speak, but her damn tongue didn't want to move leaving her jaw opening and closing but no sound coming out.

Her Dad's expression grew increasingly worried as she continued to sit there, unable to make a sound.

Suddenly a hand grasped hers and gave a reassuring squeeze. Taylor turned her head, coming face to face with Sabah as the Arabic girl leaned close and gave her a smile, a soft one just curving edges of her lips.

"Breath Taylor, it's okay. I'm here, trust me and we can do it together." The other girl said.

Taylor glanced down at their joined hands. Sabah’s fingers felt warm, comforting. She wasn’t alone. Looking back up into blue eyes Taylor nodded and drew in a sharp breath, turned to her Dad and spoke at the exact same time as him.

"You're a Lesbi-"
"Dad, I'm a cap-"

There was a silence in the kitchen, except for a wooden clock ticking away on the wall.

"I’m a what?" Taylor asked incredulously.

"You're a cape, Taylor." Sabah said quickly, withdrawing her hand, her face scarlet. Taylor looked at her friend, confused by her blush. Shrugging as it didn’t seem important; she turned back to her dad who was just sitting there motionless.

"...a cape?" He asked, his voice small.

Taylor hesitantly nodded.

"Ever… Ever since the Locker." She said quietly, worried any loud noises might set him off. Whilst she knew her father had a temper, he’d rarely shown it to her. Only twice she could recall. No, she was much more worried about sending him back into that pit of despair he’d been in after her mother passed. She never wanted to see him like that again.

Breathing steadily for a few moments, as if steeling himself Danny nodded, his head moving slowly. Then he looked at Sabah.

"Are you..." He trailed off, not sure how to handle the words correctly, how to voice his question without accusing the older girl of something.

Sabah also nodded. "I am. You might know me better as Parian."

Danny nodded slowly again then became still again. He sat there, silent, unmoving.

As time began to drag Taylor’s anxiety grew, her stomach churning with fear.

"Dad?" Taylor finally asked, her tone uncertain, brittle. She was afraid her dad… Dad wouldn’t accept her, that she’d be thrown out and the only family she had left would reject her. That they wouldn’t reconnect and she couldn’t give him a second chance. They’d cut ties and…

Her Dad's head swiveled up to face her form looking at the table.

"Why Taylor? Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice hurt, confused, and lost. Taylor opened her mouth… And slumped back like she had been struck, her reasons now feeling stupid. She hadn’t told him why? Because he wouldn’t support her? Because he’d make her join the wards and she couldn’t deal with more teenage drama? Because he hadn’t been there for her when her mom died?

They all… They all seemed so trivial now. Not support her? He was her dad, he told her he loved every day. Make her join the Wards? He detested the government and Protectorate as much as her mom had, and she’d been Lustrum’s henchwoman. So… so what if he hadn’t comforted her, and had abandoned her when her mom died? He was here now, right? He’d been there for her after the locker, comforted her when she had nightmares. Sabah never got to know her dad. Taylor refused to make the same mistake and lose her’s before she could. He was all she had left. She’d even climbed out of that dark place to come back to him and she was just throwing her second chance away?

To hell with that!

Sabah’s voice cut across her thoughts then.

"She is, right now." Sabah said, her tone calm and firm.

Danny looked from Taylor to Sabah and back again. Then he sighed.

"That's true, two and a half months isn't so bad, but I have this feeling this meeting is more due to your influence,” Her dad nodded towards Sabah, “Than Taylor's own willingness.”

Danny chuckled humorlessly. “My girl is a good one, but she has independence issues that’re making me go grey. Don't get me wrong, I'm still very upset that you kept this from me, Taylor, but... I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand."

Then Danny raised his glass and downed the orange juice in a single gulp. Setting the glass back, he grimaced slightly, the expression showing he wished the glass had contained something stronger than fruit juice.

Still, he’d accepted her. Taylor felt something ease inside her a little. Her dad had accepted her and he still wanted her. She still had a family and home. She’d gotten her second chance… Now to give her dad his.

"So if you’re Parian, I guess that makes you her new help, Keynote?" Her Dad asked and blinked when Taylor's face turned thunderous.

"I prefer Portunes, but yes that's me." Taylor muttered.

Sabah’s lips trembled at this, fighting against a grin whilst the older girl’s shoulders quivered holding in her laughter.

Danny blinked at the odd reactions, uncertain what he’d done to make one girl angry and the other laugh.

"So what happens now? I guess there was a reason I was brought into the fold of your diabolic plan?" He asked, a little humor returning as he watched his daughter pout.

At hearing this, Taylor beamed, her fear abated and humor returning as she pulled out the paper work from the Doll House.

"I want to become a Rogue and help Sabah at the Doll House, but I can't do that without your permission." Taylor explained, more animated than she had been this whole conversation. Sabah leaned back and smiled, watching the pair reconnect.

Taylor and her Dad made eye contact, a silent reassurance passed between them and Taylor knew they'd be okay. There was a still lot for her Dad to digest and he might eventually remember she was almost killed by the E88, but Taylor wasn't going to bring that up and just pray he’d forget.

And in the mean-time she’d make up for all the lost opportunities and tell her dad she loved him so very much.

"Sabah, did you know there is a giant yellow chicken living in your house?" Danny said as he entered the studio. Boco pulled his head from the trash and trilled it at them before he spotted a newcomer.

"Kewh?" Boco said as he looked at Danny. Sabah sighed, reaching over and pulling a banana peel off Boco's beak.

"I do. Danny meet Boco the chocobo and Mog... where ever he is. Mog?" Sabah called out and then from behind a microwave, Mog's pom-pom popped up.

"Give me a few seconds, kupo, almost done." Mog answered as the sound of electricity crackling followed his voice, coming from the kitchenette.

Sabah dropped her coat on the ground and stomped forward. Taylor took a step back. She knew that face, Sabah had made that same expression when she’d accidentally damaged the floor in her sleep. Smashing a guitar on stage was a lot cooler when you were a rock star, not just dreaming you were one and summoning your sword whilst you slept.

"Done? With what? Don't you dare blow up my microwave again, I live off that thing!" Sabah said. Danny's mouth hung open at the sight of Mog quickly flying away and out of reach.

Boco gently walked up to Danny and pushed his head under the man’s hand. Danny blinked, puzzled as the… giant chicken? As the bird kept butting at his hand. Soon enough he caught on and began scratching Boco with great enthusiasm, much to Boco’s delight.

"I always wanted a dog." Danny mused, shooting Taylor a smile.

In return Taylor grinned at him and quickly vanished into Sabah's bedroom where she’d left her costume. With some quick fingers, tugging, caught zippers and a few minutes, she left Sabah’s room and stood before her Dad, in full garb, Keyblade and all.

Her Dad looked her down and up.

"White is going to be a pain to keep clean." Was the first thing he said and Taylor felt sort of let-down. Cleaning was seriously the first thing that came to mind? Not… Not how heroic she looked?

Chuckling Danny reached out and pulled her into a hug and held her tightly. Whilst he couldn’t see her face, her drooping shoulders were clue enough to his daughters mood. Leaning down he placed his mouth next to Taylor’s ear.

"My baby's a hero, a real one. You mother would be so proud of you." He whispered. Taylor was never so thankful for the hood as she was now as her face began to redden and her lips trembled with the effort it took not to cry.

"I miss her." Taylor said and Danny smiled sadly, pulling her tighter against him.

"Me too Taylor, me too."

Today had been just hell on her emotions but…

She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

With a final wave, Sabah closed front door. Smiling, Taylor watched as the door was left behind, growing smaller as Danny's car picked up speed as they traveled back home together.

"Isn't this the street the E88 attacked or something?" Danny asked, his eyes roving over the remnants of battle still getting patched up as they drove past. Taylor innocently shrugged and hid her grin.

Danny eyed her, he opened his mouth and… With a sigh he let it go. His daughter had opened up to him finally and he would not push her so hard she clammed back up again.

"So, this wasn't how I planned to spend my day off, but I can't really complain. Do you think if I leak pictures of you in costume, I can earn some quick cash?" He teased her.

Taylor shot him an unamused glare which made him chuckle.

"Fair enough." He said as he turned heading along the edge of the city towards the docks and home.

"Still, it makes me happy that you told me, even if it took a little time and some adjusting. Anyway, I left the papers signed with Sabah and I'm sure she'll make sure that it isn't seen by anyone that isn't trust worthy, or stupid. Hmm. I’m kind of excited to see if I can catch any gossip about you from the workers tomorrow. I can stand around looking all smug and knowledgeable while they discuss the new Rogue in town." Danny said with a laugh.

"Noooooo! I'll be found out in no time!" Taylor wailed dramatically, clasping her hands together as if in despair while she grinned.

Danny rolled his eyes at her antics, chuckling as they drove. The conversation was actually flowing between them for the first time in years. It made him feel lighter, like some great weight he hadn’t know he was carrying had been lifted from his shoulders. Life… wasn’t looking up, not yet. But he hoped it would be.

The car slowed as the traffic light flashed red and they rolled to a stop. Danny began to fiddle with the radio and Taylor leaned back and watched a truck move through the center of the intersection and... stop?

The truck was stereotypical battered and red. A silver tarp covered the back of it. The driver, a man sat behind the wheel and the dark interior made it hard to make out any features, but Taylor would swear she could see a man with a huge scar down the side of his face.

Horns began to blare angrily when the truck didn’t move and it only got worse when the lights changed and her dad and the other drivers couldn’t go. Glaring at the driver, Taylor felt her stomach sinking as the man in truck began to cry. He picked up a radio and something else; Taylor’s stomach stopped sinking then and outright plummeted. She knew something was horribly wrong.

The Keyblade flashed into her hands and Danny yelped. Taylor wasn’t sure how it could help, but its weight lent her a feeling of safety she desperately needed.

"Taylor, what are-" He began, but Taylor brought the keyblade up in front of his chest in a guard, pointing at the driver with her free hand.

"Dad, back up! That man is holding a rem-" Taylor said before…

And the world exploded.

There was ringing noise and it kept going and going. It was annoying and Taylor tried to reach out and stop whatever was making the noise. Her arm didn’t move. Why, what… She tried again but her arm still refused to move.

Slowly the world began to return as Taylor became conscious again. Her head felt heavy and light at the same time, like someone had stuffed her head with cotton candy then driven an axe into it. She felt dizzy and sore and… Taylor retched, spitting, desperate to get rid of the taste of blood clogging her throat. Coughing as she continued to try and spit Taylor realized there was more than just a ringing sound in the air.

There was chaos.

Screams, crying, alarms, the crackling of fire, the distant wail of sirens… Noise came from everywhere. Taylor breathed in, almost coughing again as she tried to recover her breath an d choked on smoke. The air stank, the reek of burning metal and gasoline filling nose and throat. With an effort, Taylor open her eyes and tried to make sense of what she was seeing. The… the sky was grey? Grey and covered with broken glass, red blood dripping upwards to pool… Taylor blinked, tried too. She licked her lips, almost retching again at the coppery taste. There was blood running, dripping across her face and her left eye wouldn't open.

Looking back up Taylor wondered why her blood was rising into the sky? No. It… it wasn’t floating, everything was upside down. She was upside down, still held in place by her seat belt. Moaning with the pain movement caused she fumbled for the clasp and unlatched herself, flopping onto the car roof with a strangled scream. Where… where was… she couldn’t see him, where was her dad? She reached for him, where he should because he was there and she just couldn’t see him.

She scrambled, hand flailing amidst the wreckage. Where? Where was he? He… He had to… had to be there… Where…

He wasn't there. Looking at the empty ground her hand was scrabbling at Taylor realized he wasn’t there. Looking now, really looking Taylor tried to see out of her one working eye even as she had to keep blinking blood away. Eye flickering over the damage she saw that the driver's side was ripped away, the whole side; door, wheel, seat…. They were gone. Nothing left but the bare frame of the car and melted tar studded with glass chips from the window screen.

She… She had to… find him. had to find him. Find her dad.

Taylor dragged herself out through the gaping hole and over the broken glass even as it cut her palms and knees.

She had to find him.

Finally reaching outside Taylor tried to push herself up wright, heedless of the pain and glass slicing her fingers. Something… Something was wrong though. Looking at her arms not understanding their betrayal she noticed that one of her arms wasn't right. Elbows weren’t supposed to bend that way, were they?

Gritting her teeth Taylor used her good arm to force herself upright, staggering as her feet slipped beneath her. Her legs… they felt wrong but that wasn’t important wright now. Slowly, she came up right and looked around.

She had to find him.

She had to find him but where was he?

She looked around, trying to see despite her pounding head and the black spots in her vision. There… There was smoke. Lots of smoke. And fire. Fires all… All around her. Car, trucks, buildings… All on fire and belching black smoke. Even the road was on fire, the tar melted and burning.

What… What happened?

Taylor gripped her head with her good arm, trying to force her brain to work. She… She had… Had to remember.

The truck… The truck. The red truck with the silver tarp. The truck had exploded. Her father's yells, her screaming, then…

Darkness.

Not… not helping. Taylor looked around again, desperate. He… he ahd to be here. He had to be okay because he promised he would be there for her. They’d got their second chance and he would be there.

Focusing, Taylor noted the street where the bomb went off was now a sea of flames, whatever the bomb was made from had managed to light things on fire that… that shouldn’t be burning right? Metal didn’t burn, right? The street itself was on fire and creeping towards her. She… she need to find her dad before he burned to death. Had… She had to save him. She was a hero and heroes saved people.

With frantic limps she moved forward and head darting about, searching with her one working eye.

There!

She’d spotted him a small distance away, maybe… she didn’t know how far. Small. Her dad, who had been smiling not so long ago, just laying limply next to the driver’s seat. The seat was on fire and the flames were climbing up Danny's legs. Her… her dad was burning. He shouldn’t be burning!

With furious effort she ran towards him, ignoring the black spots that blotted her vision, the darkness filling in the edges until all she could see was her dad burning! Dad was unconscious and didn't look he was breathing. He was burning!

Slumping to her kness Taylor looked at him. Her dad had a terrible head wound.

With her arms under Danny's shoulders, she pushed at his body, attempting to roll him. That… that was… was what you were supposed to do right? Stop, drop and roll! Taylor giggled. She’d mad a funny! The pain was flashing behind her eyeballs. Pushing again and not expecting Taylor was not to make much progress, but he slide rolled fairly easily and most of the flames guttered out as they became coated in wet tar. She… she needed to get her dad away though. Away from… Away from the burning and the pain. With some effort Taylor was able to grab her dad by his shoulder and she dragged her dad a less on burnt part of the street.

Looking at him she saw there were still some of the flames on her dad. Pulling off her coat, her moth contorting as her elbow bent wrong, taylor hauled the denim jacket had given her off and beat at the remaining burny flames on her fathers legs. When they were finally all gone, Taylor put fingers to her Dad's throat and felt for a pulse like they did in all th action movies… Why… There was no pulse.

No. Had to focus, not… on her thoughts. Taylor needed to focus!

She pushed harder on his throat , desperately shifting her fingers and still felt nothing.

No, no, no.

Taylor lay on him back and put an ear to his chest.

No, no, no!

There was no sound, no thump-thump of life, no steady rhythm she drifted off to sleep with many times when she was younger

No heart-beat.

NO, NO, NO!!

The fire was all around them now and as Taylor watched it was drawing closer to her dad who had no heart beat! Without thinking Taylor slashed at the flames with her Keyblade and the fire swirled, spinning around her then winking out, like it had never been. Taylor stared, then looked at the Keyblade. Mog had called it magical. If Taylor ever felt desperate enough to believe in magic then it was right now.

"Fix him, please, I need you to fix dad. Please, I can't lose him, not now, not today. Come on!" Taylor screamed as she pointed the Keyblade at her fathers... body.

This wasn't... real. It couldn’t be real. She… She wouldn’t let it be real!

"Fucking fix him, you piece of crap, I'm not asking, I'm telling you. To. Fix. Him!" Taylor screamed, her voice burning with rage, her words drowning out the surrounding noise, eclipsing the roaring fire.

The Melody of the Lost glowed and there was a green shower of sparks that washed over her Father’s body and then...

Coughing, his chest began rising and falling, ragged breaths drawn through clenched teeth.

Taylor dropped the Keyblade with a clatter and pull Danny to herself.

Her tears dripped down her blackened, blood stained face as she sobbed in relief.

Her dad was alive. He was alive!

The thought leant Taylor clarity she’d been missing. Looking up and listening she could hear sirens approaching. By the time they got here though, Taylor knew she and her father would be dead, swallowed by the flames. She looked at the shortest path out of the flames and counted at least 20 steps before she’d be free of the fire.

Taylor couldn't carry her dad but there no way she was leaving him like this. She couldn’t carry him…

With a snarl she stood.

…but she do it anyway because heroes saved people.

With rising horror and grim determination settling in Taylor picked up her father.

He was heavy and she felt her knees buckle but she refused to fall.

He was cumbersome and her arm screamed at her but she would not let go.

He was a burden and he mad it hard to breathe but she would not leave him.

Then Taylor walked forward into the fire and even as the flames swirled around her legs and her feet began to char and her calves blacken… She held her father high.

Officer Peters would always remember the day that the middle of town was set on fire.

Not because of the fire, or the agonized screaming, or the shattered buildings, or even charred corpses.

But because of the girl. He had just stepped out his car and was looking around, trying to see where he could be most useful, when he spotted a shadow in the flames.

With bile rising in his throat, he saw a girl carrying a man twice her size walk out of the roaring inferno. Her hair was flying about her head, smoldering in the heat as hot air whipped at her, her skin slowly reddening then blackening from the bottom up while blooded dripped and from a face stained red by it.

It was her expression though, that scarred him though. She didn’t look hurt or in pain, not sad face was not of pain, but a terrible, all-consuming rage, as if the universe itself had offended her. She wasn’t crying, she made no sound, her mouth locked in a rictus of hate, but her eyes...

They would haunt the man forever. Her eyes were unwavering, hotter than the flames that were consuming her body. He made the sign of the cross and after a moment’s hesitation went for his radio, not his gun and called for an ambulance at his current location.

Later that week he retired to desk duty for the rest of his career, unsure is he could be trusted with a gun after that day as he’d nearly shot a girl for walking out of a fire. He’d nearly killed a civilian because they looked scary.

He still woke him up screaming though, her eyes boring into his soul.

Taylor sat next to the sterile bed. The switch in position was not lost her, yet the irony was a bitter pill to swallow. The repetitive beeps reassured her that her dad was still alive, the idea of his life seeming so frail now. Something that had been a certainty now seemed so fragile and she couldn’t bear to lose him.

The time between the attack and being in the hospital seemed to a hazy blur. People had sat her down, talked to her, treated her burns, asked more questions and Taylor just couldn't see the point. It was her dad who’d nearly died and needed magic to bring him back, not her. Even when they’d sedated her for surgery she’d been trying to get them to treat him first.

Sitting beside his bed now, bandages wrapped around her hands and her arm in a sling after they’d put her elbow back into its socket, Taylor felt weak. Her knees were wrapped up too, the glass she’d embedded in them when she feel out of her seat thankfully removed. She looked at her dad and felt horrible because he wouldn’t wake up.

At least they hadn’t been in one of the other areas hit though, at least she’d been there and the keyblade had blocked the worst of the blast for her because…

It wasn't just her dad and herself that were hit. Taylor and her Dad had been two of only thirty in her area, while dozens had died. Worse, they were only one of three areas to be hit by a bomb. The entire hospital was rushed to pick up the slack at the triple digit casualty list.

In retrospect Taylor had been lucky. The bomb at the intersection she’d been at had created a fire so hot someone had likened it to the sun. It hadn’t been big though and most of the damage had been caused by the air itself catching fire and exploding as well as the diesel the truck had been carrying getting thrown about.

The other streets though…

One had been snap frozen, reduced to absolute zero and everything inside the blast crystalized instantly. People, cars, the air… All reduced to frozen statues that shattered as frozen air crystals rained down.

The other street… was simply gone. Whatever the bomb had done there was a perfectly spherical hole covering half a city block that had been erased from reality. Shunted into another dimension, transmuted into air, teleported to the moon… No one knew. It was just gone along with over a hundred people.

In the aftermath of the disaster one name had circulated through the hospitals and the media, a Villain who had escaped custody in New York and come to Brockton Bay. Recruited by the Azn Bad Boyz they had shown off their new tinker. They called her the Mad Bomber of Cornnell . Her name was…

Bakuda.

Taylor didn't know anything about this 'Bakuda'. She knew capes had to go through a lot to get powers, that they all had their own stories of pain and suffering, that they’d all been forced to swallow pain and dirt but…

Taylor didn’t care. Bakuda. Mad Bomber. Whoever they were… It was now pointless. Bakuda's actions had sealed her fate. No court would ever look favorably at the images of a frozen family, their shattered remains piled together as they began to thaw and the ice ran red, thawing blood trickling over a child’s face. No person could look at the crater on 21st Street and forgive the person who had erased all those people, tourists, shoppers and businessmen lost forever. No Hero could forgive the monster who set a street on fire, the blackened bodies locked forever in their death throws.

Taylor couldn’t forgive Bakuda. Not after what she’d done.

The internet was avoided after that, Taylor had enough crap on her plate in her own life. She didn't need to see the numbers, the images, and the pain to feel any worse about something she knew that she had no power over, but still felt guilty about.

She was a hero, she was supposed to save people, save everyone… and the only person she could save had been her dad.

Taylor wondered what would have happened that day if she’d acted differently. Could she have saved everyone somehow? Maybe if she’d jumped out and rushed the truck, stopped the driver before he could press the detonator. Maybe if she’d been closer she could have blocked more of the explosion. If she’d listened to Mog and believed in magic sooner, maybe she could have controlled the fire and… stopped it somehow.

She hadn’t though. She hadn’t and so many people had paid the price. She… she had barely even saved her dad. She looked at him, hooked up to a dozen machines as they monitored his vitals whilst Taylor prayed he would wake up.

He looked so peaceful as he lay still, looking like he was just sleeping. Like she could wake him with a touch… Except she’d tried and he just slept on.

Taylor scrunched her eyes, fighting back the sobs which threatened to bubble up. She forced herself to focus on his, and his own peaceful expression helped calm her. He looked fine, peaceful and pain free, thanks as the drugs working through his system. Thankfully his recovery was nothing short of miraculous and the doctors were confident he would awaken any day now.

Miraculous… It sort of was really. Though magical would probably be a better term.

Taylor was thankful this, his recovery and her role in it. That first hour, of watching her dad writhe in pain, body shaking, his burns needing attending had been unbearable. Especially after they dragged her away to tend her own wounds, stopped her helping where she could. Couldn’t they tell his wounds were much more important? What did her life matter compared to her dad’s?

That first day had been was the hardest, she’d felt too exhausted to do anything, powerless and unable to help. Now where the nurses finished a routine check though and Taylor could help. She summoned her Keyblade and cast the healing spell, cure, over and over again, whenever she felt like whatever pool the spell pulled from refreshed. Sometimes she would find herself on the floor, minutes passed in a blackout.

It didn’t matter though, because it helped him. Her father's body healed by her power, little by little, his recovery getting faster every time.

And yet he wouldn’t wake up.

Now it was day three and Taylor was sat next to his bed again, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Sabah had gently pried her away for a shower and a meal the day before, carefully helping her redress her wounds. The water felt dull on her red skin and the food tasteless on her tongue, but she’d soldiered on and devoured everything, keeping quiet the whole night, despite Sabah's gentle prodding. She owed the older girl so much, and as she’d lain in Sabah’s bed having been forced their while her friend took the couch… Taylor quietly sworn she’d do anything to pay her friend back.

Looking at her father, she could see what the doctor meant. Her dad’s body had been remodeled, the burnt and blackened skin now a healthy pink, but it still looked raw compared to his normally pale complexion. His breathing was much better, his lungs no longer damaged and hampered by smoke inhalation. Even his head wound had closed, not even a scar remained. The pain killers now only for the brain damage he’d suffered.

Danny’s doctor hadn’t been able to tell her how serious it was, only that it was there and they’d need to do a full assessment when he woke up.

Brain damage.

The words echoed inside her head. Untreatable they’d said, nothing anyone could do. Modern medicine didn’t know how and the brain was the one thing most healers couldn’t touch, not even Panacea Brockton Bay’s own healer. The only nominal healer who could affect the brain was, to Taylor’s horror, Bonesaw of the Slaughterhouse Nine and there was no way anyone would want that psychopath poking around in their parents brain.

That meant damage was permanent unless Taylor could somehow make her own healing spell help somehow. Scaring across lobes, the man in the white coat had said. Taylor and her dad would just have to live with it for now but…

He still slept and there was nothing Taylor could do about it except hope.

Taylor didn't feel angry, she didn't feel much of anything at all.

"Thank you, I know you've done everything you can. I'm going to go sit with my Dad for a while." Taylor said, her tone flat and empty. The doctor nodded but hesitated.

"I see. Miss. Hebert, I’d like to offer my assistance again or perhaps even put you on the list for Panacea on her next visit, may I please take a look at your…" He said, but Taylor was already shaking her head and he trailed off.

"It's pointless, it doesn't hurt and it's been removed. Thank you doctor." Taylor said as she entered the single room. The doctor didn't follow her in and Taylor was glad for it.

As she sat down and picked up a book that she had brought from home to pass the time, she glanced into a mirror hung on the wall. The raw socket of her empty eye stared back at her; empty and hollow amdist burn scarred flesh, accusing her of failure and yet...

An eye was a small price to pay for stopping her father’s heart from dying, to get it beating again.

Taylor was starting to feel like she would pay the other eye from him to be okay.

The Keyblade shimmered into her hands and she held it over her father.

“Cure.” Taylor whispered. The spell and its green sparks came easily now and as the spell washed over him, her Dad looked just that little better… At least to her mind.

Taylor then banished the sword without casting it on herself, saving her strength to use on her dad again.

When her father awoke and he was okay, then Taylor would think about her eye.

Until then she would live with her failure, a reminder to herself and motivation to never. Fail. Again.

On the fifth day, as Taylor sat their reading her book she saw her dad’s eyes fluttered slightly.

The visits were growing to be a routine and it was starting to get uncomfortable avoiding questions from the nurses and doctors about her living arrangements. A few of her Dad's friends and workers had popped in and offered to bring her food and company.

Taylor smiled softy and nodded at the idea, but not agreeing.

Her stare made the softer ones flinch and that had upset her the first time. Now they had grown accustom to it or better at hiding their feelings.

Now her father moaned and he began to stir.

This was it! He was waking up! He… he would be okay now, it wasn’t permanent. She had saved him!

"Hey, Dad, it's okay, you're okay." Taylor reassured him as her dad’s eyes finally opened.

Danny stared around, eyes darting about the place eyes stared confused, looking at her then the room and back again. Emotions passed across his face too quickly for Taylor to read, but he sat up a little as Taylor reached out, pressing the button to call for a nurse.

Smiling down at her dad, Taylor got up and went to the door to wait. She poked her head out, looking and started as the nurse almost walked into her, saved by her messy dark brown hair shocking the nurse, expecting her to still be sitting her chair, waiting.

Pulling her head back Taylor returned to her chair and held her father's hand whilst the nurse bustled about checking readings and unplugging things. Taylor smiled as Danny began to sluggishly move his hands and feet, stretching his bed ridden body.

Danny tried to say something then, but his throat was incredibly dry and all that came out were gasps.

Taylor quickly fetched him water and, put the straw to his lips like he had done for her just a few short months ago. She smiled as her father drank with the same urgency Taylor remembered from her own stay and time unconscious.

When he finished the cup, Taylor carefully returned it to the bedside table. Turning back she gave her Danny’s hand a squeeze. Danny smiled at that and fixed his gaze on Taylor.

"How long have I been here?" He asked, his tone dazed. Taylor smiled and felt relief flood her.

"Five days, you were hurt pretty badly. I was worried that you... that you wouldn't come back." Taylor said, her voice tight. Danny closed his eyes and Taylor felt panic grab her, but he quickly opened them again.

"I don't remember what happened, but its okay now, see? I'm still in one piece." He joked, wiggling some the fingers of his other hadn whilst he gave Taylor her own squeeze. Taylor felt her face become painful at the amount she was smiling, the sheer joy of her father waking up overwhelming.

"Maybe, your brain might of leaked a little, so we probably won't notice any difference." Taylor joked, making the nurse reading her Dad's vitals smile, Danny look shocked.

"Such cheek! You always knew how to wound me where it hurts Annette." He said as he got comfortable on his pillow, not seeing Taylor's face freeze.

Annette? Her mother, Annette? The damage was worse than she thought if he was mixing names up.

"It's Taylor, Dad, maybe you hit your head harder than the doctors thought." Taylor said as she let the nurse check blood pressure and heart rate.

"Hilarious joke to pull on an injured man, Anne, I'm busted up, not crazy. Where is Taylor? Did you leave her with a friend?" Danny said as he looked around the room. His eyes sweeping right over Taylor.

Taylor stood, her breathing coming quickly, almost panicked.

"Dad. Dad, I'm right here. It’s me, Taylor." She said, leaning closer, hoping he was having a moment of madness or that maybe he just couldn’t see properly.

Danny looked at her bewildered and then angry.

"This isn't funny Annette, what's going on? Why am I here? Where's Taylor?" He demanded and began thrashing against the hospital equipment, the nurse pushed a button and tried to calm him. Taylor stepped back.

Her chest hammered and everything was suddenly so noisy as more staff rushed into to help and her father was yelling at her and it was all so wrong and…

Taylor bolted.

She ran, she ran down the hall as fast as she could, still hearing her father.

"Annette, please don't leave me! Don't leave me alone here! Annette, please I need you!" His voice followed her down the stairs, haunting her, screaming inside her head even when she finally stopped running.

Taylor sat down on a bench and looked around.

She didn't know where she was, she didn't know where she was at all.

And she didn’t care because her dad thought she was her mom and… And it was all wrong. She hadn’t saved him, she couldn’t heal him. It… it was all her fault and there was nothing she could do!

Taylor felt her eyes water, but only her right eye shed any tears. The left one was gone forever just like…

She swallowed, feeling like she was choking on razor blades. Her Dad thought she was her mother. Taylor had spent the last five days waiting on him, begging, praying, cursing and healing him every second she could.

Then he woke up and only saw her mother? Her mother who was gone forever just like her eye and now her dad too?!

There was laugh that bubbled up out of her throat. She laughed and it sounded like a sob on repeat and it hurt and Taylor didn’t know what to do!

She want to scream, but she didn't know what words to scream.

She wanted to hit something, but mindless rage wouldn’t help.

She wanted to cry, but it wouldn’t solve anything, it never did.

Taylor wanted to fix this. She wanted to do something, anything. She needed to make this right somehow! There was a word, a name that sprang to mind.

Bakuda.

At once her entire body reacted like it had been shot.

Bakuda had done this, caused her misery and pain. It was Bakuda who had hurt her father, who had caused his pain and confusion.

Taylor grasped at the reasoning and used it to pull herself together.

Taylor didn't know how it would help, or what it would accomplish… But she knew who and she knew why.

Taylor was going to kill Bakuda!

"Taylor? Where’ve you been? I was waiting for you at the hospital, but you never showed and then a nurse told me your Dad woke up but you ran away." Sabah rapidly said as she open her door. Her face pinched with stress, her normally immaculate clothes rumpled.

Taylor nodded, but didn't say anything. Stepping inside, Taylor began to rummage in the living area looking under the couch and in drawers.

"Taylor? What's wrong?" Sabah asked, more quietly whilst Mog and Boco watched silently, uncertain as to what was going on.

Taylor turned to look at Sabah with her working eye.

"I need my costume, I have to get my costume." Taylor said, her voice distant and flat. Sabah took a step back at this, unsettled by dead sound of her friend’s voice.

"But you Dad, don't you want to see…" Sabah tried to say soothingly, but Taylor shook her head violently.

"No! He isn't... He isn't right. It’s all gone wrong!" Taylor said, her voice rising, wavering with fear. Her hands began to yank at handles and doors, too impatient to be polite. Sabah grabbed her arm.

"Taylor, calm down, what's wrong with your Dad? Why do you need your costume?" Sabah asked more forcefully, projecting authority into her voice.

Taylor kept shaking her head, struggling in Sabah’s grip.

“He woke up… He woke up, and all he saw was Mom, he has brain damage and now he can't see me. I couldn't sit there and listen, I won't sit there and listen. I need to be out there. I need to do something, anything to fix this." Taylor said, her voice rapidly changing from dead to desperate. Sabah paused, her face horrified and her surprise let Taylor shake free of her grip.

"Fix what? Your Dad? Taylor you can't time travel! The best thing here is to be there for him." Sabah said as she blocked off her bedroom whilst Taylor kept rummaging.

Shifting a pile of cloth Taylor saw Sabah defending the door to her room and that let Taylor realize were her costume was. She stalked up to the older girl, glaring at her.

"No, I can't be there right now, it's too hard, I… I can go out and get the person who made the bombs or used them! Bring them to justice anyway I can." Taylor said, her face shiny with sweat, and Sabah saw droplets dripping down her friends face.

Sabah worry look transformed into horror as the state of her friend and her intentions dawned on her.

"Taylor, you... You want to kill her? You want to kill Bakuda?" The other girl’s voice was quiet when she said this.

Taylor didn't move.

"I don't… I don’t want to... But I… I… I need… I need to do something, I have to fix things, I have to make it right, I have to do this." Taylor whispered. Sweat was streaming down her too pale face and she was trembling all over as she tried to reach for the bedroom door but Sabah remained firm.

"I didn't make that costume for a murderer. I made it for my friend who wanted to be a hero, who valued peace and doing the right thing, who didn’t want to fight but did so to protect me. Right now though? Right now I can't see my friend." Sabah said with heat as she slowly walked forward, forcing Taylor to step back with her.

"I don't want to-" Taylor began and stopped, whimpering as Sabah snarled at her. Taylor had never seen the other girl so furious.

"But you will if it comes to it? Are you crazy?! Killing is never okay when there are other options! I don't know what's going on in your head, but enough is enough, Taylor. Give me my friend back."

Sabah grabbed Taylor then pulled the her forward into a hug suddenly. Taylor gasped at the contact, the warmth and the comfort almost overwhelming.

"This isn't you Taylor, you’re not a killer. You don’t need to blame yourself, you don’t need to make anything right. Why on earth are you doing this to yourself Taylor?" Sabah said, tears running down her cheeks as she looked up into Taylor's sweating, shivering face.

Taylor was too stunned at the sudden words to reply, her mouth just opening and closing like a fish.

"Taylor, listen to me, you are not to blame. Nothing you could have done would have stopped those bombs. Even if by some miracle you managed to stop the first one, the other two would have went off anyway. No matter how much you want to you can’t save everyone Taylor! You’re a victim too, Taylor, just like your Dad, you are not the guilty party here." Sabah sobbed as she spoke, still looking straight into Taylor’s wild eyes.

Taylor began to shake her head again, denial on her face.

"I didn't do enough, my dad... my dad…" Taylor began to hyperventilate, her eyes roving darting everywhere while she shook her head in panic. Sabah pulled them both down to the floor and tugged Taylor's head into her shoulder, stroking her friend’s long hair. The gesture, the kindness, the comfort… It was all too much and Taylor crashed over the edge as she began to cry as well, great wracking sobs that shook her slender frame.

"You saved your father, if you hadn't shielded him, Taylor, he would have been incinerated like everyone else who was so close. You healed him and stopped him from dying when you’d never used magic before. You walked out the fire with him, even as you burned. You saved him. You were, and still are, a hero. You even went and idiotically forgot to heal your own eye ‘cause you wasted all you energy on your father. If you were one of the Wards you’d be awarded a medal of heroism by Legend himself. Yet, here you are, blaming yourself for not doing more, for not saving everyone. You are a hero and don’t you dare tell yourself otherwise!" Sabah's voice was watery, but chiding. Taylor would swear she could hear the love in her friends voice, it was something she’d never thought she hear again after Emma from anyone but her father.

The realization just Taylor's cry harder, great heaving sobs the shook her while she clung to Sabah like a lifeline, fluttering like a leaf.

"You're my hero, and your Dad's hero. Taylor, you're going to be okay. We’ll get through this together." Sabah said as the older girl cradled Taylor, kissing the top of her head as her own tears trailed down her cheeks and Taylor wept for the first time in five days.

"...the sun set over the hill as he laid down and finally rested, his journey over." Taylor read softly. The hospital room seemed less lifeless, more homely now. Odd gifts and personal effects cluttering the room added character to the otherwise bare room.

Taylor sat in a chair next to her father, her hair tied up in a high ponytail, how her mother use to wear it. Danny rested on the bed, his eyes half closed and a smile on his face.

"You always liked happy endings, didn't you Anne?" He mumbled sleepily.

Taylor smiled softly in response.

"Who doesn't like happy endings?" She said as she closed the book, carefully sliding her mother’s wedding ring back up her thin finger, Danny had noticed she wasn't wearing a ring and that had been a bad day. So she'd taken to wearing it, even if it was too large for her fingers. It was a nice memento and kept her father happy.

Taylor was learning how to have good days and bad days. The damage to her father’s memories showed that they weren't lost, just extremely out of order, jumbled and his perception altered to match what he needed to see to make his memories fit, rather than what was really there.

Saying the wrong things or using the wrong time frame upset Danny greatly and it was always was painful to watch, seeing him so lost and confused. Taylor couldn't stand it, it hurt too much. So… So she pretended and hoped it would be a good day.

And today was a good day.

"I have to go now, will you be okay? Can I get you anything before I go?" Taylor asked as she stood, Danny shook his head sleepily.

"I'm fine, but how is Taylor? How's my baby? I swore I saw her yesterday, but I'm not sure."

Taylor felt a small smile appear on her face. Every time without fail, he’d ask about her. His baby girl who he loved and missed so much.

"Taylor is good, she's happy. She wants you to know that she loves you more than anything and will see you soon." Taylor said with a hitch in her voice, Danny nodded as his eyes drifted closed and he fell asleep.

Leaning over Taylor gently placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I love you, Dad."

Straitening up Taylor quietly got out of her chair and left. Turning back, she gently closed the door so as not to risk waking him. Turning again Taylor spotted Sabah waiting in one of the chairs down the hall, a bag of cookies in her lap.

Taylor felt a smile tug her lips as her friend beamed at her with that amazing smile of hers.

Today really was a good day.

Chapter Text

The source still eludes me. I have searched far for any signs, my infernal prison is not limited by distance, but deprivation.

Why did it effect me so? My current state has allowed me to sense things that I would have never felt before the traitor cast us out.

But the longer I search, the more I lose. Loss Is natural, but this? This is all I have left now.

The world and its people have the answer. Kingdom Hearts is revealing itself once more, it's patterns subtle but unmistakable.

If my theory is correct, the appropriate vessel shall appear soon, the time rapidly approaching.

But I cannot make haste, I cannot move accordingly, the world still unreachable.

This barrier, this shield, this prison is a marvel of true artisan.

But all gates have a key, all keys have masters.

I have located one of them, but where is the other?

I must wait longer still. But I feel the stars quiver in the dark.

The cycle is moving once more.

Chapter Text

 Paige Mcabee was sure that life was unfair. This was not a new revelation to the young woman, every choice in the last few years seem to be either very good or very bad, but mostly bad in her experience.

There was very few incidents that fell in-between, the vial was one. The ones who had offered her this temptation had warned her that results were more of a prediction based on previous results than any fact. Cauldr-

No, Paige had kept herself from speaking, talking or even thinking about them for far too long. It was one of many prices that she had paid that day.

Paige wanted to be famous. It was a simple idea as it was vague in her mind. Paige could play instruments, but not to a great deal, she could dance, but it was mediocre at best. No, Paige's best skill had always been singing, it was her pride and one skill that made her stand out.

But it wasn't enough.

There was a thousand Paiges in her city alone. Some better, some worse, all of them made her blend right in, unnoticed in the sea of talent. It was hard to keep going after you were missed again and again.

So Paige did the only thing she could think of.

She advertise on the internet on how to acquire powers.

It was met with mock, rage, questions, false leads, vague answers and warnings.

There was a whole site dedicated to learning about Capes and listing events when people became capes, oddly enough, not many people recreated them.

After a long time of relentless searching she was emailed, it was short and sweet.

"Ms.Mcabee, please come to location listed below and all your questions will be answered."

The reason this stuck out was the simple fact Paige was being careful about her investigation at the time, she never used her home internet or her name, or even her real email.

The events that followed...

It left Paige in a dangerous state.

Thankfully she could afford her debt for the vial. Money was easy to earn if you were already well off.

The ability to sing, to reach into people and make them feel things they've never felt before was intoxicating. The first few months, Paige couldn't talk without trouble. The words came out in beautiful undertones that had people around her do odd things.

Asking for a cup of coffee in a public dinner had resulted in 48 cups of black coffee being put on Paige's table by every patron in the building.

It took a long time before she could efficiently turn the effect off. It was a really practised method of think, think, think and...speak to herself mostly. If she could think as if she was only talking to herself then Paige could communicate just fine.

Then, Paige, boring uninspiring Paige, had become Bad Canary, the countries growing star, like ash erupting into a phoenix. Life was finally hers, and the world was her stage.

Then... she had nothing, except her powers, a court hearing and scarred ex.

Life was unfair, for what Paige worked for and gave so much for was ruined by her golden goose.

Paige could sing about life being unfair.

Shame there was a metal gag in her mouth.

The truck around her rumbled to a stop outside a white building. Red lights blinked on as her guards looked at her through a camera to ensure her bondage was still secure in a sound proof box then the doors were flung open and official looking people with solid sound proof ear muffs were pointing guns at her, warning her.

"Enough of that. Lower your weapons before I have you all slapped with a misuse of power on an unarmed civilian!" A woman's voice snapped at them. No one heard and then suddenly a blonde woman was standing between her and the guns.

The guards all immediately lowered their guns in a practised motion. Whatever it was due to safety or the identify of the woman Paige didn't know. Paige was never that aware of major capes or authority figures outside the triumvirate, let alone in a different city.

This woman turned and Paige's first thought was that the women made her feel like she had her shirt untucked. There was a no nonsense air about her like a suit

"You are Paige Mcabee, correct? I am your new lawyer, Carol Dallon, welcome to Brockton Bay, where I will work hard to ensure you are finally given a fair trial, now I'm going to get us inside and get that death trap off your face, and those restraints are highly unnecessary as well, I'll make note of that, give me an a hour and I will have you settled with something to eat as we talk, do you mind chinese, nod or shake." Carol Dallon said all at once. Paige felt stunned.

Numbly nodding, she tilted her head in a question manner, her fingers making the universal sign on money. Carol nodded as if she spoke English.

"The chinese is being billed to the hero, Dragon, for that is who is paying my fees for this job. Dragon made some valid points when we talked and well, here I am." Carol said as she waved a hand at the confused guards and gawkers.

Life was unfair, but maybe Paige could give it another try. For one more day.

Only if because Paige was pretty sure she be dragged in by her hair if she tried to refuse the scary woman who ordered armed men to open her restraints with authority and an amazing bitch face.

Chapter Text

 The man's eyebrows arched over the rims of his sunglasses as he stared across the table, a slight frown gracing his barely intimidating features, "Do you accept?"

Buzz cut hair, growl in his voice, huge arms and skinny legs, all signs of being the smallest guy in class in more ways than one.

Seen one of these guys, seen them fucking all.

Finger tracing the empty wine glass rim. A slow smile.

Freaking out these big boys was always... fun.

"I do," a faint tinkling of bells shimmered lightly as I unfolded my hands.

"The money is generous and the job looks fucking interesting. Can't say I've ever done something quite like this. So...spit and shake?"

There was a slight tensing of the man's face, a visible grimace that brought a victorious smirk to my face . Reaching for the silver briefcase under the table, his eyes never once leaving me, he placed it gently before him and frowned, "One hundred thousand...in non sequential bills. Another fifty upon completing job."

Money was nice, but as the case was slide across the table, a single photo was placed on top, it was of a young girl in white with a giant key over her shoulder, standing on top of a building.

But some things are just better.

An almost uncontrollable urge to lick ones lips.

"Well, how could I refuse?"

"Like it was a choice, the boss wants this done." the man said stiffly.

How...cute.

"If you knew who the boss was, you be a dead man. Simple as fuck."

He was turning red. This was too easy.

"Is that a threat?" he asked, a hand towards his jacket.

Gun. Easy enough.

"No, the boss just hates idiots and you are, most definitely, an idiot. Toodles!"

The hired mouth piece for the boss was left fuming. If he shot at me, then I was right about his stupidity and in the right to kill him.

No shot came. Sad times.

Now...

Keynote, Keynote, where are you?

Chapter Text

4 hours before the Bakuda Bombings

Dennis wasn't sure he was ever going to get to do anything exciting this week.

It was a cosmic tragedy really. He, Clockblocker, the most handsome, devilishly stylish and funny of the Brockton Bay Wards, had missed the excitement. Twice!

It was beginning to look like Piggot had finally broken out her witch wand and cursed him. A most forbidding and sinister of curses. Anti-fun.

Dennis didn't mind the woman in charge. Much. Because whilst a smile wouldn’t kill her, he’d seen her smile before, she only ever smiled when someone else was having a bad day. Dennis was certain Piggot laughing was one of the signs of the apocalypse. She was as sad a sad sack as a sad sack could be. In fact, he was certain that having fun just might cause her to burst into flames!

Dennis didn't want that, so he’d better to keep pissing her off to ensure she’d live to see another day.

He was a hero after all. Which was why, dragging his thoughts back into order, these missed parties were becoming insulting.

"So, let me get this straight. In the week I was given leave to spend time with my dad, Shadow Stalker got her ass so badly burned that half the people here could see it from the Protectorate building and then a new cape, a girl even, do you know how rare those are? Do you! A girl shows up and is kicking ass with a key? Then Miss Militia marched Sophia up to the gym an hour ago and you haven't seen her since?" Dennis said, hands flailing and gesticulating wildly whilst he he paced back and forth, trying bleed his energy off.

Carlos, Aegis out of costume like he was now with his helmet left on the table in front of him, nodded.

"The doors have been locked from the inside and nobody is going to knock. I’ve never seen Miss Militia look so..." He trailed off looking for the right word when Missy, Vista when in costume, piped up from the kitchen area.

"Pissed?" She said with grin visible as she looked over her shoulder.

Dennis had to smile at that. Missy was so serious most of the time that when she finally acted her age or was happy… It was adorable. It was even more funny because of how badly the two girls on their team got on. Missy and Sophia were less dog versus cat and more alien versus predator.

Sophia was the predator, watching until she saw weakness and striking. Missy was the alien, looking small until she latched on to your face with her fists and it only got worse from there.

Dennis shuddered as he remembered his last spar against his diminutive team mate. He didn’t much see the need for learning how to fight, one touch was all he needed. Miss Militia insisted though and Missy had been learning for a long time. She had no definite style as far as Dennis knew, but enough knowledge to make things extremely unpleasant.

Dennis swore he could still feel the bruises on his butt. So, in return, he needled her about her height so she learnt not to be offended.

The tiny jokes would stop upsetting her.

Eventually.

"I was going to say determined, but that works too." Carlos said dryly, his tone less formal outside the suit. He actually used contractions now!

Missy shrugged as she strolled over.

"I call it like I see it. She was pissed and Sophia looked... defiant, but something else as well. Shame Dean isn't here, could of used a glimpse on what Sophia was feeling." Missy said with a tone of curiosity.

Dennis nodded, he’d have liked to know as well if he was being honest.

Sophia was hard to read at the best of time. Like a brick wall that punched you, you could tell what it was… but why was often hard to come by.

"Then you two got to meet the cape girl? The one kicking up PHO and making debates as Parian’s new badass 'security' cape?" Dennis asked, air quoting with excitement.

Missy looked even happier at this. God damn that girl could smile, if Dennis didn’t know better he'd swear she could use her power on herself her grin was so wide. Hmm, maybe he should start calling her Cheshire? Or sell her to Nickelodeon.

"You’d like her Dennis, very nervous, but super nice. Me and Carlos..."

"Carlos and I." The ward leader murmured. Both Dennis and Missy ignored him with the ease of much practice.

“…saw her on her first day with her new costume and she was making waves. She really does use a giant key to fight, looks weird, but in a good way. I got the super dorky, but awesome vibe from her, shame she wasn't interesting in joining, it be nice to have someone else to talk to when you're away and Dean is off gallivanting with Glory Girl, Chris is in one of his tinker fugues right now and is just boring." Missy said as she flopped back into the couch.

"I feel very appreciated." Carlos said with a roll of his eyes. Missy grinned and threw a pillow at the boy who could take steel pipes to the head.

"And don't you forget it." Missy teased. Dennis smirked as he froze the pillow on its way back to the young girls face.

Dennis felt bad for Missy, not because Carlos was now advancing on her with fingers ready to induce hysterical giggles from the girl, but because deep down he was sure that Missy resented Carlos. Just a little bit.

Missy had been here the longest, most of her team grew up, like Battery who’d been the Wards leader when Missy joined. Others had been lost over the years to transfer and ‘retirement’. Still, Missy had been serving the longest of any of the current team though by at least two years and being passed over for leadership again… Yeah, that had to suck. They both understood why, leadership was based on age not experience, but being ordered around by someone you helped train? Someone you considered a newbie?

That had to suck bad.

If it was Dennis in her place, he wasn't sure he could be around Carlos like Missy could. He’d have been bitching to high heaven and pushing his normal levels of bad humor and snark past what he knew was acceptable. He have tried to get a rise whenever he could. He wouldn’t be able to just roll with it like her, just take the hits and insults, grit her teeth and power through.

Girl was a badass. Shame not many people knew it.

Missy, the girl who could bend space and your spine, but was wrote of because she hadn’t started puberty yet and still had pigtails.

"So what was her name, Key-something?" He asked, flopping down next to missy on the couch. Grinning as he saw Carlos’ predicament he swiped some of Missy's chips, grinning at her outraged expression.

Giving up, Carlos stopped floating over the kitchen table which Missy has stretched to the size of a swimming pool. Cupping his hands around his mouth so they could hear him Carlos shouted at the grinning pair.

"I think you mean Keynote. Also, she requested that we call her Port-"

Suddenly alarms went off and the light above the door went off, first red and then green.

A ward or Protectorate with no guests, safe to leave costumes off.

Sophia walked in.

If space was an elastic band then it would of snapped loudly as Missy lost focus.

Dennis couldn't blame her.

"Holy shit, what happened?" Dennis said as he slowly approached the girl.

The Wards had learnt that no one rushes at Sophia, not without good reason. Well, unless you were a masochist and enjoyed people trying to hurt you.

But... as Dennis looked her up and down, he had to get closer. He may not like her but Sophia was his team mate and fellow Ward and there were just some things you had to do.

Like help the injured.

Sophia was a mess. She had a black eye shining from amidst her own dark skin, the angry purple a poor contrast. There was a smear of blood under her nose, fresh blood oozing sluggishly from her nostrils. A fat lip that was quickly swelling and bruise so big on her cheek that it was already going funny colors and pressing on her non-black eye.

Sophia looked like she has went one to one with Lung on a bad day. Well, without the burns anyway.

Sophia walked, limped really, past Dennis with confidence, shrugging of his hand as he reached for her. Reaching the couch she took his vacated seat, sinking into the cushions wil a welcoming sigh. Looking at Sophia as Missy turned large shocked eyes on her Dennis could see a weird device around her neck. Some kind of collar?

Closing her eyes Sophia spoke with the same mixture of derision and apathy as always.

"A new thing I'm doing with Militia. Did you ever know she could dislocate an arm and reset it in the same move set?" She said, her right arm shaking a little at this.

Dennis stopped in his approach to the couch, shocked by her words.

"Miss Militia did this? You look like you asked Assault to use you as his punching bag." Dennis pointed out in case she hadn't noticed she looked like a tenderized steak.

"She wasn't going to, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut> I just kept getting angry she was flipping me onto my ass, and every time I talked back, she upped the stakes. It was... somethin’." Sophia said with unusual humor sounding tired. Her whole body sagged.

"Sophia, do you need medical attention?" Carlos asked with intensity, his eyes narrowed and brow creased with worry.

Sophia shook her head, chuckling even.

"Nah full medical check after, the bruises and the lip are going to be legendary, but besides that I'm just sore. Miss Milita was just going to show me a few moves and spar with me, but you know me, I just had to push her." Sophia mumbled, more to herself than the rest of them.

Dennis winced as he saw the bruise under new light.

"Is this your punishment? How can Miss M. be allowed to do this, even if you seem strangely calm about it?" Dennis asked, surprised at how well the injured girl was cooperating. She had to be completely done in to be this chatty. Normally the best he could ever get was a ‘fuck off’ or ‘run faster’… This Sophia was, dare he say, kind of fun?

"Mom signed some paper work and Miss Militia strongly advised her to seek some help for her problems, then I signed some things and boom, Militia was dragging me in to kick my ass. I've never been this tired and I've helped against Squealer’s trucks..."

Wow, Dennis grimaced at the odd popping noise as Sophia cracked her knuckles, gingerly he pointed her neck.

"And that? Is that a tracker?" He asked, sitting on the table opposite her.

"What? Oh this? Nah, I got a tracker on my foot, this thing stops me from using my powers, Armsmaster made it. I think, Miss Miltia drilled the technical crap into my head. If I go shadow, there's no light hitting my body or something. So if this neck thing sense zero light it shocks me. Knocks me back into the real world, I have a three second count down in case I forget and then I get fried, I fucking hate it." Sophia half mumbled half growled as she slide sideways down the couch and slowly curled up, her eyes fluttering shut.

Carlos came closer and crouched.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked gently. Sophia didn’t bother to open her eyes as she replied.

"I've never been better, can't wait to... finally, hit her, it's going to be... good." Sophia trailed off as her breathing slowed.

"That's... Wow. Just wow." Missy said quietly as they all looked down on the sleeping girl. Carlos gently pulled a blanket out from under the couch and draped it over the Sophia. Normally they were for keeping warm whilst watching TV after patrol or on the weekend, when you wanted to hang out and not worry about being heroes. Dennis thought this was a better use.

"Come on, let her sleep. We can talk as we go find Miss Miltia and find out what's happening for her. This is a bit extreme, even if Sophia messed up." Carlos said firmly, getting up walking to the door.

Missy and Dennis followed.

Looking back at the girl, Dennis thought to himself that in all the time he had known her, Sophia had never looked as peaceful as she did now. Bruised, bloodied and exhausted, she looked content.


Carlos was right, this was fucked up, but maybe not the way he thought.

Sophia was powerless and she wasn't killing anyone.

He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he masked up along with Vista and Aegis before the doors opened. Miss Miltia’s boot camp from hell may have been brutal… but had its perks.

Chapter Text

"We'll be home about 7, so don't get into trouble, and leave my microwave alone!" Sabah called as she and Taylor walked outside, disappearing into the sunlight streaming down the front steps.

Mog softly waved, bobbing gently in the air. Seriously, he was 800, and not a day older, Sabah mothered him worse than his own mother.

Which was an impressive statement in its own right.

"Another day trapped inside, kupo." Mog said with a sigh as he floated back into the studio. Boco warbled sadly.

Mog translated it as:

'I'm getting rather bored, good chap, what say we tally on and raise a kerfuffle?'

"Don't temp me, kupo, but I really don't want to upset Sabah, my pom still shivers when I nearly broke her 'wi-fi.' Kupo, can you imagine what she do if she caught us outside?" Mog said with a hint of amusement. It was funny really. He and Boco were envoys of the great star ocean and that of between, travellers from distant worlds, adventures come Twilight or Darkness… and Sabah had them whipped.

To be fair, Summoners always came in two flavors.

Meek and mild, the kind who asked for helped. Or feisty with a temper, who called you fight at their side.

Well... there was the third kind. He didn’t like to talk about those.

With a yawn, Mog floated over to the broken machines and began to tug at wires with pliers. Lack of moveable fingers only made it more challenging for the Moogle.

An hour later, Mog pulled himself out a tangle of wires and metal. The machine groaned spluttered to life, lights blinking, power surging!

And then died.

An odd feeling bobbed around in his head, ignoring it for his work, he leaned in to take a closer look.

Since Sabah had forbidden him to touch her more valuable machines, Mog was stuck with unsuitable pieces of junk that really didn't want to work. Mog had a talent though, one for making things work regardless.

"Kweh?" Boco asked, which Mog automatically translated.

'Mog, old chum, do you feel that? I swear I know this feeling.'

Putting down the tool, Mog stared upwards. Boco wasn't the greatest at magic or mental challenges. Mog wasn't amazing either, but he was a Moogle.

The feeling was... familiar. It had been a long time since Mog had felt this.

The ping of a message.

Mog and Boco weren't normal Moogle and Chocobo, by any means, but they weren’t alone in their uniqueness. But this form of contact was only used when other means were limited or impossible.

Mog understood this quite easily, this world was convoluted beyond believe. The barriers of the world behaved strangely. If not for the appearance of a keyblade, which could open all locks, even this barrier, he doubted they would have arrived here. So such a message wasn’t unexpected… Yet the feeling was.

The sender felt royal. A higher Esper, one of the highest.

Mog guessed no one else would be strong enough to pierce the veil. So Mog listened, feeling the message for it wasn't in words, but intent.

Mog and Boco okay? Status report. Unimportant, no hurry. Unless aid needed. Will keep contact open on their end for a short while.

Extremely taxing.

Mog floated gently as he focused his intent through the touching of their spirits.

Safe, welcome, with new friends, curious, dangerous world, Keyblade, kupo.

Mog sent all this along with his own flavor of thoughts.

There was a paused and...

Keyblade, danger, destroy?

Mog and Boco looked at each other.

With a shake, Boco looked down. Mog nodded and focused.

No, Keyblade, friend, light, strong heart.

With a flutter of nervousness Mog waited. If the order came through and it was bad, Mog didn't want to listen, he could blame interference, but deep down Mog knew, as they all did, what must be done if such a power began to fall.

The stars were only just healing. So many Keyblades were around right now and everyone was busy keeping things from falling apart. It was why he’d come here after all. Regardless, the princesses were only just restored, they wouldn't be ready if a wielder fell to darkness. Another Keyblade War would doom them all. Worse though would be if one of the Princesses were to die...

Mog felt the words come through.

Watch, responsible, be careful, thank you, good luck.

Mog sighed and sat on the desk, feeling relieved.

The touch of magic fled from his mind and once more it was just Boco and him alone in the studio.

"Wark..."

'That was most nerve wracking, I feel the need to point out you did not mention the lass's recent problem and how she is struggling to find the light...'

Mog floated to a window and nodded.

"Kupo, I couldn't... Taylor and everything around here would be wiped out, kupo. I've never been comfortable with death, no matter how many times I meet her."

Mog held his Pom closer in gesture of comfort.

"And... she is our friend, kupo. We have to believe in Taylor, kupo, believe that she is good. Just think how many people were written off by the Espers before they saved a world or two, kupo. We will wait and see. The others are always so impatient, kupo, and unyielding in their judgement. If it is just us, we can make sure Taylor is given a fair chance, kupo." Mog said with growing confidence. Boco didn't say anything but Mog knew he liked Taylor a lot. She had kind heart, even if it was burt and marred by darkness… Mog could feel the light that only needed a chance to shine.

More, this world was too strange just to blow it up. The lack of darkness or light was interesting as it was worrisome. Worlds that fell in-between were very rare and always important. Worlds of Dawn and Dusk were always the most interesting… If always the most dangerous too.

The Heartless had been here, the world was littered in their crystallized remains. The gems of synthesis glowed like nothing else, but you had to truly defeat a Heartless to get them, which only a select few could do. Keyblade weilders, in fact, were extremely efficient at this, like no other as they could truly slay heartless.

But whole streets filled with gems, all left untouched, disturbed Mog more than anything. What had destroyed them? There was no Keyblade Master here, else they would surely have contacted Taylor by now.

That just left more questions than it answered though.

What power existed that could annihilate the heartless so easily? Was it linked to the barrier? The cause of the absence of Light and Darkness in a world that should be awash with both? Was it the source of the strange, magicless powers that ruled this world?

This world was an anomaly and Mog felt it held more secrets than he could guess.

With a distracted mind, Mog floated over to the microwave and began to strip it, his mind so deep in thought he completely ignored the note above him.

“Do not fix or tamper with, Mog. Sabah”

Chapter Text

"Are you sure that was wise?" The knight said. His hand grasping a sword for reassurance. He continued on.

"If this Keyblader falls, then a Keyblade War is assured." He argued.

The other one... A light, a being of metal and feathers, was silent for a few second. Others in the temporal space shuffled. His words were always wise, but not always agreeable.

"Yes, I have faith in Mog and Boco, this Keyblader will have her chance, you've grown scared of the mere idea of them now that you've let fear drive you instead of logic. Mog thinks I cannot see, but I have seen this Keyblader, this girl, she is drenched into darkness, but at the same time clinging to the light."

More shuffling, another approached, wings out to their full span.

"Light can be worse than darkness at times, it blinds one to their own faults or mistakes. If she needs to survive on such a world, she will need balance or none." The creature said, scales gleaming. The white light nodded.

"That world has escaped our noticed, the lack of magics or science magic to blame, but the Keyblade has pierced the veil and now we gain a foothold."

A woman stood next to the knight, spoke in a sharp voice.

"What if she does fall? Darkness has been shown to win more often than not."

Everyone looked to the light.

"Then I will destroy them. We will destroy them. But not a moment sooner and I think I know how to help."

A shrill cry called out as another being flew closer.

"Be careful, the more we open ourselves up to this world, the more it can effect us." It warned. The knight nodded in agreement and the light pondered this.

"If we do nothing we lose a Keyblader to darkness or they survive. I, for one, am tired of this monopoly of the them to the light or darkness. I offer instead, to you all, to come together for a vote, I will take Mog and Boco's vote since they want the Keyblader to live."

The woman, interest peaked, walked forward.

"What does this vote entail?"

"We shall vote, for the first time since the in between was formed, to be summon again, and for this one girl alone, we shall offer a deeper service. We will cause the first Keyblader to draw from, not light or dark, but the force that born from their battle, the chaos."

Silence reigned supreme.

Then he spoke.

"I don't care about this stuff, at all, but I don't have a Keyblade for my collection..."

"If we allow ourselves to be a source of power then won't the door to chaos be accessible?" The knight asked.

"It will be. Such a thing has never happened before. I cannot say what will happen with certainty. But regardless we will now vote."

Alexander said, his white wings exploding outwards, white feathers raining down on them, some of the creatures grabbed the feathers straight away, while others hesitated.

The stars quivered.

The darkness stilled.

Chaos laughed.

Chapter Text

The Moogle had Taylor's full attention.

"Magic is a force of will and energy, unlike science which is force and energy.” Mog said, settling back into his comfy arm chair.

“The difference is that the will always guarantees the same effect for the same amount of input, kupo, so anyone can achieve the same result, spell, for the same price, without having to calculate amounts or such. . It is the way a spell is, its foundation, its purpose. Fire will always burn, lightning will always strike, and cure will always heal, kupo. Will power is different from will itself though. It is a measure of your determination, kupo, your ability to assert your will. Great will power and can allow one person to cast the strongest spells with ease, while someone with little will power can barely get a spark between their fingers, kupo. Will power is an ever changing factor, it cannot be measured by machines, it cannot be touched by weapons, and it cannot be bought or sold. But it's also a fragile thing, kupo, someone could have enough will power to taken on the whole world, then it's broken and they can't even make a single spark."

Taylor frowned, shifting to get more comfortable on the couch, her face intent on the small Moogle.

Taylor had come home to the hospital to find Mog in a strange mood. He seemed distracted and worried, but didn't answer to her prodding. Instead he had asked to see her magic.

Taylor hadn't been shy about it, Mog had been the one to tell her she even had magic… It was the whole reason she had friends now really, as it had allowed Mog to find her and in turn, let Taylor meet Sabah. So with a flash of light, Taylor summoned Melody of the Lost and was ready, so she cast her first learned spell.

“Cure.” Taylor had whispered.

Mog had examined the shimmer green sparkles and nodded.

"Cure, the most basic of spells outside the elemental table, kupo. I think I might be able to help you find a, well, a cure for your father." He had said, so casually.

Which lead to her current lecture on magic. Dishes seemed very unimportant now.

"So magic is better than science?" Taylor asked dubiously, twisting her hair as she pondered.

Mog shook his head.

"No, it's important to know that while each has advantages at their peak, kupo, both are useful. Magic is set in its way, while science is ever expanding, exploring new paths. It's rare for new magic to evolve where I come from, there's a lot of ways to use one spell, kupo, but you can never make fire solid like ice. But for you, we shall only focus on magic." Mog explained and floated over to the coffee table.

"Why? Because I have the Keyblade?" Taylor asked, her interest piqued. Mog nodded, floating back and forward as he talked.

"Keyblade users are very interesting people, capable of great things, magic is one of them, kupo." Mog began in a formal tone. Taylor tried to hide her smile at the serious pompous tone. Then she digested his words.

"You've met other people with Keyblades personally? Really? What are they like?" Taylor asked with excitement. Mog faltered at the interruption, before stilling completely.

"Just the one, they were...unforgettable, but I think that's a trait you all share by nature, but it must have been... a while since last seen that weirdo, nice enough, but pig headed. We had a mutual business transaction, as in I got paid to get rid of my excess junk." Mog said with nostalgia. Whether he missed the memory of the person or the money, Taylor wasn’t quite sure.

"He? She? Old, young? Anything that isn't cryptic?" Taylor said with a frown. Mog's pom-pom drooped just a little.

"He... He was a friend and I never knew what happened to him, kupo. We kept in touch and then one day, he was just gone." Mog said his voice sad. Taylor felt guilt rush through her.

"Sorry Mog. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Taylor murmured quietly, the Moogle always seems so upbeat, it was hard to remember he had lived for a long time, he must of lived through so much and Taylor just carelessly asked without thinking.

"Kupo, it’s okay. People I know, especially Keybladers, have a habit of vanishing and turning up when they please. I'm sure he's out there somewhere, kupo, lost and being an idiot." Mog said fondly. Then he shook his head and straightened up.

"Back to magic, Kupo, Keybladers naturally learn magic through experience and exposure. Through combat Keybladers advance their skills and can unlock new spells. They can also learn, kupo, when exposed to new magic’s, either by enemies or with magical items. I haven't any on me though, but fire can be a simple spell to try. Kupo, it’s usually the first learnt." Mog explained, but then Sabah’s voice called form her seat at her desk, back turned to them, hands furiously drawing something flowing and elegant.

"Not in the house, you won't. I have way too many flammable things in here." She said with a rushed tone. A piece of paper floated gently on to the collage on the wall above Sabah, a few peel off and floated down to her waiting hand.

Looking over at her friend Taylor winced at her harried look, while dozens of needles, spools of thread, paper and cloth danced around her.

Sabah was busy, Taylor's life had crashed so suddenly into the older girl's that Sabah had been pushing long term projects to the side in order to help Taylor out. First to let her adjust to being a cape and then to her Dad's... condition. So to compensate for her building work load, Sabah had stayed up all night, sketching, calling, emailing, making a lot of needles fly about like tiny sharp flies.

Sabah could be the filing clerk from heaven is she ever decided she wanted a new career.

"I suppose, kupo, but fire is tradition. Only odd balls start with lightning or ice." Mog said with a whine. Taylor mentally rolled her eyes, Mog was also extremely petulant for an 800 year old being.

Sabah waved him off and a stack papers collided in mid-air from her distraction. A rain of sketches feel over Sabah, who's head twitched slightly. Taylor felt the room tremble as Sabah's telekinesis shook every object within a meter of her. Perhaps, Taylor underestimated how much Sabah was behind.

Taylor scooped Mog up and rushed to the bathroom.

"We'll leave you to your work, shout if you need us!" Taylor called with a nervous laugh, Sabah smacked her head loudly on her desk in response.

When the bathroom door was closed, Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. The tiled room was cooler than the living area, though thankfully no longer as bad as it had been as spring approached.

Taking seats Mog was promptly place in the sink as Taylor grabbed the toilet for her own. The girl grumbled as she nearly missed just barely sitting on the lid’s edge before she shuffled sideways. Her depth perception was shot and to add insult to injury was the eye patch. It made her feel like an idiot, which was only compounded by Sabah’s jokes.

However, the alternative was leaving it exposed and that made most people go green. While Sabah handled it better Taylor could tell it made the older girl uncomfortable and Taylor wanted Sabah to like being around her. She… she wanted Sabah’s to be able to look her in the eye..

So she wore an eye patch and that meant, in Sabah’s words, Taylor had become a pirate. In made her grumble and blush, feeling stupid and vulnerable. Crippled. Still, it made her friend smile so she would put up with the jokes… Even though Taylor would kill anyone else who dared to make that joke, quickly, cleanly and silently.

With this in mind, Taylor glared at Mog.

"Really? You just had to bring up fire in a house filled with cloth? Cloth which is flammable?" Taylor said flatly, giving Mog her best deadpan stare. Mog floated above the sink and turned on tap. Cold water rushed out as Mog inserted a plug with his paw.

"It helps her vent, kupo. Sabah is going to exploded or kill us at this rate. We need to distract her, kupo." Mog said cheerfully. He gently floated down and balanced on the bath rim. He pointed at the full sink.

"Now... I suppose we can do blizzard. It's relatively non-lethal if you use it without compressing the crystals together and let it mist, kupo, and nothing will catch fire." He said with a tone of disappointment. Taylor arched her good eye brow at him.

"You like fire or something, Mog?" She asked, half joking.

Mog shook his head, pom-pom flopping.

"It's always amusing to see new students set someone or something on fire, kupo, it's a shame I don't get the same experience as your teacher. Kupo, but as a Keyblader, I suppose that's a good thing. Magic is unpredictable in strength with you lot." Mog replied thoughtfully.

Taylor shook her head in disgust. The way he was so sure Taylor was as good as these other Keybladers, whoever they are, just made Taylor more convinced that she wasn't.

How could she live up to being a genuine, galactic, world traveling hero? Someone who took on entire armies single handedly? A hero where wherever they walked brought hope?

How could she, Taylor Hebert, live up to being as greater hero then even Scion?

"So, let's see if we can make you do some magic, kupo. Keyblade?" He asked and Taylor obediently summoned the weapon from within.

"Now, the element are as follow, kupo: fire, ice, lightning, air, earth, magnetic, time, space, and healing kupo, which we'll cover later. There could be more, there are many magic’s just waiting to be discovered after being lost. Magic doesn't like to change itself too much, but there are a lot of options available, kupo.” Mog said.

Amazed, Taylor desperately tried to memorize the list, her mind scrambling to remember it. Panic spread across her face which made Mog shake his head.

"This isn't a test, Kupo, you'll pick these up as you go. Just focus on ice for the moment. Now, kupo, you need to feel for the cold inside you. This bathroom works well, as there is a chill, feel for it and try to draw it to yourself, kupo." Mog gently encouraged

Taylor tried to do it, but really she just felt silly. You didn't draw cold to yourself, you were either cold or you weren't. If you waited then you could get cold...

"Can you show me? I might have an easier time if I see someone else do it." Taylor asked, her Keyblade making for a makeshift leaning post.

Mog was silent for a few seconds.

"I... can't." He admitted.

Taylor stood up in surprise, Melody dangling loosely in her grasp. Mog couldn't do magic? Or just the ice spell?

"Why not? If you don't mind me asking?" Taylor said slowly, uncertain as to why Mog couldn’t demonstrate for her.

Mog’s fur bristled as he floated down on to the ground, annoyed, angry, or embarrassed; Taylor couldn’t tell.

"I just can't, lack of talent my teacher said, kupo. Moogles are usually great at magic! However… I was never good at the finicky stuff. I can use magic, but it's a different method and it's not always good in a pinch or in the middle of battle.” Mog explained somewhat sadly. Then his pom-pom briefly glowed and suddenly Taylor was moving... up?

Taylor looked down and saw her feet dangling a good foot off the ground. With a wave she propelled herself forward a little. She… she was flying? She was flying!

"I'm flying!" Taylor said excitedly, ever since she was little girl, she wanted to fly. With a half squeak she floated into a wall.

"Not flying, floating." Mog said with a laugh. He flew up and joined Taylor in the air.

"I can use magic, kupo, but not innately. Unlike you who has her own magic, my magic, kupo, has to come from somewhere else as I can’t use my own. I can call them, or draw for the more technical term, from people or the land, kupo. Earth-Bet is a bit lacking in magic though, kupo, so I'm limited to drawing from people, like Sabah, which where i got the spell 'float' from." Mog said as he spun in the air and Taylor with a grin copied him.

"That's... insane, Mog, you can draw spells from anyone?" Taylor exclaimed as she hung in the air, the idea that Mog could draw powerful spells from any cape was... Well, it was scary.

It was trump at it’s core, drawing on new powers as the situation changed. Mog could go to any Endbringer fight and just load himself up, maybe even draw from an Endbringer. The sheer possibilities…

Mog drooped, plopping himself back down onto the edge of the basin, his tone annoyed.

"I wish, kupo."

Taylor looked down at his sullen tone, her smile faltering.

"You wish? Come on Mog, stop dancing about the subject, what's wrong?" Taylor gently pulled the Moogle to her as her feet gently dropped back to the ground, the spell fading away. Mog snuggled closer as he spoke.

"Humans can use this method and draw from anyone. It's the nature of humanity to be able to pull great power out of beings for great price to themselves, kupo. However, unless you have an Esper, one of my kind, bonded closely to yourself, you will lose everything that makes you, well, you." Mog explained, looking sad. “Memories, hopes, dreams… friends. All gone, given away for power.”

"Sounds dangerous, are you sure that you should be using it on Sabah?" Taylor asked, now worried for her friend. The idea of Sabah slowly being hollowed out so Taylor could float a few feet off the ground made her stomach turn. The thought of losing Sabah, losing her best friend… No. Never again.

Taylor narrowed her eye at Mog, demanding an answer from the Moogle.

Mog nodded his head, his pop-pom bobbing gently.

"It’s not the targets who are in danger, kupo, but the caster. For a human, they give away a piece of themselves to take the magic. Esper’s like me though, we’re made of magic so we don’t lose ourselves as you do, kupo. As for the target? They might feel tired if you draw too much, kupo, but all you're doing is siphoning of the excess energy used to form spells. Don't get me wrong, idiots have tried to use it as an attack, kupo, but you just hit the magically equivalent of a wall and you can't draw any more. From what I’ve learned, kupo, i can only draw from her once every few hours." Mog said, paw tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief at this. She wouldn’t lose her. Her carelessness and Mog’s magic wouldn’t cost her Sabah. Though now she thought about it, Mog’s explanation of his own magic raised question about her own. Puzzling, Taylor tilted her head slightly.

"What about me? What spell do you get if you draw from me?" Taylor asked, genuinely curious about the oddity of Mog's magic. Mog looked at her and was silent.

"You... keep changing, I can't get a fix on any one spell, kupo, the Keyblade must be messing my signals up. Maybe when you grow as a magic user you'll become more fixed, kupo." He offered in consolation. Taylor sighed, of course she was messed up magically.

Mog floated out of grasp, resuming the lecture.

"Moogles... are different at the core, when it comes down to it, kupo. Unlike humans, we can't simply take magic, Moogles exist in nature by exchanging energies when we use magic or build things. It’s why I'm so good at synthesis, kupo! I can see the material's come together and form, how to use the raw materials to get the outcome. However, with magic, kupo... it just goes right over my head." He sighed.

"Drawing works better for me, but deep down I'm still a Moogle and my magic works the same. When I draw, I give a little of myself back in return, a little bit of energy. It's why Sabah is still awake right now, I draw from her and she feels energized, it's a mutual deal, kupo. Too much drawing and I can just drop like a sack and I can't draw from someone I don't know, their energy is too odd for me to get a hold off for the energy trade. Even then I'm not going to give myself, even a little, to a stranger."

"Not even for powerful spells?" Taylor asked amused. It was kind of funny really, Mog acting as a coffee replacement for Sabah, who hated the drink. Taylor was glad the older girl liked tea, as it was her own preference. But from the amount of sleep Sabah had been getting, she might need more caffeine than tea alone.

Mog interrupted her then, shaking his head.

"I couldn't be sure it would be worth it until I spent time with them, can you imagine spending time with someone you really didn't like, kupo, and all you got in return was munny for the bus ride home?" He said, sounding appalled at the idea.

Taylor agreed, shuddering slightly.

Having to spend time with Sophia or Emma for a new spell? Taylor was sure she couldn’t do it, at least not without snapping and trying to hit someone. Mog's point was a lot more understandable if she looked at it that way.

"So, you can only draw from people you know and like?" Taylor asked, mentally rating back Mog's power level. He might still have been a powerful Trump, but if he could or would only apply it to people he knew and liked, he was a lot less versatile.

Mog shrugged. "I don't need to like them, but it helps, kupo."

Taylor thought that it was hard to see Mog not liking anyone, he was just so... likeable. Taylor couldn't put a finger on it. He was just easy to get along with in a way the people weren’t. She wondered what that said about herself, that she could get along with a probable alien older than her late grandmother than any human bar Sabah. Taylor’s thought’s shied away from that idea, returning to the matter at hand.

"So ice..." Taylor said, her eye re-focusing on the full sink. Mog nodded.

"Feel the cold and direct it, kupo, it's the best way to describe it." He offered with an apologetic shrug.

Taylor nodded, this whole magic thing wasn't so hard, she was casting cure like it was nothing, what was cold water to healing?

She raised the Keyblade and stilled.

The air on her skin, the intake of breath, the chill seeping through her socks and the cold feeling of pressure in her chest. All these feelings, concepts, the creeping chill of winter… Taylor focused, feeling her magic shift in a way impossible to describe but it didn't rise to the surface like it did when she cast cure. With a few pushes and urging the magic half rose, but never reached a usable state.

Taylor breathed deeper, the cold collecting in her lungs, she was feeling the cold, but maybe that wasn't enough? Taylor tried to remember the coldest moments of her life. The days that left cold on the inside, like the cold had reached her bones, that her very heart had frozen.

Being trapped out in the rain after a bad day of school, the feeling of being told her mother had been in an accident, the grief of watching her father self-destructing, the terrible horror of the Locker, the cold metal mixing with the oozing mess, the skittering of insects and her screams fading into the darkness…

The feeling of magic exploded, so cold that it made her gasp, and the Keyblade recoiled like a shot gun blast. Taylor tumbled back and nearly fell into the tub. With a wobbled she gasped as she tried to regain her breath, Taylor looked up at Mog who was floating near the ceiling for some reason.

"Did I do it?" She asked excitedly. Without waiting for an answer she struggled to sit up and looked at the sink.

Gently rippling, flowing, unfrozen water sat peacefully in the basin.

Taylor felt her stomach drop. She had put everything into that attempt.

"Mog... I suck at this. Maybe I should just focus on hitting things?" Taylor said and Mog looked at her, then silently floated close to her head, and gently turned her good eye to face to toilet in her blind sight.

The ceramic seat was covered from base to top in a coating of simmering ice crystals. Under the outside of the seat, icicles drooped, scratching the tiled floor. A heavy wave of cold mist washed away from the ice and traveled a fair distance before it faded.

"I... I did that?" Taylor asked, her voice small.

Mog nodded as he broke off an icicle.

"Pretty solid, I was expecting some cold air, kupo, but I didn’t expect you prove me by doing this much better." He said with pride. Taylor turned slightly and smiled as she studied her handy work, then her own smile froze.

"Mog... what if Sabah needs the toilet before this melts?" She asked lightlly. Mog turned and examine the ice throne.

"Well... we can always stay in here until it melts, kupo, magic ice fades quickly." He offered and they both stared at the solid ice, then at the door where Sabah slammed something heavy against the wall.

"I'll get the hot water running in the shower, Mog get me a bucket!" Taylor said quickly and quickly locked the bathroom door.

"She's going to kill us, kupo!"

A series of beeps rang out in a dark, empty room, warning of an incoming presence.

The door slid open and the dark was illuminated by a corridor light, it was a big room disguised as a much smaller one due to the sheer amount of tools and trinkets stuffed onto every shelve and drawer. Huge machines and screens occupied one side, pushing out towards the center of the room while on the opposite side, scraps and parts of machines and inventions in various stages of construction and deconstruction lay dissected across a series of work benches.

The only empty space was directly in the center, where a single chair and desk sat, like an island in a sea of metal except with stacks of paper instead of palm trees and several computer screens instead of castaways.

The light was blocked as a man walked in and closed the door. Without moving he reached to the wall beside him and entered a long string of numbers into the security pad causing the light above him to flash green.

Tired looking eyes with heavy bags shone in the electric light. With no windows in the room to let in any natural light, the entire area was bathed in green for a few seconds before the console beeped cheerfully, informing the man of the disarmed security. The green light died as white fluorescent lights slowly flickered to life, the deliberate delay helping the man's eyes adjust, preventing a headache.

With a stiffness that spoke of old injuries and tiredness he walked to the desk and began the long process of booting everything up. It was going to be a long night, bar any catastrophes, so it was worth the time spent waiting. The man leaned back and rubbed at his eyes.

If he had a mirror, he knew he would see nothing but a tired office worker, one who’d had far too many long nights and not enough coffee.

His mouth twitched at that, amused. He supposed, in a way, that was exactly what he was. Well, at least on paper. However, as the screens lit up and more the fluorescents came to full strength flooding the lab with light, Colin liked to think of himself as anything but.

Looking at the far wall he felt a touch of pride as he stared at his armor, charging in its rack, his halberd mounted above it with small hooks. He knew it looked like a show stand for a priceless treasure, but… It was an efficient storage method and… It was a reminder, a source of motivation to do better, to always improve. A promise.

He was an office worker, running logistics for lab equipment and personnel.More though, he was Armsmaster, Leader of the Protectorate East-North-East, hero of Brockton Bay. He was a proud fighter of the rising tide of chaos that sought to drown Brockton Bay, no, the whole world, beneath its waves.

But he hadn't been Armsmaster much these last few days. It was an oddity that Colin hadn’t see coming, one he’d never thought he’d see again after he was promoted. Now though, he was spending more time as Coli Wallis, the mid thirties, short hair, goatee wearing, mundane office worker than he was as the armor wearing, master tinker, high flying super-hero that was his normal job.

As the computer systems finally finished booting up, Colin entered his login code. The random string of twenty digits, randomly generated bi-weekly, was an annoyance but a necessary precaution against infiltration. Unlikely as it might seem, one could never be too careful with Strangers.

Finishing his login, Colin resisted a smile at the call already waiting for him. Clicking the flashing green phone icon Colin heard her voice echoed from the speakers around his lab.

"That's some heavy thinking there, careful Colin." Dragon said, her avatar appearing on screen whilst the red light came to life on his own camera, letting him know it was now transmitting.

Colin faced didn't change at the greeting, but a little tension did ease from his shoulders. It was always good to talk to Dragon, even if it was something as normal as their latest projects. Today though, it wouldn’t quite so run of the mill.

"I was thinking about the last few weeks." He said without elaborating. He didn't need too. Dragon, as she always did, understood him, could follow his train of thought as easily as she did the code of a computer. She actually understood him when so few others did.

"I used to think that you were born in that suit of armor, it's nice to see you out and about as normal person for once. So, besides letting your skin catch some needed sunshine, how was she today?" Dragon asked as she did something unseen, her hands drifting about off screen.

Colin respected that about Dragon, admired her for it even, that she was always like, she never stopped working, she never stopped improving, she never stopped helping.

Dragon, she was what he’d always imagined a hero to be, someone like his own mentor. Sometimes he wondered what Hero would have thought of her and lamented that the two had never had the chance to meet. Still, Colin thought she could do with some down time.

Even he recognized the inefficiency of over working yourself. Sometimes you needed to have some down time in order to come back with a fresh perspective. At the pace Dragon worked… It would kill her one day.

He knew he didn’t have room to throw stones though, not with his own glass house. Still, Dragon had asked him a question.

"Taylor was... better. She looked positive enough, visited her father for a record amount of time, able to be in his presence for more than an hour now. She also didn't stop in the park to collect herself afterwards as normal." Colin said as he brought up the reports from Dragon.

The Endbringers were stable for now, but the time was fast approaching for the next attack. Somewhere was about to be hit hard and he could only hope it was minor as the Simurgh’s last attack, though knowing her some promising tinker had vanished before they could make a difference. Regardless, if they stuck to schedule, and Colin had no reason to doubt they wouldn’t, that meant Leviathan was up next.

The Island Drowner.

Fighting Leviathan was a nightmare because unlike the other two, Levithan was fast. Racing across the battlefield at supersonic speeds it moved so quickly that keeping track of it for lone was impossible.

Leviathan also caused the highest civilian death tolls and worse, if not stopped in time, sank entire islands beneath the onslaught of its waves. This was a problem because if the calculations the software he’d been designing with Dragon were correct then…

With a shake of his head, Colin redirected his thoughts to more, not urgent, but… human problems. Besides the incident with Taylor Hebert, only two new capes had appeared in the last two months. Colin wrote a few suggestions about what had been of their powers, recommendations and requests for approach. One was a sound manipulator who could imbued inorganic objects with a set frequency that caused them to vibrated at that frequency for short period of time.

Seemingly harmless it was only a matter of time before the cape discovered resonance frequencies and started leveling buildings. The other cape was a minor brute, but he seemed to get stronger the longer he remained in place. A potentially useful ability, especially given its similarities to Battery of his own team.

As an added bonus, neither one had join any of the existing gangs yet, but Colin expected that was only a matter of time… Unless the PRT and Protectorate got to them first. Tagging the files and pinning his typed responses he sent the files off whilst bringing up another report.

This one was on various crimes committed in Brockton Bay and which suspected villain was involved. He dragged other reports up onto other screens as began trying to eat through the paperwork and make some headway against the bureaucracy that seemed determined to prevent heroes from doing their jobs. He looked over the latest budget cuts he was expected to make, cuts the police had already made, and hmm, a total cut to the Wards psyche team. He carefully highlighted that one and denied it.

Despite most capes disliking them and the poor quality caused by rotating staff, the Wards were legally required to receive counseling, especially Shadow Stalker given probation, not to mention her latest stunt and he’d be damned if he let Piggot short change his Wards because she had their reins now in her grubby grip.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself Colin took a look at next report on the latest reports from central; the latest legal issue with Rogues, once more tightening screws, a report about a potential A class threat in Portugal: a cape with the power to shake the sea bed somehow, possibly large scale hydrokinesis.

He was only a really deemed such a high threat due to possibly upsetting Leviathan early, he couldn't move water out of the sea.

Then there was a summary from Dragon about the research station in Russia that was the Simurgh had destroyed, as well as additional information the thinkers had deemed unimportant.

Finally Dragon sighed, bored on legal minutiae, and resumed their paused conversation.

"You mean she looked happier, Colin? That's good; I was worried about her in the aftermath of the bombings. No sign or indication of the location of Bakuda?" The woman who had an eye on everything, asked him.

"If I had, I wouldn't be here." He answered back as he pulled up the last picture of the mad bomber, taken during her first appearance as a cape and villain during her attack on Cornell College.

Some people eventually fell to villainy after a bad life, others stumbled there along a path paved with good intentions, others were coerced or threatened, but Bakuda was not one of those. No. The Mad Bomber had dived in to villainy with a glee that sickened him. Bakuda, aka Grace Nakane, was the perfect example of someone Colin, no, Armsmaster had sworn to defeat.

A tinker using their powers for frivolous things annoyed him. There was so much potential to be had from someone who really had to work for their strength. Even the Toybox, war profiteers that they were, were at least productive by creating weapons for use against the S-class threats. Tinker’s like Bakuda though, using their powers for senseless violence, to kill because they could... It enraged him.

"I suppose. Now for the elephant in the chat room. What are we going to do about Taylor Hebert?" Dragon asked, her tone revealing no obvious emotion. Colin sighed.

Taylor Hebert was a minefield just waiting for someone to rush in right now.

It was supposed to have been a simple in and out scouting mission. Dragon had come to him some time ago about Taylor Hebert; a report sent that was supposed to have been buried.

Shortly after the meeting with Shadow Stalker about an incident at her school, he had been sitting at his desk like he was now, when, also just like now, Dragon had sent him a bunch of reports. Without saying anything or asking him to, Colin had found the complete report by one Emily Piggot, Director of the Parahuman Response Team East-North-East, to her superiors.

Even before the meeting with Stalker to discuss the girl who had been hospitalized, the very girl who was now beginning to give a head ache, he had inquired about requesting the MRI scans of Taylor Hebert’s brain, performed because of her coma like state.

However, Director Piggot had already had them retrieved and copied, if not illegally then immorally. She had pre-emptively gone behind Taylor and her father’s backs and taken the scans.

It annoyed Colin as he had wanted it done by the official channels. To let Taylor Hebert know of his suspicions, and probably her father too, as well as offering her the safety of the Wards if he was correct. He had been denied contact though, pushed onto other task’s.

Now it appeared he had been wrong, Taylor Hebert was not a Parahuman, until Dragon had highlighted a particular passage and then drew his attention to a section of the MRI picture.

Taylor Hebert had a half formed Corona Pollentia, almost non-existent. Even Dragon's software had been hard pressed to spot it, and if even Dragon had trouble, then Piggot and her team would have certainly failed to spot it.

Perhaps she had damaged her head in some way or had her trigger interrupted, saved at the moment of triggering? It was possible, anything was possible at this point but that was another matter. What was important was that Piggot had classified Taylor Hebert as human, and following that logic, decided that the locker was damaged by some as yet unknown cape.

A cape that went straight for Taylor Hebert with an unknown cutting power, hopefully with the intent of rescuing her.

Piggot had kept, or had been ordered to keep, her cards close to her chest and let Taylor go about her normal life with only a few watchers from a far to monitor her. Dragon and he had come to the conclusion it was less about Taylor's protection and more about spotting the cape that might reveal themselves to Taylor after saving her from the Locker.

There was precedent after all; Shadow Stalker had similarly revealed herself to a girl after saving her, one Emma Barnes if he remembered correctly. Shadow Stalker had gone on to become friends with the girl in her civilian identity. When Shadow Stalker’s trial had come up, it had been Miss Barnes character witness that resulted in Shadow’s Stalker’s probation instead of going to Juvenile Hall.

It was then Dragon has the idea of him, Colin Wallis, not Armsmaster, to go out and watch over her, until the report came in of an all clear, then he would confront Piggot. The idea seemed rather basic and even rash for Dragon, but with some thought it made sense, he had the time, his tinkering was at a all time slow.

So in civilian guise he settled into Taylor Hebert's routine, he was hardly noticeable, a trait that irked him, but was useful in this case. A few days a week he would sit at the back of the bus and watch her get in and leave the her house, or the library, or even the odd shop, safely. The PRT had watchers at set locations and a single one, in car, following her the first week.

The first time Dragon had ordered him off the bus entirely after a couple of stops, as she was sure the old lady she spotted through Colin's camera in his wifi-enabled camera in his glasses was going to report him for being extremely creepy.

"People don't stare unblinking at young girls. Especially older men." She had chided him in his ear mic. Colin didn't see the big deal but the odd thirty minutes needed to be filled each time he followed her, so Colin had done something he hadn't thought he would ever do again.

He sketched ideas to pass the time, using just a simple pad and pen.

Colin hadn't done that since he had completed his first computer simulation and design package after joining the Protectorate.

Computers just made his life easier, numbers crunched instantly, designs made possible much faster and more efficiently than pen and paper. However, after the first couple of days of observing and guarding Taylor he began to... well, enjoy the time out of his workshop.

The bus ride, the rumbling engine so different from his bike, the ambient chatting and noises of people, it made him doodle silly designs, new ideas based on anything he could think off.

Colin had put the bulk of his success, time and resources into his armor, halberd and bike. They were his signature and he was damn proud of them. The sketching though, the sketching was different.

It was soothing. The problem for Colin was, one a lot of tinkers shared, that after a while the roads to new tech and ideas began to get stepper and stepper.

The maintenance of his current gear taking longer and longer. The amount of effort to advance even a single step exponentially harder than the last. So much effort went into reaching each new success, and turning to new ideas after sinking so much time into another was galling.

While sketching though, that pressure was gone. Recently he finished a design that would cut the fuel cost and increase the speed of the bus with a few minor fixes. Then that had went on to relocating that extra energy into stronger lights, then better compact wheels, better structure design and then...

Before he knew it Colin was designing a bus that could carry the same amount of passengers in a smaller space, without increasing the discomfort of having to touch anyone.

Then one day Taylor had gotten on the bus, unlike previously where she had been going to the local library or the one downtown, she’d just finished her second day back at school. Instead of the normal, if introverted and modestly dressed teen he was used to, she’d entered the bus a sticky mess, covered in congealing soda that clung to her hair, clothes and bag.

Colin didn't blame the people who chose to walk past her to sit next to someone else. If she smelled as bad as she looked, then Colin would have followed suit. Taylor had taken the bus an extra few stops than her usual trip that day. Far beyond her house and not towards either library.

When following Taylor, Colin had never gotten off the bus. There were watchers that patrolled her street that would take over from when she got off, and as relaxing as this time had become for Colin, he was still a man with a job to do, he just had to hope Taylor would be fine and the PRT personnel would do their job.

However, this divergence from her normal routine had come out of nowhere, or was at least related to her condition. Was she perhaps, going somewhere to use her possible power to clean herself up, relieve stress? Or was she going to meet the cape who had saved her? If such a person existed.

With a snap decision Colin had rocketed off the bus after her and managed to slow himself as he left the bus, ignoring the bewilder bus driver. Looking around for her he’d spied Taylor down the street, already a fair bit ahead of him.

"Follow her, but don't chase." Dragon had urged over his ear mic. Colin had nodded, and followed at a brisk walk. It was easy really, the down trodden girl didn't even look for a tail as she headed for a basement flat in mid-town near the edge of where the ABB claimed land ended and Empire began.

The rain was coming down quite heavily when she bumped into a girl, whom he now highly suspected of being the Rogue cape Parian. After meeting the older girl they both vanished into the apartment and nothing more had happened.

After waiting for nearly an hour and getting thoroughly soaked, Colin decided to leave Taylor there for the day. He needed to return to base to get ready for his patrol which began at 22-hundred. With everything else he had to do today he wouldn't be done until 3 am. He would need defiantly be needing a lot of coffee, even if he disliked the dependency.

Dragon had promised to ping him if there was any disturbance in the area, which had eased his mind slightly.

It had been a quiet night that day, more a relaxing ride on his bike than some of the more frantic patrols he’d had, doing battle with either Lung or Kaiser. Still, Colin had felt a frustration building at yet another night of performing such a Public Relations oriented task when simply being on call would so much more efficient.

While his image helped instill a sense of safety, and the knowledge that such patrols deterred crime and encouraged recruitment, there were so many better things he could have spent the time on. The city needed its problem pulled out at the roots, not this papering over the cracks.

The Empire, the ABB, and the Merchants were poisoning the city each in their own different way. The Empire ran guns and fight clubs for both people and dogs, the ABB dealt in slavery, human trafficking for a more PC name, while the Merchants harbored numerous rapists and kidnapped people, though at least they didn’t sell them out of state or overseas like the ABB. On top of that, all of them ran drugs and extortion rackets. Such disturbing and entrenched crime…

It would never end with simple patrols.

Colin had almost crashed in his lab that night, half asleep from caffeine withdrawal, when Dragon had called him.

A situation had arisen on the street where he had left Taylor. He was half into his armor when Dragon called again, this time amused.

Everything was under control and new images were rapidly flooding in as people did what they did best in aftermath of cape-fights or disasters. They took pictures.

"Is that...?" Colin trailed off seeing the figure in the hoodie and red ski goggles. Dragon showed him other pictures, of all angles and distances.

A scowl came over his face when snaps of Assault appeared with a cape he would have bet motorcycle was Taylor Hebert. Dragon enhanced a good quality image of her face and ran it through some filters to combat the red tint.

Taylor's eyes stared out in awe at the older cape.

Looks like he’d have kept his motorcycle, though he’d never doubted it.

"It should be me out there, introducing her formally to the world of capes, the one night I decided not to take the late patrol to try to get some work done on the nano-thoorns." Colin had grumbled moodily.

Dragon had just sighed, her avatar giving a wry grin.

"Focus, Colin, she's a Parahuman." Dragon had calmly pointed out. Colin paused mid thought and swiveled back to the picture of her holding a giant key.

"The size of her Corona, can she truly have any exceptional power? I mean, subjectively, she would have minor telekinesis or something similar, if anything at all." Colin said as he leaned forward. Dragon hummed.

"We don't know that much about powers. There have been scientists studying the Corona Gemma and Pollentia day and night for decades and they are no closer than when they started. A smaller Corona might mean more focused powers instead of powerful ones, didn't Dauntless have an extremely large one?" Dragon's voice turned speculative towards the end, the idea intriguing her.

The ‘golden boy’ of the protectorate was a sore spot to Colin. It frustrated him that where someone like himself, a true Tinker, had to spend hours every day just maintaining his gear to not slide backwards, Dauntless progressed every day without effort. What made it worse was that Dauntless was called a Tinker too! A Tinker who progressed without effort.

While Colin’s powers had diminishing returns after every success, his specialty of efficiency allowing for his remarkable miniaturization, meant he was amazing at getting his money’s worth out of everything he built. What would need double the space and energy, Colin could have done in half and then some, but there was always work to be done, ways to fine tune it. And then there was always the next project to work on, the newest upgrade, the newest weapon…

But Dauntless...

He would grow and grow, that fact alone didn't bother Colin, and it was the simple fact that Dauntless got it for nothing. He could sit around eating a doughnut and then he would suddenly charge his spear or boots. Another boost, a little better than before, just like that.

No hours of work, no hair pulling and frustration at the dead ends that his powers couldn’t cover, no sleepless nights trying to get a project finished on time, no committees sending hours of effort to the scrap pile because it was too 'dangerous' or 'not PR friendly'… No effort, no stress and all the praise.

People said Dauntless was going to be on par with Triumvirate, that he was the next Legend.

They never once said Colin would be the next Hero.

"It's one of the true facts we have, that holds true across all Parahumans, they all have functional Coronas." Colin snapped, his temper flaring. “Taylor Hebert does not.”

Dragon was silent for a few seconds.

"...Not of all them, Colin." Dragon said with quietly.

"You shouldn't be so quick to cast her aside because she isn't a tinker, she may well be, but unless I can scan the weapon, I can't tell." Dragon said continued, her mood stung by Colin's words.

Colin sighed, chastised and weary.

"I apologize, I'm just frustrated that I wasn't there, ready to help."

And ever since that night, Colin and Dragon had kept a closer eye on Taylor. The meeting with the Wards had been promising, Taylor or rather, Keynote, showing positive feelings towards Heroes, even if she distrusted the Protectorate itself. While he didn’t approve, Armsmaster could understand her feelings given Director Piggot’s actions, not to mention her… confrontation with Shadow Stalker.

However, Bakuda’s bombings had almost forced Dragon to inform the Director of a potential risk. Taylor’s manic grin and empty eye when she’d tried to collect herself had been troubling for Colin to view later. He’d seen that look before, every Tinker had.

Sphere, the final photo of the famous Tinker after he’d been attacked by the Simurgh. Taylor Hebert had shared that haunted, empty eye with the eyes of a man who would go onto join the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Thankfully, Taylor had not gone down that path. She returned to the home of, he suspected, Parian and had subsequently calmed down and returned to a stable disposition. Now tonight, there was a new problem.

Problems seemed to follow Taylor Hebert like Assault followed Battery.

"Well? I can't stall things any more, we have to make a decision." Dragon’s avatar frowned at him from the screen.

"Is the social service finally getting the case files in order?" Colin asked, a smirk on his face.

Dragon had tried to stall an investigation into Taylor's life, the reasoning that the longer Taylor had stability in her life, the less likely she would snap and instead of a moderately heroic Rogue, they’d end up with a murderous Villain.

Parian was that stability right now, the anchor grounding Keynote. So Dragon had... rearranged some things without breaking her personal rules. Colin had to wonder at the insane amount of rules and red tape she set for self when it came to her snooping and powers online.

"They did eventually fish Taylor's file out of the tax forms. Now they're sending someone to speak with her at Parian's. Her father's friend informed the case worker where she was staying. Daniel Hebert had no will, so they're thinking it's a pretty cut and dry case of fostering. I guess he just never got around to making it." Dragon said with a sigh, files popping up.

"So, worst case is that Taylor gets a surprise visit and takes it badly. Best case is...?" Colin trailed off as Dragon displayed a single file on his screen.

"This?" he said unsure.

Dragon quickly highlighted several sections and when she spoke, she sounded smug.

"This is a rogue employment form, it's used by independent companies outside PRT funding to inform the PRT that a Parahuman will be used in one function or another on their bank roll. The sheet asked general things like criminal record, Cape name, age bracket, and so on. The PRT of course can't ask for, or write down, details of the capes civilian identity, outside a representative meeting them while unmasked or charges being pressed. So naturally the PRT would learn the identity regardless." Dragon stated, pointing out each section as Colin read the paper over.

"I'll admit, I haven't seen this before, rogues being so rare as it is here in Brockton Bay, but how does this help exactly?" He said, noting the 1 out 32 stamped at the bottom corner.

"Well as it turns out, this form acts as contract of sort between the cape and the company that hires them. When the law was written so that the PRT could employ capes to form the Protectorate, there were of course many companies that discovered a loophole which meant any organization could legally employ a cape, so long as they were officially employed in their civilian identity." She pulled up the relative laws in another window.

"Efforts have of course been made to plug this loophole or make working for anyone else unattractive to both the cape and company. For example, a company employing a cape is responsible for them in a legal capacity any time they are in costume, not just during working hours. So if, say, an employed cape gets in a fight and damages a car, it’s the company’s responsibility to pay for the damage so long as the cape was in costume, the cape not actually being responsible themselves to prevent the suing of individual heroes. Similarly, if the cape requires aid, they must go to their company to be taken care off, instead of the PRT."

"So what you're saying is, if someone signs this, then they agree that the PRT will officially wash their hands of them, restricts their power and prevents them from having the full authority of a PRT issued cape? That the company employing them is responsible for them in all activities and party to any crime they might commit?" Colin said, sounding incredulous at the idea of agreeing to so little gain while losing so much at the same time.

It was the direct opposite of how he ran and designed everything, maximum gain for minimal cost. That someone would forgo their own basic rights, or that a law made such a thing necessary and legal…

"Exactly, but it does point out that if Taylor signed this, then the Doll House, which counts under the laws and terms of the contract she signed, could officially step in and stop Taylor from going anywhere. The Doll House is legally responsible for her in all fashions, including being a de facto guardian. I assume Parian was under a similar deal when she signed on, if she was the same general age. The only down side is that this contract is aimed at adults, but it does come with a parental or guardian page, for them to sign and agree that their child is doing this with full permission if they are under age as required for any employment contract for a minor. More, this is the paper work the Doll House sent." Dragon pulled up a sheet of paper that was a wall of text that made Colin’s eyes hurt.

"Cape law is so convoluted." Colin sighed in disgust, eyeing the names and addresses scored out.

"Only the Doll House has an unedited copy, which is where the representative goes to check the authenticity, to make sure no wanted capes are posing under a new mask. Danny signed and dated the contract a short while before he was incapacitated by the bombs. It's all legal. If you agree, and it's a pretty big risk career wise, you could be the representative without needing Piggot's permission. It never specifies who needs to see the cape unmasked, just that someone does. Whether that person is a Cape or not is never actually covered, it’s just has to be a member of the PRT, which Colin Wallis is." Dragon said lightly, trying not to sounds too happy at the way it was all coming together.

"One problem, you can't be a security guard if you're not of age, that's a normal law. Cape or not." Colin shot back, reclining in his chair. Dragon's tone got even smugger if that was possible.

“Keynote isn't officially a security guard, look again."

Colin flicked the screen back to the first page and read past the names and dates, past the titles and then on to the occupation. He felt his lips twitch. As much as he might like having a new Ward, seeing another cape doing good was sometimes enough. And giving Piggot a headache, whilst inefficient, often gave him some grim satisfaction for her often obstructionist behavior. More so now she’d managed to wrangle the Wards under her personal control.

"Piggot isn't going to be happy, is she?"

"Not at all."

Taylor was dreaming and…

It was… really one of favorites, she was on stage and the world was cheering her on, a guitar styled like the Keyblade in her hand. She raised it higher and the endless amount of people went wild, Taylor felt herself grin and look down. There in the front row...Sabah cheered the loudest and hardest, her own smile and excitement clear on her face. Taylor reached down and pulled her out the crowd, ignoring everyone else, Sabah wasn't anyone else...Taylor put a hand to the guitar and...

…was suddenly interrupted by loud crashing noise, startling her awake.

Eye snapping open she simultaneously tried to blink away the sleep gumming her eye and squint against the invasive brightness from someone turning on the lights.

Reaching up to rub at her eye to speed things up, Taylor’s caught movement just out of the corner of her eye and behind the couch. Turning she looked up and screamed.

A face was leering over her, its mouth inhumanly wide. Taylor scrambled back and fell off the couch with a thump. The pain from the bump brushed away the last cobwebs of sleep from her mind. Shaking her head she looked again at the thing behind her bed… couch.

A girl, no, a boy… Both? A person stood where Taylor had last seen them, there face painted with an exaggerated smile that went from ear to ear. The paint made her skin white and her smile ruby red. They leaned forward with a cascade of jingles from the movement, Taylor's eye flicked over them, taking in the invader.

A jester was the most immediate thought. A tight orange suit with teal highlights along the sides and arms, small gold bells rested on her orange cap, more at her wrists and ankles.

The jester took a steep and coattails that she had missed before fluttered and more bells shook at their tips. Taylor looked about and spotted and open high window on the other side of the room, curtains fluttering in the breeze.

How the hell did the Jester get in here and over to her without waking her while wearing bells? Speaking of which, what did wake her, it wasn't the bells?

The answer came from behind her.

"Get away from her!" Sabah snarled as she dashed,through her swinging bedroom door and picture covered wall to stand in front of Taylor, shielding her from the clown. Jesters were supposedly common in the costume department, more so on the villain side, but this was Taylor's first glimpse of one and she finally understood the feeling of being creeped out and terrified of them was fully justified.

"Sabah, what the hell is going on? Who is that?" Taylor demanded, her voice octave higher than she would have liked but too freaked out to really care.

Sabah waved her hand, a thread flying from and connecting to a giant bear draped over a chair for repairs began to inflate.

"Now, now." The jester said, her voice harsher than Taylor expected. A knife flew from her hand and the bear popped like a balloon and Sabah flinched. Another knife appeared in the girl's hand and she began to toss it up and catch it.

"First off, I got’ta fucking apologize for this, I didn't actually think you slept here. Was hoping it was a base or some shit, so uh... sorry for unmasking you and attacking you in your home and shit." The Clown said, catching their knife overhead at the peak of every throw. Bells jingled as their arm moved, repeating the motion.

Throw.
Jingle.
Throw.
Jingle.
Throw.
Jingle.

"Second, I'm not here to hurt you, so don't go trying to cause shit, yeah? I'm going to do what I came here to do and fucking get out, it’s a job, nothing fucking personal. So, we fucking clear?" They said.

The jingling must have finally set Sabah off.

"I know you. You're that two-bit thief, Circus. What do you think you're doing barging in here? This is my home, my private home. Do the rules meannothing to you?" Her friend demanded.

Circus nodded as if Sabah was calmly informing of the weather.

"Like I said, shit fucking happens, and I'm a thief, personal space invasion is kinda my fucking thing, you get me?" Circus said, her tone flippant.

Taylor goggled at her. She may not have been a cape long, and was kind of new to the whole unwritten rules thing but… Wasn’t attacking another cape in their home something that was frowned upon? Or brutally murdered upon?

More, Circus had managed more fucks in the last 2 minutes that Taylor had in the last 2 months. It was… kind of impressive.

The jester’s actual mouth seemed to shift into a frown or a grimace, it was hard to tell with all the paint.

"How the fuck did you hear me anyway? I've practiced my ass off to do this thing in my fucking sleep." Circus asked, a hand on their hip, catching the knife for the final time as it fell with the other hand.

Sabah’s lips thinned, her expression icy.

"I have... a pet that likes to get out, the windows creak when you open them, I thought he was stuck." Sabah explained curtly, then she twitched her wrist and the rug under Circus suddenly flew out from where it lay. Circus flipped into the air, completing a whole spin to land on their feet.

Non-plused they stood up, tilting their head speculatively.

"That's what I get for not fucking scouting ahead, rookie mistake, but no offense or anything, you guys don't really seem all that fucking threatening, but fuck me, right?" Circus bent and scooped something up.

Taylor's Keyblade.

"Love to stay gossip and all that fucking jazz, but I got shit to do." Circus said cheerfully and then flipped backwards and then launched herself out the open window, the Keyblade over her shoulder.

Silence past between Taylor and Sabah as they looked from each other, then to the window.

Taylor raised one hand and in a flash the Keyblade appeared safely in her grip.

"Circus isn't going to like that." Sabah said with a sigh, Mog peered out, head poking around the bedroom door.

"Is safe to come out? I could help, kupo." Mog said.

Sabah shook her head firmly.

"No one gets to see you, especially people like Circus, less they kidnap you and dissect you." She said without joking, her face grim. Taylor guessed having your home invaded would put anyone in a bad mood. Hell, it was terrifying and she didn’t even… well, not officially… It wasn’t home.

Taylor snapped back into focus as Mog vanished back into the bedroom and hid. She rolled her eye. Mog was a giant wuss when it came to Sabah. It was cute.

"Well, that was weird. Is she dangerous?" Taylor asked as Sabah moved forward and closed the window with a pole.

"Mostly harmless, she's a small time thief who likes to run when things get hot, never heard of her going after capes before..." Sabah said and before she could continue, there was a polite knock at the door.

Sabah looked at Taylor before she sighed and opened it.

Circus was standing there, arms crossed, definitely frowning now.

Her foot tapped impatiently.

"This is going to sound fucking weird, but I swear just stole something and it fucking ran away from me. Is that normal? Or am I fucking crazy?" The Jester asked Sabah seriously.

Sabah slammed the door shut and locked it. Turning, the Middle-Eastern girl made it a few stepped before Circus broke the door down with a giant cartoon like hammer.

"Knock, fucking, knock!" Said the Clown with a crazed gleam in her eyes. Sabah scrambled back, but Taylor had already rushed forward, Keyblade raised and at the ready, blocking Circus’ next strike, giving time for Sabah to climb to her feet.

Circus eyed the Keyblade blocking her hammer and licked her lips.

"Come to Circus." She whispered snatching at the sword . Taylor leap back retreating step for step as the evil clown advanced. Taylor didn't really know how to handle this, what did you do with a crazy villain trying to steal your magic sword?

Hmm, Sabah had tried to knock Circus on her ass, so maybe Taylor decided she should follow her friend's example. With a sudden step forward, Taylor jabbed the Keyblade at the other cape. With the fluidity of a snake, Circus side stepped and swung the hammer at Taylor's side.

Taylor rolled back, ending up across the room but Circus chased her with a cartwheel. Coming out of her spin, Circus heaved her hammer and slammed it down and missed as Taylor rolled again, but reduced the coffee table to splinters.

Seeing her chance, Taylor lunged at her, Keyblade swinging, but then without warning the giant hammer was gone from its place on the floor and was traveling in Circus's other hand towards Taylor's face.

A giant rabbit paw caught the hammer, halting the weapon cold. It then exploded in a rush of air that sent Circus tumbling back and the hammer crashing behind the kitchen counter. Sabah stood, panting over the tattered remains of the giant bunny.

"Get away from her, you bitch!" Sabah snarled, eyes wild. The day had not been any kinder to Sabah as it went on; the stress of clients’ wants and needs for a slimmer dress, a tighter bosom, changing colors or booking times, costly materials, and even personal tailoring had made Sabah... cranky.

"No need for the fucking name calling!" Circus called out from the other side the room, flipping to their feet. With a flick of the wrist, a knife appeared in their hand. Another flick flung the weapon which flew out and past Sabah's face, leaving a thin cut. Her friend yelped and dived behind the couch for cover.

Circus took the distraction as a chance to rush towards the kitchen, Taylor threw the Keyblade in an attempt to stop her. It spun through the air whistling towards Circus, who rolled over the counter, over plates, pots, scales and even a cook book trying to dodge as the blade homed in. Taylor blinked as she watched though because each item vanishing as it made contact with Circus. The jester vanished form view as they flipped the table onto its side and without a target the Keyblade impaled itself into the overhead storage space for cans.

Taylor saw a gloved hand dart up from where Circus was, grasping at the Keyblade, fingers brushing the metal. Taylor called it back and it reappeared in her hands, Circus's hand quickly withdrew. Taylor cursed, her aim being shot due to her missing eye...

Not that she was complaining, now that she thought about it, bisecting Circus wasn't a good thing, it was one thing to beat the crap out of her, but another to be her murderer.

Circus darted out without warning and ran at her, kicking a pillow at Taylor, who freaked and slashed it, sending cotton everywhere. The orange clad girl ran up onto a wooden chair that was never comfortable and tipped it forward towards Taylor, balancing it perfectly as she flicked her at Taylor's hands.

Taylor flinched as she was unable to move in time and braced herself to feel the stabbing pain of Circus's... whisk?

Taylor blinked at the metal whisker as it bounced harmlessly off her hand.

Circus tipped back and flipped to the other side of the couch, kicking the chair at Taylor as she did so, forcing her to dodge. With quick motion the whisk was flung aside and then a spoon took its place. They stared at it then quickly shook their hand and then a plate took its place, then an unused cook book, then a rolling pin. Circus eyed it and gave a disgusted grunt.

"I guess this will do, I fucking hate being so damn bloated. You're lesbian lover, boss lady needs to clean her fucking kitchen out. It's fucking unhealthy to have this much junk." Circus, pointing the rolling pin at Taylor.

Taylor frowned in response.

"I'm not her lover and I'm not a lesbian." Taylor corrected her.

Circus shrugged.

"Don't mock it until you've knocked it." She said simply and grinned at Sabah who was red faced with anger.

"Stop stealing my stuff!" Sabah ordered, eyes blazing and cheeks flushing even more.

Circus kissed the rolling pin and charged Taylor again.

Sabah suddenly ducked sideways and sent a roll of discarded fabric that had been knocked aside in the chaos at Circus, the fabric rolled along and then like a snake, snagged Circus mid-run.

The fabric quickly spread, coiling around and around the manic clown. More and more layers appeared as Sabah touched other fabric rolls until Circus looked like a giant present, minus the bow.

Sabah sighed and glared at the wide eyes of Circus, the only part left uncovered.

"You tried to cut through that and I’ll squish you until you're nothing but red dye. Stay still until we decided what to do with you." Sabah threaten and turn to Taylor, but before she could say anything the entire fabric containing Circus was gone and a quick tap on Sabah, Circus had the soft prison appear around the smaller girl, though it was much looser, but with the eye window on the back of Sabah's head.

Sabah immediately tripped over and began to panic. Taylor swiped at Circus, who avoided each whistling blow with ease.

"Your aim is shit. The eye patch can't be fucking helping at all." Circus mused and then grabbed Taylor's arm and spun her into a nearby wall with a cracking sound.

Taylor's vision blurred as her head smacked into the wall. Her ears ringing, and black spots floating across her vision, she almost crumbled there. But with a force of will she lifted the Keyblade into the air and the familiar green sparks washed over her.

“Cure.”

Taylor's vision cleared and she pulled herself up, Circus stood there, watching, mouth hanging open.

"That... wasn't fucking mentioned in the contract. You're a fucking healer that can heal yourself? Are you shitting me?" she demanded angrily.

Taylor narrowed her gaze at the other cape and decided enough was enough. This person, this cape, this villain had broken in to Sabah's home, her friend's home… Maybe even her home and they thought they were allowed to be angry?!

Pointing the Keyblade at Circus, she called up the feeling that she had summoned only that morning, this time keeping her eye open. The creeping cold of despair, the chill of terror, winter’s icy touch…

The Keyblade glowed at the tip and she pulled the magic back a little, not wanting to shoot icicles, but wanting the same punch to the spell

A fine mist exploded out the Keyblade and hit Circus full on, a layer of ice suddenly forming across every inch of Circus's body.

Circus tried to move but found herself struggling against her unmoving prison. Taylor grinned at her success. Magic was unbending in its rules, but outside that? There was a lot she could do, a thousand ways to use the same spell so long as she was determined. It was even better that iciles which would have killed Circus because without air she’d suffocate. Then Taylor could just break them out when they fell unconscious and were no longer throwing knives at her friend.


Taylor moved past the frozen cape, glaring at their struggles, and began to help Sabah get out of the tangled fabrics.

Taylor had only been at the task for a minute before she heard the sound of hissing air and turned to see Circus's entire body glow with heat, as if fire were flickering beneath the ice. The ice melted off her, the prison shattering with a crack as frozen lumps fell to the floor.

When Circus looked up, Taylor felt her own body freeze.

Circus took off her cap, a tied up mop of blonde hair being revealed and twisted the hat with both hands, a healthy amount of water rinsed out from the fabric and then Circus shoved it back on, the cap losing most of its cheerful pluck, now reminding Taylor more of a wilting flower.

Circus took a breath and then released it. A knife appearing in their hand, they began to spin it slowly and purposely.

"Okay, I am a rational person, I understand that you, being the victim in all this, would be understandably upset at me, the criminal, for disturbing you this good night. I, the criminal, understand that I do no incur feelings of generosity or good hostlyness." Circus said in a very calm and light voice.

It scared Taylor more than anything else she had done tonight, the lack of anger made her somehow sound much more threatening, not less.

"However, I do not like getting fucking wet!" Circus screamed, her eyes losing any semblance of humanity as she rushed at Taylor like a wild animal, Taylor gaped at her and reached for the Keyblade she had left next to her on the ground, but Circus flipped and landed on her, pinning Taylor's arms under her body, a knife under Taylor's chin.

"Now, now. This is where the fucking game stops. I am going to take the fucking big, beautiful, key, and you are going to fucking stay here." Circus crooned, trailing the knife against Taylor's throat. Taylor glared at her.

"You won't get far, it always comes back." She said, trying to keep her voice steady. Circus smirked and reached for the Keyblade, never taking her eyes of Taylor's.

"I have a solution for that, a place where only I can fucking get to. Doesn't matter if it gets lost after I turn it over, tough shit to the next person. Once I have it, it loses its shine. Becomes... boring."

And the she touched the blade and the room exploded in white light.

Taylor felt something twang and scream inside her head and she knew no more.

Consciousness was suddenly thrust upon Taylor and she sat up bewildered, the couch she was lying on was the same one she been sleeping on for the last week and bit.

Sunlight was streaming in through the ground level windows up near the ceiling, illuminating the flat. Taylor stood, blankets falling to the floor and wobbled forwards. She… she had to help. Cir-circus could still… still be around.

Catching herself on the end of the couch she looked around and the place looked... tidy? The damage Circus had caused, and some she had done herself, was mostly swept away.

Taylor only saw a few splinters left over from the table on the floor, the open space looking unnatural to her. It was odd seeing empty space where Sabah’s favorite table had always sat, where they’d shared so many memories together.

Hearing voices coming from behind her, Taylor spun around, confused. Sabah was stiffly pointing a finger at a blond man in the kitchen, who was eating something.

Taylor felt something stir at the sight of him, but her head still felt foggy and she couldn’t place him.

Suddenly panic shot through her as Taylor remembered what Circus had done at the end. Desperately she called and her shoulders slumped in relief as the keyblade appeared with a familiar flash in her hand.

So Circus hadn’t managed to steal it, that was relief.

Still, that left the stranger sitting in Sabah’s kitchen. Sabah never had anyone over, in all the times Taylor had come over, or during her time staying here, Sabah had never invited anyone else, unless you counted Mog and Boco but they lived here. She looked the man over as she tried to get her bearings, wondering who the hell they were.

The man was older than Taylor, late teens, possibly early twenties if she had to guess. The light blond hair spilling down his neck and brushing his shoulders was well cared for, it flowed rather than hung. He was the same height as Taylor, but had the body of a dancer, the slightly too tight shirt showed no fat, but tightly corded muscles. The shirt was torn slight at the bottom, exposing a thin strip of his stomach and the jeans were ripped at the knees.

‘Bad boy’ was the vibe she got from the clothes, but the face and body gave off another vibe altogether.

Dangerous.

He moved silkily and without hesitation when he talked, the food always hitting dead center of his full lips.

As Taylor approached, she began to hear more than just a murmur, their attempt at being quiet had kept her from listening to them sooner.

"-this is how you begin repaying us, payment that I've already told you doesn't even begin to make up for what you did? By eating my cake, my lastslice of cake?" Sabah said with a dark look, her hands balled into tight fists.

The man shrugged and grinned. The familiar pang of knowing rang in Taylor's head again, follow by intense pain.

"Well I thought, 'Poor girl has got this really fattening piece of cake and she has no will power, I better fucking eat it before she gets fat,’ so that's what I fucking did. Nice of me, right?" The man, Circus, said cheerfully. Taylor reeled back as the image of Circus was laid over the man, the costume, the body language, the language… It was more than enough for her to fit it together in her head and it fit perfectly.

Taylor reached for Sabah and tried to scramble back at the same time. Circus grinned at her, his mouth full of dark cake.

"Morning, sunshine. Slept like the dead you did." Circus said as he swallowed, Sabah raised a hand, her fist uncurling and waved her down, stopping Taylor’s desperate tugs. Taylor looked into the older girls eyes, seeking an answer.

"Taylor, we're okay, it's fine, there’s no danger to us." Sabah said slowly and carefully. Taylor blinked at her.

No danger? Was Sabah insane? Circus, the mad clown himself, was less than five feet away and Sabah said there no danger?

"Sabah, I think your guest is... uh… well." Taylor floundered for the right words as she gestured at the hole in the cupboard. If Sabah hadn’t, whatever reason, picked up on the clues, then Taylor had to be careful, if she just blurted his cape name out, he might drop whatever little game he was playing and resume the killer clown one.

Circus nodded and looked up, and raised a hand to point at his own face.

"Handsome? It's a fucking curse." He lamented the hand shifting to clutch his heart while he looked heaven-ward, as if blaming God.

Sabah shot him a dirty look, her lip curling, it was a new look Taylor had never seen before, absolute disgust. Sabah hadn’t even used this look after talking to Kaiser, king of the Nazis. All around her, on the floor, counters, shelves and even in her hair, there was dozens of silver little needles. They all laid perfectly still.

Still, Taylor had seen the kind of frenzy Sabah could whip them into and she felt a little bit safer.

"Is Circus, I know. He hasn't left since you got knocked out, to be honest, I haven't let him. Once I got out of the fabric roll, we... had a disagreement. He tried to steal your Keyblade three more times and just kept coming back. I got pissed off." Sabah said smoothly as a single needle stood straight up on its point and began to turn slowly. Behind her, more smashed plates slowly picked themselves up and floated towards a black bag. The needle spun fast and faster, almost becoming a blur.

A warning.

Taylor felt her head throb as the confusion built.

“Why?" Taylor asked incredulously, pointing, much like Sabah had moments before, at Circus. The man shrugged in response and pointed at Sabah, as to say 'ask her'.

Sabah opened her mouth, closed it and threw her hands up in disgust. A bunch of needle rattling violently at the expression.

"I've been trying to figure that out. I don’t know what to do with him." She said, her tone angry at his presence

Circus stage coughed and both girls glared at him.

"Well... for one, I crashed in here like a fucking idiot last night and sort’a flipped my shit out. I unmasked you’s for one thing. So to make things fair, and to make sure you don't blab and get everyone after my head, especially since you’re fucking chummy with the Nazis, I decided to even the odds and so voila, here I am." He bowed with smile.

"Jess Quinn, at your fucking service." Circus, Jess, said pompously.

Talyor stared as he straightened. Sabah snorted.

"Also the fact you can’t take the Keyblade and the fact that I'm holding you prisoner, has nothing to do with you still being here." She said acidly.

Jess's face was the picture of innocence, except for the impish grin.

"I never said I was here under my own power . I already called off the job, paid back the money by phone, and explained that the object in question was quite fucking unstealable, per you're fuck-...politely worded request." Jess said, the last of the cake vanishing into his mouth, as he rapidly changed his words at Sabah's expression.

"I told you to watch your language..." Sabah said, more needles spinning now.

"Called who?" Taylor asked with a narrowed gaze, demanding an answer. The headache making her squint

Jess didn't appear impressed.

"My employer of this particular job, who's name and identity will be kept to my fu-... self, he ain’t a man to cross. So, like a smart person, I’ll keep my mouth shut and so will you’s. Don't push for answers. Dolly girl over there is scary, but the man I work for is far worse." Jess replied, his tone dropping from cheerful for the first time since Taylor woke up, the absolute seriousness now leaked from his words.

Sabah crossed her arms.

"If that's all you have to say, then fine, you can stay here until you tell us." She said flatly.

Jess put a slender finger to his chin.

"I could.... But I won't. If you keep me hostage, you'll need to keep me secure, feed me, or at least water me and then when you start torturing me, you better sound proof these windows. I was expecting a tinker's side lab or something, but this is way under budget, unless you got yourself a nice little dungeon next door?" Circus said, and Taylor was silently impressed by his composure, but saw his hands flex like he wanted something sharp there and was restraining himself.

Then Taylor saw why.

Behind Circus's head was floating needles, all the way down to his boots. Each needle wavering only slightly. Only a few floated in front, halting any chance of him running.

Sabah was effectively creating a one sided iron maiden.

"My heart bleeds, now answer the question." Sabah said as she turned away.

Taylor bit her lip. This wasn't like the gentle girl at all, but if she stopped her, then Circus would take the chance to escape or strike back, or even worse, Sabah would feel like Taylor didn't trust her.

She didn't really care for Jess, at all, she was sure that she would now have a phobia of clowns for the rest of her life, but the feeling of just torturing someone for information was far beyond her comfort level and she was 99% sure it was for Sabah too.

It was… was unheroic. Didn't Heroes refuse to stoop to such levels? Even to Villains? She was a Rogue, but still.

This line of logic didn't strike her as very persuasive thanks to her jaded mind. Everyone could be a horrible person, just look at E-Emma. But Taylor was a Hero and Heroes were supposed to help people… Even someone like Circus. Still, in her experience no one really helped anyone, not for nothing… Well, except Sabah. Sabah had helped her for nothing, but that was exception not the rule. Even if she was trying to be like that, to help people like Sabah had helped her… Did that really apply to someone who had attacked Sabah? Discarding that line of reasoning, Taylor tried a different self-justification.

If Jess, the mad clown, was in here, with them, he would eventually talk or bargain with them, if Sabah began to weaken, then all they had to do was phone the police and report the break in of a mad man.

Then hope Circus went quietly, or if he did try to let something slip, remind him casually that he was painting a target on his back if he did. Parian's identity might still leak, however, and letting people, the E88 in particular, find out that Sabah was operating in E88 land was bad. So the police were out. Sabah might even reject the PRT out right, her dislike of the organization was still a bit of a mystery to Taylor, but the PRT could very well turn this into a 'you owe us and we will collect' kind of thing and that was worse, for Sabah anyway.

So if they could lure the jester into relaxing, letting something slip… Then they could boot him to the curb afterwards, with a needle to help him along the way.

So logically, the smart thing to do was... help Sabah apply pressure.

"Taylor, don't get close, that power of his let's him send or summon anything he touched from all over his body to somewhere else, my telekinesis seems to clash with it a little, but I don't want you getting knocked out again." Sabah said.

Taylor looked at her and tried to appear confident, even as she felt her heart wilt beneath her friends worried gaze.

Sabah didn't like this at all, the needles, the threats, the stress.... Sabah wanted to create dresses and moan about customers, to stuff her into ridiculous dresses and too tight jeans… Then this jester freak came along and made her use her power to fight? To force Sabah to use violence when she hated it? To make Sabah use her power in a way which it upset her?

"You aren't going to kill him if he moves right?" Taylor began and Sabah’s eyes bugged out of her head at the suggestion

"I feel tempted, he stabbed my bear and smashed my rabbit. I'm not feeling charitable." She said quietly. Taylor tried to point out that he also nearly killed her with a knife to throat, but Sabah wasn't in the mood for distractions.

"I just remembered! The man who hired me, silly fucking me, and ignore her Taylor, girlie here is just crabby because she isn't getting any moist cake or moist action. She’s after womanly company, but she's all lonely." Jess said, slightly leaning back and testing the needles, wincing as they pricked him, Taylor saw a few of the sliver pins move back just in case.

Sabah’s hands begin reaching for something to throw, her eye twitching, needles rattling.

"Ah don't worry…” Jess began before Taylor coolly pointed the Keyblade at him, pushing his attention away from Sabah to her.

"I'm going out anyway, I'll buy her cake, and I am woman, I am her companion. She's got me so she won't be lonely." Taylor said, standing firm, feeling in control of the situation.

Jess's mouth dropped open and Sabah put a hand to her face.

The silence stretched out as they both continued staring at her. Taylor felt like she was missing something here.

Sabah silently made a ‘zip-it’ motion at Jess as he began to choke.

Taylor watched the man begin to make faces of pain as he struggled to breath, the needles pressing closer.

Loud, obnoxious, laughter began to bubbling up from his chest as he struggled not to move.

Taylor stood there stone faced until he stood straight again and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Holy fucking shit, that was sore." Then he was lost in another bout of laughter as Sabah stormed forward, her face red.

Taylor didn't like his tone, nor what he seemed to be implying. Not at all.

She was no comedian.

Taylor continued glaring at Jess even as he laughed.

Then she saw the stiletto heels on his feet and felt curious, that turned to annoyance, then to anger.

Jess stopped laughing when the Keyblade smacked him across the mouth, thankfully it didn’t cut him like it did everything else. So, she was right, it wasn’t just Shadow Stalker. The Keyblade cut what she wanted it too and that meant…

She looked down on the man in heels who was looking back at her in shock. The needles floating around him. Then everyone looked at the plate that had flown out from where the Keyblade impacted his skin and crashed to the floor, it was Sabah's. Jess turned, indignation on his face when Taylor hit him again.

Good reflexes where only good when you weren't in a heap on the floor it seemed. A knife this time flew out and clattered on the vinyl.

Sabah just stared in shock unprepared for the scene. Jess rolled and stood, hands up in a gesture of surrender, trying to get Taylor to stop hitting him.

Taylor just growled at him.

"The first was for cutting Sabah's cheek, the second one was for laughing at me." Taylor said tightly.

Jess examined the plate and looked towards Sabah's and the knife at her feet in surprise.

"You... knocked those out my bag." He said numbly.

Taylor gritted her teeth, her lip curling in a snarl.

"I'll knock more out next time if you ever pull this crap again. I might do it anyway, I have a really big headache, and hitting you makes me feel better." Taylor said, temper exploding, advancing a step. She stopped though as Sabah laid a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Coil. It was a guy called Coil, who hired me, that's all I know about him and this job. Can I fucking go now? I mean, legally speaking, kidnapping and holding me hostage is worse than home invasion." Circus said with little emotion. The fun and games had finally ended it seemed.

Sabah had paused and then nodded. The needles floating in front of Taylor and her like a shield. Taylor shook her head, and opened her mouth to argue when her headache flared up. Wincing, she bent over clutching her skull.

"Taylor, you can't fight like this, let him go. We can talk later, about what to do, but for now... just let him go, he's nothing." Sabah said, her eyes also on the knife.

Jess nodded.

"I only wanted to stay long enough to make sure I hadn't fucking killed you. I dunno what happened, but my head had been thumping all fucking night. " He said, sounding generally uncaring if the fact of her death turned out to be true. He walked to the front door and looked back.

"I'm not going to tell you to keep quiet about this shit, you'll do it because if you go to the villains, they'll ask if you know my identity and since neither of you can lie for shit, they'll call it even after I went through the effort of making it up to you. If not, I'll vanish and you two will be murderers by association. If you go to the heroes, then you'll have to fucking unmask too, and if you don't then you can't share the details, if you can't share details, then you'll be charged with holding back information on your own crime. Parian here, is in E88 land and she is a big juicy target, so don't be doing anything stupid. Welcome to the game girls."

Then he was gone.

Chapter Text

Jess Quinn, her chosen name out of a hat for the year, decided that she would need to have some sharp words with Coil when she finally left the basement studio that had become her fuck up of the year, so far.

Jess had taken the job with a pretty good feeling.

Tinker lab, basement, giant key, steal.

Easy as fucking pie.

Except it wasn't. It wasn't pie by any stretch of the fucking imagination, the lack of security was the first tip off that something was wrong. Keynote, partnered with Parian, was suspected of being a tinker with a melee weapon talent. Tinkers can do some pretty extreme stuff to work their specialty into traps and virtually every Tinker’s lab made a fucking minefield look bloody safe.

Like, Jess had once heard about a guy with a size changing specialty. Giant spiders were suddenly a very real thing. The damn fool tried to become a giant during a hero invasion of his lab and exploded out of his fucking skin.

But here, there were no traps. Jess could see nothing, no obvious mounds in the earth, no blinking lights of a camera, no trip wires, no external power sources for any of the nastier options. She’d even checked the fucking roof and nothing, nada, zip. There wasn’t even an alarm on the fucking front door! There weren’t any traps anywhere! So Jess went for a window, it may have been cliché but she was tired of the night already. Circus, the thief of Brockton Bay, had spent two miserable hours circling the building for fucking nothing. Not even a goddamn silent alarm. It was too easy, too simple.

The lack of machines should have been her second big tip off that something was fucking wrong, but the door number matched, the street was correct and Coil never fucked up. So she carried on, certain this was the place and…

Then she saw the kid, Keynote, had to be.

Unmasked.

Mistake number two. Huge fucking mistake.

Panicking slightly, Jess spotted the Keyblade and moved. Focus on the job, nothing else matters. She just had to get the weapon, steal it, own it, make it hers.

Then things got sort of... fucking messy after that.

The girl was fast, fucking nearly impaled her a few times, the eye was thankfully making her aim pretty shit.

Keynote, Taylor from what the other girl had screamed, had passed out. Keynote’s weapon, the Keyblade, had gone into her bag when Jess had finally had enough of the whole fucking scene. Usually she liked to run with her prize in hand admiring it, holding it, hell, even caressing it. Somehow, having her prize right there in her hand made it more real. It was a rush even better than fucking swearing; that thrill of freshly stolen goods resting in her hand. Hot property was just so fucking hot! But that had gone wrong too when the Keyblade had ripped out of her like a fucking bullet in reverse.

That had never fucking happened before. The feeling still made her head thump violently.

Still what ever happened to Jess, had happened double to Taylor as the younger girl passed out instantly, eyes rolling up and head snapping back like someone had kicked her in the brain.

So she ran. Jess fucking ran as fast as she could with the Keyblade now in hand, but it just vanished again. Suspecting Keynote was back up she rushed back, to apologize or knock her out, she wasn't fucking sure which.

Mistake number goddamn fucking three.

Parian had eventually worked herself free of the cloth and spotted Jess standing over Taylor, who looked dead. It did look fucking bad really, thinking back on it.

Then Jess flinched as a scream that sounded like something she’d only heard from the Teeth, primal, wild, and angry ripped from Parian's throat. The noise surprised Jess as she had the other girl pegged as meek, just backup for Keynote who seemed to be their power house.

When she grabbed a hold of Jess's sleeve, Jess was already preparing to knock her aside, when her whole costume rippled violently.

Jess had watched stunned as the whole front of her costume had bulged and then fucking exploded. It felt like someone had fucking smashed her with her own sledge hammer, she’d swear she felt a rib crack and shit did it fucking hurt afterwards. Jess lost a few minutes of memory there, or maybe more, she wasn’t sure.

Still, Parian could explode shit. Duly noted.

When Jess was confident that the room was real and not some fucking hallucination, she staggered upright and heard Parian speaking to someone... Meg? Who the fuck was Meg?

Looking around for an escape route, Jess saw Keynote was back on the fucking couch, looking peaceful. Lucky for some.

Looking down she spotted bare skin peeking out, her smooth chest and flat stomach exposed to a pissed off girl who could explode her and to passed out ninja key girl.

Inspecting herself whilst Parian was occupied, Jess examined her exposed ribs, prodding them as they were starting to turn a nasty blue and hissed as her body shouted it’s protest. She prodded them again, wincing at pain. Luckily none felt broken, but Jesus fuck did they hurt. Still, if none were broken she could run and if she could run then she could get away. Looking back Jess saw Parian had her head stuck through a door, talking to Meg who was probably on a phone, maybe in the other room, who fucking knew? Still, the other girl was distracted so time to fucking leave.

Jess has taken two steps when lots of fabric fell upon her, smothering her a bit. It was pushing down on her, making her bruised chest ache.

Reflexively and stupidly, she sucked all of it into her bag.

The fresh air, as it was, made her feel better, but the scope of the situation wasn't clear until a giant mouse stepped on her.

Hard. Jess's ribs ran a complaint to her brain that they were in fucking agony. Her brains response was 'no shit Sherlock'.

The mouse raised its leg again and Jess tried to send it away to her space. The mouse rippled and then it tore into two. Raining fluff down over them.

Jess felt the disemboweled mouse's legs appear in her bag.

So, Parian could explode her, squish her, and interfere with her fucking powers?

Lovely.

What would Jesus do in her shoes? Jess asked, her mind rattled.

Turn shit to wine and get wasted. Not a fucking option sadly.

What would Coil do?

So a little bit later, after surrendering, Jess found herself in the kitchen, returning things that belonged to Parian. Bloated as she was Jess still fucking hated giving it back, even if she didn’t have much use for it.

Worse, Jess had needed to curb her language as Parian showed her a mannequin turned into a pin cushion from top to bottom, in perfect symmetrical lines of sharp little sewing needles. In five fucking seconds.

Then she’d felt the nudges behind her and then saw the needles circle her slowly.

Parian had used the distraction of her demonstration on the mannequin to get them into position.

Crafty bitch.

"So... what now?" Jess asked the dark skinned girl, cocking her head sharply. A needle floating around Jess's head trembled suddenly at her movement and then continued to float slowly.

So… Sudden moves upset the needles? Good to know.

Parian stared at her. Jess's paint was still on, her cap a sad looking thing, but the jeans and shirt ruined the effect really.

"Now, you tell me what you wanted with Ta-Keynote." Parian responded with a hint of steel. She looked calm, but all the needles were quivering slightly.

"Nothing, well nothing personal. I was hired to steal her fu- um, sword." Jess said, biting back her swear.

Swearing was like smoking to her. The more she swore, the better she felt, but it didn't work in her head. She’d tried. It’d failed. Now she had too and this whole ‘watching her language’ shit was getting old real fast.

But those needles looked sharp.

"Why?" Parian snapped, her lip curling.

The rising sun streaming through the window behind Jess allowed her to see the other girl’s red rimmed eyes. Oh yeah, Parian was fucking pissed as shit and tired to boot. Jess slowly shrugged, trying not to move too fast in case Parian had fucking itchy needle work. Needle fingers? Fucking something like that.

"I was hired, so I don't fudging know, this job was fudging weird from the get go." Jess said, trying a safe substitute for her favorite word. It didn't make her feel better, it lacked the fucking bite she needed.

Still, Jess could see why the other girl wanted to bloody know. She had some fucking questions herself. Coil hadn't told her everything, far from it, but she had fucking expected that.

In her experience, there were three fucking kinds of villains that held territory.

First were the Power Houses, one’s that ruled with and for power. They'd be your Lungs and Kaisers, even the Butcher when she’d worked up in Boston.

Second were the Unrootables, groups or people that fucking got stuck in like a dick in a rubber, like the scum stuck at the bottom of the gutter no fucking amount of hosing got fucking rid of. They clung to whatever they could fucking get their hands on. Just one trick pony’s or sheer numbers letting them fucking cling on instead of fucking brilliant skill or power to dodge the pigs and tin men. Merchants were a prime fucking example of that kind of shit.

The third was the Masterminds, they weren't always the smartest or the most powerful or even the fucking cleverest… Though they were usually Tinkers or fucking Thinkers. Didn’t mean shit though with some of the Thinkers she’d met, with them common sense was a fucking super power and it was one they didn’t have. And the less said about fucking Blasto the better. Still, Masterminds, they had a plan, a long term one even and nobody would ever fucking figure it out. Mostly because they were insane and it was smart not to try and puzzle out their fucking troll logic. Masterminds looked at everything and just saw fucking numbers, chances, value and potential.

Coil was a Mastermind and fucking slimy one too. He was definitely a man with a plan, though what fucking for Jess had no fucking clue. He had hired Jess for this contract with a lot of money. Too much really. It spoke of deep fucking pockets if Coil could splash 150K on a simple fucking theft… Okay, maybe not so fucking simple but she doubted Coil had known that. More though, what really said he was a planner… When he’d put her on retainer a month back. 5K a month to obey some simple fucking rules and take any jobs he asked? She should have known it was too fucking good to be fucking true.

Still, Coil’s rules had been simple: stay quiet, never join anyone, and never draw attention.

Basically the asshole didn’t want anyone connecting Coil to Circus or the crimes she committed.

Until tonight, Jess had been doing pretty fucking great.

Then, well, Jess had fucked up. She’d fucked up hard. But it was mostly Coil's fault. He and his 'Destiny Control’ were supposed to back her up and the fucker had failed. He’d let her fail. So fucking much for ‘I never lose’ Coil.

Jess doubted she’d have a job with Coil after this. Assholes like him and Accord took a pretty dim view of failure. A fucking terminal one. So what could Jess fucking do that would let her get away from Miss Needle stabby time and get some leverage against Coil to keep flowers for her button hole instead of her pushing the fuckers up?

"Then, who?" Parian said, her teeth gritted tightly.

Jess snapped back to Parian. That… that was a bad fucking question. One Jess really didn't want to answer.

Given how he’d fucked up, Jess doubted Coil had any real power, maybe some kind of shitty pre-cog but nothing that could hurt her. But that's why he had an army of beefy men with fucking laser guns to shoot her.

"I can't tell you that, my fucking life would be over as soon as I did." Jess said bluntly, her mouth twisting into sneer.

Parian's eye started twitching as she walked back and fourth.

Jess felt and saw every needle tilt slightly as Parian moved, they followed her direction as if she was a magnet.

"You broke into our home, unmasked us, attacked us, did something to my friend and you think you're safer here?" Parian stopped pacing, turning so her eyes could bore into Jess's.

Jess couldn't really argue, it sounded fucking stupid but… Coil was a killer, a ruthless asshole who’d make her fucking disappear. Parian though was a civilian at best, one who had never had to lay out a body out or go to a funeral, at least Jess hoped. The dress maker wasn’t someone who’d bury her, so she was a much more fucking attractive option than Coil right now. Especially with a fucking healer on tap. Jess couldn’t help but chuckle. Fucking grab bag capes, even if Jess didn’t have much room to talk at least she wasn’t some healer blaster striker bullshit. Bitch had almost offed her with whatever the fuck that icy shit had been, not to mention the bloody sword that Jess was coming to suspect was a projection. More, a fucking healer, those were as rare as finding a fucking gold nugget in a whore’s purse.

So between Coil and Parian, Jess had a choice. Who would be safer? Coil’s probably non-existent mercy or Parian’s anger and whatever shit she had to take from Keynote when the bitch woke up. On a roll of the dice, Jess would bet on Parian and Keynote’s number coming up every time over fucking Coil.

But if Parian turned out to be a maniac killer, one like that mad fucker, what was his name… Yeah, fucking Skinslip. Slaughterhouse bastard. So, if Parian turned out to be some psycho who used the skin of her victims to make pretty dresses, then Jess was going to be feeling real fucking stupid. Not that it was fucking likely but Jess had encountered stranger things.

Fucking Blasto.

"I do. I really think I am. First of all, I didn't know you fuc-dging were here. I thought this was Tinker basement lab or some shit-ake, second, I didn't unmask you. I found her unmasked, the Keyblade in her hand did all the fudging unmasking for me. Thirdly, I tried to run, but it didn't work all that bloody well." Jess said, each defense nothing but a smoke screen.

Well, not just a smoke screen. They were all true, but Jess couldn't let herself believe them fully. Neither could Parian evidently.

"None of that matters, since none of that would have happened if you hadn't broken into my home. And you didn't run until you stole the Keyblade, so that excuse is quite frankly vapid." Parian said, her lip still curling as she pointed at Jess accusingly.

"If I knew you fuck… fudging lived here, do you think I would have broken in? And don't give me that 'stealing is bad' crap, I don't feel bad about it, I don't take stupid risks. We both know the rules." Jess said, feeling her temper rise just a little, did Parian think she was an idiot?

"If you just turned around and never mentioned it again, then maybe it could have been ignored or something. But you didn't. You kept trying to steal the Keyblade, so the rules aren't going to save you." Parian huffed, blowing some of her frazzled hair out of her face while her eyes glared at Jess.

Jess felt her mouth go thin.

Parian was right. Jess had broken the fucking unwritten rules, paper thin though they really were, more like guidelines in practice. After all, Coil had their fucking address.

Still, excuses didn't mean shit to the people who had everything to lose if they were made public. Parian was a colored girl living at the edge of the Empire’s territory, not high on the Nazi’s priorities. If it was known she was Parian though… Well, either Brockton Bay would be down a Rogue or more likely Parian would be forced to move. Jess though… Circus. Ha! Circus would be dead.

Kaiser, the metal King, would skewer her on the fucking spot if he knew how badly Jess had screwed the pooch tonight. Kaiser might have been a fucking Nazi but he stuck to the unwritten rules like a fucking religion and killed anyone who didn’t. He was someone important, everyone knew it. Kaiser couldn’t afford people to start breaking the rules… So he killed anyone who did.

Jess’ mind raced as images of her own crucified body and hole ridden corpse flashed through her mind. There had to be to be a fucking way out of this. Jess pursed her lips, bushing her brain to come up with an idea.

Could she kill Parian and Keynote? Organic flesh wouldn't go into her hammer space, too much work, too much cost, to herself.

Jess knew she was a fucking messed up person, her head not screwed on right, but she didn't like killing kids, or killing in general really. Strip em’ of everything not nailed down, then steal the nails and take the rest, yeah. Leave them poorer than dirt, fuck yeah. But not dead. Killing was just… It wasn’t her thing.

Hmm, could she bribe them? They were Rogue’s after all and most of them fucking loved money. Jess took one look at Parian and discarded that plan, the telekinetic was far too emotional to accept something like that, at least right now.

Beg? No. Never.

Mutual destruction? That was... possible.

"You're right. I did... something fuc-fudge-fucking stupid. But you need to understand that, even if I unmasked you, it doesn't benefit me. You think I’m going to tell everyone? That I’m going to blab that the great Shirley Temple, Parian is a middle eastern clothes savant? You think Kaiser will appreciate that? You think I'm going to casually tell Lung that Keynote is a young white girl? Give me a break, that is suicide. Kaiser would bloody crucify me before I could even finish getting the fucking words out. Outing people is stupid and I’m not stupid."

"I mean, he might still use the information, but I would be frigging dead." Jess added, as an afterthought.

Villains liked the comfort masks offered them, but it didn't mean they wouldn’t fucking ignore a meaty piece of information, just cause Jess wasn't suicidal, doesn't mean there wasn't a fucking cape wannabe or some shit for brains, who would try to use the information.

Parian paused, her eyes moving quickly as she debated internally .

"So, what? I'm just supposed to believe the crazy clown when she says that I have nothing to worry about? If you didn't know about us, but the person who sent you did, then that means there is now two people that I wouldn't trust with my garbage that have our identities. Do you know what will happen if you let that slip?" She asked, her lip curling as she stared into her eyes, fist balled.

"I fucking-"

The needles all began to vibrate around her. Fucking hell, Parian was sensitive.

"I fudging know. If I out you, ignoring what happens to friggin’ me, you get a huge target on your back. The E88 will flay you alive; PRT will suddenly be more interested in your business, sticking their noses into where they ain’t fudging wanted, not that they can do much if you don't give them any rope to hang you with. Worse, some fu-dger like Accord might try and kidnap and sell ya’. Point is, I know, but I'm not going to talk. ‘Cause no matter what ship happens to you, I end up friggin’ dead, or joining you as a slave. And ya’ know what? I like living and bein’ free and… stuff. So, instead I want to make things fair, even the fudging field." Jess said, grinding her teeth at the lack of goddamn. Mother-fucking. Swearing!

Immediately Parian was on alert, her tired eyes narrowed in suspiscion.

"Explain." Parian ordered.

Jess could have, but she was feeling a little bit strung out and mean.

Jess was aware of everything that touched her skin, that was bigger than a marble. It was the effect of her power, the power to store things didn't seem great in the Cape power lottery, but over time she had come to like it a lot.

For example, anything she put away was kept safe in a bubble or something pretty fucking close, and the bubble froze things in time. So, if she sent a hot plate of food in, as long as it wasn't meat, she got to have it fucking hot whenever she pulled the shit out. That was fucking sweet in her opinion, hot food whenever she fucking well felt like it.

The best thing though, was that her costume was so fucking easily applied, ignoring the first year where she kept fucking trying to put the shoes on her head and cap on her foot. The bells helped keep track of her costume in the huge fucking clutter that was her hammer space, more often then not.

Jess loved things. Other people's things were even nicer. Somewhere in the space was an old doll. It belonged to that up start bitch across the street. That bitch always had new bikes, new clothes, holidays, the pretty fucking jewelry and yet, she never traded in the doll, a ratty old thing, but now it was Jess'. Jess didn't know why she had the old fucking thing. It reminded her, she guessed, of how far she’d fucking come.

Or how far she’d fallen.

Back in the doll girls kitchen, she felt around her head with her mind, the paint would go as one, as long as the paint was all touching correctly, there was always spots she missed, but in her mind she felt the paint connect with her skin and then like a gate way, fall into her space. Her bare skin on view, the cap quickly followed.

She placed both bubbles near the top of the pile, easy to reach; she never got to see the space where they went, only slightly feel it.

It felt fucking hot.

So here she was, Jess the Jester, unmasked and Parian's mouth was open.

"Ta da." Jess said dryly. Parian closed her mouth, opened it, closed it again, it opened one more time and finally spoke.

"Are you crazy?" She asked, her voice practically squeaking from how the pitch was.

Jess shrugged, a half grin hiding her fear.

"Quite fucking possibly."

"Why… Why did you do that?" Parian asked, still shocked.

Jess lips turned up slightly, her grin stretching.

"To make it fair, MAD right?" Jess said, fucking amused at her own joke.

"Mad? Of course it’s mad you psy… Wait, you mean MAD? Like, Cold War MAD? Mutually Assured Destruction? You think this somehow makes it fair? That I know your face so…"

"Jess Quinn, age 22, current address is 7/13 Black Garden street. There, you can send your friend to check when she fudging wakes up, but now... We're even on that front. Friggin’ still owe you a coffee table and a door, and something else to make up for what I did to your healer friend." Jess said, thinking hard on it.

"What... why did you... stop saying things! And don't tell people about that either. Who hired you?" Parian, a bit fucking overwhelmed, said.

Jess raised a brow. Girl was fucking amusing when she got flustered. Heh, she’d have to fucking needle her more… Wait, bad word choice there.

"Shut up and speak? You wan’na retry that?" She teased, testing the fucking waters on how far exactly the Rogue was gone, since she was obviously in a pretty emotional, and therefore fucking dangerous, state.

"Speak." She replied tersely, her jaw clenching.

Jess mentally sighed in relief. The girl was willing to listen and hopefully let it slide.

Could only bode fucking well.

"I can't tell you, exactly. The guy has fudging assassins and scary as ship people working for him, but what if I dropped him a call?" Jess said, sounding as helpful as she could manage.

Coil would need the fucking report one way or the other, and if it got her ass out the frying pan doing so, well, then all the fucking sweeter. Jess watched as Parian bit her lip, the cons playing in her mind, the pro's tempting.

"I want you to tell them it's off, the job, you saw it yourself. The Keyblade is unstealable, tell them... tell them that you're returning any fee you got." Parian said, getting her confidence going.

Good, if Jess could make her think she was in control, and who was she kidding, the girl fucking was, then it was less likely to be needle stabby time.

"Okay, anything else? World peace? Egg Mcmuffin?" Jess said, her phone appearing in her hand, the instant the phone reconnected to the internet and reset it’s time to match the real world, it lit up with various emails, calls and one text.

Parian didn't reply, her mouth in a thin line.

"Report - WS"

Jess rolled her eyes at Coil's spy kink, code names here, secret bases there and god knows what else. Fucker seemed to think he was bloody Ernst Blofeld with all the cloak and dagger shit. Still, his ‘code name’ was fucking hilarious for this mission, 'White Snake', as if that would be given by anyone other than fucking Coil. Like she said, Thinkers were fucking dumb. Now Jess would have went for something much more unique and fucking fun; COM, Circus on Mobile, or BBS, Bad Booty Shaking or even DDD.

Dangerous Dancing Death.

Trust Coil to be boring with his fucking code names though. Fucker.

Bringing her focus back to the situation at hand, Jess opened her phone and dialed, the number could only be called once, so Coil better be fucking awake.

"Report." Coiled answered, his tone clipped, revealing nothing. How much did he know already? How much could Jess get away with on both ends of this call? One wrong word could mean needles in the eye, or shot in the head later.

Time to find out.

"Hey, boss, so the thing went belly up." Jess said cheerfully, feeling her gut harden in response to the creep’s voice. There was a pause and then he spoke, his voice now honey coated. Fucking. Creep.

"Am I to suspect you are making this call under duress? Are you compromised?" He said, sounding only a tad bit more interested. Jess wanted to swear at him, she had quite a few fuckingfucks saved up. Problem was though, bastard was even worse than Miss Prissy Lizzy Lezzy for making her watch her language. Fucker had threatened to shoot her when she sworn one too many times for his fucking taste.

What made it hard for Jess to keep her grin though, even more than biting her tongue on the fucks, was that Coil loved these things. Like playing speed chess, trying to see if he could come out on top against some other player. Never with himself at risk of course, Coil liked gambling other people’s lives, but that was details really. Jess knew what kind of people employed thieves. Part of the fucking job.

"Well, I'm not in any immediate danger, but that's not why I called. Your info was f- faulty and this job is a bust. The Keyblade is not leaving its owner, and trust me f- I tried. The other thing is I'm quitting this job." She said that last part a bit quickly for her own liking. Parian nodded, more to herself, at Jess's words, clearly liking them.

Coil voice slowed a little, becoming more... dangerous.

"The job or this job." He asked, enunciating his words carefully.

"I said I was quitting this job, you need to pick up your signal." Jess said rudely, covering for her double answer. Coil was silent for a few moments, then he spoke with far more confidence than before.

Something had changed.

"Very well, do what you can to get out and report back to me. If you aren't here within 12 hours, I'll cut you loose. You may use my name if you need to, just don't let them know more than that." There was a click the fucking dial tone was ringing in her ear and then a nice robot lady said that the number was no longer fucking available.

Jess felt the weight of Coil's name make her heavier, not lighter. To fucking give away any information… It went against everything she knew of the megalomaniac. More, well, it was bad for Jess’ reputation, giving up her employer. Jess would if she had to but she’d rather avoid it if possible.

Still, this was a huge risk on Coil’s part, letting two Rogue’s know a Villain had targeted them. What was he thinking? The fucking snake had had his entire operation run through six different loops and he was just causally dropping his name here? Did he really think so fucking little of the two rogues? Sure, Jess knew that they weren't big time names, neither really seeming to have the power, though Jess was beginning to doubt that part, or the ambition to make it to the big time. But it only took one fucking rock to trip you up and make your whole fucking house of cards collapse.

Whatever, if Coil sank his whole gig down in concrete shoes because he’d fucked up and made her fuck up, then Jess Quinn would cease to exist. She would become a Harley, or Alice, or maybe even Lola.

Hell, she might even become a he rather than a good mix like now or the girl’s she’d previously used.

The point was that, Jess wasn't fucking real. Coil thought he had his hooks dug into her, but really, he’d caught nothing more than a paper thin disguise. One bad move and she’d deflate and drift.

You could get pretty fucking far when you carried everything important inside you.

It was a shame. She was liking Jess a lot. It was fucking unfair, she just got a house plant for the first time in forever. Plant's never seemed right after she spaced them.

"Are you happy now? I did what you asked, now I'm risking a bullet when I step outside." Jess snarled, slamming the phone down on the counter making the girl jump.

Good.

"A little." Parian said, her eyes becoming alert at Jess' show of temper.

"Sorry, that guy just gives the fucking creeps." Jess admitted as she leaned slightly into the counter to take the weight off her feet.

"Then why do you work for him?" Parian asked, sounding as uninterested as she could.

Jess shrugged, her eyes glazing slightly as she looked out at the rising sun.

She needed sleep, a good whole days’ worth of sleep.

Some fucking painkillers for her headache wouldn't be amiss either.

"Who else? Kaiser? Lung? Uber and Leet? Just a matter of the guy having the least amount of clauses to the contract. He has his own thing in mind, doesn't really care about gang wars or people. So it seemed easy, but the guy is a nut. Thinks he’s a real life James Bond villain, you know? Secret bases, Code Names. All that shit." Jess said, her finger spinning at her temple. Trying to see how far Parian's gang knowledge went, someone who was involved and knew the workings would able to narrow Jess's employer down to Coil, or even Faultline's crew.

"Sounds like someone who would drop you in case like this." Parian noted, her eyes on the cracked screen of her phone.

Jess nodded.

"It's always risk versus reward with those types. The moment I become a risk, I lose the reward. But... now what?" She asked, Parian shifted and spoke softly.

"I don't know, I was going to call the police. Still might. Thankfully you missed my landline." Parian's eyes trailed over the mess of the room and her eyes seem to focus on something, there was a few seconds of silence, which made Jess itchy, then Jess saw little pieces slowly pick themselves up and float over into one single pile. Wood chips, fluff and so on, slowly picking themselves up in an expanding circle from Parian.

"You could. But you haven't so far. Why?" Jess asked the girl with the thousand needles.

Parian paused, and then slowly spoke, voicing her thoughts.

"I was about to when you unmasked. Now if I call them, in a way that is total bullshit I could be breaking the rules like you. Hmm, if I don't mention you being Circus then it could work..." She said.

Jess shook her head, chuckling.

"My prints are all over the country. They get a match, fresh from the source? Then they’ll know they have Circus. Then it’s all routine from there. They inform the PRT, since a cape is involved with a crime, and the PRT take the fuc-fudging case. They get me, outed thanks to you, and then they’ll investigate you two. You know, barge in here and turn up the mattresses all that shipping." Jess said airily.

Parian’s frowned, looking skeptical.

"I think you have the PRT confused with the FBI. The PRT wouldn't barge in here." Parian said, amused at Jess's logic.

Jess had to gawk at her, which in turn made the smile drop from Parian's face.

"What?" Parian asked hesitantly.

Jess sighed, a disbelieving smile stretching her face. How fucking naive were these two?

"If they know I am Circus, through no fault of you own, then they have my profile. I don't do petty theft, I aim f-grrhigh. This place is your home, not an art gallery or a bank. Why would I fudging come here? Then someone suggests 'Tinker tech' or 'drugs’, 'secret villain lair dispute settled with mud wrestling' well maybe not that last one, but you get the picture." Jess said, stretching.

Parian shook her head.

"But why would they just come in? They’d need warrants." Parian said stubbornly.

Jess shrugged.

"Would you risk it? People just showing up, confiscating anything deemed ‘dangerous’ or ‘evidence’? A Keyblade perhaps? Or anything else you f- got hidden here?"

Jess saw the girls face go ashen.

The pretty doll girl had something hidden in her closet eh? Well, besides herself if Keynote’s reactions were any fucking clue. Still, hidden secrets? Another time Jess wouldn't mind taking a peek. Right now? Not a fucking option, sadly.

"That’s a fudging yes then. So if the PRT come, then what or whoever you're hiding will be taken away. You make clothes, that doesn't give you a lot of wriggle room in any legal defense. Rogue’s being, you know, fudging frowned on pretty hard when they get caught doing illegal ship."

Jess pointed out to the the other girl. The look of being stuck in a bad place was pretty clear on her face, she almost looked ready to scream or cry.

Jess really hoped she didn't cry, she was no good with crying people. All those fluids, her shirt getting soaked, getting wet...

Jess's mind told her to cut the outburst off, her mouth evidently agreed, but somewhere along the way message between them got fucking hijacked, her words going from cheery to slightly comforting.

"Hey, but what do I know, I’m a f- evil villain remember? I'm sure the PRT would respect your sanctity and all that s-jazz. I just have no fmmm reason to think so due to experience. But then, you don't have a rap sheet or any of that ship. Not even anything that came out a f- tinkers lab right, and girlie over there can just hide the Key, yeah? So guess you would be fine. They arrest me, I get bailed by the boss for my first strike, thefts are surprisingly cheap law wise and we all go our own ways." Jess said, pretty impressed with herself, not a single sarcastic word and managing not to swear, even if she’d nearly slipped up on that. But instead of making Parian perk up or feel better, it seemed to have the opposite reaction.

"Where? Where did things go wrong with my life that I need you to try and cheer me up?" Parian said with a tone that just screamed 'why me'. Her eyes trailed over a door in the wall, the bedroom most likely.

"Even if you're lying your ass off, I can't risk having people coming in here. So no police and no PRT, I’ve already had enough bad experiences with them, I’d rather not repeat the joy." Parian said, actually talking to Jess.

Parian’s guard was dropping, not that Jess would act on it with every inch of skin being threatened.

"So, keep me hostage or let me go." Jess concluded out loud.

Parian nodded.

"I'm not keeping you hostage, moral reasons aside, if you know about those, I wouldn't be able to sustain this and work and I really don't see myself throwing my life away to keep you here. But… We both know now that neither of us can act on what happened tonight." The other girl said, her eyes in striking contrast to the rest of her. Jess liked them.

She stole a pair of rings the same shade once.

"Exactly, my boss evidently already knows and everyone else would sooner cut me down where I fudging stand than let me divulge this kind of shit. Too many people have too much too lose if someone starts shooting their mouths off. I like my head where it is." Jess said, running a hand over her chin.

"You could just post it online, nothing to stop you from being petty and doing it just to screw us over once we let you go." Parian said, sounding like she’d thought of this a while back.

"I could, but all it would take is for you to make a statement saying 'Circus leaked it' along with my own name to anywhere and we're back to square one. Besides, like I’d give something away for fudging free. This information is mine. Some wants it; they’ll beat it out of me." Jess said, managing to sound a little closer to her jester persona.

Parian backed up a step, folding her arms. The other girl looked down, her lips pinching as she thought.

"I suppose. So nothing happens if I let you go?" She asked dubiously.

Jess shook her head.

"Sorry sugar, things will and are happening. If someone grabs me and actually tortures me, I will sell you out to save myself, and I expect you to do the same to me." Jess explained as she poked one of the needles hovering in front of her. It didn't budge.

"Well your boss already knows, and I still want to know who the hell he is, but will anyone else guess that you know our identities?" The smaller girl inquired.

Jess shrugged and shot back with her own question.

"Does anyone actually give a crap? You guys aren't exactly the Triumvirate in the making." Jess pointed out and then cut off the girl’s next question.

"I'm about to go into your fridge, don't kill me." She said with a grin. Jess ignored the spluttering behind her and turned slowly, all the needles rotating with her, and opened the white door, letting the cold air rush out.

Salad, pass.
Raw meat, nope.
Ice cream, potential.
Cake.

Oh yes.

"Hey! That's mine, put it back!" Parian screeched, quietly, in indignation at the defilement of her dessert.

With a smile, Jess pulled a fork out of her space and carved a piece of before spearing it. Grinning at the other girls outraged face she popped the chunk of dark, chocolaty looking cake into her mouth.

Hmm, chocolate-whiskey. Not bad, needed cream though.

"I'll pay you back, hell I’ll add it to the damn tab I owe you." Jess said, around the piece of cake.

"You're an ass, and this is how you begin repaying us, payment that I've already told you doesn't even begin to make up for what you did? By eating my cake, my last slice of cake?" Parian said with a dark look, her hands balled into tight fists. Jess paused and then smiled as she spotted a figure approaching in a daze. Time to have some fun, maybe see if she was right and they were both lesbos.

"Well I thought, 'Poor girl has got this really fattening piece of cake and she has no will power, I better fucking eat it before she gets fat,’ so that's what I fucking did. Nice of me, right?" She grinned at the confused look on Parian's face at her sudden shift in language.

"Morning, sunshine. Slept like the dead you did."

Chapter Text

School was an interesting experience these days. Taylor sat in her chair listening about the theory of numbers and how they would affect the rest of her life as she idly doodled Mog on the bottom of the page, his face was a little cartoonish, but at least the pom-pom was looking good.

This week had been different though, mostly because Sophia was gone. Pulled out for ‘personal reasons’ or ‘family matters' depending on who she’d asked. While that was good, the best part was she would likely not be returning for some time. Principle Blackwell had sounded like she was swallowing glass when she announced this at her year level assembly on Wednesday. Who knew she was such a fan of track, Sophia's sport?

In addition to removal of her most physical bully, Sophia’s departure had lead to a sudden power vacuum. Emma and Madison had stuck together the whole of two days before they turned on each other. Emma was, or rather, had been, the next in line to take over. Her friendship with Sophia was coming back to bite her tough, as she currently didn't have much support, as Emma was one of the few people who actually liked Sophia. Everyone else though… Well, Sophia had been a bitch to more people than just Taylor. So, without the fear and dare she say, charisma, Sophia wielded to maintain her place, peoples dislike was finally shining through and much of that was falling onto Emma.

More though, Madison hadn't been slouching during her time as one as Sophia's second in command, and a lot of girls had sided with her out of their dislike of Sophia and pushed Emma out.

Now there were rumors spreading, Taylor suspected started by Madison and her new friends, about Sophia's vanishing act. They ranged from Sophia being murdered, hired by a villain, or taking over a chapter of the Teeth in Boston and so she had no time to continue her education as she was far too busy ruling with an iron fist.

Taylor could see the last one being true, outlandish as it was. Sophia had a real mean streak and was, to be blunt, a heartless bitch. Still, no matter what Sophia was up to, her absence meant that for the first time in forever, Taylor was... forgotten about.

No sticky seat, no homework snatched, and no mean words spoken ever so loudly in the hallways. It was bizarre, school was well, sort of decent. She could go a whole day without being bullied once. Taylor smiled as she finished Mog and began drawing Boco next to him. She felt great really; no teasing, no name calling, no pranking, and best of all… She had friends.

Pausing to tap her pen against her chin, wondering just how you drew birds feet she spied Emma sitting a row forward and across looking miserable, like how Taylor always used to feel. Hmm. It seemed only one of them could be happy at a given time at school. Sucks for her, as it was Taylor's turn for the first time, well, ever.

The thought made Taylor’s smile stretch wider, a little maliciously but she felt justified in enjoying her chief tormentors misery while it lasted. Because, knowing her, Emma wasn't going to be like this for long, she’d start to gather her social power together again, Emma had always been good at making friends, and people would flock to her once more. Then it would be a whole other kind of gang war, filled with nasty words, bitchy attitudes and zero importance.

Emma's Empire vs Madison's Mob. There would be no hair weave left intact.

Taylor struggled to keep her smirk contained, forced to hide her snort as cough, as thoughts of a bald Emma danced through her head.

Still, the things they’d done to her, why still painful… They seemed so little, so trivial now that a crazy clown had broken in and alerted Taylor and Sabah that people were watching.

How much they knew and what they knew was still unknown. The fact anyone knew anything though… It was disturbing, especially when they considered who knew where they lived, and quite possibly their identities.

Coil.

Coil wasn’t a gang leader, but he was a Super-Villain. Unlike Lung or Kaiser who used capes and people in bad places, racists and criminals, Coilemployed people. The mysterious villain employed Mercenaries for help, arming them with the best gear money could buy, including tinker made weapons. He also hired other Villains to do his dirty work. Like Circus, or Jess as he… she? As they called themselves, to steal her Keyblade.

Which meant Jess’ lack of loyalty made sense, sort of. If Taylor was working for someone, it would be a person she liked working for. Like Sabah, who was really easy to like and she liked a lot.

The ringing of the bell snapped Taylor’s attention back to the present and away from her idle drawing. Standing up with the rest of the class as the after school rush began, Taylor followed the crowd out into the halls. It was surreal almost though, that she was not checking for people trying to trip her or preparing herself for being knocked over, or something spilt on her, and left the class, entering the hallways.

As she walked though, Taylor’s thoughts drifted to a far more pressing and concerning topic. A woman had asked to speak to her yesterday after school, confronting her shortly after she arrived home at the studio with Sabah. Social services, the woman in the nice suit was from social services and wanted to talk about to Taylor about her father and her situation. Where was Taylor going to live and who was going to look after her until her father got better?

Taylor had just stared blankly at her, not truly comprehending. Taylor had told quite a few of her father’s co-workers and friends where she was staying and the address, so she supposed it wasn't surprising she had been found and confronted like this.

It was still unwelcome though.

While Taylor struggled to speak, just licking her lips, Sabah had handed the woman some familiar looking papers from a drawer, that made Taylor’s mouth drop open. She recognized them from the day of the bombings and her father’s signature scrawled messily at different places across the forms.

The woman had taken one look at them and her face had gone white. Further canning of the papers let the woman say with a strained voice that she would meet them at the Doll House with the co-managers. The social worker had then promptly backed away and up the steps before she vanished into her small comfy looking car and disappeared.

Taylor had looked at Sabah uncomprehendingly. The older girl had sighed and said it was out of their hands now, and if Circus was going to out her to the PRT, or anyone else, then they better do it fast because it looked like it would have to happen anyway.

Taylor was understandably upset that she would have to unmask to a PRT clerk or worker. This whole Rogue thing just seemed like one oppression after the other. It was almost like the government didn’t want them to be Rogues, like they’d rather they were criminals instead of earning money legally.

It was disconcerting.

Still, Sabah was just a little bit too smug for Taylor's liking when she asked if the doll girl had needed to unmasked when she began the company with Ingrid, her co-manager.

"Strangely enough, the law doesn't require it if you create a company, since you're submitting the tax forms under your own name, but Ingrid took care of all that. Joining an existing company is a lot stricter; supposed to prevent Capes from building teams under a business guise, or something." Sabah had said, giving Taylor a smile she wanted to wipe of the older girls face or… or… She didn’t know what.

Still, thanks to the social worker Taylor would… She would… She would have to unmask, prove she was Portunes if she wanted to stay with Sabah.

This lead Taylor to feeling like she’d had a lead weight sitting in her stomach all day, which was why any distraction was welcome, even musing on Emma’s social life. Making her way out, Taylor blended into the crowd, the crush of people making her feel uncomfortable and nervous. Being able to jump twice your height or roll a street away made tight spaces seem smaller than they actually were and she already hated small spaces thanks to…that place.

So when the student population began to separate at the front door, Taylor breathed a sigh of relief as the feeling of confinement dissipated. To keep herself distracted, she wondered who would head home and who would head off to meet in some secret place, wearing gang colors.

Winslow was a good school once upon a time, back when the Docks were open and ships came in and out as fast as space could be cleared. Rebuilding New York had been the boom that kicked of Brockton Bay’s shipping, as it was closer to the iron mines than Boston and cheaper for the Canadian oil-tankers. With Jobs and booming economy it had been thriving and Winslow may have been the blue collar school but it had been a good one.

Now Winslow was rotten. Just like how the shipping had died, so had Winslow’s quality. As the money ran out and jobs dried up crime seeped in. The gangs and Villains infected the school and were never pushed out.

Villains only got stronger as their numbers grew, as the number of gangsters and gangs rose and persisted in any city. Brockton Bay had become such a city, kids with little to no future, problems in their lives, or even just suffering from boredom, began to see gangs as an option, as a future. Winslow had to accept those kids as they mostly came from the Docks by law that required an education. From what Taylor heard from the student grape vine, the other schools weren't as infested with gang potentials, waiting to be of age. Arcadia in particular seemed to have very low amounts of Nazi tattoo's and Asian's hiding switch blades in their shoes.

Taylor often suspected it was sort of deliberate. Why let them spread out when you can try to contain them all in one place? Still, they she supposed they had to go somewhere, and if anyone deserved a stomach ulcer because of them, it was Blackwell.

Walking through the car park Taylor spotted a spot of brilliant red out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Emma slink into her father’s car. No gaggle of girls to make high pitch noises to see her off, to bid her fond farewells and make Emma feel good. Taylor wondered if her Dad noticed or was just as oblivious as he was about Emma’s bullying.

Turning away before she did something she would regret, Taylor gently let her fists unclench, the Keyblade no longer singing to her, begging to be called. Walking out of the front gate and onto sidewalk, she looked down the road, smiling as she spotted a rust bucket of a car.

Sabah waved from behind the wheel and raised a bag of fast food for her to see.

No, school wasn’t bad anymore. Today wasn’t a bad day at all.

For first time in forever, Taylor was enjoying her life.

"Stop pacing, you're starting to freak me out." Sabah, no, Parian said from the office couch.

Taylor looked over to her and saw the older girl sitting in costume, totally composed with a magazine in hand. Taking a shuddering breath Taylor walked over to stand next to her, looking out the offices third floor window, confident in her hoods darkness to hide her face from anyone who might look up.

Distracting herself from inevitable that was to come, Taylor thought about the Doll House and its structure.

The Doll house had three floors.

On the first floor was the Shop. The sales area and clothing racks took up most of the first floor, with the remaining are given over to a loading dock and some storage for fresh cloth.

The second floor contained the private measuring suites and the main workshop area. There was also storage for the partially completed clothes as they were worked on and rack upon rack of completed clothing.

On the third floor were the offices, Ingrid and Sabah each had their own and there were more for the other roles Taylor assumed you needed to run a business. Accountants probably. There was also the break room and kitchen which took up one whole corner. Next to that was Parian’s own private workshop and, because there was never enough storage, more clothes.

Finishing her listing Taylor turned back around, eye flicking over the office in search of a fresh distraction. Both of them were in full costume for the upcoming meeting, just awaiting the Social worker and PRT employee. Ingrid sat behind her desk typing away at her keyboard, frowning at the screen. They were in the manager’s office, and while it had two desks and was technically both Sabah’s and Ingrid’s office, in reality it belonged solely to Ingrid. This was because Sabah left most of the paper work to the energetic woman while she worked on new clothes or made herself visible down stairs in the Shop, living up to the image of the Doll House having a doll inside.

As Taylor began pacing again, Parian made a disapproving growling sound, causing Taylor to stop. Nervously fidgeting from foot to foot she looked apologetically towards her friend and boss.

"Sorry, I'm just too nervous." Taylor said, finally deciding to just take a seat, slumping heavily onto the worn couch. The idea that she was about to be unmasked and revealed to everyone was... was making her sick to her stomach.

Taylor didn't want to give up being Portunes. The power, the image, the costume. It all made her feel alive like she never had before. The admiring looks from strangers, meeting the Wards and Assault, making friends with Parian and Sabah… It had all been so amazing! She felt good about herself and that her life was finally worth something by helping all these people. And yet Taylor just couldn't shake the thought that if everyone saw who was under the hood, that if they all knew the mysterious Rogue Protunes was just plain old Taylor Hebert, that it would all vanish. That the world would wake up and all her happiness would disappear and fade away like a forgotten dream. That even Sabah would leave, forced to distance herself from Taylor to protect her own identity. That if she was unmasked she would be alone again, unwanted, unloved… She could feel her empty eye sting as she tried not to cry. The idea of returning to that loneliness was more than Taylor could bare.

Quietly Taylor gritted her teeth, struggling to sniff as she struggled not to cry. She hated that woman, the person who was trying to tear her happiness away.

The social worker had quickly become Taylor’s most despised enemy, even more than Circus. In her mind, this woman had come to take her happiness away, to use the law and her ‘legal’ right to mess with her life, interrupt it just when it was starting to get better. That the woman wanted to make her leave Sabah, leave her home, and maybe even leave Brockton Bay if the PRT felt it necessary. At least when Circus upset her life it was a proper villain who she could hate, not this… this legal crap.

"Ke-Portunes, relax. You're going to be fine. The paper work was iron clad, I swear. Besides, I fought way too hard to get you this far, you think I'm going to let some woman in some cheap, ugly, badly repaired, last season dress take you away?" Sabah said, with a highly exaggerated offended tone.

Ingrid seem to find this particular line amusing as her lips burst into a full grin while she typed, even having to stifle a snort.

That wasn’t the important part though.

"You were going to call me Key-" Taylor started to accuse when her voice was cut off as three polite knocks were rapped on the door.

Ingrid look surprised and lifted the phone on her desk to her ear. Why hadn’t any of the staff called to let them know the social worker and PRT representative were here? They should have been stopped on the first floor.

"It's static." Ingrid said simply, though her eyes were wider than normal as the first signs of panic set in. This didn't stop her from going to the door though and opening in with a confident posture.

All three of them stopped at that point and stared at the door.

It was filled by the armored bulk of Armsmaster.

"Hello, I have an appointment to speak with Keynote and Parian." He said, not noticing or ignoring the staring.

Taylor guessed he was used to it.

"It's Portunes." Taylor said on automatic, hearing her voice come out as a soft squeak. This was Armsmaster! She had underwear with his face on it. Taylor was so not ready for this. Where was the Social lady that Taylor was ready to freeze for her perky smile?

Sabah stood slowly.

"Did you block out our electronics?" She asked, holding up her cell phone which was refusing to turn on properly.

Armsmaster nodded, his expression hard to read thanks to his beard.

"I did. I wiped out any microphones and bugs and I am jamming electronic communications as the location is insecure. Your phones will turn back on once you charge them." He said with a straight face. Then he tilted as if listening to something.

"...I apologize for not asking for permission to do so first, I've been told that I'm often act without explaining. I shall add a note about your name to the system later." He said a bit stiffly.

Taylor looked at him, she had seen the hero in TV interviews before, most of them scripted she supposed as he’d sounded more relaxed on TV. Here he almost sounded... uncomfortable?

"It's okay, I mean, I appreciate the effort to keep this meeting, uh, private." Taylor said, gathering her courage together. It wasn't a lot, but a small smile from Armsmaster had her inner child screaming with delight. This was Armsmaster! One of the greatest Heroes in the world!

Sabah just shook her head as the older girl looked at Taylor seeing the way she was clutching her hands together. But Taylor knew Sabah well enough by now to know there was a smile on her friends face behind the mask. Still, Taylor felt her face burn with embarrassment. This was going to cause her so much teasing when they got home.

Not that she minded so much anymore, not when it was Sabah. The older girl made it so that Taylor was smiling as her friend embarrassed her instead of making her feel like crap. Sabah needled her, and said funny things and sometimes tickled her until Taylor was crying from laughing. Instead of feeling bad when she was teased Sabah made her feel… She… She wasn’t quite sure really, but it was warm and she felt better and never wanted to stop it.

"It was no bother, shall we get this meeting started?" Armsmater asked, snapping Taylor out of her thoughts. The armored man walked forward into the room, moving so he stood near where Taylor had earlier, beside the window, but off to one side, just out of view from outside.

Taylor blinked at him and then at the closed door. No one else had knocked or followed Armsmaster in.

"What about Mrs. Terrance?" Sabah inquired politely of Armsmaster.

Taylor didn't know that name.

"Who?" Taylor asked quietly.

Sabah shook her head, amused again.

"You called her 'The home wrecker' and 'Satan's little helper'."

Oh, her. The social worker. Taylor thought if she was getting Armsmaster for her case instead of that woman, then it was totally okay with her.

"The PRT was given the paperwork, names redacted as per regulations, and the social worker was required to sign a non-disclosure form and the PRT took over the process. That is why I am here." He said factually, almost robotically, yet his voice held a trace of warmth. Taylor had the odd feeling he was looking at her when he said that, but the helmet was almost as good as Sabah’s mask for hiding his expression. No emotion from his eyes got through and it was pretty hard to see at his face. His goatee was awesome though.

"I thought capes were the Protectorate?" Taylor asked as she settled back down.

Armsmaster nodded.

"We are, but we report to the PRT, therefore we are part of their command structure. I qualify to fill in for any PRT member excluding the Director." He replied, his words flowing more smoothly the longer he stood there. Taylor thought he didn’t look like shy type of person, but then, she could hardly throw stones.

"So, I need to unmask to you and no one else?" Taylor asked hesitantly. If she had to unmask to Armsmaster, not some office worker… It was a lot better. Taylor felt that Armsmaster was much more likely to keep her secret and maybe… maybe she could keep her happy life.

Armsmaster nodded and then paused. He pulled out a phone and set it down on the table in middle of the room.

"There is one more person, but only because she's been hearing and seeing the exact same things I am as she access to mikes and cameras built into my helmet. Keynote, Parian and other, may I introduce my friend and co-worker, Dragon." Armsmaster said.

Suddenly Ingrid stood and walked towards the door.

"I need coffee, and a cigarette. I’ve had too little caffeine to deal with this. Continue without me, Parian is co-owner, she can do the paper work for once. I do not get paid enough for this." Ingrid said as she closed the door behind her.

The other three occupants of the room were a little stunned and unsure what to say. The pause began to stretch when a female voice came from the phone.

"Hello, Portunes, it's good to meet you, I thought you might appreciate me revealing myself, I have a bad habit of lurking in the background." Dragon said, the phone making her voice sound synthetic.

Taylor felt her inner child from earlier explode into messy confetti. Dragon? The Tinker expert on Tinkers? The woman who built mechs that helped in every Endbringer battle? The greatest Tinker in the world and who’s auto-biography she’d just checked out of the library? Dragon?! In the same room as Taylor Hebert?! Taylor knew that some famous capes hadn't even met the illusive Dragon in voice and yet here she was, talking to her?

Wow.

According to rumor on PHO, no one had seen the cape in the flesh and her PHO thread was strictly moderated by Tin_Mother. Dragon contributed a lot to a variety of areas of research from reverse engineering Tinker-tech to make her trade-mark mecha. The legendary cape also organized rescues at sea, cyber-security for most of Canada and America, participated in and organized the Endbringer battles, and one rumor even had it that shepersonally moderated on PHO, searching to this day for fresh blood to drown in infractions and innocent skulls to crush with her ban-hammer.

No mod worth their salt confirmed anything of course.

Now, here was Dragon, talking like she was peeper, instead of a Hero?

Just… Wow.

"It's a great pleasure to meet you! How did you see through Armsmaster?" Taylor asked enthusiastically, she reined herself in, mortified at her outburst.

Dragon gave a little laugh.

"Trust me, the pleasure is all mine, and Armsmaster has nicely allowed me access to his wireless network that connects several pieces of his arsenal. If you recall, he mentioned having several cameras and microphones installed in his helmet." She said, the 'nicely' said with a little tease behind it.

Armsmaster turned his head and grunted.

Taylor found their interaction fascinating.

Where they friends? Partners? Tinker enthusiasts who get together once in a while? Lovers?

Taylor vowed to not go on PHO tonight, stalking her own thread be damned least she become one of the dreaded…

hippers.

"So now that everyone has been introduced, we should perhaps get on with why we're all here. It won't be long before I'm called away. This city is never quiet for long." Armsmaster said moving to stand with his back to the window, filling the frame with his figure and dimming the light.

"Are you ready? Feel free to take a few moments and collect yourself. Unmasking is a big deal and it's not too late to back out. I would be reprimanded if I didn't at least say the Wards program is set up to prevnt such a situation as this. We protect our young capes identities at all costs and I know they would love to have you. I too would be pleased to serve with you." Armsmaster offered.

Taylor's hands stopped halfway risen towards her hood. She glanced sideways at Sabah who had frozen, sitting completely still next to her on the couch, Sabah’s formerly fidgeting fingers twisted together so tightly Taylor feared they might break.

Taylor thought of what this choice would mean. If she unmasked now, her identity would still be known by the PRT but they would be protecting her instead of hindering. If she chose to join the Wards maybe she would make more friends, Vista and Aegis seemed nice enough and they didn’t like Shadow Stalker. She would be an official Hero, like Alexandria , Armsmaster, and Dragon.

But…

She remembered… Laughing together as they watched movies. Cheering as Boco carried her in a mad rush to school one day when she’d over slept. Mog teaching her about Magic and all she still had to learn. Sabah frowning, tongue stuck out as she tried to make pancakes. Curling up next to the older girl as they both read on the couch. The warmth of being hugged while she cried and the comfort it brought her. That Sabah had been there when no one else had. That Sabah liked her for just being Taylor.

And Taylor realized that Sabah would never betray her. Sabah wasn’t Emma, she no longer had to be afraid. That even if the whole world knew Portunes was Taylor Hebert… Sabah would still be her friend regardless.

"This is your choice, no one else's. No one in this room would think any less of you." Dragon added, startling Taylor from her momentary thoughts.

Taylor didn't even have to think about it really, a few months ago there might have been other answers, different answers, whether for or against, but now… there was only one possible choice.

With a single motion Taylor reached up and grasped her hood, the cloth feeling soft and smooth beneath her fingers.

"I’m afraid I have to decline. I'm happy working with Parian and I'm not going to leave her, not after everything we’ve been through together, but thank you for the offer. Things might change, the future’s uncertain after all so it's good to know that I'd be welcome." Taylor said still hidden but taking deep breaths to prepare herself.

Armsmaster returned her smile, surprising Taylor. She thought maybe he would take her rejection at least a little badly. But he looked… happy. He was happy for her?

Sabah’s hands were shaking, seeing this Taylor reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing. Taylor could only hope her friend knew just how much she appreciated her in this moment.

Because even now, Sabah was letting Taylor choose her own life, she wasn’t making decisions for her or standing in her way. It was an act, a choice that so very few had ever given her, and in doing so, she’d only insured that Taylor wouldn't leave her. True friends didn’t drop each other when newer, shinier ones came alone. She was no Emma. In that moment Taylor swore she would stay true to Sabah, best friends forever.

"I suspected as much. Being a Rogue isn't a bad thing, not everyone is in the right place in their life to be ready for the duties of a Hero. It is a demanding and often thankless job. Sometimes I even forget to take the off the mask after a bad day." Armsmaster said, more to the phone on the table than to her.

Dragon made a noise of agreement.

"I never stop, there are too many things to do and sometimes it can feel like a prison, but when I do help, deliver information in time, warn the right people, prepare the right equipment, save just one more person? It makes me feel alive." Dragon said in a wistful tone.

Taylor wondered who Dragon was. Who was the woman who never stopped trying to save the world? She sounded like a kind soul, she was glad Dragon and Armsmaster were friends. They seemed to understand each other.

"I think... one day I would like to be a hero, I’ve dreamed of it ever since I was little, but… not right now. I have a lot of my plate at the moment. Between being Portunes, a Rogue, a friend, and a daughter I’m really busy, but I’m also learning more about myself every day. I’m so happy being Portunes, but..." Taylor said and pushed her hood back, letting her hair spill out, her eye patch bared to the light, and a soft smile teasing the edges of her mouth.

"I'm starting to like being Taylor Hebert again."

Later that day Taylor stood up on the edge of the Doll House’s roof, a sense of serenity flowing through her.

She had done it; Taylor was now a fully-fledged, legally employed Rogue. It was a lesser status compared to being a Ward, a Hero, but it was something that made Taylor's chest feel light.

The people below her were now under her protection, at least on this street. Taylor smiled as a little girl stared up at her, mouth opened wide and Taylor waved. The girl’s face lit up and she waved back furiously. Taylor smiled, remembering when she too stared at heroes. She remembered thinking how far away they seemed to her, in importance more than distance, how she would imagine being as important, strong, and good as them. And now that she was one, Taylor could only hope she too could inspire some little girl to become a hero.

Taylor could barely believe how much her life had changed in just a couple of months, going from down there on the street, hating her life, where every day was a struggle not to cry… To up here, on the top of the world. It made her see things differently, see people differently.

Not that she was better than people now. It wasn't like that, not at all. Taylor saw that anyone of them could be a cape in the making, stronger than anyone else, faster, smarter, stranger and who knows what else. A woman who looked mundane could trigger and become the second coming of Scion or the next Siberian. All it would take is for one cape to give them hope or despair to change the balance, to tip scale of heroes and villains. All it would take is the right person to save the world or destroy it.

Taylor had thought she knew about potential, but staring down at the endless faces, many looking at her and each with a different expression, some happy, some awed, other suspicious or annoyed, while some were too busy to even look up.

But no matter how they saw her, every person on Earth was as important from up here. It was... terrifying, amazing.

Taylor blinked as she looked up, the night sky lightened with the touch of dusk.

They would be here soon.

Armsmaster had said that a Ward’s patrol would be heading out later and offered to ask them if they would let her tag along, let her learn the ‘do and don't's’ of fighting and defending the city from criminals. The amount of ways to mess up a capture and arrest was staggering. Still, Taylor was just going to beat wrong doers up until they stopped moving after a few vocal warnings, it seemed to cover all the requirements really.

Clockblocker, like Vista was a common name on cape geeks lips. He was powerful striker with the ability to freeze people and objects in relative space-time, shielding them from all outside forces. Some people argued he didn't mess with time, but caused a stasis effect that put a target a in different dimension that kept them safe from any influence of Earth Bet or its surroundings.

Which the smartass reply was 'including time then?'

He was also known for his...

"So you're the new cape on the block, eh? Vista made some key notes about you on the way over. Clockblocker, resident funny guy." Clockblocker said, stepping onto the roof next to her, Vista at his side.

…charming personality. Still his voice conveyed his joking tone, almost comically so, and after putting up with Sabah's teasing, Taylor wasn't so sensitive, in fact she had learned to fight back.

"I guess your clocks aren't the only thing blocked, have you never heard of cotton buds? My name is Portunes." Taylor said, sticking her hand out.

Clockblocker leaned forward eagerly, hand reaching forward when the space between them stretched apart.

"Don't you dare pull that gag on her, and I told you about her name several times. Seriously, do you ever liste-"

"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU FROM OVER HERE!" Clockblocker shouted in the distance.

Vista looked unimpressed and then the stretched space collapsed back to normal and Clockblocker crossed his arms in mock anger.

"You can't just push me away when you're ashamed of me." He said aghast, clutching at his heart.

Vista grinned and turned to Taylor.

"Watch me, don't take too long getting back." Vista said, smirking. Then Clockblocker was suddenly a fair distance away. He waved his arms and yelled something but then dropped them to his side and started to jog towards them.

"Sorry about him, Clockblocker is a great guy, but he thinks puns are the best thing since melted cheese. Head's up, so you don't kill him, he likes to freeze people randomly, the more he does it, the more he likes you." Vista said as she watched Clockblocker run for a few seconds, seeing him build up speed, then snapped the space back to normal. Clockblocker nearly tripped and ended up skidding across the gravel roof top to prevent himself running past them and into the stairwell that lead downstairs.

"Consider me warned." Taylor said amused at Clockblocker's furious arm waving to balance himself as he nearly toppled over when he finally stopped.

"You know it's awfully short of you to tell someone not to pull a gag and then proceed to pull a gag yourself." The white dressed Ward said.

Vista shrugged.

"I'm in a good mood tonight. Speaking of, congratulations on becoming legit Portunes!" Vista said, flashing a thumbs up.

Taylor kicked the roof a little, embarrassed, and grateful to Mog for the darkness hiding her blush.

"It was Parian and Armsmaster mostly, I didn't really do much." She said as Clockblocker ambled back over.

"Don't be modest, Armsmaster spoke a whole two extra sentences about you, that's like, gushing for him." Clockblocker said.

Taylor felt herself blush a little at the thought of Armsmaster talking about her in any degree, she hadn't thought she impressed much during the meeting.

"Well, we should get going, but before we do, Portunes?" Vista said, drawing attention from the two white clad capes. Vista stretched a space next to her.

"Could you wave your sword through there? I need to make sure it doesn't disrupt the space just by being there like it did with Shadow stalker. Could you wave it through the air, avoid the roof itself." Vista asked and stared at the space, stretching it far without making it bigger. The effect distorted the air and made the patch of ground look like a bad zoom in job on Photoshop.

Taylor held one hand out and the warm light filled her.

Clockblocker whistled in appreciation as the Melody of the Lost appeared in Taylor’s hand. She then swung it through the stretched air. The distortion remained and Vista nodded, smiling again.

"That makes things faster and easier. I can help us move in case of trouble without worrying that I might squish someone or leave you behind by accident." Vista said.

Puzzled, Taylor touched the Keyblade to the roof and the space vanished in a noise like a snapping fan.

Vista shivered.

"That felt soooo weird." The green Ward explained as Taylor looked inquisitively at her.

Clockblocker made a noise as he put a finger to his chin and when he spoke, it was a different tone, much more... firm. Serious. Vista noticed and seemed to listen with great care.

"I remember you saying her sword does odd things to Cape's powers." Clockblocker said and then he nodded to Taylor.

"Up for a little experimenting?" He asked, a little of his teasing tone returning to his voice.

Taylor lips twitched as she tried not to rise to the immature joke. She’d swear he was waggling his eyebrows suggestively behind his mask. Clockblocker then took out a sheet of paper the size of a kite and froze it in mid air. Stepping back he stood near Vista and erected a shield out another piece of paper and again, froze it.

"Why are you over there?" Taylor asked Clockblocker, tilting her head in confusion.

"Just in case, so when you're ready." He said with a grin at her tilted head.

Taylor shrugged and pressed the Keyblade to the frozen paper in front of her.

The sound of humming came from the Keyblade as a bright glow appeared where the metal touched paper, then sparks began to fly off and a high pitched whistling streamed out the note holes of Melody.

Then the paper unfroze and caught fire.

Panicking, she let loose a stream of ice that covered the smoldering paper.

Turning she saw Vista and Clockblocker stare at her.

Vista spoke, her tone incredulous.

"Did you just use another power?" The younger girl asked in a high pitch tone.

Clockblocker rubbed at his chin despite his mask.

"I don't really see the connection between giant key and ice, but what do I know? Grab bags are weird, no offense." He said as Taylor rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment.

"None taken, I guess it was weird." Taylor said. She was not going to admit to being taught magic by a little fuzzy, bat-like, fairy with the hankering for dismantling the microwave on a whim. She’d seen what people said about Myrddin on PHO for believing magic. For all she knew Myrddin was right and a fellow magic user. Still, Taylor didn’t want to be mocked or called crazy like he was so she’d keep quiet.

"Can you do anything else, if you don't mind me asking?" Vista said, as she poked the ice and had to yank her finger off with a bit of force as it got stuck.

Taylor innocently twirled the Keyblade as she spoke.

"I can also heal light wounds..." And then a shower green sparks rained over them all in demonstration.

The other two started, stretching for a moment. Taylor knew it felt good to get healed when nothing else was wrong, it left your body feeling refreshed and relaxed, like a really good massage. Though she still didn’t understand why when Sabah’s had complained of having sore feet and Taylor had offered to help she’d looked so disappointed when Taylor had cast cure. It was confusing.

Looking back and forth as the silence began to stretch again Taylor started to wonder if she’d done something wrong.

Then Clockblocker spoke.

"Portunes, grab bags are supposed to grab a few powers out of the bag and run, not grab the bag of powers and keep running while cackling." He said dead pan, but then stood straight.

Vista felt down her leg and her mouth fell open.

"But, please, don't stop on my account. Maybe you could summon fast food next?" He asked hopefully, staring at her Keyblade.

"We are going to be under so many Master/Stranger protocols when we get back..." Vista said numbly.

For all of Taylor's nervousness at being on her first official patrol, nothing actually happened. No fights, no gang wars, not even a mugging. Taylor had thought crime was much more common than that that. TV had lied to her. And, while she didn't want people to be in danger, it would have been nice to see the Wards in action, to see how professional Heroes fought.

Still, the banter between Vista and Clockblocker spoke of a decent amount of time spent together and Taylor could see that despite their joking, they both kept a certain edge about them. Like, they were having fun but prepared to fight at a moment’s notice.

As the patrol continued Taylor saw how the duo of time and space clicked together so well as partners and Taylor almost felt like she was intruding, not that Vista and Clockblocker let her stay quiet for long. Clockblocker's antics made her smile and respond with gusto. Vista made her feel less stressed, sharing some of her early stories, when she just starting out like Taylor was now. There had been one time the blonde girl had stretched a bench out to stop a mugger and accidentally ended up catapulting him a great distance when she snapped space back too soon.

This made Taylor feel a lot better, if Vista, the confident and seemingly unshakeable Vista, was a nervous wreck when she first started then it gave hope to the idea that maybe Taylor would also learn to act in a dignified manner.

Eventually.

When the patrol ended back across the street from the Doll House, Taylor had almost protested at the sudden end to a good night with new friends.

But both the Wards said that they were expected to report back to Director 'Piggot'. Their attitude towards the woman though, seemed... confusing.

"Piggy never lets me get away with anything after I named myself, ‘immature’ was said a few times in her feedback. Though I guess she's not that bad. Like, if I ever need time off for my... well, time off, she's never once given me hassle for it." Clockblocker said as he stared at the PRT building in the distance. It wasn't the most beautiful building, but it had a silent strength about it.

Vista hummed in agreement.

"Piggot is always going on about how ‘dangerous’ my powers are, how I need to use them ‘responsibly’ and all that, but she calls me in once a week or so and we talk about my family- I mean, she makes sure things are okay for me." Vista hastily changed her wording and looked away.

Taylor acted like she hadn't noticed.

"So is she nice or what?" Taylor asked, confused.

The Wards looked at each other.

"She's Piggot." Clockblocker said, as if that explained everything.

Vista nodded and then put a finger to her ear.

"Loud and clear, we're just finishing up, heading back now." Vista said, the most formal Taylor had heard the girl sound that night. It didn't seem right to have a such good spirited person as Vista sound so... stiff.

"Stalker is on the monitors tonight." Clockblocker said casually, leaning back against a ventilation unit.

Taylor for a moment thought that the boy had said Vista had a stalker, then her mind caught up.

"Shadow Stalker? Isn’t she in trouble?" She asked quietly as Vista walked away to keep talking.

"Like I have never seen before. You know they stopped her from using her powers, right? Girl is completely stuck with every rule and limitation they could chuck at her and make stick. She hates it, but I think she appreciates the chance all the same." Clockblocker said, just telling Taylor all these things she thought would have been, well, classified.

"Does she deserve it? Wasn't the Wards her second chance or something? I think that’s what Assault said." Taylor said with curiosity.

Clockblocker shrugged. He really put his all into being expressive Taylor noted, cocking his head, raising both arms, elbows bent, hands flat… All just to shrug.

"It doesn't matter what I think, she's getting this chance from Miss Militia herself. An opportunity like that is once in a life time and not one you can turn down. I respect Miss M. a lot, so I'm going to trust her judgment on this." He said, sounding absolutely serious.

Taylor followed the logic and decided since she didn't know Miss Militia as a person, she couldn't decide if it was a good decision or not. She’d just have to trust the Protectorate member knew what she was doing.

Vista stomped over, her smile long gone.

"The sulky one informed me that we need to head back, Armsmaster and Piggot are waiting for us." Vista said with a sigh.

Clockblocker joined her, shaking his head and shoulders slumping while he let out a heart-felt sigh.

"Joy, oh, joy. Well, catch you later Port, but before we go... you sure you don't want to be Keynote? It sounds cooler." He asked, perking back up to giver her two thumbs up and she knew, she just knew, that he was grinning behind his mask.

Taylor hoped he could feel her disproving stare. She had seen Sabah use it on Mog even with her mask on and wanted to try it. She kept staring, willing him to feel disapproved of. She frowned on his shenanigans!

Clockblocker raised his hands in defense and backed away.

Victory!

Now she could add ‘glare’ to her list of powers.

Vista managed a small smile at their antics.

"Portunes, it's been really good to work with you, keep in touch okay?" She said, her words ringing with resignation as she bid farewell.

Taylor nodded and before she could say anything the Wards were both a building away and then another and then gone, vanished into the night.

Taylor watched them go, feeling the silence that she was so used to before settle over her like a second skin. Now though, it was depressing. She enjoyed the quiet, knowing it wouldn’t be for long until she could hear her friends voices again.

Still, Clockblocker was nicer than she had expected, not nasty like Madison had been. And Vista… Vista was something else, she’d grown to really respect the younger cape. She was really knowledgeable, experienced and had fantastic control over her power. Despite her age, the girl was a veteran and yet despite that, the younger girl just had this likeable aura that made following her commands easy. Well, except when she spoke to Shadow Stalker and Taylor saw the hints of a child still lurking in the back ground of the persona. The petulance and sullenness of youth. Ah to be nearly 16, almost an adult.

But as she turned around, Taylor made a mental note to talk about abruptly leaving her on top of a building with no clear way down. Five stories up and nowhere to go.

Taylor eyed the rust covered hatch set in on corner, or maybe there was. After all, what was the use of having a the ultimate skeleton key if she didn’t use it?

With a flourish, she pointed the Keyblade at the hatch and spoke in a command tone.

"Open!" She said, putting real feeling behind her words. The keyblade glowed and then shot a blue beam out which hit the hatch.

It glowed... and turned to dust, leaving an empty hole behind.

"That's not what I meant!" Taylor said, glaring at the Melody. It just lay in her hand, looking innocent. Taylor narrowed her eye. She didn't believe it for a second.

Sweating, Taylor pulled off the oven mitts and wiped at her brow, admiring her work while Mog talked in the background. School was over for the day and she had come back to the studio to find it empty. Now a few hours later, she had almost finished her task, her mission, her plan to surprise Sabah.

The patrol with the Wards last night had left her motivated.

"I've been thinking on your lack of need for a chant when you cast, kupo, it's really impressive for a new comer to magic." He said snapping Taylor’s focus back to him. She blinked at him then shrugged, turning back to check the recipe book again.

Was it really that impressive? Taylor had never really thought about it.

"I didn't know it was a big deal, I use my feelings to cast, do the words matter?" Taylor asked as she grabbed a mixing bowl.

This was a new territory for her, cooking pasta was more her forte. Still she added the butter to the bowl, diced like the recipe said before putting it into the repaired microwave to melt.

Mog hummed as he thought.

"The chant helps focus your intent and desire so your magic has a clear focus to form from, kupo, but with just feelings alone? That's a rare natural talent; a lot of practitioners struggle to stop saying the names of the spells long after they have need because they needed to for so long, kupo. You have a real knack for magic." Mog praised as Taylor pulled the bowl back out the microwave and bent her head over the bowl, a pleased smile on her face from Mogs praise and seeing the butter had melted nicely.

The other night Taylor had been worried about revealing too much of her abilities, but Sabah had suggest revealing some, cure at the very least. If Taylor ever wanted to walk into a hospital and not be arrested for summoning her Keyblade to heal her father and then be stuck for hours answering questions, then it was best to let people know Taylor could at least heal before the problem arose.

It would also help boost her reputation as a cape. While it may mean some people would try and pressure her to heal them or their relatives, as a Rogue it would act as good deterrent gang wise. Even Villains liked having a healer around, especially if she showed up to Endbringer battles to work triage like she was planning. It was safe enough and earned enormous amounts of good will from Hero and Villain alike as well as letting Taylor contribute to the battle.

She could be sort of like Panacea, respected and a no go zone for villains and vaunted by civilians. Panacea only worked four hours a week in a hospital, but she was still loved and praised. Sabah had also mentioned the healer had no contact number outside her family. No email address either.

"The girl has to be getting endless requests from everyone to heal them, from the drunk who poisoned his liver, to the woman whose baby is sick. I feel sorry for her, but I'm worried they'll turn to you next, lumping everything on to your shoulders. But... I know healing your father is important and this is the likely the best way to get practice doing it. Just... be careful."

That had been her advice when Taylor started to get serious with her magic after Mog's lesson, when she’d explained her plan to practice healing at the hospital. It would also give her good cover for healing her dad.

"Well, I can only get better at magic with your help right?" Taylor said cheerfully, Mog nodded and then Boco appeared behind the counter and bent down to look at Taylor's hard work as she carefully finished mixing the cocoa in after setting some aside for the writing and began spreading.

"Boco, you don't have a stomach, there is really no point in giving you any." Taylor said, her eye rolling as Boco squawked loudly and then sighed, ruffling up his feathers.

"We do miss having taste buds, kupo." Mog said with a sigh.

Taylor rubbed his pom-pom and planted a peck on Boco's beak.

"Cheer up boys. It's movie night." Taylor said as she finished coating her creation and began using a spoon and knife to write on top, and the finishing touch. Both of the Esper's flocked to the movie shelf and began debating what they should watch tonight.

Both of them were fascinated by movies, countless untold stories just waiting to be seen. Unsurprisingly they both liked movies with happy endings, like the big softies they were on the inside.

Both literally and figuratively.

Taylor eyed her work and felt a flutter of doubt rise up in her stomach, but pushed it down as she heard the door open and Sabah drag herself in. Looks like she’d finished just in time.

She hoped Sabah liked it.

Turning around Taylor guessed in had been a very busy day. Sabah looked rumpled and tired. Normally the other girl was so well dressed, despite her fashion quirk. Usually the fashion cape was on top of everything, but some days there was just too much, too many orders, too little stock, lack of inspiration and other things, it all built up.

Sabah fell on to the couch and put a hand over her eyes and moaned at the pleasure of being off her feet. Taylor braced herself, picked up her master piece and slowly walked over. She gulped, nervous and heart fluttering at what her friends reaction would be. Taylor really hoped Sabah liked it.

"Hey." Taylor greeted and Sabah mumbled something back, hand still over her eyes. Taylor placed the plate on the new coffee table that had turned up one day outside their front door with a note on it and receipt stuck to it.

"Sorry - Jess"

Sabah had frowned at the nice wooden table but, ultimately let it stay.

It was a nice table after all.

Hearing the clatter of the plate, Sabah shifted her hand and let one eye peek out and spied the double layer, chocolate cake with icing.

"For Sabah Only." Was neatly typed in white frosting on top.

Sabah sat up slowly, looked at it and blinked. Then the older girl carefully stood and faced Taylor.

Completely silent.

They both stared at each other and Taylor felt her heart racing, nervous and uncertain about what Sabah was feeling. She’d been sure Sabah would like the cake, the older girl loved cake, especially chocolate cake. Taylor gulped as the older girl swallowed heavily, her hands trembling and lips moving oddly, almost pouting but not and…

Then Sabah grabbed Taylor and hugged her, not her usual gentle ones either, but a bone crushing hug that made Taylor gasp but she returned it just the same, glad her friend liked her gift.

"My hero." Sabah whispered into Taylor’s ear.

Feeling goose bumps run down her arms Taylor shivered slightly, but still gave a thumbs up behind her friend's back to Mog, who had Boco hide the utter bombshell that was Sabah's kitchen.

The hug was great and made her feel great, but Taylor really didn't want Sabah to turn around.

It was later than night, long after movies and good times had wrapped up for the evening that Taylor found herself lying awake, unable to sleep.

She had all this energy inside her and it just wasn't settling. Probably too much cake, though she’d had fun dabbing icing on Sabah’s nose and the tickle fight that had ensued. Tossing again Taylor decided enough was enough. Getting up and dressed Taylor shot a guilty look at Sabah’s closed door. Her conscience was poking her to go wake her friend up, but Taylor didn’t want to be a burden so she quietly scribbled a note and slipped out the front door, her costume on and hood up.

To be fair, Boco was also out somewhere and should probably be found as neither Taylor or Sabah knew where he went. Though if she were to guess, Taylor would say causing more havoc at some fast food place. Boco was usually quite gentle, but he had a chip on his shoulder about fast food places, KFC in particular.

Mog had told them not to ask.

So if Sabah woke up, she would see the note on the shiny new table that Taylor was out looking for Boco.

Taylor did bring her new work phone with her though, just in case Sabah did get worried.

But if she was being honest, now that Taylor was legally allowed to use her powers for self-defense and protection of Brockton Bay and its people, well two little streets, but who was measuring? Taylor wanted to prove that she deserved it.

Which was why Taylor toed the invisible line between the ABB and the Empire territory Parian’s neutral ground straddled. The startling cut was easy to see as minor graffiti of rigid swastikas wearing crowns or the number 88 in black morphed into explosive dragon faces, Asian symbols, and the letters ABB in green and red. Taylor reasoned out that if she was in view of both areas then it doubled her chance to find some crime and, hopefully, do her thing. To do the right thing, save someone, even if she was a Rogue.

As long as they attacked her on the neutral ground, or were actually committing a crime. Otherwise they were just really obvious gang members walking on the street and would receive a nod and ‘be on your way’.

Being in a gang itself wasn’t illegal, regardless of that gangs activities. Legally you couldn't punish a person for what other people of the same group did. More, unless you caught them in the act, as a Rogue Taylor couldn’t legally apprehend them because even if they were wanted, she was not a law enforcement officer or sanctioned Hero.

Taylor knew this, but she also thought that if you were going to be obvious about being in a gang that is known to operate on drugs, violence and slavery in the case of the ABB, then you should be prepared to have a bad time if you came into her neighborhood.

However, there was nothing. No crime in progress, no screams in the distance, no drugs deals being made in a door frame, no gang member's playing with switch knifes in the dark, nothing.

Taylor felt like this was extremely at odds of her idea of Brockton at night, despite her experience with the Wards. There was always first page coverage on Dad's paper of major crimes or fights that happened when she was fast asleep in her bed, safe at night.

Now, here she was, looking like an idiot in a really cool coat. Taylor sighed and felt the wind pick up, making a little chill without the sun to warm her, it was only just the beginning of spring after all. Maybe tomorrow night, she hoped.

Taylor paused and thought.

Tomorrow was a school night. ‘Great’, she thought sourly.

With a second, heavier sigh she started to head back home.

Crash!

Taylor spun at the sudden noise, the Keyblade appearing in her hand with a flash. Behind her three large... things had crashed into street.

Looking at them Taylor felt her lip curl in disgust. The creatures looked like someone had managed to persuade a lizard to have sex with a dog then flayed the result alive and then blown them up to the size of car. Looking up Taylor spotted four people, spread across the beasts, looking down at her. It had happened so fast that Taylor was struggling to take in the details of their costumes. Who were they? What the hell was going on? An invasion? Cape battle? Endbringer?

What should she do?! What should she DO?! Call the PRT? Call Sabah? Fight? Options were suddenly shooting through her head, each seemingly more ridiculous than the last.

"We don't have time for this, move!" A male voice said, a guy with a skull helmet, he rode on one the... things by himself. The monster under him shot off, followed by the other lone rider, a person in a cheap dog mask.

The last two stared down at her and the girl, a dominio mask covering half her face with a lavender outfit that was clearly far too tight as Taylor could see her… chest, suddenly urged the dog forward, moving slowly Taylor noted the guy behind her wearing a crown on his head with a white mask like one of those ball room masks. A few steps later and the thing… dog? Lizard? Whatever, came to a stop next to Taylor.

Looking up Taylor saw the girl reaching her hand down.

"Do you trust me?" She said with a grin, a giant eye design just visible on her chest when Taylor gave her… chest another glance. Taylor looked up, past the hand into the blue eyes, or were they green?

The grin seemed to light up the girls face, what was visible anyway with her domino mask. Taylor looked deep into those eyes and opened her mouth.

"Hell no! Who are you?!" She demanded.

The other girl shrugged and looked over her shoulder to speak to the guy.

"Reg?" She asked nonchalantly, as Taylor suddenly heard a loud crunching noise in the distance. 'Reg' tilted his head.

"Up and over?" He asked amused.

The girl nodded.

"Up and over."

"Grue isn't going to like this at all, which makes it even better." He said with delight and Taylor blinked at being ignored, when suddenly her legs pushed herself off the ground, without Taylor telling them to, the purple girl grabbed Taylor by the back off the cloak and slung her onto her stomach over the beasts insanely hot body in front of the blonde girl.

Taylor was speechless, she was being kidnapped! With a grunt she was about to summon the Keyblade from where it had fallen on the ground when the beast took off in a large leap, bursting into motion. Taylor screamed in shock as the ground was rapidly left behind and buildings began to blur beneath her.

"Tattletale, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" The skull guy demanded as they paused their mad dash on a roof. The purple girl, Tattletale presumably, was about to answer when the street they were just in exploded into flames.

Taylor turned her head just far enough to see down.

A giant of a man walked out of the flames. He was almost completely naked, except for the silvery scales covering parts of him and the metal mask on his face.

A dragon mask.

"Oh shit." Taylor whispered, as she watched Lung, the Unconquered Dragon and leader of the ABB look up at them, his size growing. All three dogs suddenly took off and started to move further away from ABB territory, heading towards the Empire.

"I'm being a hero, Grue! I just saved this damsel from the dragon." Tattletale yelled over the rush of air as they landed in the street again.

"You kidnapped me!" Taylor yelled and struggled to a sitting position on the monsters back.

Tattletale shrugged, her grin making Taylor want to punch her.

"Details, details, but if you really want, we'll drop you off here?" She said as another fireball impacted where they were moments before.

Taylor looked back at the burning road as they rushed away.


"I'll pass. Why is he after you?" Taylor asked loudly, wincing as her legs began to ache. Taking the momentary reprieve she summoned the Keyblade back to her, holding it up as the other girl replied.

"Stole some of his pocket change from the casinos, got unlucky when he was at one of them, what are you doing with-"

"Cure!" Taylor said, trying this chant thing and to her surprise felt her magic much more easily respond and the ache in her legs soothed out immediately. Maybe there was something to this chanting business.

With that she turned her head back to Tattletale.

"What did you say?" She asked and the other girl's eyes focused on her much harder than before and when she spoke, it was fucking creepy.

"Light is within, dark is around. There is balance and unbalance in all things. The key to save and destroy all is the key. Find the light, chase the dark, endless stars, endless worlds, all are finite, all are powerful." Tattletale said like she was having a religious experience.

Taylor gaped at her.

Reg leaned forward and waved a hand in front of her eyes.

"I think you broke her."

Chapter Text

Tattletales's hand rose of its own accord and she firmly slapped herself.

Taylor winced at the sound as skin met skin, her empty socket spasming beneath its patch.

The blonde girl snapped out of her fevered gaze and blinked, green eyes clearing. Then she turned and smacked Reg, who raised his hands and shrugged.

"You were going off to crazy land. I thought I’d help you out." He said, not really sounding concerned for Tattletale.

Tattletale rubbed her cheek as another fireball illuminated the street they were fleeing down, it looked familiar to Taylor, but the blur made it hard to tell.

"Next time, try shaking me." She snapped and turned back to Taylor, opened her mouth and...

"The deepest darkness lies waiting, all is connected, all is ending, the shadows wait, the light flickers, the Seeker waits in-" She said, eyes glazed over again and then she slapped herself once more.

The rise and fall of the guy's shoulder as Tattletale hit herself made Taylor suspect that he had some kind of master power, motor control or something similar.

"Seriously, what the hell?" Tattletale groaned, the dog beneath them leaped and they all passed another street. Taylor made the Keyblade vanish. This was happening because of her and even if these Capes were probably villains… They’d saved her and she didn’t want to hurt them, even by accident and she was hurting one of them.

Well, the Keyblade was anyway. What was the girl’s power? The eye on her chest made her think mystical, and the name 'Tattletale' was pretty tattling of its own. Taylor put her money on Thinker with information gathering abilities, but regardless, the Keyblade made the girl go into a trance and spout something that sounded like it belonged in Lord of the Rings. Still, her words rang true in a way, they seemed familiar to Taylor, almost like a half forgotten memory.

Well, Mog had said the Keyblade was not always what it seemed.

"You started to do your impression of the little girl from Exorcist again." Reg said and Tattletale looked at him.

"Was I? I don't... Exorcist? Look, it doesn't matter right now. Regent, does she have it out right now?" Tattletale asked him seriously, he leaned a little to the left and stared at her.

Reg, no, Regent paused and then he raised a finger, paused, then dropped it.

"Too easy, way too easy. But nope, she put her stick away." He said, popping the P.

Tattletale turned slowly and looked at her.

"New cape... girl... injured... knows what happened." She mumbled and then frowned.

"I rescue you and you no-sell me for repayment? Not a nice thing to do Keynote." Tattletale said with a smirk that seemed a little less friendly than before.

Taylor gulped, before straightening herself, confidence returning as she reminded herself these were Villains.

Taylor was a goddamn legal cape, this girl could go jump off a bridge for calling her Keynote.

Except... this girl did save her. She didn't have to. Tattletale could've ridden right past her, used her to slow down Lung or something. Taylor was alive because Tattletale kidnapped her.

Sabah was so going to kill her.

"Sorry, I didn’t know that would happen." Taylor said, her tone soft in comparison to the accompanying explosions, where was the PRT? This amount of destruction had to be drawing attention.

"Forget about it, we got bigger problems right now. Can you do anything about Lung?" Tattletale said and motioned over her shoulder.

Taylor blinked at her. The blonde wanted her to stop Lung? Taylor had barely stopped Rune, not to sell the Nazi girl short, but she was no Lung. Not even close.

Lung was... for the most part, unstoppable. At least once he got going. After all, if the legend was true then he’d gone one on one with Leviathan the day the Endbringer sank Kyushu. That made Lung one of two capes ever to fight on par with an Endbringer and the other was Scion.

What hope did she stand against some like that? He was Lung.

The name meant dragon, unsurprisingly. His exact power seemed odd, he got pissed off and then got stronger, tougher, and bigger, along with some nasty pyrokinetics.

It sounded basic, but for some reason, he also turned into a dragon. That was the odd part, he grew wings and scales and claws and fangs, the whole nine yards.

This made him more memorable because it wasn't every day you ran into a naked man turning into a dragon. Not even for Earth-Bet.

But, if Lung was a pyrokinetic… Then maybe she could slow him down. Taylor opened her mouth, but Tattletale beat her and spoke first.

"Great, Keynote’s got something. Regent, swap with her." She said and then an arm was suddenly wrapped around her waist. Taylor didn’t even have time to really process what was going on as she ended up chest to chest with Tattletale, pushed back so the blonde girl was lying on top of her. There was a sudden feeling of pressure on her left side and she saw Regent clamber over them onto the dog’s head. Taylors eyes almost bugged out as Tattletale moved to straddle her and then, in maneuver Taylor didn’t quite understand, found herself at the back of the group, sat up, and facing backwards. Despite the blush that bloomed across her face in anger and embarrassment as she realized just how close she’d been with the villainess there was a far more pressing issue she had to address...

"My name isn't Key-" Taylor began but was cut off as the beast lost its footing.

The dog-monster stumbled as something swiped at its leg, causing all three of them slip and nearly fall. Taylor grabbed at a protrusion sticking out of the melted monster flesh for dear life. Lung tumbled, tripping over something as he chased them. The reprieve let the dog-monster right itself and Taylor got her first good look at the transformation that pictures couldn't do justice.

Lung really was a dragon. Silver scales plated most of his body, the remaining skin had turned black, and knives had replaced his fingers and toes. Flames flickered over his arms and legs, reflected by his metal body, and his eyes were visible as a yellow glow from inside the maw of his mask.

In the darkness, he was terrifying, a nightmare brought to life.

Taylor’s breath snagged as Lung caught his balance and looked right at her.

He made a noise that sounded like a word, and not a very nice one.

"Tattletale, look away." Taylor warned as she summoned the Keyblade. The weight made her feel safer in the face of a man becoming a monster right before her eyes.

"Argh! It's really hard not to look. Regent, tell me if she does anything interesting." Tattletale said as she switched places with him, taking over the driving of the creature. A patch of darkness suddenly enveloped them all, making Lung vanish and Taylor gasped at the sudden numbness to... everything.

Except the Keyblade. It began to glow, with a gentle white light, it made her breathe easier, hear normally, and feel safer as the oppressive darkness was pushed back. The dark mist, the confinement… It was too close to the Locker.

"Well, she's doing something interesting." Regent said as though Taylor was a new interesting pet, his voice sounding much farther away.

Taylor heard a dull thump as Tattletale elbowed him.

"Details, please?" She asked, sounding like it pained her despite the watery quality the darkness gave her voice.

Regent answered back, sounding like the cat that ate the canary.

"She's glowing, kind’a like a firefly. I hope she sticks around, I like you a lot better when you aren't the smartest person in the room." Regent said.

"I'll make you feel like an idiot later. Mark my words pretty boy." Was the terse reply.

Taylor blocked them out, she needed to focus. She took a deep breath and released it, calling the feeling of despair to mind and its icy grip.

When the darkness finally faded Taylor saw Lung was a fair bit behind. Still, she pointed the Keyblade back and aimed at the dragon.

"Freeze!" She yelled and four large balls of ice flew from the Keyblade. The first once smashed into Lung’s head, the second and third into his chest and the fourth overshot and smashed a car’s windshield.

Lung roared as his face was suddenly coated in a thick layer of ice, blinding him. His ankle suddenly twisted then and he crashed into a lamp post, knocking it clean over and tripping, crashing mask first into asphalt.

Regent whistled. "Nice. Key girl just froze Lung."

Taylor heard Tattletale gasp as she took this in and quickly began to speak her mind.

"Can use ice? More than that? Or less? The key lets her do it, but it isn't tinker tech... Manipulates energy? Not really, not tinker tech, no internal power source. Uses her own energy? Possible, not like other peoples powers? What? Never mind. Hmm. She's... capable of far more, just learning. Ugh, this really starting to hurt." She said and rubbed at her head. Tattletale turned her head slightly and asked without looking at Taylor.

"You are a pain in my ass, but that just makes me more curious. How's Lung coming along?" She was answered when Lung charged at them, fire in his hands, his eyes burning yellow through the mask, his hands swiped and the very air turned hot as the flames shot over them.

Tattletale did some taps of the creatures head and it began to zig zag. Lung veered off to go after skull guy.

"Not good, he doesn't look happy." Taylor said and then wanted to slap herself. Look happy? She just froze his eye jelly or something. Of course he was unhappy! Taylor hadn’t been happy when someone had done that to her. Well, burnt her eye but same difference, right?

Tattletale seemed to disagree though.

"Keep doing what you're doing. If he doesn't get a fight soon he’ll start to lose steam. Maybe." She said with a hand wave. Taylor turned and looked at her, as the dog mask person veered closer on her own hell beast and suddenly lead them down an alley.

"Maybe? This is Lung! Can I get more than a maybe?" Taylor demanded.

Tattletale shrugged, her shoulders barely visible over Regent.

"The Tattletale information trade is currently suffering from a doozy of a headache. I’d rather not push myself and pass out right now, thanks." The villainess explained.

"What she means is, figure it out yourself hero." Regent said, facing her as they ran for their lives.

Taylor watched, mouth parting in audacity as Regent leaned back, using Tattletale as a back rest. She felt her lips twist slowly into a good impression of Sabah’s snarl at his… his flippant attitude! Didin’t he care if he died, if his friends died? How could he be so… so cold. He was just like them. All those who stared and laughed and walked away when she’d called and begged and pleaded.

This guy was getting chased by Lung and he was just an apathetic, the bastard.

"Aren't you a little worried that Lung might get faster?" Taylor asked a bit more forceful than she intended.

Regent shrugged and Taylor felt like he was staring at Lung with the same expression you might look at an interesting thing outside your window. Like how people had stared at her. It made her gut clench in revulsion.

Detached, but alert. Like he was just waiting to laugh at her.

"If he catches up, I'll boot you off and sacrifice you to the flamy one. Should buy us time, and who knows, he might choke on your key." He answered and Taylor felt a lot less secure on the back of the dog than before.

Taylor turned back as they exited the alley and turned down a new road. She was disgusted by Regent. He really was just like all of them. Still, she had a stake in this too and… She was better than him.

Taylor fired another blast of ice, a cone of air this time, freezing the ground behind them into a sheet of ice. Taylor watched as Lung exited the alley, a freight train of burning death chasing them and ran straight on to the ice and his feet slipped, claws skittering across the mirror like finish. A few moments later he tripped again as a knee betrayed him and sent him once more crashing into the ground head first.

There was an odd moment when all three dogs slowed and stopped, everyone stared at the still form of Lung. Then, almost like a horror movie, Lung put one hand gently on either side of his head and the ice burst into steam amidst a billow of fire. Then Lung stood, wreathed in flames, the light dancing across his silvery scales, his mask shattered to reveal the inhuman monster beneath.

Taylor blanched staring at him. His face was distended, face bulging forward with a mouth too full of oversized fangs, eyes glowing like twin hell pits amidst more scales topped by flaming hair.

He stared at Taylor and pointed one talon at her.

"Aieme goo’ny eet oo fass." He said and Taylor ran it through her head a few times as he walked towards them.

Taylor felt the words unfold in her head, somehow understanding him despite the lisp.

I'm going to kill you first.

"Oh fuck. Move... Move!" Taylor said and smacked the mutant dog from the third circle of hell on its ass. It shot forward in a sudden burst of speed, bounding onto the roof tops.

Lung began to rush forward, his height brushing along the first floor windows on the buildings now, his claws scraping brick work out like wet clay, leaving glowing lines in his wake.

A higher building was coming up, forcing them back onto the street. Seizing his chance, Lung shot forward as all three dogs tried to turn and move, catching the skull guy’s, Grue? Grue's ride by the leg and slamming into a wall. Grue was sent flying, tumbling down the street. Hands flung out even as he tumbled Grue disappeared in river of darkness.

Lung shot a fireball into it and Taylor watched as flames billowed out of the black into a bizarre mixture of light and dark. The fire petered out within a few seconds though and the darkness was standing menacingly in the otherwise well-lit street; a blight upon the world that made Taylor’s skin crawl.

Lung stalked towards the darkness, intent on finishing Grue, but was Lung was blind-sided by the dog masked cape as they crashed full on into the dragon, the dog looking even bigger than before. The dog-cape whistled and the hell beast that Lung had knocked down earlier leapt at his torso, clawing and ripping at flesh and scales amidst monstrous snarls.

Lung bellowed and the air around him erupted into a wall of flame.

"Bitch!" Tattletale called out, worry in her voice. Bitch? The cape, and Taylor had to think it was a she with that name, called herself 'Bitch'? Seriously?

Shaking the thought from her head, Taylor filed it away for later. Refocusing Lung as he was getting savaged by the dogs, even though they were on fire, and Taylor felt the bottom of her stomach fall out.

Taylor knew this street. She knew that building. She knew the people who lived there. An Asian family with a daughter a few years younger than her. She was just up the road from home, from the studio…

From Sabah.

No.

She… She couldn’t let him get any closer. She had to protect Sabah. She had to. Taylor refused to let anyone else get hurt because of her.

She… She’d failed her dad. She’d failed so many people. So many were dead because she hadn’t protected them, hadn’t saved them when they needed a Hero. Even if she was a Rogue, she would their Hero.

Taylor looked back over her shoulder at the Villains behind her. How easy would it be for her to knock them down, to offer them to Lung so he would leave everyone else alone? She could do so easily but…

She didn’t care. Because if she did that would make her just like them. She was better than them.

If Taylor lead Lung anywhere else, then the problem would be the same, people would get hurt. The docks would have been a much better location, offering empty warehouses or the boat graveyard.

Lest this street was mostly up for rent, only a few houses where actually filled, being studio flats like Sabah's. Taylor would stay, she had to hold Lung off here as long as possible. There was still people scurrying about on the street, trying to escape the bedlam.

She’d save Mr. Xu and his wife and daughter, who always smiled at her when she walked past. She’d save Mr. Andrews who lived next door. She’d save Tattletale and her smug smile. She’d even save that bastard Regent because…

Because…

She remembered being alone, being afraid, the pain that made her want die. Her father so distant he never noticed, never reached out. Emma, her friend, her only friend, betraying her, killing her day by day while everyone else helped or… watched. Did nothing. They all did nothing.

Taylor wouldn’t do nothing; she would to save them.

Taylor leaped off the dog, spinning into a flip mid-air to gain height, ignoring Tattletale as the villainess called after her and Regent's cheery good luck.

She would save them all!

Lung threw the dogs off him, one after the other, smashing them into on the other side of the street. Mortar crumbled and glass shattered as the first crushed a house, the second destroyed a parked car in a spray of blood. Bitch ran after them, her pace frantic as the third monster grew restless when she ran past.

Taylor watched amazed and disgusted as Lung's flesh knitted itself back together, muscle and scales writhing amidst his blood like one of those time lapse documentaries. With a flex of his muscles, Lung snorted, fire shooting out of the snout his face had become, giving them all a crocodile smile while his eyes narrowed into orange slits. His fingers flexed and the claws created a screeching sound, scraping against his armor in a promise pain and death.

She would not bow. She could not, even as she stared death in the face, she, Taylor Hebert, would hold strong. Because… Because it was the right thing to do. Because…

A wry smile crossed her lips and the Keyblade practically sang in her hands as she raised it..

It’s what friends were for.

"Back off Lung. You're outside your territory, you’re alone, outnumbered, and it won't be long until everyone from Kaiser to Armsmaster is breathing down your neck." Taylor spat.

She had to make him leave, make him retreat. Sabah was only just down the street, asleep, defenseless. If Lung went any further, if that had been her home Lung had thrown that dog-monster into… The image made her jaw clench and eye narrow, her voice steely as Lung pulled himself out of the wall the mutant dogs had smashed him into.

"Yoo ink aa scae’s ee?" Lung said, voice mangled by his inhuman jaw and long tongue.

You think that scares me?

Taylor shook her head as flames curled around him.

"No, I think it makes you stupid." She said and flicked the Keyblade. Taylor put the fear of Lung finding Sabah into the Keyblade, the idea of Lung burning her, the soul crushing fear of her friend’s death… The Keyblade vibrated and a cone, much large than before, swamped lung, turning him into a statue.

Learning from Circus and Lung had her leaping towards him Keyblade raised when one his arms broke free and caught her. Taylor struggled as she felt the knife like fingers dig into her back and stomach, the cloak stopped Lung from piercing her flesh, somehow, did Sabah sewn body armour or something there?

Taylor glared, still squirming as Lung lifted her closer and his face as the ice cracked and steamed. In splintered of frozen shard he opened his mouth and twisted his neck, shattering his prison in a show of strength.

Brining her closer Lung stared at her, his blazing eyes burning into her own single eye. Even with the hood and it’s concealing darkness, Taylor felt her spine trembling with feeling he could see her.

Then Lung roared at her, his mouth inches from her face. The burning, wind would have blown her hood away if not for Mog's latest alchemical foray, some kind of glue that stuck to the air in front of her, preventing her hood from falling backwards once raised.

Taylor had tried to understand his explanation on the hood sticking to a small piece of mostly unmovable energy but she’d lost him. Still, if she pulled it up it stayed up until she pulled it down, Taylor understood that much. However, that meant if Lung were to rip it, the hood would give, but for this, the hot embers flying out his throat, licking at her face, the stink of rotten meat making her gag, it would hold…

And so would Taylor's courage. Sabah, Tattletale, everyone was counting on her. She was more than just Taylor right now, she was Portunes!

Snarling, Taylor stabbed forward, the Keyblade smashing its teeth into Lung’s mouth and unleashed her fear as a blizzard down the monsters throat.

Lung dropped her, hands clutching at his throat as bloody icicles pierced outwards, rupturing his throat, making him choke. He screamed, rearing back, stumbling whilst his nostrils flared with smoke.

Grasping the side of building to steady himself Lung looked at her and Taylor could literally feel the anger washing out him, the air going from warm to burning as the flames flickering over the dragon roared. Then Lung stood, his face made even more inhuman by his rage.

Taylor pointed again, Keyblade aiming at him. She would stop him, no matter the cost. Sabah needed her.

Lung rushed forward then, and she rolled, dancing away across the street. Lung planted one foot down, claws cracking the concrete, and pushed after her.

Brining the Keyblade back, Taylor prepared to strike as Lung rushed her, closer, closer… He was almost on top of her when his foot suddenly went sideways, tripping the brute. Seizing her chance, Taylor darted in, slamming the Melody into Lung’s, sending him crashing into a car in a spray of glass and smoke.

A whistle sounded out and Taylor turned to see Regent approach.

"Well, I hate to ruin a good fight to your death, but Tattletale wants you alive and she signs my pay checks." He explained and then twitched his head in Lung's direction, who was getting to his feet when his arm suddenly slipped out from under him, letting him land chin first on a metal spike… which bent beneath his scales.

"What are you doing to him?" Taylor asked as Lung's leg flopped uselessly. Lung seemed to be in no control of his own limbs, like Tattletale earlier when she’d slapped herself. Regent gave a wiggle of his fingers.

"I play with people's nerves, make their bodies lose control at the worst time. Want to try it?" He offered, pointing his fingers at her, Taylor shook her head and then Regent turned backed to Lung and sighed, he twitched his hand again, Lung who had been standing, toppled as his ankle turned the wrong way. Taylor blinked and then fired off a ball of ice, it smack on target and Lung's head snapped back with a crack.

"I'm not much use here, every second he gets less human and I can't do a whole lot with dragons. I think, I haven't tried , but let's not risk my neck, I’m rather attached to it." Regent said lightly, like Lung wasn't clawing his way towards them at that very moment in a squeal of metal. Another flick of the boys fingers sent the arm flying sideways and Lung face first in the concrete for a third time. Taylor glared at him, his bored tone annoying her. He raised his eyebrows as Taylor healed them both.

Taylor covered the ground in front Lung in ice, just for the lack of better ideas.

The chance to heal herself and fire some more ice at Lung was appreciated, but it didn't make

"All right, he's all yours; show me what you got hero." Regent said causally and wiped a speck of ash off his shirt, before he walked, jogged really, over to help Bitch get her animal dislodged from the car, where it was whining pathetically at Bitch. So much for Hellhounds.

Taylor felt her hand twitch, the nerves spasming even as she tried to stop it by clenching it around the Keyblade. She wondered if Regent was pulling a fast one on her. He did say he wasn't above letting Lung eat her for a few more seconds. Looking up though she ignored it, she had bigger problems.

Lung was now back on his feet though he was ignoring her, aiming for Regent now. His pride winning out over a closer target. Or perhaps his anger.

Not that Taylor would let Lung. Even if Regent was disgusting… He was still someone her age, someone not so different from her. She was better then them.

Taylor spun, pivoting on her heel as she brought her arm in and let loose! The Keyblade flew off in a blur, whistling as it arched away with far more force than Taylor thought she could have possibly put into it. In a blur it struck Lung's head with a crunch and piercing whistle. It carried on past in a spray of blood, still spinning as it flew down the street and began to turn in a maneuver Taylor knew would bring it back to her.

Strike, she called it. She liked the sound of it.

Lung snarled, head snapping up to to follow the blur of metal and piercing whistle. He was wide open!

Taylor dived, the world blurring as rolled, coming up just meters from the dragon-man. Heart pounding she rushed him from behind and with a push from her legs, sent herself airborne, tucking into a spin as she rose above Lung.

The Keyblade came whistling back at the same time Taylor's feet left the ground and Lung swiped a hand out to catch the weapon. As his claws brushed the metal, Taylor summoned it back mid-spin and brought the Keyblade down upon the Dragon's head with all her might. There was a pinging sound and Lung roared as a horn went flying, sheared from his head. As Lung swiped at her, fire billowing from his hand Taylor leapt spinning and shoved both her feet against his wrist mid-air. She pushed off, aiming downwards and Lung’s arm was rocketed back making the dragon stumble as Taylor hit the ground in a dive, already rolling between the dragon’s legs despite the burning street. Coming up to her right Taylor spun on her heel, Keyblade rising as she pushed herself back with both legs into another jump to gain space.

Lung turned, flames washing over him as he breathed in… and fell to one knee as the other betrayed him. Barely missing a beat Lung slammed both fists into the road and breathed in, chest expanding like a bellows.

Whatever he was planning Taylor wouldn’t let him spit it out. She shot forward, legs propelling her into a roll. Coming up next to Lung she swiped at his elbow, smashing the inside of it and flinging his arm wide. Spinning on her heel Taylor slammed the Keyblade into his other arm, lips quirking as it buckled with a wet pop. Flipping forwards Taylor planted her feet on Lung’s snout and kicked off, flipping back and away as Lung’s face smashed into the asphalt in an explosion of flames.

Standing back Taylor desperately tried to think of her next move when Lung exploded. A wall of fire spreading out from him which Taylor desperately rolled away from.

“Shit.” Taylor swore as she looked at the street, now more reminiscent of Hell than the quiet road she lived on. Sweating as the temperature soared, she grimaced. Fire was bad. Fire was very bad. She remembered the last time she’d seen this much fire… Taylor winced at the phantom pain of her feet blistering and charring. Worse, while Taylor's cloak was in theory fire proof, Sabah had never designed it to with stand this and if her cloak caught flames then she would have two massive problems.

One: she would be unmasked, which while less a problem than previously was still a major concern. Two: She would have nothing protecting her skin from the lick of flames. She’d burn and… and she… She couldn’t…

Lung roared, charging out of the inferno in a burst of flames. He was running on all fours in some twisted parody of a gorilla, every movement flinging flames off into the night. Taylor froze for a moment, terrified but…

She looked back, seeing her home. Sabah was there. Sabah was counting on her. There could be no retreat. She would save her friend!

Turning back Taylor took a deep breath, hot air night rushing between clenched teeth and steeled her resolve. She hated this, hated Lung. He… He was a monster who destroyed all he touched. Taylor felt her temper begin to boil. How dare he come here! This was her home and he dared attack her here?! She’d make him pay!

Taylor pulled at her magic, she needed the…

Cold, ice, fear, despair-

A fire ball shot past her, almost hitting her before she rolled away.

Gasping at the near miss, Taylor sucked in a lungful of air, feeling her throat scorch. It was hot, burning. She could feel her skin drying, her lips cracking in the heat. She looked at where the attack had impacted a building, the brickwork glowing a bright yellow as it began sag, the very bricks melting.

Taylor heard the alarms go off in the building and lights that weren't already clicked on, dozens of people screaming. For the first time Taylor really realized how many voices there were, wailing, yelling, screaming . All in pain and fear. She saw people running away, others hiding while some held up phones staring even as they ran from the chaos.

Then there were the bodies.

A crunching sound had Taylor snapping her head back to Lung. He was charging again, the street shattering and burning beneath his feet, growing even more. Taylor's jumping skills would only put her head level at this rate.

Taylor gripped the Keyblade tightly, she could feel her knuckles whitened even as they burned.

She had to to stop him. Lung… he was hurting people, killing people. She had to save them!

Without taking time to think she poured her feelings, anger, hate, rage, into the Keyblade. As Melody began to glow Taylor knew she was going to make Lung pay! She’d freeze him solid! Shove an icicle up his…

A medium sized fireball launched itself out of the Keyblade and harmlessly splashed across Lung's chest.

Taylor gaped at the Keyblade in horror.

Lung had stopped his charge, diving sideways when the Keyblade had glowed. Looking down he idly scratched where the fire had hit him with one giant claw. A grating rumble coming out of his mouth, teeth flashing in the firelight as he grinned.

"Ire eyote?"

Fire, Keynote?

Taylor's mouth pressed into a thin line.

Lung was laughing at her and worse, he had called her... Keynote.

Taylor had almost resigned herself to that name. Almost.

The way Lung said it though… it sounded like the worse slur possible, like he thought her weak, pathetic… and he was still laughing at her!

Lung, the Beast of Brockton Bay, the Unconquered Dragon, the cape who went one on one with Leviathan supposedly was laughing at her.

Taylor gritted her teeth, trembling with the force of her emotions. Lung was nothing but a bully.

The Keyblade flicked out, glowing and a wall of white streamed out.

Where before she would have managed a small cone or a few balls of ice, this was a wave, a tsunami of cold. Fire died, snow tumbled through the air, the ground froze and cracked, icy spikes driving up out of the ground in racing lines. A solid sheet of ice raced after, black and deadly, cold beyond anything Taylor had ever felt shattering everything it it’s path, splintering into a jagged mess sharper than Sabah's needles. It was destruction made manifest.

As it approached Lung Taylor had a heart stopping moment where she thought she might kill him, unsure if she wanted to go down that level just yet. So she tried to reign the ice in at the last second, pulling the cold back, trying to hold onto it even as it felt like her head was splitting with the effort, her brain freezing in her skull.

The cracks in concrete stopped short of Lung and he looked at her and despite the screaming, the crackling flames, and groaning ice it seemed… quiet.

Lung tilted his head, looking at her. Then he snorted and smashed the closest piece of ice and walked past it.

Looking up as her eye watered, Taylor smiled. It felt like she was holding back the worlds worst sneeze with a killer migraine and then she just… let it go.

The ground under Lung erupted, ice shattering outwards as an iceberg the size of a car thrust up out of the earth. The, thankfully, rounded end barreled into Lung's stomach and smashed him into the air with a thunderous crack.

The ice stopped growing quickly, but the speed and force sent Lung hurtling down the street. Breathing heavily despite the now painfully chill air Taylor walked forward, careful amidst the needle sharp ice. As she passed the iceberg Taylor a slash with the Keyblade sliced it in half. Leaving it so big was just begging Lung to use it to beat her to death so she’d avoid that problem.

"Holy shit. That was awesome!" She heard Regent say from somewhere behind her.

"Not bad... So that makes four, no, five, six powers now? Really?" Tattletale said and Taylor turned to see her peeking with one eye through her fingers. Taylor waved the Keyblade at her and she snapped them shut with a groan.

Taylor spun the Keyblade in hand, her cloak billowing in the hot wind.

Taylor felt, dare she say it, cool. Lung, who had spent most of the time Taylor knew him on the ground, began to slowly pick himself up again. When he stood, well hunched, Taylor had spotted that he’d grown another foot in height, his lower jaw now split in two.

That wasn't good and with the feeling of ice running down her spine Taylor realized when she had launched down the street, she sent him closer to Sabah, almost on top of the studio now.

Shit.

Lung sent another bone shaking roar into the night. As he reared up Taylor saw police cars parked down at the far end of the street, away from chaos, away from Lung, and too far away to be of any use.

Where were the heroes? Lung on a rampage was important, right? It wasn't like she was fighting his twin dragon brother or someone less dangerous like Rune... And even then they’d shown up.

Tattletale called out suddenly.

"Merchant riot in the Docks. Since Lung is here, they're pushing for it. All the good guys are over there, Velocity might be here soon, but don't hold your breath on anyone else!" The blonde girl called out, a hand shielding her eyes as she looked down at a phone in her hand. The guy in the skull mask stood behind Tattletale and was looking directly at her.

Taylor wanted to swear again.

What were the odds? Lung’s finally seemed to have composed himself again after getting punted by the ice. Snarling he took a step forward when a sphere of darkness enveloped him, two of the massive hell beasts hurled themselves into, muffled howls and roars echoing out.

"Do you need a hand?" Grue asked and, when he wasn't shouting or swearing, Taylor noted his voice was quite nice.

"Let me see if I can hold out, you guys don't exactly scream heroes with the dogs and skulls, but I owe you all one for getting me out of Lung's path , so you guys better get out of here before someone shows up and arrest you or something" Taylor said. She didn’t really expect anyone to come, not after what Tattletale said. But she needed them to leave, to go away in case Sabah needed to escape as fast as possible.

Taylor didn’t want Lung to out her friend and the fewer witnesses the better, if she would blend in with the evacuating civilians then all the better. While this group seemed... less murderous than the last few capes she had met, why takes chances?

"But…" Grue began to protest as Regent walked past him.

"Let's go Grue, leave the ass kicking to the girl who can actually dish it out. If she wants us gone then it’s no skin off our noses." He said and climbed on to the remaining dog, behind Bitch.

"I hate to agree, but at this rate, he's going to start crushing Bitch's dogs." Tattletale said with a frown. Without looking at Taylor she nodded and spoke.

"Don't die. I don't know anything about you, which is something I haven't been able to say in a long time. So don't go doing something stupid like dying or I'll be pissed." The blonde villainess said as Bitch whistled loudly.

"Brutus! Angelica!" Bitch’s rough voice snapped and the two mammoths, one named Angelica apparently, leapt out of Grue’s darkness, landing next to them with a crash. As the remaining villains climbed on, Grue paused, turning to look over his shoulder.

"There's room for one more?" He offered as the darkness began to fade.

Taylor looked back towards Lung, bleeding from his neck and beyond him at the building with the Studio under it.

"Grue, she won't come. There's someone else out here." Tattletale said and Taylor’s head snapped to the villain.

"I thought I no sold you?" Taylor asked with a raised brow.

"You do, but I don't need to use my psychic powers to see that you got someone close to you nearby. See ya Keynote, I'll hit you up tomorrow."

"Shove an icicle up there for me Keynote!" Regent called out with a wave as the Hell Hounds turned to run.

Then Grue lead the way forward, the beasts dripping blood and slobber as they vanished into the night and Taylor frowned after them.

"I'm not Keynote..." She said with a sigh.

Crashing steps behind her had Taylor diving forward, rolling twice in a row away from the noise.

Taylor came up with her Keyblade at the ready, but Lung was already there, right on her heels. He swung at her with one hand, spewing fire with the other. Taylor twirled The Keyblade, directing the fire to spin around her as she back handed Lung’s talons with the Keyblade. Then Lung’s other fist slammed in her back, smashing her into the street. As Taylor bounced her kicked her, sending Taylor flying across the street.

As she flew Taylor lashed out, the Keyblade scouring a line in the street as she righted herself, bracing her feet to land against the wall and…

Smashed through a window.

Taylor’s foot clipped the window edge and she ended up tumbling into the room. She saw stars and felt electricity pass between her eyes as her head clipped the edge of a table and she ended up smashing through two chairs to slam into a wall.

Gasping as her world flickered, and swayed Taylor struggled to catch her breath. It… it hurt, her head really hurt. Lung hadn't held back. With a struggle Taylor sucked in a lung full of too warm air pushing the darkness at the edge of her vision away.

She… She couldn’t afford to pass out now. Had to be a hero, save everyone… Protect Sabah.

Digging the Keyblade into the wooden floor, Taylor used it as a crutch to push herself up, standing on wobbly legs. A quick flex of her arms and neck showed that despite how sore her back was nothing was broken.

A flick of her Keyblade and green sparks showered her body and the bone deep throbbing and searing pain reduced to a simple ache.

Magic was god damn magical. Lung saw her act, spying the green flash through the window and charged at her, head down to plow through the wall in shower of bricks and flames.

Even as Taylor felt the oppressive heat of Lung’s fire she was already rolling, diving under Lung’s sweeping claws to wind up back in the street. As she stopped though Taylor froze.

Right in front of her were the steps leading down to her home, the studio’s door a pleasant blue.

Sabah.

“Ite ee!” Came the distorted roar of Lung.

Fight Me!

Taylor turned, seeing him charging her again. His entire body was covered in fire, silvery scales flashing amidst the inferno, face something straight from a nightmare, hands ending in foot long blades. The ground beneath him burst into flames and the air shimmered, scorched by the heat.

He was a monster, a dragon straight out of legend. He would kill her but… She couldn’t run. People were counting on her. Taylor wouldn't let herself run. If it came down to it, Taylor would try to take Lung with her.

Taylor didn't think, didn’t need to, there was no other choice. She raised the Keyblade across her body in a guard, and stood her ground.

She would protect Sabah with her life!

There was only thought in her head, repeating over and over.

Protect Sabah.

Lung crashed into her and Taylor felt herself skidding backwards as Lung smashed into the Keyblade jaws first. His teeth snapped down on the shaft of the Keyblade hard and there was a screeching noise as he tried to rip it from Taylor's grip with his bite alone, his breathe actually began to burn her exposed chin, even worse she was no where near strong enough to push him back.

Taylor dropped her hold on the blade, diving under Lung between his legs. Spinning on her heel as she came up right, Taylor recalled. As Lung stumbled forward at the loss of resistance she lashed out as Keyblade appeared in her and smashed into his back.

She’d shown him despair!

A layer of ice inches thick imprisoned Lung. Sucking in great gulps of suddenly frigid air, Taylor used her reprieve to try and catch her breath… But the ice was already steaming; fire churning beneath the frost and a sound like shattering glass pierced the night as Lung exploded out of his prison in a burst of flame. He turned to Taylor, flames dripping from his jaws as they split into four and opened wide.

Taylor didn't think, didn't blink, just pointed and fired as much ice as she could and a cone of cold met the stream of fire that spewed from Lung's mouth.

Dragon's breath met her frozen desperation. The ice melting on contact, the fire dying as it was consumed.

Lung looked like he was about to stop, leaning back and up from how he’d hunched down when he just walked forward on all fours,still spewing flames. The heat he was producing skyrocketing as he forced his fire to burn hotter as his burning body drew closer.

Taylor felt the Keyblade vibrate faster and harder, shaking in her grip as she kept ice flying out to match the onslaught.

With her very being aching from the magic use and the Keyblade shaking almost out of control, Taylor didn't see the hand smash into her body. She was lifted clear off the ground and sent flying through the air, her cloak replying most of the blow, but the heat of his hit sunk in and Taylor could felt skin sear with pain. With a swallowed scream Taylor landed in a roll, tumbling across the blazing shattered ground. Lung's strength was too much though and she wasn’t slowing down as she rolled out of control. As she bounced of a particularly large piece of rubble Taylor swung the Keyblade wildly and managed to impale the Keyblade into the street. Still moving though now controlled, Taylor used the Keyblade to flip to her feet as she skidded back, gouging a narrow line through the street. Digging the blade in deeper Taylor quickly slowed to a stop.

The Melody of the Lost was now shaking so hard it was painful to hold. Lung roared, in triumph or mindlessly, Taylor didn't know, but she stumbled forward, tripping on rubble. She was hurt and tired and wanted to go home.

Sabah. Protect Sabah.

She caught herself breaking into a run as she headed back towards Lung without a plan but, well…

Beat the crap out of him seemed as good as any plan right now, if she ran now, Lung would chase her, and any other street would be much fuller with civilians by now, if she pulled a vanishing act, then Lung might cool off, or maybe not , was Taylor willing to risk any incoming police force or PRT lives if she dumped Lung on them like this?

Stalling for time until another cape came to help was all she could think off, nothing else was worth the risk.

But if no one came and she just kept ramping Lung up, then was it worth the risk too?

As Taylor drew close, she hunched down and pirouetted under Lungs claws, spinning on her heel once more. As she spun Taylor lashed out and her vibrating blade crashed into Lung’s armored stomach.

The Melody impacted dead center and there was a boom and burst of light.

Lung shot off in a blur; there one second, gone the next. Taylor blinked at the trail of claw marks showing where his feet had been dragged by the force of her hit.

Taylor watched as Lung crashed through an abandoned car, then a fallen lamp post, and finally smashed into one, hopefully empty, garage.

Taylor stared at Lung and then at the now calm Keyblade.

"Holy shit." Taylor breathed. She had just sent Lung flying like she out brute-ed him by an order of magnitude. It was like, for just an instant, she’d had the strength of Alexandria herself.

Taylor turned the Keyblade and looked for damage, smiling when she found none.

Lung picked himself up and wobbled, his hand to his stomach which Taylor saw was crushed inwards, as if he’d been smashed by the hammer of an angry god, not Taylor Hebert.

Then Lung screamed; a grating noise even from where she stood.

Unlike the other times his stomach didn't fill itself out, in fact it didn't seem to be healing at all. Taylor rushed forward, not missing the golden opportunity of Lung being unable to move or even breath after having his stomach caved in.

Had the Keyblade's ability by passed Lung's healing? Had the damage stuck with him after Taylor had lost contact with him? Was it related to how Melody of the Lost somehow negated powers, were his powers limited in some way that she had been able to mess up?

It didn't matter right now, his stomach was finally moving and she was still a fair distance away. Taylor jumped up and sideways as Lung shot a stream fire from his hand in an attempt to hold her back.

Landing on a window ledge Taylor kicked off it, jumping almost straight forward. Aiming just below her at the building she knew what she wanted, no needed, to do.

“Freeze.” Taylor commanded and more ice fired from the Keyblade even as her heart ached from magic use. A ramp appeared, smooth ice growing from the building. Drawing her feet up Taylor landed on her ice and began to slide, riding it down, spraying more ice. She spotted another burst of flames coming towards her and shifted, the ramp arching down and away, out into the street in a steep slope. Sliding down Taylor arched her slide into a loop the loop, dodging first one, then two blasts as she shot across the road, her slide latching onto the buildings again. A final gout of flame rushed at Taylor as she closed in.

Taylor just grinned, feeling her magic respond much faster despite the bone deep ache. She finished her path with a ramp, the end curving up as she slid off and up, back flipping over Lung’s desperate blast and high into the sky, passing even the building tops.

As she hung there for a moment Taylor grinned. Maybe Mog was right about her? Maybe she really was talented? It was hard to believe that she had struggled to cast even a single ‘Blizzard’ before when she was creating a winter wonderland to move about.

Then she began to fall, Melody whistling a defiant note as Taylor hefted her faith weapon high.

Lung, almost fully healed, covered his heads with both arms, trying to soften her downward blow.

Taylor landed of his arms, feet rolling around his arm she kicked off again, rocketing towards the ground. As she rushed past Taylor swung, aiming for Lung’s undefended back, aiming to hammer his stomach from the other side.

Lung stumbled though, her kick having spun him slightly and he used this to turn far faster than he had done before, catching Taylor off guard. She brought up Keyblade, just in time to stop herself from losing her remaining eye, the knife like claws twitching inches from her face. Caught in mid-air though the spinning blow flung Taylor away, back the way she had come. Though she managed to use the throw to spin herself, landing on her feet and once more slamming the Keyblade into the ground to slow herself down.

Lung stood where he was watching her slide away. Pausing as she finally stopped, Taylor frowned. This was odd, different. Earlier Lung had been in her face the entire time, constantly charging and closing in. She felt this was a new tactic, one that she had seconds to figure out before she was worse off.

Taylor's thoughts were confirmed as a man in red demon mask with more teeth than even Lung carved into it appeared in front of her, dropping two pins at her feet.

Taylor looked up as the masked villain tried to hug her...

And rolled backwards. Even as she gained distance, the moment she felt her roll end Taylor was lifted clean of her feet by what felt like a sledge hammer and flung still further back. Idly Taylor wondered if this was how Lung had felt.

Rubbing her jaw when she stopped, Taylor spat out a mouthful of blood. Beneath her fingers the skin felt blistered and raw, fresh cuts oozing blood form the explosion. She looked up, seeing the red masked figure perfectly fine perched on top the building next to her. She knew that mask.

Oni Lee.

This is just what she needed. More villains, why didn’t she just send an invitation to Kaiser and be done with it?

Taylor stood to see another Oni Lee flanking Lung… He was fast. The pair of them began walking towards her then. Taylor idly wondered how Oni Lee managed to stand the heat.

Shaking her head and errant thoughts away, Taylor took stock of the situation, trying to keep herself from panicking.

Lung: beast, pyrokinetic, regenerator, though enough hits to stall his healing might do something, if the Keyblade was truly capable of stalling his regenration.

Oni Lee: teleporter, cloner, and serial suicide bomber. Maybe if she could freeze him or get one solid hit on his head he might be taken out of the fight early.

No back up, no escape, and little to no chance of winning.

So, a good day at Winslow before Sophia left then. She could do this!

Just stick a flowing red wig on Lung and a black pony tail to Oni Lee and pretend it's another day at school.

"Two on one? Doesn't speak well for the ABB!" Taylor yelled at them. The odd, idiotic, civilian that was still hanging about with camera's all took a step back.

Oni Lee twitched and Taylor moved as second Oni Lee came down on her with a pair knives in hand. The one beside Lung flaked into ash.

Taylor raised the Keyblade and parried the double lunge by the demon masked cape. A feeling niggled at her and she dropped as the real Oni Lee tried to back stab her.

Taylor swiped at him and the Keyblade smashed into his arm, both clones disintegrating into ash at the same time, obscuring her sight.

Taylor froze as the ash fell around. That feeling... suddenly snapped into her mind on the left. Focusing only on that particular feeling she felt something click and she knew where Oni Lee was.

Taylor lunged forward and got a startled Oni Lee straight in the stomach with an ice ball. He flew back…

And Lung grabbed her.

His hand fit around her entire chest now and turning her to face his monstrous face, he began to squeeze. His touch burning her, searing her. The nerves in her arms going haywire.

Taylor coughed, choking as pressure unlike anything she had ever experienced crushed her chest. It hurt, she couldn’t breathe, she was… was burning and she couldn’t breathe and she was being crushed, burning…

Lung leaned in close as Taylor choked and gasped, trying to scream.

Taylor's vision went white and she dropped the Keyblade, it vanished before it even hit the burning ground.

Lung somehow smiled, despite his maw being made of four pieces. They only made Lung more inhumane than she’d thought possible.

And Taylor realized that this was it, this was death.

She was going to die.

It was more painful than she wanted, but at least she was going out with a bang. Fighting Lung, saving the innocent, protecting Sabah...

Sabah... She was so important to Taylor, so important. Without her Taylor was nothing… It was Sabah who drove her forward, who let her dream. Sabah looked after her, comforted her and made her smile. And now she would only see a faint final image, not the vibrant girl she remembered. Taylor would have preferred her in one of her weird tops than in costume, but she guessed you didn't get to be picky at Death's door. Then for a startling moment her vision cleared.

Sabah!

A giant plush hand grabbed Lung and in a reverse situation, lifting him up, held between two giant fists. His body set the fabric on fire, but unlike Taylor, the cloth did't blacken, it tore in some places, but without a fuss, pulled itself back together.

Sabah, riding a giant gorilla stared down at Lung, her body half hidden behind the giant head for protection against the heat. lung snarled and began to rip at the hands holding him, the damage seem to do little to help.

"Leave. Her. Alone." Sabah said and jumped off, the the stuffed gorilla smashed Lung straight down, planting him head first into the concrete with a crunching sound.

Sabah picked him up again and his head rolled as his snout began to regrow and unflatten itself. Sabah crossed her arms and the gorilla hand which had the most holes in it exploded in a loud bang, sending Lung flying.

Taylor coughed, lying on the ground amidst the flames, rubble and melting ice as she tried to get her chest to work normally, the fire wasn't helping . Standing and without thinking she cast some healing magic over herself and blinked at how weak it was. Then she remembered that she didn't have her Keyblade in hand.

Taylor could do magic without the Keyblade? The magic came from her, sure, but she didn't actually believe that she herself was magical. This whole time she had thought the Keyblade did it all.

Sabah hopped down form her ride and ran to her. Oni Lee appeared and try to cut her, but quickly moved away when unseen needles pressed close to Sabah's body suddenly lanced out at his hand.

"Ta- Ke- Po- whatever. Are you okay?" She asked, begged, flinching as she looked Taylor over, taking a step back.

"You look like hell. What's going on?" She asked as the gorilla finally re-inflated itself and Oni Lee ashed away from it and then landed on it, exploding. Sabah winced at the loud pop.

"Lung, and Oni Lee I guess, were chasing these people, teens, and I got kidnapped and then I broke one of them and then Lung came and then we fought and then Oni Lee came, and we sort of fought and then you came! We aren't going to fight about this, are we?" Taylor asked, sounding a bit worn out, even to herself. Not that it wasn't understandable, fighting Lung on any day was going to be a challenge for anyone.

"Not now, maybe later, when there is no one else for me to be mad at." Sabah said and Oni Lee appeared beside them again, pins dropping.

Taylor tackled Sabah as the clone exploded, taking the searing heat and slashing pain across her back.

They rolled and the solid ground seemed to add salt to her new wound, as the burning feeling ratcheted up a notch. Sabah's gorilla stomped forward, head missing, the neck seal over and removed another clone that appeared near them by standing on him.

"Port, are you okay?" Sabah asked and then two more animals joined the fray. A rabbit and a snake came to rest nearby, or as Sabah called them, Flops and Noodle.

The Keyblade flashed into her hands, making Taylor feel better already. A flick of her wrist created a shower of green which had her feeling almost 100%, minus her ribs which still ached.

"I'll be fine, but Lung's heading back this way, you need to stay away from him, he's partial to setting things on fire." Taylor warned and Sabah nodded.

"So I'll try to distract Oni Lee?" Sabah asked and Taylor bit her lip.

Taylor would rather Sabah run to safety and leave her behind, but she knew her friend better than.

"Keep your back to one of the animals or try to hide and direct them from somewhere safe. He doesn't give any signs that he's teleported or cloned himself." Taylor said as she rushed towards the even bigger Lung.

Taylor hoped, prayed to God, Scion, anyone that she hadn't just left Sabah to her death. She couldn’t lose her, it just… She couldn’t. Taylor gritted her teeth terrified now more than ever as her friend fought at her back… but Taylor trusted Sabah to watch her back more than anyone.

Lung saw her coming as she raced forward and roared with delight, his body now accompanied by a tail.

The intense focus that was on Oni Lee snapped to Lung and she felt.. .how healthy he was? How much he could take?

It was a lot.

This was some new thing from being a Keyblade wielder, but damn if it wasn't helpful.

Still, Taylor didn't really have a plan besides stall for time and whack Lung in the head a lot and hope she got lucky.

Lung made the entire street in front of her erupt into flames but Taylor didn't stop. She swiped with the Keyblade and the red sea parted before her.

Lung didn't seem to be discouraged though, as he charged at her in leaping bounds on all four limbs. His claws, now closer to short swords than knives, struck out and Taylor ducked under them, but was forced to take a step back as the other hand reached for her, to grab her again.

With both hands still swinging from the miss, Taylor jabbed the Keyblade point black at his face and froze it solid. Lung reeled back and Taylor sucker punched him with the Keyblade in the stomach. The whistling noise and vibrations starting to build again.

Taylor rolled, dodging Lung's retaliation and coming up by his side as the ice ramp she’d made collapsed next to them in a wave of water. Seizing the opening as Lung’s flames dimmed she slashed at Lung’s knee, popping the joint sideways in a manner it was never meant to bend and sending him toppling. Taylor rolled under the tail as it lashed at her, scales not yet formed on the appendage, and saw Sabah in distance bury herself under the snake, as an explosion covered her, Oni Lee appeared a short distance away.

That bastard!

Taylor angrily swiped down and as Lung's tail swiped at her again and… It was cleanly severed, steaming blood flowing heavily from the stump as Lung screamed, belching flames.

Taylor watched disgusted as the severed tail flopped and writhed before it suddenly shrank and vanished.

Taylor backed away and looked in horror at the Keyblade.

So maybe she shouldn’t have lost her temper? She’d hurt him pretty badly but he was trying to kill her. She shouldn’t hurt people to the point of permanent harm but there was a limit of what was acceptable and was just being stubborn, it would come to bite her in the ass later but he would grow it back right?

Not permanent if it regrows. Moral dilemma neatly side stepped.

The indecision of her thoughts cost Taylor as Lung spun to face her, preventing any follow up on her success as she rolled backwards and away.

"ICCC!" Lung howled and grabbed at a street light, ripping it out the ground mount. He paused for a moment, testing the weight and then swung.

Bitch!

Taylor rolled, then rolled again, and again. Lung swung effortlessly and he finally caught Taylor mid paused between rolls right on her aching ribs.

Taylor heard and felt a crack even as she was thrown back into a wall, slumping onto the shattered sidewalk. Pain spread across her body and made Taylor moan as she lay there on the ground.

“H-heal m-eee.” Taylor wheezed.

The magic rushed through her to heal what damage it could, but Lung's foot lashed out catching Taylor in the side and sent her skittering across the destroyed street seeing stars.

Taylor came to a stop, her world spinning, the edges of her vision black and colored flashes skittering across her eye. She coughed, blood spraying out in red droplets and dribbling down her cheek.

She sent green sparks racing across her body again, and once more for good measure.

The rib still felt cracked, but everything else settled back into place.

Taylor spat out a mouth full of blood, coughing to clear her throat and backed away from Lung as he approached, her back hitting the stone of an apartment building.

A quick glance showed it was her's and Sabah's. The studio was right behind her.

Taylor gritted her teeth and stood tall.

If Sabah was in her place, then Taylor would be scared shitless and angry.

Now? Taylor felt like she would get out, she would make the right move at the right time and escape. This confidence was staggering yet she held on to it, to the point of almost believing it.

Lung snarled and raised a hand to strike her down.

Then Circus was straddling his face before planting two knives into his eyes.

Lung screamed, fire spewed everywhere as Circus back flipped off Lung to land beside her, pressing Taylor into the street, the space behind them consumed by flames

Taylor's mouths dropped open as Lung kept slashing at the air around him as the daggers remained stuck in his skull.

"Holy fucking shit, you were facing down Lung like you were made of fucking metal!" Circus said when they reached a relatively safe distance, Lung was tearing at his face, trying to remove the weapons, but they clearly seemed stuck on something.

Taylor panted at the sudden adrenaline triple dose that shot through her.

"What the hell are you doing here and where did you come from? "

"I was just in the neighborhood and can we pleas ekeep moving, I just did a very stupid thing." Circus lied with a straight face.

Taylor stared at her, using the Sabah look. Circus shrugged. Taylor winced as the heat from Lung washed over from them, even form a distance. Circus seemeed entirely unaffected.

"I was tailing the Undersiders, another shitty job from Coil. Saw you fighting fucking Lung, doing pretty good too, then he fucking cornered you and I still owe you from last time, so bobs yer fucking uncle, daggers in the eyes, and here I am." Circus said palms up, grinning like a loon.

Lung ran forward at the sound of their voices, knives still in his head.

They both back pedalled and Lung angled the wrong way, missing them.

How could he hear them from over here, and yet didn't hear Circus approaching?

Taylor shook her head, she really did want back up, but did it have to be Circus?

Well, beggars can't be choosers, even if the only choice is a psychotic clown.

"Go help Parian, she's got Oni Lee after her." Taylor ordered and Circus looked over and nodded.

"Save the girl, stab the fucking demon and get back to following the Scooby gang." Circus listed off and saluted Taylor.

"Live long and fucking prosper, Key." Circus said solemnly and ran towards the coiled snake that held Sabah save as Oni Lee bombed her.. Taylor gritted her teeth.

"It's Port-" Taylor began to say in a yell before a wave of fire erupted from Lungs still flailing form.

The knifes in his head melted and ran down his face in silver rivulets, horns where now proudly stretching the length of his head and his eyes balls rebuilding themselves as she watched, visible as two growing pits of fire in his skull.

"Lucky bastard." Taylor muttered, cursing her luck.

Taylor began firing another wave of ice, trying to recreate the process of super charging her Keyblade again.

Lung just walked through the ice, untouched, his body producing so much heat the tar of the road was bursting into flame beneath him, leaving fiery foot prints in his wake.

Taylor grimaced at the heat, if he went near anyone now, they might not be walking afterwards.

Taylor felt the Keyblade vibrate slightly more, but was it enough? Taylor flung the Keyblade straight up, spinning away from her. Lung's head snapped up, following it, firing a cone of flame at it, before realizing his mistake as it disappeared in a flash of light and trying to look back down. Taylor had closed the distance though and was already slamming the Keyblade into his chest, her chin, burning instantly.

Lung skidded a modest 20 feet before stopping. Taylor cursed and tried to back pedal, but Lung wasn't just stronger, he was faster.

She didn’t even have time to react before Lung was on her. She managed to block his swipe, desperately trying to shield herself but the blow still threw her up into the air and, with some demented thought process, Lung volley balled her into the Studio. Taylor smashed through the wall, bricks and glass crumbling around her and cratered into the opposite wall, near Sabah's work desks. She fell forward, legs buckling as they hit the table and face planting into the floor with a wheezing cry of pain.

The only saving grace was it seem the Lung couldn't produce fire when he was power locked from her super hit, she needed a better name for it. The ambient heat was still pretty bad though.

There was noise, but Taylor couldn’t hear anything, too dazed, woozy… She felt like everything was fuzzy and far away, yet too sharp, brittle…

Then Lung gave a roar and the walls, ceiling and everything shook. The world spun and as Taylor stumbled to her feet despite her body’s insistence she lie back down. As she struggled not to be sick there were three loud crashes and everything shook again. Taylor looked up as a sickening crack echoed above her and dived as the building began to fall on top of her.

The noise was deafening; the explosion terrifying as the roof fell and dust went everywhere, hiding everything in the dark. From her prone position Taylor scrambled forward, hoping she dived the right the way. Reaching forward she felt a table leg. Success! Desperately she crawled forward, hiding under one of the desks as more crashes rumbled above her, dust and debris flying about her. Then every source of light vanished, and Taylor was left trapped.

Taylor had the Keyblade across her knees, curled up under the desk. The only reason the rubble hadn’t crush her being the Keyblade holding it back and the desk protecting her head.

With only enough space to keep her knees to her chest Taylor began to hyperventilate

She was buried alive.

This space, it was making it hard to breath, she was trapped, unable to move, nowhere to go. Buried alive. The walls… they rubble was shifting, moving, pressing in. It was going to crush her. She was trapped! Buried alive!

Had… had to get out! Out! No, she wanted out!

Closing her eyes Taylor tried to calm her racing heart, trying to take slow deep breaths… But she was trapped. Trapped! They trapped her here with the blood and things and… and she could feel them crawling on her! She flinched, shrieking as something brushed her leg. There was blood, blood she could smell it, taste it.

Taylor whimpered, curling in on herself. She was trapped and alone and there was blood and things were nibbling on her. Tears trailed down her cheek while her empty socket stung and burned. She was trapped, it was crushing her and no one would ever let her out and…

Sabah was still out there.

Taylor focused. She wasn’t in the locker. She wasn’t! She turned her thoughts to her friend, her wonderful irreplaceable friend. Taylor could see her, arms clasping her sides as she smiled, beautiful blue eyes shining as she cocked her head, just looking at Taylor.

Sabah was out there, trapped with Oni Lee and Lung. Taylor couldn’t allow that, couldn’t stay here, stay trapped.

Taylor would do something at lest because if she just stood by and did nothing, people would die, and Taylor be just like them, the kids that watched her get stuffed into the locker, not helping because it was easier not to.

But she was better, not because of who she was, but because… because a complete stranger had reached out to her in her hour of need. Sabah had saved her and Taylor would save her. Armsmaster, Dragon… They had to be so busy, some of the worlds greatest heroes, with so much on their plate and yet they had reached out to her, helped her.

Because like Sabah, Armsmaster, Dragon… She would not stand aside when she was needed!!

Eye snapping open Taylor laughed, a small snort almost. How could she possibly think of giving up here, alone in the dark? She was stronger than that.

Holding out her hand she recalled the thought of Lung outside, the thought of the place Taylor called home now lying in pieces around her, broken and destroyed. Her rage at the injustice of it, her hate for Lung and all he stood for… All the Emma’s of the world, tearing others down just because they could.

Taylor's hand ignited with fire, drawing a breath of relief, the flames licked gently at her skin, warm and safe. The fire glowed, illuminating the sheer destruction of the studio around her and the idea of any escape vanished.

Taylor was completely trapped.

With a worried look she stared up at Sabah's work desk, the only thing preventing her from becoming a bloody smear. The industrial steel frame held against the load bearing down on it for now, but what if Lung kept attacking?

Taylor’s eye flicked around and a half sob, half scream tore itself out her throat.

Taylor curled up on herself as the fire in her hand dimmed.

"Please... help me." Taylor choked out, not sure who she was asking for help. She wanted to, needed to help so badly… Yet she couldn’t. She couldn’t help because she was trapped. She couldn’t even save herself.

Taylor looked around in the soft fire light but… No one answered, no one appeared.

There was no Sabah coming to save her this time.

Taylor gritted her teeth, eye clenched shut as she struggled not to scream. No one would find her, not in time. She was fine going down fighting Lung, at least it would have been worth something, she could have saved Sabah, but this?

This was a tomb made out of happy memories. She remembered all the good times they’d had here. Her and Sabah, watching movies on the lying tucked up couch together, seeing Sabah’s face light up as Taylor brought over a pot of tea, trying to cook new things as Sabah was useless in the kitchen and where even the cleaning up was as fun when she dabbed bubbles on Sabah’s nose, soaking Mog slightly.

He always poofed up when they blow dried him.

Now it was all gone, destroyed by Lung. Just because he could, and the worst thing was...

Lung didn't even know what he had done.

Taylor, paused in her morbid thoughts. Had she heard something? Then more noises leaked through the steel and stone.

Scratching, crunching. Lung maybe? Claws on stone defiantly.

Was he standing on the rubble, claiming his victory for all to see? Taylor hoped he didn't see Sabah up there. Taylor desperately hoped her friend got away, because if she heard Sabah scream… then she would claw her way out here with her nails if she had to.

Then the noise got closer.

Was he going to pull her out? To do what? Keep her body as a snack or a trophy, or maybe like everyone else in the damn city he wanted the Keyblade?

The scratching was far off now, Taylor pondered letting the fire in her hand die.

There was sense giving the monster any help. But if what she’d read was true, her rapid heart-beat was all he needed. Taylor frowned but decided to keep the flames. Even if they helped Lung… They helped her too, offering comfort and light against the darkness.

The scratching and noises continued and Taylor noted they sounded like a beast. Had Lung gone and completely lost himself?

Could the city handle that?

Voices leaked down then, none them Lung’s.

Arguing, shouting and something familiar Taylor couldn't place about the last voice.

"...Fuckers need to stand back and let me show how it’s fucking done."

Ah, that was it. Circus. Then light began to leak through tiny pockets of space.

"You sure she's this way? It looks fucking empty." Circus said as they were getting closer at an alarming rate.

"Judas smells her, she rode on him." A gruff voice replied. Then suddenly the rubble cleared in front of her and Circus was looking down at her.

"You're on fucking fire." Circus said, crossing her arms. His arms? Taylor had never quite worked that part out.

Taylor blinked, looked down at her hand and then poked her head out from under the desk.

A path had been cleared from the outside to where she had been trapped like someone had scooped everything out neatly. The girl, Bitch, stood at the far end with one of the giant monsters, it's claws white from tearing into the rubble.

"How…" Taylor began, but Circus pulled her to her feet.

"Short answer, I sucked everything up and now I feel fucking bloated again. Shorter answer, I'm fucking awesome. Let's move before the shit above moves down here." Circus moved her slowly but when Taylor showed no signs of injury and began to hurry, Circus grinned.

"Fucking brute, you look like a stick, but you can deck it out with fucking Lung." The jester said with a shake of the head.

Taylor glared at them.

"I'm not a stick, I’m just tall." Taylor said as she climbed up the rubble to stand near Bitch, the dog mask looking out to the source of the noise Taylor heard.

"Why are you here? I thought you rode off with the rest?" Taylor said and blinked as she saw the pure chaos on the street before her. Bitch didn't answer for a few seconds.

"Grue wanted to come back, Tattletale too. So we came back." Bitch said and stomped down the street away from the ruined building and Judas followed her obediently.

Circus whistled.

"Girl's rougher than fucking glass, but she didn't hesitate to dig you out, her other two dogs are being fucking beaten pretty badly out there." Circus pointed to a sphere of darkness which one of Bitch's dogs flew out of and crashed loudly in to the ground.

Bitch broke out running, the dog seem to react faster as she got closer.

"Where is the Protectorate or the PRT?" Talyor demanded, her eyes scanning for Armsmaster or Assault. Surely the Merchants can’t have been taking this long. They were the Merchants!

Circus shook her head.

"The Merchants, one of their fucking capes, Mash or something, apparently had been waiting towards the end of the fight before fucking sucking up an entire landfill’s worth of trash. He went super-mode and is doing a shitty impression of Big Rig. They're having trouble containing him, since his fucking body could be anywhere in the trash. Tattletale told me when she landed, dun’no who her spy is on the ground though." Circus said, sounding curious.

Grue gave a wave to Regent and the masked boy gave a series of hand gestures.

Taylor hoped his powers still worked on Lung.

"Great, Oni Lee?" Taylor asked and Circus smirked.

"He tried to out knife me."

"And?" Taylor said as she cast a healing spell over her shaking body.

"And he lost. Got a pretty good hit on his neck, he ran away like a little bitch. Well, not like Bitch, guess I need a new curse word, cause that one has forever been badassed by giant fucking hell hounds." Circus said speculatively.

Taylor nodded, not sure what to say to that.

"Thanks and I'll call things even between us now." Then Taylor turned and ran down the street, Circus's voice coming behind her.

"Not by a long shot." Circus said.

Taylor didn't reply, her mind too busy looking, trying to find Sabah. She spotted Grue standing closest to her after Bitch, his hand outstretched as if feeling for something, a huge protion of darkness not far off in front of him, a series of quick flashes seem to erupt from the darkness.

Taylor guessed she knew where Lung was, form what she remembered, the darkness might be enough to slow Lung down, if it effected his powers.

Tattletale and Regent stood off to one side, further away from the darkness, behind a flipped car. Taylor thought they’d be better off much further back and away from potential objects that might exploded with Lung around.

Then Taylor spotted her and Taylor felt herself sag in relief.

Sabah was alive.

Her friend was near Tattletale and Regent, on her hands and knees. She was visibly shaking, even at this distance and the fake blonde curls were bouncing as she shook her head back in forth in denial.

Tattletale peered out at her, talking to her.

"Listen, you have got to get away from there, you're too close if Lung bursts out. When, not if, Keynote gets out of that building, then she'd want you to be safe. You know that, I know that, so move!" Tattletale yelled at her but just Sabah shook her head more. Regent whispered something and Tattletale shook her head at his words.

The darkness remained a solid sphere as Grue retreated.

"Lung killed her, he's gone and killed my best friend. I never... I never got to tell her. I never got to tell her, tell her how I felt, and now I can't. I hate him and I hope, I hope he hears me. You hear me your bastard?! I hate you! I hate you! I HATE YOU!" Sabah screamed rocking back onto her knees as her giant rabbit and gorilla rushed into the darkness.

Sabah took a few steps back and Tattletale reached out to grab her.

The gorilla disappeared altogether into the murk. The rabbit was just visible at the edge. Flops, the rabbit raised one cuddly foot kicked into the darkness. It hit something and shook with the impact and then vanished as it was yanked inside.

"Parian!" Taylor yelled and everyone turn to see her running, favoring one side with her free hand, the other holding the Keyblade. Sabah stood slowly and reached out for her, like she could touch Taylor from a distance.

" Ta- Portunes! Oh god... I thought you were... I thought..." She broke off in a half sob and walked, mostly stumbling, towards her. Taylor felt a smile tug at her face and her heart felt like it could burst from joy. Sabah was alive!

As she jogged, wincing as her ribs violently protested, Taylor was so happy. Sabah was alive and unharmed. Even if she was hurt, he ribs were probably broken after punted through solid walls, how much was the Keyblade changing her? How weird was it for her to still be walking after a fight with Lung? Or was it the cloak? Did Mog add something without saying anything?

And what else was happening that she didn't know about? Never mind, she could worry about it later, it just wasn’t important right now. She had almost reached Sabah! Taylor took a few more steps, eager to close the distance between her and Sabah, either to hug her or throttle her for taunting a dragon or do… do… She’d do something, that’s for sure!

Taylor slowed as her mind snapped to Sabah, her energy feeling huge, hot and angry.

No.

It was coming from behind Sabah!

The doll cape had her back to the black sphere when Lung stepped out the darkness holding Bitch's last dog by the throat while it squirmed in his grasp, the mottled flesh bubbling in his touch. His horns now shorted, his form shrunk down since he pitched Taylor through the studio, his fire only shimmered around his feet now.

Lung had been bored by the Undersiders and now he was calming down. If Sabah wasn't right there, Taylor would have hid, let Lung slink off into the night.

Sabah turned her mask slightly, lifting it away with one hand so that Taylor could she her hand wiping away tears from her blue eyes, a wide smile on her face.

Sabah hadn’t seen or heard Lung, Grue's darkness muffling his steps.

Taylor broke into a sprint, running as fast as she could, faster even, faster than she was capable of. Her ribs screaming at her, threatening to break altogether. She didn't care. The feeling in her mind snapped to Sabah, her energy feeling warm and soft, comforting to Taylor.

Taylor drew near, close enough to roll to, her ribs making her unsure if she would go straight, but still so far, too far to run. Sabah's smile faltered, her mask hanging loosely in her hand, still held up away from her face. Lung stared right at Taylor, his eyes now an angry red. A single fireball was growing in strength in one clawed hand.

Bitch whistled to her dogs, Tattletale screamed at Sabah, Grue tried to move his darkness, Taylor dived forward into a roll.

Taylor watched as the world accelerated, her vision tunneling as the rest of the world blurred and she accelerated. Her shoulder hit the ground and she was flying forward so fast, her ribs making an odd popping sound that she ignored. She was coming up, the ground flashing beneath her and…

It was all for nothing.

Sabah was still turning when she was engulfed in fire. Her body silhouetted, a shadowy figure in the fire for a moment before vanishing, her body reduced to ash in an instant, not even enough time to scream as her warm presence vanished from Taylor’s mind.

Taylor stopped a few feet shy of the bonfire, the pyre.

Suddenly there was a lot of noise happening all at once. Lung was tackled by the last two dogs and pushed back, Circus said something as the jester ran past her, throwing knifes and making steel beams appear out of thin air, smashing them into Lung's face again and again with little effect, Lung ignored her entirely.

She couldn’t… Couldn’t hear them... Hear them though. There was a rushing sound, like a river or waterfall… No, no… Screaming. There was screaming and all… all she… she… All she could hear was screaming.

Someone spoke to her, shaking her by the shoulder… Tattletale?

Taylor didn't hear, couldn’t here. There was only screaming. She didn't care about Tattletale, about her words… words. Who was screaming?

Taylor fell to her knees, the Keybalde clattering onto the ground beside her. She reached out towards the pyre, hand and fingers trembling; the fire just barely touched her skin, the pink flesh turning red, then blistering, peeling.

A flash brought the Keyblade back into her hand even as it burned. She slashed at the pyre, splitting the flames in two. Taylor had to see, had to check that Sabah was... That she really was…

Gone.

Sabah was gone.

Close to Taylor, staring up at her, was Sabah's mask, slowly turning from royal white to charred black. The ruby eye liner melted to an ugly tar that dripped across the mask like bloody tears.

There… There was… was nothing else, Sabah had just been there and now… now she was gone. No… No goodbyes, no final words, not even the fucking dignity to see the final blow coming.

It was unfair, Taylor thought, pulling the mask close to her gently, hugging it to herself.

It was all so unfair.

First her Mom, then Emma, her Dad, and now... Sabah. Gone. All gone. Sabah, who had helped Taylor on the very first time they met, and never stopped helping her. Sabah who never turned her away or left her, supported her through every hard choice in her cape career.

Held her when Dad had lost himself. No one else was there. No one else would be.

The same girl who had been so important to Taylor now, shared with Taylor so many memories, shared her friends, Mog and Boco.

Oh god.

If Sabah was… was… If Sabah was de-… de-… gone, then that meant they were gone as well. Mog had said that didn't hadn’t he? That Sabah continued their existence on Earth-Bet and now that she was g-gone, they would be nothing more than p-piles of fabric.

Unmoving. Unresponsive. As good as dead.

Taylor choked as the idea hit her.

Taylor was alone, utterly alone. All her friends had been taken from her. She… she was all alone again.

Taylor began to choke, sobbing. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t… couldn’t breathe. Each time she tried she could only sob came up.

Sabah was dead!

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! This wasn't how it was supposed to be! Taylor was supposed to protect her, protect them all. Defeat Lung, do a good deed and be at home relaxing with Sabah.

Now her home was rubble, rubbish to be swept away and Sabah was ash, already gone by the time Taylor had reached her, dust upon the wind.

Taylor had failed Sabah. She’d failed her friend, failed her in the worst way possible. She hadn’t protected her. She’d failed! Failed Mog, failed Boco, failed her father, failed the Wards, and failed Armsmaster and Dragon.

She wasn't a hero.

Taylor was nothing! Just a useless fucking failure who couldn’t save the people she loved!

The mask in her hands cracked a little as the material began to cool and turn brittle.

Like Taylor.

Too weak to ever help anyone.

She cried, tears running down her face, mouth trembling unable to even voice her greif. Her chest ached, her heart… breaking. Everyone was gone and she was all alone. Sabah was gone. She’d never see her again, never feel her warmth or hear her laugh or…

Taylor screamed. She screamed and she screamed.

She’d… she’d failed. She’d failed. She’d failed! She’d failed! She’d failed!!

No, that wasn't true.

She hadn’t… she’d t-tried. She tried and Lung had… He’d killed her. He killed Sabah.

It was… It was all his fault.

She’d tried.

Taylor felt the mask snap beneath her fingers. She looked down and knew she’d been wrong. She wasn't cold, she wasn’t weak… It was all his fault. He’d taken her away! He killed Sabah!

Taylor gritted her teeth, grinding them. She was angry. Angry beyond words.

Tears streaming down her face she felt herself flush, unable to contain her anger… her rage! She wasn’t cold! She wasn’t weak! She hot, burning. Burning! They… they would all pay. They would all pay! Lung, Tattletale, Regent, Bitch, Grue… They brought Lung here! They were responsible too! They’d all pay, they’d all burn.

They all deserved to burn, to die like Sabah had. To vanish, disappear. Go away!

She’d make them, she’d burn them all… Turn them into ash! She’d send them all to brun in the fires of Hell!

She’d burn them all with Hellfire!

Because she, Taylor Hebert, weak, skinny failure who couldn’t save a single person… was absolutely fucking burning inside!!

Life wasn't fucking fair and she’d had enough of it. She was tired of this game where Taylor kept losing; tired of people just coming into her life and leaving so violently.

So she’d stop playing their game and start playing her own.

Blinking to clear tears away, Taylor turned her head, raking her eye across the street.

The rest of the capes were much further down now, standing back, arguing with each other, Lung was obscured by another dome like cloud of Grue’s darkness, but he wasn't staying put and Grue was conjuring more as he moved. Hoping to deramp lung maybe.

Taylor's wet eye dragged over it, seeing Lung's limbs flashing in and out along with gouts of flame.

He’d burn.

Tattletale had run off to stand near Grue, just visible on the other side of the darkness, crouching behind a larger piece of rubble.

Taylor didn't care. It didn't matter.

They’d burn too.

Taylor stood, her knees feeling solid under her, her shaking gone. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt to stand. She knew it should but she couldn’t feel it, couldn’t hear her body protest over the inferno in her ears.

Life wasn't fair and Taylor was going to fix that. The Keyblade was already in her hand when she raised it. Sabah's mask clenched firmly in the other.

Around Taylor the flames began to spin, a great circle forming around her.

Her ribs were broken, but pain couldn’t breech her grief. Her back was damaged from having a building dropped on her and there was a white noise slowly filling her head but it couldn’t touch her, burnt by her rage. Taylor stared at the flames.

"Sa... Sabah... I'm so sorry." Taylor choked out, the words sounding hollow and pointless.

Taylor took a breath and then screamed.

Except… It was different. She didn’t scream in pain or despair. It just as loud, just as hurt but… She screamed in fury. Her rage given physical form.

Rising to her feet, everything Taylor felt and couldn't translate into words she poured into her scream until it was nothing but noise, no longer human. Taylor raised the Keyblade above her head, spinning it. The circling flames roared back at her, taking up her pain, her grief, her fury, her desire…

Grasping the blade as the inferno howled around her Taylor pointed the Keyblade at Lung, hearing him roar, in response to her or just because she didn’t know. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was still alive and not burning.

The Keyblade grew hot under her touch as she swiped at the spinning inferno, drawing tongues of flame to her in great sweeping ribbons. The fire pooled at the tip of the Keyblade, held high above her head.

What now? What was she doing? Wasn't she allowed to even grieve without something bullshit happening?

Burn them all!

Taylor snarled at the Keyblade her rage breaking and smashed it point first into the concrete, the fireball exploding to fill the large spider web of cracks spreading out form the impact. The lines flickered, glowing, burning in an otherworldly pattern.

It didn't make her feel better though.

Nothing would.

Until they were all burning in Hell!

Taylor screamed again and slammed the Keyblade into the ground again, and again; the cracks widening each time, more fire spilling out until Taylor stood ankle deep in flames.

"I'm going to make him fucking burn. I'll burn him. I'll burn this entire fucking city if I have to. I’ll make Lung pay!" Taylor promised herself and felt the idea settle into her, flow through her, giving her purpose, strength.

The Keyblade shone with the same purpose, glowing an angry red and when she smashed it into the ground one last time, the cracks widened even further and Lungs fire, Taylor’s fury and Sabah’s ashes, seeped into them like it was liquid.

As she watched Taylor felt the words slip from her lips.

“Burn them. Burn them all.”

Then every crack Taylor had made glowed, dark red, sickly flames billowing upward into the night.